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fictitiousfoodie · 2 days ago
Do As Told
HELLO! Sorry for the absence. If I am being 100% honest it has just been really hard to write lately. I haven't felt inspired or the drive to sit down and do it. BUT none the less here we are. I know this piece is short but maybe part 2?  
Word Count 1129
Summary: Loki and Thor are arguing - you step in and end up siding with Thor when you should’ve sided with Loki. 
SMUT! But no other warnings! 
As always tags and requests open! 
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Y/N was a scholar in Asgard. She spent most of her time with her nose in a book. Her favorite subject was Midgard. She loved learning all that she could about life on a planet that seemed so similar yet so different to her own. Being that the best library was in the capital, she spent most of her time. She would tuck herself away in the window seat and do her studies and read. Very occasionally, she would see Thor walk through more often than not, looking for someone rather than a book. And more recently, she had started to see Loki in the library as well. He always smirks and bows his head just slightly as he walks past her.  It was a few days ago that she noticed Loki sitting closer to her than normal. He seemed to be reading a book, but to Y/N, it looked more like he was just flipping through pages pretending to read than reading. He continued to do this every day with a different book but seemingly getting slightly closer each day.
"I told you, Loki, they don't want to be told what to do," Thor chuckled from somewhere near. "I understand that on the surface, most people don't like the idea of being ruled brother. But, I think there could be a case made for people finding certain comfort in it." "Loki, you of all people should know that isn't true. You hate being told what to do, as do I". "Yes, but we are superior to humans."
Y/N had been listening to the argument from her spot, but at that, she couldn't just sit by humans, and Asgardians weren't that different. So she walked up to them and immediately remembered how small she was standing next to the both of them. Yes, Thor was tall and muscular, but Loki was by no means small. The difference in height alone between her and them made her breath catch.
"Um, actually, Loki. You're mistaken. Humans and Asgardians are quite similar. Biologically the actual anatomy is identical. And yes, before you start, we do live longer and tend to be stronger, but that can sometimes be a disservice to us", Y/N proudly stated.
"And I am sorry. Who are you?" Loki asked immediately, making Y/N face blush. "My name is Y/N, and I am a scholar, specifically on the subject of Midgard." Thor roared with laughter. Someone had agreed with his point of view that was more focused on the brain than brawn. That was a win for him, and he walked past Loki, patting him on the should, "Oh brother, see, I am always right." The look on Loki's face was a mixture of annoyed and pure hatred. He rolled his eyes but turned his attention back to you.
"And what about the other point I made?" "What other point?" "The one about humans wanting to be controlled." "I agree with you, but not in the way you mean it. Most people don't like being forced to be told what to do. You have to gain their trust or be a willing participant. That way, they feel like they have some say."  Y/N had always been aware of what Loki looked like. Which was very, very attractive. He was tall and athletic but not bulky. His smirk gave her chills the one time she had seen it when he was trying to sneak past a guard.
"I see your point but answer me this. Do you think that Asgardians are the same? That they would be willing to ... do as told... if they were, as you put it, a willing participant?" Loki questioned with that smirk now directed at her. Goosebumps broke out over her skin as she understood fully what Loki was saying. She didn't want to admit it, but, yes, she would do anything he told her.
"It would depend, I think for most, on what it was. Warriors have little problem being told what to do because they believe they are fighting for something bigger". She stated, trying to keep her voice even and the shakiness out of her hands.
"And what if I told you that I wanted to bend you over this table and have you be my plaything for the afternoon. Would YOU do what you were told?" He hadn't torn his eyes from her. Instead, his hands itched to reach out and claim her. "...yes... I would", she breathed, breaking the stare and looking down.
She didn't have time to think beyond that because Loki was on her. His hands gripped her face and pulled her to him. He slid his hands into her hair and fisted, making her gasp. Loki took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth and deepen the kiss. Y/N felt like fire. Her body was tingling with excitement and desire. She grabbed at Loki's sides and pulled him closer. She wanted more, needed skin-to-skin contact. She wasn't sure if Loki was reading her mind or was just that in tune with her already, but he quickly broke the kiss and turned her toward the table. He reached down and pulled the length of her dress over her ass, exposing it to him. She heard Loki almost growl at the sight. She heard him undo his pants then he was leaning against her.
"Are you ready, pet? First, I am going to take you hard and fast, then I am going to take you to my bed and torture you for the rest of the day and maybe tomorrow." He whispered in her ear, then fished the statement with a kiss and bite on her pulse point.
"Yes. Yes, please." "Ah, you are already submitting so well. What a good girl." Y/N didn't have time to respond. Loki slammed into her. Arching her back, she moaned, quickly adjusting to him. She felt his hands glide up and down her body. He reached for her arms and pulled them behind her. He pulled out and slammed back to keep her pinned to the table and pulled her in with each thrust. Y/N saw stars as Loki continued to fuck her into the table. She felt her orgasm and couldn't wait for it. Loki felt her tightening around him as well. "That's it, pet. You can cum this time. Cum for me, pet. Prove to me how much you like my cock buried deep in you." Y/N's orgasm crashed over her. Loki came a few moments later. He slipped out and pulled her to him, capturing her lips with her arms still held behind her. When he broke the kiss, Y/N realized they were no longer in the library but in his bedroom.
"Are you ready, pet?"
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fayemarvels · 2 days ago
Backseat rider
Peter Parker x fem!reader (She/her)
I tried to write this in the second person so please tell me how you like it.
Summary: Inspired by the wonderful song Backseat Rider by Sara Kays, with my little twist on it, and with a happy ending.
You and Peter have been friends for a long time, and he promised you the first ride in his car. When you come back from your Europe trip, MJ is sitting in the passenger side. The fact that you are in love with him doesn't really help.
Or: Peter promised you a ride in his car and his stupid plan fails because he is jealous.
Warnings: angst, fluff, bad writing, grammatical mistakes,
Word count: 5.1k
English isn't my first language so please don't mind the grammar and sentence structure mistakes and stuff. If you have any suggestions on how to improve my writing, please let me know.
! Please don't repost my work anywhere without my permission. Thank you!
My masterlist *******
9. September 2013
It was the first day of school and you were standing at a bus stop just a few blocks from your new apartment. You and your parents just moved to queens and you were starting in a new school.
With your new schoolbag which you got for your 12th birthday just 3 days ago slung over your shoulders, you tapped your foot nervously against the concrete under your newly polished shoes.
You were so excited to start 6th grade in a new school, away from the people in your old one. You were always a shy kid and some of the kids from your previous school picked on you just because of that.
The school became hell and you started making excuses as to why not to go in. At first, your parents were annoyed thinking you were just lazy. But you later opened up about your struggles and they started to take action.
But before much happened, one of your parents got a job opportunity in Queens, New York, and without much thinking, took it. When you left the school, you felt like you could finally breathe. A huge boulder fell off your shoulders and you were so excited to find some new friends and meet new people. To get a new start.
Due to the traffic, the bus came with a 7 minutes delay. And as the bus rounded the corner to arrive at the bus stop, a frazzled-looking boy came crashing into you.
Before you could crash to the ground, he caught your hand and pulled you towards him in an effort to save you from crashing into the hard ground.
“I am so so sorry, I didn’t mean to I fell asleep and burned my toast and spilled toothpaste on my shirt, and ” he took a deep breath before he continued with his rambling.
“Oh god I am so sorry, I’m rambling” He scratched the back of his neck.
“It’s alright, truly. But I would really appreciate it if you let me go.” You said quietly and the boy’s eyes widened in horror.
“Sorry, sorry” he kept apologizing and mumbling underneath his breath.
“Please stop apologizing, nothing much happened,” You laughed lightly and he breathed out in relief.
“I’m Peter, by the way, Peter Parker,” he introduced himself more calmly. Now, that he wasn’t rambling and frantically running his hands through his hair, you could finally focus on his features. He was slightly shorter than you, with curly brown hair and chocolate brown eyes that were still tinted with sleep.
“Nice to meet you Peter my name is (Y/N) (L/N).” You introduced yourself and you stepped together into the bus. You looked around for two places to sit, preferably together.
“There,” Peter pointed to the back of the bus. You pushed through the crowd of people standing and made it to the seats. Peter let you sit beside the window and sat beside you.
“The public transport in new york is so horrible,” Peter whined and you raised your eyebrow.
“Is it? I just moved in like 2 weeks ago so I didn’t have much time to explore.”
“Oh, so this is your first day of a new school.” His eyes widened in realization and you nodded.
“What school are you going into?” He asked and you could see the excitement in his eyes.
“Palm tree elementary school.” You answered and Peter jumped in his seat.
“Oh my, me too, that’s so exciting, Ned will be so happy,” he squealed you smiled widely.
You talked the rest of the ride to your stop, and through the short walk to your school. This boy might just make this school much more exciting than you thought.
20. August 2019
“Okay, just wait for me outside of your apartment building I’ll come and pick you up,” Peter said into the phone and you hummed in acknowledgment.
“Okay Petey, I’ll be waiting, I missed you so much throughout the summer, I’m sorry I didn’t call” you apologized feeling guilty.
“It’s okay, I get it, I was the one to suggest it. Okay, I’m leaving, I’ll be at yours in about 10 minutes. ”
You and your family went to Europe for the majority of summer. You tried to keep in contact but of course, it was hard the time difference made it very difficult to find a time where you both can call and don’t lose sleep.
The first person to stop trying was Peter. On a rare call one night, he informed you that he didn’t want you to lose sleep just because you wanted to talk to him
“Don’t worry, you’ll tell me everything when you get back, just don’t forget to bring me souvenirs.” Peter teased and you laughed sadly. You missed him so much and the heavy feeling in your heart wouldn’t go away.
“Okay, just prepare yourself because I’ve gotten you a souvenir from every single location we went to.” You sniffled.
“Hey, don’t cry, everything will be alright nothing will change I promise.”
10 minutes later, Peter pulled up to your parking lot and your heart skipped a beat. Your smile widened and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered. This was the first time you saw Peter after a month and a half. You returned from Europe only 4 days ago so you used that time to get rid of the jet lag.
Your smile dropped when you saw a shadow sitting on the passenger side. You shook your head and moved closer to the car. Peter stepped out of the car and you flung your arms around him. He tensed for a bit before he wrapped you up in his arms and breathed in your scent.
“I missed you so much, you have no idea,” he mumbled into your neck and you pressed your lips into his hair.
“I missed you too, for the last two weeks, my parents were a pain in the ass,” you complained and Peter laughed. Then he got serious.
“Well, at least you have parents.”
“I’m just kidding, don’t worry bug,” he giggled and you hit his shoulder lightly.
“I hate these jokes,” you complained.
“I know, that’s why I make them.” He giggled and you rolled your eyes.
“Okay. C’mon, I have my classmate MJ here, I wanted to introduce you two he stepped away and you wrapped yourself around yourself.”
Peter opened the back door for you and you thanked him. When you got into the car he closed the door behind you and quickly got into the driver seat.
“So MJ, this is (Y/N). Bug, this is MJ.” He introduced you two and you waved awkwardly.
“Hi, I heard about you so much, is so nice to meet you.” MJ greeted and you smiled.
“I would like to say the same but Peter has never talked of you,” you scratched your neck shyly and MJ waved her hand.
“It’s fine, me and Peter only started hanging out about 3 weeks ago, but we’ve gotten a lot closer.” She explained and you nodded.
“So, Peter told me you are in an art school,” Mj started and you shuffled to the edge of your seat so you could hear better.
“Yeah, I do interior design, color pallets, and furniture designs.” You explained and MJ nodded her head.
“That sounds really cool, you’ll be the first I’ll contact when I’m furnishing my house” MJ laughed and you giggled.
“Yeah sure, just give me a call,”
But then, it got quiet. You just relaxed against the seat behind you and closed your eyes for a few moments.
“So, I saw the star wars movies the other day, it was so good,” MJ exclaimed and Peter laughed out loud.
“I tried to get this lady into it but she hated it. The same with star trek.” Peter said, pointing at you.
“Yeah, I hate it so much,” you chimed in but they didn’t respond. They just continued laughing and talking without you. You couldn’t help but think that they looked so much like the two of you looked when you talked about both of your favorite things.
MJ sat in the passenger seat for the next five weeks. When you traveled to school, from school, or even during the weekends.
She was there every single time Peter came to pick you up. And to be honest, it hurt just a bit more every single time you saw her sitting in the front seat of his car.
You and Peter were supposed to go to see the new astronomical exhibition today. You were getting ready in your room when your eyes drifted over a framed picture on your vanity table. It was taken last summer, before he got his car, before MJ. You had taken it with your Kodak disposable camera in a parking lot in front of your local Target. You remember it like it was yesterday.
21. July 2018
It was around 10 p.m. when you and Peter left the target with a plastic bag of candy and a brand new disposable camera that you found in the sale aisle. You tore the safety tape away from the box and pulled out the instruction manual.
“I’m so excited; I’ve never had any of these.” You exclaimed and Peter chuckled at your happy face, threw his arm around your shoulder, and pulled you in closer to him.
“You are going to love it, it’s so fun. Especially because you have no idea how the photos are gonna turn out.” He smiled and you nodded.
“I always watch the tiktoks of people’s reactions to the developed photos, and they always look so happy, I want to try it.” you declared and pulled the camera out of the box.
“First things first bug, just a quick info, you need a lot of lightning for the photos to turn out good,” Peter explained and you waved your hand mindlessly, messing around with your temporary camera.
You quickly pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight. You put the phone on the ground in front of him and he looked at you puzzled.
“Will you do me a favor and be the first photo on this camera’s film?” You asked him and Peter nodded, acting very posh and snobby.
“It would be an honor, my lady,” he faked a bow and you burst out laughing.
“Okay smile for me,” you giggled and Peter smiled widely. He was so beautiful. Hair messy, and a hoodie a little too big on his body, with the long sleeves making cute sweater paws.
“Come onnn take the picture so we can eat the sweets,” Peter whined and you quickly snapped the picture of him. He bent down, took your phone from the ground, and turned off the flashlight.
“Come on I even got us and your fuzzy socks so your toes won’t get cold,” he said and you hugged him from behind.
“you are the best, you know that?” you mumbled and he shrugged.
“Might’ve mentioned it a few times before” You let him go and he pulled out the blanket from his backpack.
“Come on let’s sit here,” he pulled you towards the curb a few feet away from the spot you were standing at. He sat down, wrapped his arms around your legs, and rested his face on your stomach.
“Let’s sit here and eat all these delicious candies” he looked at you with wide eyes and you dragged your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp.
“Okay Doll, let’s do this,” you teased and he blushed hard.
“Stoop you know I blush when you call me that,” he complained and you laughed softly. You gently unwrapped his arms from your legs and sat down next to him.
“So, let dig in,” you rubbed your palms together and he put the bag between you two.
“I want the Reese’s,” you said and Peter handed them to you.
“Smiile,” you smushed your cheek against Peter’s and he smiled into the camera. The flash had gone off and you smiled to yourself.
“I bet this one’s gonna be so good.” He said and you nodded.
“So, as I was saying, May told me that she wants to buy me a car for my 18th birthday. I don’t know how she wants to do that but I’m not complaining.” Peter gushed and you wrapped your arms around his middle.
“I’m so happy for you, you deserve it.” You smiled and Peter continued.
“I want to take you on a road trip when we finish school. All around the US. From New York to L.A,” he looked at you hopefully and you smiled at him widely.
“That sounds so good, we can go to grand canyon and Zion and so much more, Oh my God, we will need so much more of these disposable cameras. Peter, we need so much food and tents and sleeping bags and maps.” You took a deep breath before you continued.
“We should make a checklist, we should start preparing, Peter why are we sitting here?” you asked and Peter gently shushed you by putting his pointer finger on your lips.
“We still have 2 years bug, no need to overthink it, everything is gonna be fine.” He assured you and you nodded.
“Come here,” he pulled you towards him and your head landed on his chest. You snuggled into his chest and breathed in his scent.
You were pulled back to reality when your phone rang. It was Peter.
“Hey (Y/N), we are nearly here, only about 4 minutes.” He informed and your breath got stuck in your throat. ‘WE’. MJ is coming with you. He didn’t ask, he didn’t inform you beforehand. He just invited her.
“Ummm Pete I’m suddenly not feeling very well, I think I should go and lay down, maybe you should go alone,” you mumbled and he hummed.
“Okay, get better alright? We can go somewhere tomorrow.” He suggested and you hummed in agreement, as you couldn’t do anything else without breaking down.
“Okay (Y/N) goodnight, get well soon. I’ll see you tomorrow” He didn’t wait for your response before he hung up.
You stared at the phone as the tears cascaded down your cheeks and you put no effort into stopping them. You slowly wiped off the makeup you put on just a few moments prior and threw out the cotton pad.
You stood up from your vanity and moved over to your bed. You couldn’t understand it. What have you done wrong? Just a few months prior, Peter would drop everything to be with you when you weren’t feeling that well. Now, he didn’t even ask what was wrong.
You cursed yourself as you tried to keep your sobs at bay. You lost him and it was all your fault. If you called more often or at least texted and kept in contact during the summer, everything would be fine. He wouldn’t be in his car with someone else but with you. But the more you thought about it the more your mind betrayed you,
‘Wait, he was the one to suggest that you two would stop the contact, did he get tired of you? Did he want to get rid of you? Is he sending signals by hanging out with MJ every single time they should be hanging out alone?’ the thoughts in your brain were running around before they suddenly stopped.
“He didn’t call me bug,” you realized. He always called you bug, never (Y/N). He only called you that when he was annoyed or angry with you. You started thinking back to every single hangout you had in the past 5 weeks to see if you could stumble upon a memory where you angered or annoyed him. Nothing.
Your shoulders sagged and you put your face in your hands.
“What should I do now,” you asked yourself as you tried to remain calm and not to let any more sobs out. As you looked around your room, slowly calming down, you saw a piece of Peter’s hoodie peeking out from your closet. In a rage of fury, sadness, and anger, you quickly gathered every single piece of clothing Peter ever gave you and put them in a cardboard box.
Taking out a piece of paper, you took your favorite pen and started writing a little note for your now ‘ex’ best friend.
Dear Peter, returning your clothes, maybe you can give them to MJ, now that she is your best friend and you don’t care about me. Could’ve at least told me you didn’t want me in your life anymore, instead of sending mixed signals and hurting me by that. Fuck you. – Love, (Y/N)
You signed it with fury coursing through your veins and closed the box with duct tape. You swiped the stray tears that fell down your cheeks and threw on a hoodie.
“Going out for a few minutes!” you shouted to your parents and closed the door, before hearing their response. After putting the hood up, you opened the window to the fire escape and you threw your legs over the window sill, taking the full cardboard box with you.
“Let’s do this,” you mumbled to yourself and dropped down to the ground.
The walk to Peter’s apartment didn’t take long, only about 10 minutes. But the walk felt so much longer this time, maybe because this would probably be the last time you would ever make it. You started tearing up just at that thought. You didn’t think this is how it would end. Six years of friendship ended just because you were too annoying. You shook your head and continued walking; you couldn’t afford to burst into tears in the middle of the road.
You stopped in front of Peter’s apartment and let out a shaky breath. This is it. You knew May would be at work, so you let yourself in with the key, underneath their doormat. You stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind you. You rushed into Peter’s room and threw the box on his bed. You didn’t want to linger around and experience the pain of remembering all of the memories you and Peter shared in this room.
You looked around one more time, and your eyes watered when you saw your favorite t-shirt thrown over his chair. You really wanted to take it but decided to against it. ‘He can do whatever he wants’ you thought and closed the door behind you.
The walk from his apartment wasn’t much better. But it was a bit shorter than the one before. You hadn’t had much time to think this time. You just came out of his building and in a few seconds, you were laying in your bed with tears streaming down your cheeks.
Now, that you calmed down a bit and your head cleared, you laid in your bed, looking at the ceiling, face blank of any emotion. You got pulled back into reality by your phone vibrating. You sat up and moved the phone closer to your face. It was Peter.
You had 6 missed calls and 26 unread messages from the curly-haired boy. But you decided to ignore them and turned on the airplane mode. You curled up into a ball and snuggled up into your fluffy blanket. It was going to get better, you will get better, the pain will subdue, the anger will not.
You were so damn angry at him. How could he do this to you, string you along when he doesn’t want you in his life anymore? Letting a few tears slip, you let your eyelids droop and let your mind wander into the darkness of sleep.
“I don’t understand, what does she mean by a new best friend? What does she mean by not want her in my life anymore?” Peter asked as he paced around his room, with your note crumpled up in his right hand.
“I think you did the opposite of what you wanted to do you know?” MJ interrupted him and he looked at her horrified.
“This is all my fault, I’m the reason she feels like this,” he mumbled and continued pacing in circles.
“Remind me why you wanted to do this again?” MJ scoffed and Peter stopped to think.
“To make her jealous,” he mumbled and MJ stood up and hit him across the forehead with a rolled-up engineering magazine she found randomly thrown under his pillow.
“You are so stupid, Peter. And I can’t believe I helped you. But at least I got the cute girl’s number,” she mumbled the last part and Peter ran his shaky fingers through his hair.
“I fucked up,” he announced and MJ glared at him.
“Yeah, no shit genius. Remind me how this started again. In detail and soak in just how stupid you are,” she growled out and he got lost in the painful memory.
It was around 3 weeks after his best friend left for Europe, he was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram when he saw a photo she posted just 4 hours ago. He went to like it but his thumb froze before he could double-tap. It was a photo of her smiling, looking as beautiful as ever, on a beach with a sunset behind her. But it wasn’t her that made him freeze, it was the boy that was standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. She was grinning at him, her smile shining brighter than all of the stars in the night sky.
“Who the fuck are you?” Peter mumbled to himself as he looked over more of the photos in the post. As he scrolled, the pair of them only grew closer on the pictures. Them sharing a meal, them in the sea, them on a carnival with a huge green teddy bear in her arms. Just from the last picture, it was clear that the boy won the plushie in one of those shitty scam carnival games Peter couldn’t play even if he really wanted to.
But what really got him, was the post from her private Instagram, the boy from the previous photos was kissing her on the corner of her mouth. Tears gathered up in his eyes as he exited the app and ran his shaky fingers through his hair.
‘Could she have a boyfriend? But she didn’t tell me,’ his breathing got quicker and he had a sudden urge to puke. Before he could stop himself, he opened his contacts app and scrolled to find MJ’s phone number, she could help him.
“Hey, I know this is a lot to ask but I need you to help me make my best friend jealous.” Those words came from his mouth before he could even think about them.
“I told you before you started with this stupid plan of yours that it won’t work out,” MJ snapped him out of his mind. Peter stared into the distance before he snapped out of it.
“I need to go and see her, I need to explain,” Peter rushed out before MJ stopped him.
“You need to give her some time, she wouldn’t want to see you, and only get angry or even more upset.” She explained and Peter nodded in understatement.
“You are right, I will let her cool off for a week, and then talk to her,” Peter concluded. MJ blinked in surprise.
“Are you sure you want to give her a week? I was thinking more like 2 days, not 7,” MJ said cautiously and Peter huffed out angrily.
“God, why are you so cryptic, why can’t you just tell me and help,”
“Because this is your relationship, that is on line, not mine. And you want me to solve this for you,” MJ raised her voice and Peter rolled his eyes.
“God, this is useless” he mumbled and the girl in front of him scoffed.
“I can just leave if that’s what you want,” She stood up to leave but Peter grabbed her forearm gently.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just really anxious and I want to see her. But you are right, I shouldn’t leave her without explanation for such a long period of time,” Peter apologized and MJ nodded.
“I need to go, mum wants to watch this new movie she saw in Target, I’ll text you okay?”
“Okay bye, enjoy the movie,” Peter mumbled and MJ walked out of his room.
“Great Parker, just great,” he mumbled to himself as he watched her leave through his window.
2 days later
Peter was standing in front of your school, waiting for you to finish. The last two days have been torture for him and he couldn’t wait to talk to you. When he heard the bell ring on the inside of the building, he stood up from the bench he was sitting on and moved closer to the main entrance, just a precaution and so he wouldn’t miss you walking out.
He started to get worried when he didn’t see you walk out even after 15 minutes.
‘Maybe they had some science lab and are cleaning up or something he thought to himself to calm down a bit. Then, he saw one of your friends, Bee, walk out and he waved at them.
“Hey, she isn’t here today,” Bee said to Peter. He only frowned. That’s weird.
“Okay, thanks Bee, do you think she could be at home? Is she sick?” Peter asked and Bee frowned at him.
“I thought you were best friends, you don’t know where she is?” Bee asked him and Peter looked down looking very guilty.
“We had a fight,” he mumbled and Bee scoffed.
“Well, I guess you fucked up pretty bad because she never misses school.”
“I know, I fucked up and I hurt her, but I just want to make it better, I gave her time to cool off and now, I need to apologize,” Peter explained and Bee nodded their head.
“Okay Parker, last chance, if you hurt her to this extent ever again, I’ll kick you in the balls.” Bee threatened and Peter nodded.
“Don’t worry, this is the first and last time this has ever happened, won’t hurt her ever again, I promise,” Peter said and Bee could tell his words were genuine.
“Fine Parker go, and if she is not at school tomorrow, you are a dead man, I’m telling you that right now.”
“Don’t worry Bee, I’m going to make this right,” Peter promised as he walked away from your school.
“Honey, someone is here to see you,” Your mom called out and you looked from under your blanket. You couldn’t function correctly for the past few days, the loss of your best friend being too much to bear.
“Tell them to go away please,” you mumbled and she shook her head sadly. You stopped crying a while ago, no tears left in your body.
You heard a gentle knock on your door.
“Hey bug,” You whipped your head towards the voice, and the tears you thought ran out, welled up in your eyes. He was there, even after he exchanged you for someone else.
“Pete,” you whispered and he quickly walked towards you and sat on your bed. You threw yourself into his arms but then quickly pulled back and furrowed your eyebrows.
“What are you doing here?” you asked and Peter shook his head.
“I came to apologize, I hurt you by my actions and made you think something, that isn’t true at all,” he explained and you tilted your head, reminding Peter of a cute, confused puppy.
“I will just tell you the truth, and hope you will be able to forgive me.”
“I was jealous. It’s simple as that, and now that I’ve said it out loud, it sounds so stupid.” He took a deep breath and slowly tangled his fingers in yours.
“The truth is, I have feelings for you. You know what? Scratch that, I’m in love with you and have been for a long time. When I saw you with the guy in Europe, being all cute and sweet together, I just lost it.” He confessed and looked up to see your face. You had an unreadable expression on your face.
“Fuck, he even got you a huge teddy bear from the carnival scam games, I could never do that for you, and I know you love that corny stuff.” He said with a shaky voice and could feel the tears push into his eyes.
“I wanted to make you jealous, but I hurt you instead and that hurts me even more than seeing you with that boy.” He said and then kneeled on the floor beside your bed. He took your other hand into his and kissed your knuckles gently.
“I’m so sorry Bug, please forgive me,” he begged as he put his forehead against your hand. The tears that gathered in his eyes flowed freely down his perfect face and it hurt you to see him like this. You took your hand away from his and you could see the quick flash of pain on his face. You caught one tear with your finger and whispered.
“Please don’t cry, I’m going to cry too,” he quickly looked up and smiled sadly, when he saw your sunken and tired face.
“I forgive you, Peter.” You said with a crack in your voice.
“And you know, it actually worked out, I was so jealous when I saw you with her.” You confessed.
“I love you too Peter, I always have” you whispered and Peter’s face lit up with joy.
“You, do?” He asked and you nodded with a slight smile on your face.
“I do, so so much,” You caressed his cheek, shuffled closer to him, and kissed him on the forehead.
“Come here and lay with me,” you demanded and Peter chuckled.
“Well, what my lovebug wants, she gets.” Peter teased and you hid your face in the blanket.
“I kinda like it,” you whispered shyly and Peter laughed lightly.
“Scoot over love, let me lay with you.” You shuffled over and Peter slipped under your blanket. He laid down and slowly maneuvered your body, to lay comfortably on his chest.
“We’ll talk more tomorrow, we’ll work it out, I promise.” You mumbled and Peter nodded and kissed the top of your head.
“I love you, Peter”
“I love you my Bug,” It was quiet for a bit before Peter spoke once again.
“So, who was the boy in the photos?”
I'm sorry I kind of disappeared for two months, but I had an extreme case of writer's block, but I am back. But I still have no ideas so if you have any ideas, I would be forever thankful if you pitched them to me.
I would also like to thank you for 97 followers, it's unbelievable.
I would really appreciate it if you gave me some feedback and told me what I can change.
Thanks for reading
- Faye xxx
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turbolisedcomet · 2 days ago
Summary: For the first time you feel like you have finally found home and most importantly someone who sees you for who you are.
Author’s note: So, this might hit too close to home for some of you because daddy issues and whatnot. If you’re going through anything abusive in any kind of relationship and need to vent feel free to dm me. I hope this can bring comfort to all of you. And Reblogs and comments are appreciated.
Pairings: Bucky x reader(any race)
Word count: 2.2k+
Warnings:( tw) daddy issues like a literal monster of a father,angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, toxic father.
“Love, do we need to buy more syrup?” Bucky asks, holding up a bottle of syrup and the shopping basket in the other.
“Oh yeah, we do. Thanks for remembering, Jamie.” You say giving him a kiss on his cheek, where you felt heat rise up under your lips. This big hunk of a man was the most adorable being to exist, you could swear on that with your whole life. He gives you a boyish grin as he drops the bottle into the basket and takes your hand.
It was mornings like these filled with domesticity that you always looked forward to with Bucky. It made both of you feel normal and grounded. 
Growing up around people who never seemed to care for what you wanted and always taught you to never speak your mind was not the best to say the least. For years you never got a taste of freedom, independence or even the feeling that you are enough. Que the entry of Bucky Barnes into your life like the hopeful ray of sunshine after years and years of storm and rain. Clearly this man did not understand how much he flipped your world upside down. How he made you feel like you could actually breathe. He always insisted that you were the miracle in his life, the one who pulled him out of an abyss of sorrow and hopelessness. Both of you were right. Both of you were absolute blessings in each other’s life. The two of you met at a time where you as well as him were lost.  But, with each passing year, both of you fixed each other and gave all the love and affection to compensate for all the years neither of you had received any and in the process you and Bucky fixed yourselves too. Neither of you were showing any signs of letting go of the other ever. Long story short, life was a blissful dream when you both had each other in your lives. 
You stand back in the women’s hygiene aisle as you watch your boyfriend grab a box of tampons/pads/menstrual cups for you from the top shelf.
“ Here we go. Now I don't have to rush out of our house to get you these.” Bucky says, his eyes softening and heart fluttering at the breathy laugh that left your mouth.
“ Don't be so sure about that. Now I'm just going to make up excuses just to see you rush out of our house.” You say giving him a playful jab on his side with your elbows to which he smiled an eye-crinkling smile and kissed the top of your head.
 His life was good. The best. He doesn't remember the last time he felt so satisfied with everything going on in his life. Bucky Barnes was finally learning to live his life to the fullest all because of his angel. His (Y/N). He yearned for those soft touches on his skin, the way you kiss the tip of his nose, the way you would curl up in his lap and snuggle into his chest. Unlike all the times before, you made him feel wanted for good reasons. He was well aware of everything that you had gone through since your childhood. Even before you told him about it, he could make out from your need of constant validation, attention and assurance that you were enough. He went out of his way every single day since he met you to make you see and realize how much you mean to him, how amazing and otherworldly you are. He hated that you thought so low of yourself but, he hated your father the most for making you feel this way. 
The moment you told him everything and how you were brought up and the effect that kind of upbringing had on you, he wanted to do nothing more than make your father regret acting the way he acted towards his angel. But, he couldn't do that . You were finally at peace, enjoying your life with your man and was starting to see your worth. He didn't want to ruin that and bring more mayhem into your life. He knew he would get a chance to give your father a piece of his mind. He just had to wait for it. Even with your insecurities, in his eyes you were the strongest person he has ever come across. Handling him wasn't the easiest task, he knew that way too well. But then, there you were not even considering it to be a task or job and loving him just because you could and wanted to. You were so strong and brave for opening up to him, letting him help you, for being so patient with him and never giving up on him. There was nothing either of you wouldn’t  do for each other and in the end that's all that mattered.
“ We have bought everything we need, right? Is there anything left?” Bucky asks with a soft smile that never fails to make butterflies erupt in your tummy.
“ Yeah we've got everything we need, Jamie.” You say returning the same smile before walking towards the billing counter with his hand in yours.
“ (Y/N), my sweet girl, it's been so long since I’ve seen you.” That voice made you stop in your tracks, eyes widened and fear took over your body. It was a completely normal response to that voice. You turn around, hand clenching Buck’s as you face your father who was right in front of you.
Bucky’s blood boiled at the sight of him, already ready to lurch at him and knock him out but his girl needed him by his side right now.
“ Father. Good seeing you here.” The fear in your voice made Bucky’s heart throb but he was so proud of you for staying strong. You were talking to him like how one would with a stranger where they would put on a formal behaviour to please the person and no one deserved to talk to their own father like they were someone they weren't. No one deserves to feel the need to hide their real self due to the fear of not pleasing their father.
“ Aren't you going to give your dad a hug?” He asks, almost like he was mocking you. You walk over to give him a quick hesitant hug while Bucky never lets your hand out of his. 
“ New boytoy, huh? What was the other one's name? Trevor? Bet you drained all of his money.” There it was , the insulting. Before you could respond, Bucky already had him pinned against the nearest wall. If you weren't so traumatized by your father, you would have felt scared for him.
“ Don't ever speak about my girl like that ever again and stay the fuck out of her life if you know whats good for you.” Bucky says through gritted teeth, the veins in his neck bulging and his chest heaving with rage. People have already started to gather around watching the whole scene unfold and the last thing you wanted was videos of The Winter Soldier beating up someone.
“ Boy, if you know what's good for you, you’ll leave her or she’s going to end up leaving you when she has finished using you and realize that you have nothing more to give her. And I’ll gladly stay out of her life. I have more interesting things to do than wanting to know what goes on in a whore’s life.” Bucky snapped at the words that left your father’s mouth and within seconds he was punching him at a rapid pace and you knew if you didn't stop him it was going to end up bad.
“ Bucky stop. Please let's go home.” You beg but he was too caught up in trying to make your father regret his words. People had their phones out and were filming now and you were terrified of the world seeing what was happening without any context.
“ Hey, what's happening here?” You turn around and see two security guards hurrying towards Bucky. Oh God no. 
“ Stay back, mister. Stop this right now.” One of them shouts as they try to pull him away from your father who falls to the ground clutching his now unrecognisable.
“ STAY AWAY FROM HER, I MEAN IT.” With that Bucky lets himself free from the guards’ grips and takes your hand as the two of you walk out of the store.
The ride back home was quiet and tense. You could still feel the anger radiating off of him and the best thing to do would be to give him some time to cool off. Bucky on the other hand was not sorry about beating your father up. He deserved it. What he was terrified of was the thought that maybe he had scared you by his violent actions. What if he reminded you of your father? What if you no longer wanted to be with someone who could get so violent? Or worse, what if you thought he would behave so violently towards you? Bucky’s mind was racing with these terrifying thoughts.
By the time the two of you reached home, you were asleep on your seat .
"Sweetheart, wake up, we're home." Bucky says gently caressing your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, a small groan leaving your lips which earned a chuckle from Bucky. He gets out of the car and walks towards your side, opening the door for you as you climb out, immediately wrapping your arms around his left one, pressing your cheek against his upper arm, not letting go throughout the whole walk towards your apartment. The gesture made Bucky's heart expand as he let out a sigh of relief after giving you a soft smile.
The moment both of you entered the apartment, you dragged him to the bathroom to clean up the cuts on his face. Silently pull the necessary items from the cabinets, you hop onto the sink counter and pull him to stand between your legs. Before you could start cleaning up his face, he takes your hands in his and rests his forehead on yours, his eyes closed as well as yours.
“ I’m not sorry for beating him up.” He says, emitting a breathy laugh from you and to say he was relieved hearing the casual sound would be an understatement.
“ I wouldn't be sorry either so don’t worry.”  You say, with your eyes still closed and this time it was his chance to release a chuckle.
“ Why are you with me , Jamie? What makes you so sure that I wouldn't do what he told you I would?” You ask, genuinely wanting to know the answer. All these years you were doing so good not letting your father get into your head, but he had to show up and ruin everything like always.
“Sweetheart.” He sighed before continuing, “ You listen to me okay? Do not let him get inside your head. Don't give him what he wants (Y/N), he doesn't deserve that kind of satisfaction. And I know that everything he told is not true because I know my angel for who she is unlike him. My angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me, the best thing to ever exist on this planet. So, don't you dare question your worth because of him. Promise me that.” He says, boring those gorgeous eyes filled with so much love and adoration into yours. You have no idea what huge deed you have done in your life to ever deserve him but you're not complaining either. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you with so much passion, that you can feel his love for you radiating off of him, enveloping you completely as his arms wrap around your body , holding you so preciously and fuck you havent felt so bloody special ever in your life.
“ You know what? Let's go on a vacation.  A road trip.” Bucky suggests, breathless from the intimate moment. This pulls an amused laugh from you.
“ Aroad trip? Really?” You ask, your voice filled with excitement and Bucky can't help but give you a kiss on your forehead as he hears the excitement in your voice.
“ Yes, really.”
“ Right now?”
“ Right now.”
“ We gotta pack. Race you to our room." He says right before bolting out, chuckling and you follow him, ' you little shit' said under your breath, both of your laughter filling the whole house.
You were happy. You were content and as long as you had your man by your side there's nothing that would change that. Shitty fathers be damned .
A/n(2): again I would love some feedback/comments so that I know what I should be working on
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ambrosiase · 6 hours ago
𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙨
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pairing: ex!dilf!sam wilson x fem!reader
concept: whether it was sharing stolen birthday cake or birthday sex — traditions were important. even if you weren’t technically together.
warnings: exes to lovers, so there’s a smidge of angst but mostly fluff with a hopeful ending. smut. barely there daddy kink, good ol’ fashion birthday {unprotected} sex. dirty talk, blowjobs, fingering, light choking.
word count: 3.2k
from the writer: please ignore that this is a day late lol i’m still on a mini hiatus but i couldn’t not post something for our favourite guy — happy birthday to captain america, mr sam wilson himself, the exceptionally talented and loml anthony mackie. thank you for fuelling all my fantasises, king. also if this sucks, i’m sorry but i feel like i have genuinely lost any talent i once possessed for writing lmao
eighteen plus only — by choosing to ‘keep reading’, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. do not interact with this story if you are a minor.
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A permanent, kind-hearted grin is stretched across Sam’s features. The sound of never-ending laughter, and scenes of pure enjoyment filling the backyard as his family and closest friends celebrate his birthday.
Though he’s overwhelmed with an abundance of contentment, the sort that fills your chest with heaving gratitude, there’s still a pang in his heart as he feels the ache of loneliness by his side — the side you used to stand by.
His gaze falls to yours, watching wistfully as you converse with his sister, throwing your head back at something humorous Sarah had said. It makes him want to reach out for you, bring you back into his arms and never make the mistake of letting go again.
The two of you had been separated for three months, and it was the worst twelve weeks of his life — but you were trying again, and Sam knew he couldn’t ruin his second chance. He’d been in love with you for as long as he could remember, and he wasn’t giving up on it. Not after the beautiful life the two of you had created.
As his eyes meet yours, timid smiles on your faces, it reminds him of the beginning; the shyness, the giddiness, the butterflies — it humbles him, grounding him to the moment before he’s being distracted.
“Papa?” Their oldest, Stevie, tugs on the hem of his shirt. “When are we gon’have cake?”
Sam chuckles softly, leaning down so that he can pick up his daughter and balance her on his hip. “I’m not too sure, princess.”
Her answering grown is amusing, the dramatics of his daughter never failing to melt his heart, just like her daddy, you’d always say with an adoring smile.
“What if…” Sam’s voice is barely more than a whisper, “We sneak into the house and have some?”
“But Papa,” Stevie gasps, as though this hasn’t been their tradition since she’d learnt how to eat solids, “Isn’t that stealing?”
And maybe it’s not the best life lesson to be teaching his kids but he shrugs nonetheless, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Their pinky promise seals the deal.
They hush each other for giggling as Sam pulls the cake out from the fridge after successfully sneaking away from the party. One shared slice with two forks as they clink their utensils together, wide brazen grins reflecting.
“Well, well, well…”
Caught strawberry cream handed, the two almost look sheepish as you stand in the entryway but all Sam can focus on is the emerald green dress you have on. “I’d say I’m shocked, but I’m not.”
“Mama!” Stevie laughs with her belly but not before finishing her bite, “How you know we be in here?”
Your nose scrunches, an endearing quirk that Sam swears is one of the reasons he could never say no to you. “Well my little cake thieves, let’s just call it intuition.”
“Das not real, Mama.”
Before you can respond, Winnie; Sarah and Bucky’s five year old, comes barrelling through the kitchen. “Steebie! Dada said he’d let us hang off his arm again!”
It takes less than a second, for them to rush outside with elated squeals, leaving you alone with Sam.
“C’mere sugar,” the old nickname causes heat to bloom, memories of the word being etched into your skin with his lips. “I saved a piece, know it’s your favourite.”
And of course he knows, the two of you had devoted yourselves to one another for over two decades. From smearing the dessert onto the other’s cheeks as teens, to pressing sweet kisses against each other’s lips as adults.
Tension sizzles, like open flames from crackling firewood as you take cautious steps towards him, as though it’d pacify the wildfire that burns through both of your veins.
It was familiar, the way his hands would find your waist without so much as a second thought, helping you to sit on the counter and pretend his touch doesn’t linger a moment too long.
“Are you enjoying today?” Your tone is light, keeping it friendly, as though he can’t see the way your thighs slightly tremble as he comes to stand between them.
Sam nods, but doesn’t mask the apprehension on his face, “It’s as good as it can be.” He wonders if you hear his silent, without having you.
Your eyes stay on his form as he takes a piece of cake onto a fork, bringing it up for you to have. In what he assumes as a moment of impromptu courage, you lean forward and wrap your lips around it — biting down as your gaze stays locked on his.
A deep groan emits from his throat at the same time a delicate moan falls from yours. Sam watches as you pull back, licking your lips with the hint of a smirk. “Delicious.”
“God, it ain’t fair.” Sam drops the fork to the counter, hands coming to grip onto the space between your hips and thighs, “Y’know how I feel about you in that dress, sweetheart.”
“Oh this old thing?” And there it is, that teasing lilt that he knew all too well, “I just threw it on.”
“‘M sure you did, sugar.”
Gentle hands reach out, holding the sides of his face as you bring yours close to him, noses brushing. “Or maybe I wore it just for you daddy,” he curses under his breath at the title, “Tradition, right?”
His self-control is waning, wondering whether or not you’re playing him but the look you give is too sincere, “S’ that right?”. Sam swears he can almost taste the berry lipgloss you wear. “That mean you gonna give daddy his birthday kisses too?”
Your sharp intake of breath fills his chest with pride — he’s still got it. Twenty years later, and your eyes still manage to glaze over at the title as soon as he indulges you.
“Whatever the birthday man wants,” your lips brush over his sensually, “The birthday man gets.”
Before Sam can give you both what you want, the clearing of a throat makes you both jump back. Looking over, you see Sarah, whose expression can only be described as smug. “If you two aren’t busy, everyone is ready to eat.”
A bashful smile is thrown Sam’s way before you’re jumping off the table and making a beeline outside. “Not one word,” he mutters before walking past Sarah who just snorts.
“I didn’t even say anything.”
The rest of the night goes by with fleeting touches and longing stares, and Sam can’t help but wonder if the moment shared earlier meant as much to you, as it did to him. He hoped it did.
As the last of the guests leave, Sam finally takes a second to himself before turning in for the night. He’d gotten so caught up with Bucky, that he hadn’t noticed you’d wandered off. Not until he’s unbuttoning his shirt as he enters his bedroom, doing a double-take because there you are; with your hands in your lap as you sit patiently on the edge of the bed that was once yours too.
“Stevie and Eli are asleep,” you inform him, “I put them to bed while you were saying your goodbyes.”
“Thanks sugar.” Sam’s smile is genuine, but the implication of your words hang heavy in the air and he watches as one of your legs cross over the other. “What’re you doin’ in ‘ere?”
Biting your lip coyly, you look up at him through your lashes as you reach out and pull him towards you by the belt loops of his jeans. “You looked good today,” your fingers fiddle with the fabric and Sam feels his pants tighten. “Happy.”
He can’t help himself as he reaches out to grip the cleft of your chin, making you look directly at him. “Sugar, I ain’t gonna ask again,” he reprises his dominance easily, not letting you avoid his questioning. “Why are you in here?”
Your hand travels downwards, brushing over the tent that’s risen as you say, “Felt wrong going home, not without givin’ you those birthday kisses.”
“S’that so?” A groan leaves his throat as you palm over his erection, “You wanted to come and treat me, hm?”
The answer comes in the form of you pulling down his pants, eyes widening at how proudly his member stands — thick and heavy as precum begins to ooze at the slit.
Sam guides you off the bed, “Go on, sugar.” Helping you on your knees as his thumb strokes your cheek. “It’s all yours.”
Wet heat envelops his cock, your tongue licking the underside as it traces a pulsing vein. One of your hands wraps around the base, stroking the shaft as you drool saliva; he loved a messy blowjob — the way you choked on your own spit never failed to make him shoot a load down your throat.
“That’s it sugar, take my dick, just like that baby.”
He couldn’t even remember how long it’d been since the two of you had been intimate like this, and he doesn’t know what caused you to be so forward — but he’ll worry about that in the morning. Right now, his favourite woman was on his knees for him, and that was his main priority.
You take him deeper, nose brushing the curly hairs of his groin as your hands move to grip his ass; motioning for him take control as your fingernails dig into his flesh.
With a hiss, and a hand to the back of your hand, he pulls himself out before fucking his way back in. The pace he sets is almost punishing, it’s desperate and intense and he swears he only gets harder at the way you choke on his length.
On one particularly brutal thrust, Sam holds you in place as you deepthroat him; your saliva drooling from the corners of your mouth and down onto his balls. A rough yank backwards, and suddenly he’s got your mouthing at the sensitive and full sack, chest rumbling at how eagerly you taste them.
He can feel his orgasm simmering, knowing that if he doesn’t stop you now then it’ll be over before it really begins. Sam steps away, and you barely have a chance to question it before he’s leaning down and bringing you into a passionate kiss.
It’s hot and needy, like you’re both trying to savour as much of the other as possible. The kiss is bruising, almost unkind as Sam fucks his tongue into your mouth the same way his dick had barely a minute ago.
“You’re so fuckin’ perfect for me, sugar.” He pulls you so that you’re upright, and then your back is meeting the mattress as Sam follows. “Don’t think I can let you go again after this.”
The sentiment leaves his lips, and for a moment he worries if he’s gone too far — but you offer him a promising smile, “So don’t.” And then you’re kissing again, tearing off each other’s clothes as you let yourself get lost in the knowing, intimate touches.
Sam’s fingers dip between your folds at the same time his lips trail down your neck, grinning into it at the long moan that’s withdrawn. “Look at that, so wet for me, sugar.”
“All for you,” your hips roll as his thumb sweeps over your clit while two fingers spread your juices around the flesh. “Fuck, you make me feel so good Sam.”
His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue while he pushes two fingers inside your waiting hole. “Still so tight for me, baby. Haven’t been fucked good have you?”
Your head shakes no, a cry coming from you at how well he remembers your body — how to make you tremble for him. It takes him less than a few strokes to find that rough spongy spot, curving his fingers upwards as he hits it over and over again.
“Sam!” You try not to be too loud, part of your brain still aware that you two aren’t alone in the house, but you’re so closing to losing all inhibition as you tell him, “‘M so fuckin’ close.”
Teeth scrape along your nipple and you bend up into the sensation before Sam’s mouth is on yours again, “Go on, sugar. Let go for me.”
You’re so close, teetering on the edge that’s waiting for a final push.
“If you want daddy’s cock, baby. We gotta get your cunt all loose and wet, so c’mon. Show me how bad you want it, fuckin’ gush all over me.”
Your walls clench down on his fingers, grinding down onto them as your orgasm rips through your body. He guides you through it, watching the way your eyes roll and legs quiver as it takes over your entire body.
Satisfaction fills every pore at knowing he did that — that he could still do that to you.
Removing his fingers, he brings them to his mouth, tasting you with a growl. “Pussy so sweet, makes me wanna drown in it.”
Your hands come up to his shoulders, “Later. Right now, I just want you.”
“You have me, sugar.”
He coats his dick with your juices, rubbing it through your folds before slapping your clit a couple of times with a soft laugh at your pleas and whines.
“Ready, baby?” At your enthusiastic consent, Sam breaches your entrance with the tip of his cock, steadying himself as he slowly presses forward.
The two of you moan in unison at the feeling, it’d been so long since you’d been together like this, and fuck had he missed it.
“S’big,” your tone is breathy, feeling your walls stretch to accomodate to his size as they welcome him home.
He chuckles at your flustered state, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Too long,” and once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, another moan falls from you. “Definetly too fucking long.”
He stills for a moment while inside you, trying to calm himself from busting too soon at how tight and warm you feel around him.
It must be too long for your liking, because all too soon you’re whimpering for him to move. “Please Sammy,” the nickname is sweet on your tongue, “Just wanna feel you.”
Sam fucks you like he’d never stopped, like it hadn’t been months since he’d last had you underneath him like this. God, you were so beautiful to him; the glow on your skin making you look angelic.
It was so easy falling in sync with one another’s bodies. Sam’s grip is harsh on your hips, thrusting rough as his tongue massages yours. “Missed this pussy, fuckin’ swear it’s heaven around me.”
“S-Sam,” his name falls like a prayer as you crash your lips against his, licking your way inside his mouth as your tongues meet in a sensual dance.
He has one hand gripping your thigh as it hooks around his waist, while the other comes to rest on your throat. Gently, the pads of his fingers press onto the sides of your neck; it’s possessive, a reminder that he’s the one above you. It makes you even wetter.
“Can feel you squeezin’ my cock sugar, you close?”
At his question, you nod before meeting his hips with yours, fucking yourself down onto his cock as best as you can.
“Alright, come on darlin’” he hadn’t called you that in what felt like years, the endearment reminding you of the nights you spent together before you started fighting and you can’t help the tears that form in your eyes as you do.
He knows you too well, can read the thoughts you’re thinking, and with a tenderness he was yet to gift, he slows to a dirty grind. Forehead resting against yours as he finds your hands with his, bringing them above your head as he interlocks your fingers.
“I’m sorry, darlin’,” Sam inhales the shaky breaths you exhale, “So fuckin’ sorry.”
“Me too, Sammy,” your lips touch gently, “Me too.”
There’s more work needed to be done besides an apology, but it’s the best start the two of you have had so far in your attempt at reconciliation.
You share languid kisses, Sam’s thrusts never faltering but when his tip grazes your cervix — you’re crying out his name, the tension falling back over as you feel your second orgasm approach.
His pace fastens, letting go of one of your hands so that he can reach down rub your bundle of nerves. “Go on, baby. Cream my cock, wanna feel you cum all over it,” he encourages you, “Wanna see you lose it for me.”
It doesn’t take long, not with the way his cock hits your g-spot the same time his flicks your bud one more time. Head thrown back, you feel yourself cum around his cock, clenching down as you’re overcome with white hot pleasure as it burns through your veins.
“Shit, darlin,” Sam groans, “You look so pretty coming all over daddy’s cock.”
You squeeze his hand in yours as he fucks you through your release, and he can’t help but kiss you again at the way you completely let yourself go for him. Sam feels his own release chasing him, his balls seizing up as it gets closer.
“Sammy,” your voice is barely above a whisper as you gaze lovingly into his eyes, “Wanna feel you cum inside of me, want you to fill me up daddy.”
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, muscles tensing as he feels his cock pulse and then, he’s cumming — seed painting your walls and he shudders at the way your cunt greedily drinks it in.
The two of you catch your breaths, a comfortable silence falling over you both as he holds your body underneath his. He presses delicate kisses into your naked skin wherever he can, all the while he feels your hands soothingly massage his back.
Once he deems you ready, Sam slowly extracts himself from your cunt, groaning at how it begs for him to stay inside. “C’mon darlin’, gotta get you cleaned up.”
You let him go hesitantly, and Sam feels you watching as he walks into the ensuite. He grabs a wash cloth, running it under warm water before coming back to you. As gently as he can, he widens your legs apart and cleans you up, kissing your stomach at the way you hiss from the oversensitivity.
The two of you stay silent, no words exchanged as he finishes up and puts the washcloth in the laundry basket.
“Hope you don’t have any clothes in there,” you joke, “They’ll get wet.”
Sam snorts, “Tomorrow’s laundry day.”
“Ah,” you turn to him with a cheeky grin, “Finally learnt how to do it, huh?”
He pinches your side as he comes to lay next to you in the bed, softly laughing at your playful teasing.
“It’s good,” you tell him and he hears the nerves in your voice, “Means you won’t need me around.”
Sam looks to you, reaching out to hold the side of your face so he can turn it towards him. “I was an asshole,” his voice is one of regret, “And I took you for granted, and darlin’, I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
He holds his breath as he waits for your response, watching a litany of emotions pass over your features before he hears you resign, “We’ve got a long way to go.”
“I know,” but hope flutters in his chest at the way you settle yourself into his arms.
“But we’ll get there.”
“Yeah darlin’,” Sam promises, “We’ll get there.”
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undiscovered-horizon · 4 hours ago
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Imagine being Loki's past lover. While he's captured by TVA and put into the Time Cell, they don't replay his memory with Sif: they make him watch you die over and over again.
Before Loki could protest or attempt to explain himself, Mobius used his tempad and the hunters pushed him through the just-opened orange portal.
The world around him changed. It was no longer the TVA facility, no, it was something he could recognize even in the most feverish of dreams. Truthfully, he always wished he could just forget that place, push those memories out of existence.
Loki stood in the middle of a burning, trashed market. He remembered well the reason: Odin promised to help a small kingdom under a siege, and so he sent both his sons and their friends into the battlefield. The distant sounds of fighting and screaming were ringing in his ears. Smoke and ash limited his vision.
"Are you okay?" A voice spoke behind him.
At that moment, his heart froze. If this was all just a well-fabricated illusion used to torture him, how did they get her voice so right? The little higher intonation each time she asked a question, the warmth and kindness that spilled from each word that left her mouth? What cursed sorcery could reconstruct her so perfectly?
"(Y/N)?" He asked sheepishly as he turned around.
She looked exactly as he remembered her: dirt and blood stuck to her face, hair wet from sweat. The angle of the scar on her cheek was too perfectly measured for all of this to be a simple illusion, a fabricated vision. Her golden armor and the spear in her hand reflected afternoon sunlight. He didn't remember that day to be as warm as it was now.
"Loki, is everything alright?" She asked.
It was cruel. There was nothing humane about making her speak his name. Searching for a demon that wouldn't shiver at such malice could be in vain. If he was wrong, and all that he was seeing and hearing now was but a mere illusion, the TVA was more cruel than should be possible.
"The west gate was freed. Not much until we win." She said with a hint of hope in her voice. But he knew, and perhaps this was the cruelest torture of all, that she will not win that battle. (Y/N) never knew the outcome of this pitiful war.
"You have to hide," he said suddenly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"It's not safe, you have to hide."
"What's gotten into you, Loki? We're at war, of course we're not safe."
He wanted to tell her but he hesitated. If it's just an illusion, his words do not matter. They never did. And if that's how things were, the only thing left for him to do, was enjoy the little time he had left with you, even if it wasn't real. A mere pathetic fantasy was unequivocally better than the reality you were not a part of. He knew the worst moment was approaching, threatening to happen at any second.
"You were always the best," Loki whispered more to himself than to you.
And just then a loud whistle broke the silence around you and before either of you could even look around for its source, a spear pierced your chest, its head buried deep in the soil beneath your feet.
Your mouth was agape, threatening to spill a sound, a scream of agony, but none of it came: silent, with watery eyes, you looked at Loki one last time in your life.
Trails of red blood looked absolutely beautiful running down the golden armor.
Loki remembered that someone once said the world will not end with a bang but instead with a whimper. At that moment, staring at your pale face, did he finally understand what it meant: the world does not end abruptly, suddenly, but rather, it fades away, like the light in your eyes.
He clenched his fists and wanted to scream. You were dead, again. Loki knew it was a cruel torture when your impaled corpse disappeared but the barren market remained. He was stuck in a time loop, there was no doubt about that.
And although the world burned like Hell's lakes of fire, and although his rage knew no limit nor mercy, the flames will be quickly extinguished with the beginning of a new loop when he hears your soft voice call out to him again.
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titaniumstark · 5 months ago
The fanfiction writers who create wonderful stories and put lots of work and dedication so they can share them with us and we can enjoy them as well:
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The people who steal their work and repost them on Wattpad:
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becca-e-barnes · 3 months ago
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!
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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.
@stucky-my-ship @caprimourne
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White Bread
Chris Evans x Actress!Reader Summary: Literally all the evidence suggests you and Chris are together, just give up. "No (:" -you Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: Fluff, i still used Y/N grrrrrrrrr, actress au, crack fic lol, etc.
A/N: So this is kind of like a part 2 to 'Dude She's Just Not Into You' but not really cos you dont need the context of the first one for this ALSO this is not a series, I just felt there was still inspiration from the last fic so like I'm making another one!!! Here's a p3 i guess lol
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I raise a hand and shake my head, "okay, let's get one thing straight. I do not call Chris white bread because of what you may think."
Chris bursts into laughter. The interviewer in front of us chuckles and motions that I continue. I shift in my seat, "one day-"
"Oh my gosh," Chris sighs, knowing where it was going.
"I was eating a sandwich with chocolate spread--"
"It was one time!" he says, pitch rising.
I snap at him, "one time is all it takes, white bread."
"Dear goodness, I regret it everyday."
"You better," I raise my brows, "anyway, he took the sandwich from my hand and ate it in front of me."
"I gave it back! It was a joke."
I scoff and cross my arms, "oh, okay, so I'm just a joke to you?"
Chris sighs and shakes his head, "mom, I wanna go home."
"Well too darn bad!"
@cornspice: okay hear me out. if water is a liquid but can turn into solid and gas, chris evans and y/f/n HAVE to be dating @chrisevansdailykrr: Chris and Y/N where spotted walking holding hands. [image attatched] @y/f/nsource: [replying to @chrisevansdailykrr] yes but y/n be doing that to everyone rip @y/ny/nily: [replying to @y/f/nsource] sadly yes, bruv aint special 💔 @marrymeplzy/n: IM GOING FERAL @ChrisEvans JUST WENT ON A DATE WITH Y/N IN A PARK HOLDING HANDS N SAME COLORED TOPS F- @marvelsloot: Okay. So. Chris. And. Y/N. Are. Just. Randomly. Saying. They. Are. Dating. ?. What. About. My. Mental. Health. ? @muricasass: [replying to @marvelsloot] LITERALLY THEY JUST SAY FINE WERE DATING UH WHAT MAAM @buckysthiqthighs: [replying to @marvelsloot] IT HURTS CAUSE I CANT TELL IF THEYRE SARCASTIC OR NOT @wankanda4evah: [replying to @buckysthiqthighs] This is what we get for stanning sarcastic actors 😭
5 minute TMZ video of paparazzi following Chris and Y/N captioned: "We're just friends," yeah right.
One of the guys in the TMZ office explains to their boss, "we found Chris Evans and Y/F/N walking around," the room gets excited, the dude does jazz hands and makes a face, "holding hands, eating ice cream, y'know things friends would do."
One of the girls sat down looks to that man who was speaking, "that's a lot of bullshit."
"Right?" one chimes in.
Another points out, "they even confirmed they were dating in one interview--"
Cut to the narrator explaining that "they're so darn sarcastic, it's hard to say if they were serious or not."
Back to one of the girls, "I think they're actually dating and sarcastically confirmed it to throw people off."
There is a unison of agreement.
Then flashes the actual clip of Chris and Y/N walking around and the TMZ paps meeting them halfway.
The scene is set in a park. I was wearing a cute little baby blue sundress and Chris was looking like a trust fund college frat dude in his khakis. There's an ice cream stand nearby.
"How you guys doing?" one of the paps ask, meriting no response.
The grip I had on Chris' hand tightens as I tug on him. He turns to me and I give him a soft smile, which is honestly more like showing him my teeth, "I wan' ice cream."
"Ice cream?" he repeats then say, "okay."
I break into a smile and do a small hop because of this.
Cut back to the guy in the office, explaining, "when I tell you Y/N is so darn adorable--"
"Yeah, she is."
"--how could he not date her?"
"For real, mans was whipped for her."
Back to the ice cream truck.
I turn to Chris, "I want vanilla."
He does not reply and only pulls out his wallet. He then turns to me and gruffs, "tell that to the guy sellin' the ice cream, doll."
I turn to the said man and raise a finger, "one vanilla, and..." I turn to Chris and ask, "strawberry for you?"
He nods.
The paparazzi asks, "do you two do this often?"
We ignore it but I decide to answer when he clarifies with, "buy ice cream and hold hands?"
I turn to the guy, "if we were friends, I'd do it with you to."
Chris chuckles.
The one holding the camera then asks, "aye, I'm free on Friday, I'm down to chill."
No one gets to answer him because the ice cream man asks for a picture.
20+ mins of Y/F/N talking about her domestic life with Chris Evans
There's an intro of the video:
Hello. I have compiled some of the moments where y/n and chris just weren't slick and basically exposed themselves to the world. Is it far fetched, maybe, but look at this photo [image of Chris looking at each other in the middle of a press photo op] and look me dead in the eye and tell me im wrong oh wait you cant bitch
Chris and I are sitting next to each other. The interviewer asks, "when you're not working, how do you two unwind."
I think for a moment, "I loosen the screws in his head, then I probably make pancakes."
Chris suddenly comes to life, "oh, she makes good pancakes."
---CUT TO---
A clip of one of my solo interviews.
I am read one of the questions, "what is your happy place?"
My eyes widen and I sigh, "dang, that's like a really deep question." I cross my arms and shake my head, "y'know, I'm not going to waste everyone's time trying to answer this properly, so I'm just going to answer the first thing that popped in my head, which is defeating America's favorite white bread in Uno, multiple times."
*A harsh zoom onto y/n's face*
---CUT TO---
It was a long interview and basically it lead to Chris and I talking about ideal types.
"I dunno, I don't really have a type," I say shrugging, then crossing my arms.
Chris purses his lips and nods, "no, I think you have a type."
I turn to him, mildly shocked, "I have a type?"
Chris begins to laugh.
"No, for real, I'm asking. I have no idea if I have a type," I say, which makes him roll his eyes and shake his head. I begin to think, "I- gosh- you know, I watched this thing where they said humans are naturally narcissistic and will go for someone that looks like them, then there was another thing that said, like, if you're attracted to guys, you usually base your standards of your dad and vice versa. I mean, I'm sure this doesn't apply to everyone, but I will say I think guys that are, like, good with kids, patient, and reliable are definitely guys I could categorize as my type. Plus, I am kind of like the mom friend, so..."
Chris turns to me then mutters, "just say you're into dads."
I turn to him, shocked, then burst out, "I COULD SAY THE SAME THING ABOUT YOU!"
"Oh, but you're a big mama's boy."
He nods and whispers softly, "I am a big mama's boy."
I make a face, "too bad your mom likes me better than you now."
"She would leave you in the desert for me."
"Noooooo she would nooooooottttt."
---CUT TO---
A puppy interview.
I turn to the crew on set and coo at the puppies running up to me and being all adorable. "You if Chris were here, he'd cry, spontaneously combust then just cease."
I make kissy faces to the dogs, "he might also try to steal all of them and I would help."
@mackiesbootie: THIS IS NOT A DRILL. SCOTT JUST POSTED A VIDEO OF CHRIS AND Y/N DANCING WITH THE EVANS NIECES AND NEPHEWS-- @mackiesbootie: YALL SERIOUSLY CANT MAKE ME BELIEVE THEYRE NOT MARRIED AT THIS POINT WTF @chrisevansdailykrr: BITCH [image attatched] @hailhydrax: [replying to @chrisevansdailykrr] @ChrisEvans and Y/N you broke @chrisevansdailykrr, are you satisfied? @Wandas2020vision: [replying to @chrisevansdailykrr] issa mood im dying 👨‍🚀💀 @teaspillzislyf: Chris Evans & Y/F/N are full of shit: a thread @y/ncutebooty: What she says: I'm okay What she means: Chris and Y/N are clearly dating and the only reason why they haven't officially confirmed it is because-- @steverogerswife: yall keep talking sh but just remember y/n has a private account somewhere on twt @poeticb00bs: the fact that y/n knows hers and chris's niche memes is actually kinda scary @steverogerswife: [replying to @poeticb00bs] Evans-Y/L/N is real. Y/N has a private twt. Next question
The said post by scott evans on instagram that made the internet have a meltdown
The caption:
Dont let their size fool you. @ChrisEvans and y/n are about the same age of my nieces and nephews 😂😂
The video is about only 1 minute long. Chris and I were sitting on the carpet in the middle of the Evan's living room. The TV was playing a Barney song but when a kid-favorite started playing, the young ones stood up and starting belting out. This clearly called for a dance break as well.
I picked up Chris' niece and spun her around while we danced. She began to giggle. It was everything
Chris and the other kids began to rip up the dance floor.
And for a moment, Chris and I turn to each other, sharing a laugh. There was nothing said, nothing to say, but still we had a warm, knowing look between us.
Scott, who was filming the whole thing made a, 'oop', sound then ended the video.
934 notes · View notes
qyllenhaal · 14 days ago
Groupie Luv
Rockstar!Bucky x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 10.4k.
Summary: Y/n wasn't sure how the night attending her first concert would go, but she certainly didn't expect to get her cherry picked by her favorite rockstar.
Warnings: AU! Set in the 70s. Dark themes (!!!), loss of virginity, innocence kink, reader lies about her age (but she is of age), age gap, religious undertones, power dynamics, alcohol mention and consumption, drug mention, smut: unprotected sex, creampie, degradation, use of the word “daddy”, pet names, ending is kind of fluffy though!
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The ID card in her head read "Date of birth: 04/30/1956" and her hometown was "New York, New York". The only thing faker than her ID is the worn-out fur coat she wears to shield her from the cold of the night.
Y/n had to do a lot of lying and convince her mother to let her stay a week with her cousin Barbie for Spring Break. Despite being her niece, Y/n's mother does not trust Barbie, and the truth is that she is justified in that. Barbie is a bad influence in the eyes of the family. She dropped out of college her Freshman year to travel throughout America with her new boyfriend who was older than her and touring with his band. She told the family that she wanted to "find herself" and that she wouldn't be back. The world of hurt and anger she caused Y/n's aunt rubbed off on Y/n's mother and her already strict parents decided their efforts weren't enough.
Barbie didn't make another appearance around the family until a year-and-a-half after dropping out of school. She had dropped the touring boyfriend, but now she was living in New York with a much older man. It didn't make the family anymore happier, but after thinking she was the dead body of a girl found in the woods out in Colorado that's been in the headlines, they kept their judgment of her life to themselves.
She caused all that drama, yet Y/n still looks up to her. She would brag to her high school friends about her cool cousin dating rockstars and traveling the world. Without many other girls in her extended family, it was easy for Y/n to want to emulate Barbie and treat her as if she was an older sister. Her life sounded fun, not dangerous like her mother would say. Barbie is living a fast life, but she is young, gorgeous, and not tied to the responsibilities of college studies. At the age of 26, she always has an adventurous story to tell Y/n when she finds time to phone her.
Y/n herself is too scared to ever try to live a life like Barbie's life. She is not fond of taking risks due to her strict upbringing, but that didn't stop her from fantasizing. A life where all she had to do was look pretty, wear pretty clothes, and be somewhat of a socialite sounded like a life of leisure. Every phone call Barbie was selling a dream to Y/n unbeknownst to her.
But, at the end of the day, Y/n is a good girl. She's attending the college of her parent's choice (one that is conveniently close to home) and majoring in what her father suggested. She doesn't break the rules, she doesn't lie, and she stays away from boys like she was told to do.
When Spring break began to approach, her cousin's phone call became more frequent. She was often too busy with school and her sorority duties to answer the phone when she was at home. But Barbie did end up catching Y/n one night and she was begging her little cousin to come and visit her.
"I want to show my little cousin New York," she slurred. Y/n was slightly uncomfortable that Barbie was calling her while drunk, but she didn't know what to say to her about it without sounding rude. "I can come home and come and get you! We can lie about where we're going."
"I don't know," Y/n kept her voice low in case her parents were close. As much as she fantasized about Barbie's lifestyle, actually living it would be a behemoth of a thing.
"C'mon Y/n!" She whined, "don't you want to get away from your parents for once in your life?"
"I-I...I just don't know, Barbie. What would we tell them? I don't think my mom really trusts you, no offense."
Barbie laughs down the line. She knows what her aunt and the rest of her family thinks of her and she just doesn't care. She's 26 and having too much fun to worry about her family's puritanical ways. The only thing she didn't want was for the family to turn her baby cousin against her. There is more to life than obeying your parent’s every demanding wish, and there is honestly no incentive if you do.
“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to her about it.”
“I still don’t know-“
“You don’t want to have fun with your favorite cousin? I think we’ll have so much fun,” Y/n can hear her pouting on the other side of the phone. She was so good at guilt tripping people that she just might be able to convince Y/n’s mother to let her visit for Spring Break, “besides, what’s that one band you love? They’re named after a fruit…is it Tangerine? No…it’s Cherry, right?” Barbie knows how to get to people, and she got to Y/n.
Y/n's mother does not let her listen to rock music or anything with guitars. She has to go to her friend Cindy's house if she wants to listen to anything that isn’t the gospel. They listened to Cindy’s brother's vinyl's from time to time. The very first time Cindy put on a record for her, it was a Pink Floyd LP, Y/n thought God was going to strike her down for disobeying her mother. Cindy thought she was a bit of a freak, but the two had known each other since 2nd grade and knew that Y/n was only that way because of her mother. Y/n’s parents didn’t know that Cindy’s parents had sort of turned into hippies. She was somehow miraculously able to keep it from them.
Y/n didn’t know what to make of the music Cindy showed her at first. It was loud and she sometimes couldn’t understand the lyrics. Around the 5th or 6th time of her going to Cindy’s house to listen to rock records, something clicked for her and Y/n was in love. The heavy drums, driving guitars, and the way these men dressed would give her mother a heart attack if she knew her daughter was listening to secular music.
She liked anything Cindy put on, but her favorite was Cherry. They were not as famous as the bands Cindy favored. Y/n found the record when digging through a pile of the records Cindy's brother left in the downstairs den. Y/n never fangirled over a band up until the moment she convinced Cindy to spin that album on the turntable. She became obsessed with the first seconds of the first track; it was love at first listen.
Once she listened to them, she began to see them everywhere. She wanted to believe it was a coincidence, but Cindy’s mom told them once that coincidences are really “signs from the universe.” Y/n didn’t know what she believed, but she could stop seeing the name “Cherry” everywhere. When the girls at school would pass around magazines to fawn over the shirtless rockstars, Y/n would tear out the pages with Cherry on them before anyone else could get their hands on it. She collected every page that had them or the lead singer James plastered on it, covered in a fur that cost more than her tuition.
James was her wet dream; a man with "no morals" like her mother would say. She did not know what she wanted in a man, but he drove her absolutely wild and her thoughts were wrought with fantasies of him. They called him “Bucky”, and when they played on the late night variety shows, the girls in the audience were all calling his name. He distracted her from her school work and she didn't even know him personally. Maybe it was the bad boy image that got her going. He was unlike any man she’s seen before, and she’s completely enamored by him and his flashy clothing. She had dreams about him and all ended with her waking up in a hot daze. She was in love with him, only knowing a few facts and details about him, but she felt so drawn to him. She doesn't like to lie, but she would lie even to her pastor for Bucky.
"This is what a real man looks like," one of her friends would coo. They would fawn over Bucky and Y/n would get jealous as if he was her man. In her mind, he was her man. None of the other girls in her sorority cared for him until Y/n started hanging up his photos in her dorm. She knows he’s good looking, but she doesn’t want to share him.
Now she has an opportunity to see him in the flesh. Y/n couldn’t believe that this was happening to her. Barbie is essentially handing this opportunity to her, but she’s still stuck in the grips of her parents. When she’s away at school she can do whatever she wants because she’s a few towns away.
“How are you going to convince my parents to let me visit you?”
Y/n always found Barbie to be sneaky, but teenage Barbie has nothing on adult Barbie. Her charisma is almost lethal and how she was able to convince the most religious woman on the east coast to let her 19 year-old go to New York City for Spring Break was mind-boggling. Y/n was still in disbelief even as her plane landed at JFK and Barbie and her boyfriend waited for her in the lobby.
She had landed in New York just three days before Cherry was set to play at The Bottom Line venue. Y/n was out of her home state for the first time, but she couldn't bring herself to care about sightseeing or eating a New York slice of a pizza for the first time, not when she was so close to seeing Cherry in person.
The days went slower than she liked but it did give her time to figure out what she was going to wear. Barbie offered her her closet of clothes. Y/n was shocked to see the amount of designer clothing she had. Halston and Thea Porter hung on hangers that also looked expensive. Y/n had questions about how Barbie was able to afford all of this. She didn't make the connection that Barbie's boyfriend, who was pushing 40 and has her living in a penthouse, is not her boyfriend, but more of a sugar daddy.
"Does it matter what I wear?"
"Of course it does! Don't you want a chance of getting picked out of the crowd?"
Y/n didn't understand what Barbie meant until the day came and she had to wait in line outside of the venue with everyone else dying to get inside. She thought the velvet dress, fur, and platform boots Cindy told her to wear was out of character for her. Her outfit was influenced by Barbie's wall — like Jane Birkin, Donna Summer, Stevie Nicks, and Bianca Jagger. Yet, she had the aura of Jackie Kennedy and it showed how she was nervous even in the way she carried herself. The platforms made her taller, but they also made her walk unsteady. She felt like a movie character, or like this was Halloween and she's in costume. She was out of place, yet she had one thing on her mind like every other girl in the crowd: catching the eye of Cherry's lead vocalist Bucky.
Y/n was almost eye to eye with the venue's bouncer as she stepped up to him. She handed him her ticket before he ripped a part of it off.
"ID," he demands rather rudely.
Y/n pulls the fake ID out of her bra and hands it to him. Barbie's advice of "staying calm" repeats in her head to make herself look less suspicious, but the bouncer still eyes her like he knows she's lying. He holds the plastic up to her face to compare the photo on the ID and the real life version. The photo was so obscure but if he were to stare at it then he'd know right away that it's not Y/n. However the make-up and red lipstick Barbie put on her lips made her look older.
"Alright, go in — Next!"
Y/n was relieved when he gave her access to the venue. When she heard the concert was age restricted, she was afraid that her whole trip was going to be ruined until Barbie produced a fake ID for her. Tonight she is 22-years-old.
Everyone packed themselves in the venue's main room like sardines in a can. Y/n was so hot in her fur coat, but she had nowhere to put it. People looked at her as if she was dying for attention because the other girls had discarded their coats to show off their revealing outfits. They must've found a coat room that Y/n missed when she was rushing to the pit. She remembers when she would judge the girls from high school whose lives revolved around boys, but here she is now dressed like a wannabe Penthouse model. The way her dress shows off her boobs just screams "take me backstage and fuck me!" Barbie said that it was a good thing while it left Y/n feeling unnerved.
She doesn't have much time to stay in her head because the opening act comes on the stage. She's never heard of them before, but their music is so loud she can barely enjoy it. The only concert she has been to was her church's annual Christmas concert. These Hymns were not to God, but to sex and drugs.
"Hey!" Y/n is surprised that she can hear the guy next to her over the music. He's a bit taller than her, but she still comes up to his chin thanks to her platforms. He's not deterred by the music as he continues and asks, "do you want a drink?" His eyes move from hers and straight to her breast once the words leave his mouth.
"Um, no thank you," she yells at him over the music. She's never drank before and she's too scared for her first time having alcohol to be at a rock concert.
Instead of politely saying goodbye to her, he scoffs and mutters, "bitch" before walking away. She's left standing there dumbfounded by his rudeness — no one has ever talked to her like that before.
No one in the crowd was polite. Y/n didn't expect everyone to stand still, but she also didn't expect to constantly be shoved by people trying to get closer. They were aggressive so she let them push past her in fear of getting hurt. She was completely out of place despite being dressed like every other girl in the room.
People were making out and the smell of smoke was thick in the air. She begins to wonder how long until Cherry comes on. She didn't care for this opening act at all. A few people are bobbing and swaying to the music they’re playing, but not many seem all enthused.
They were off in 15 minutes before the stage lights dimmed again. Y/n felt another push from the crowd, from people dying to get close. She’s almost overwhelmed by the atmosphere. Despite looking like she fits in, she sticks out like a sore thumb. She doesn’t understand that many of the girls in this room have traveled to attend multiple Cherry concerts just for the mere chance of having a taste of Bucky. They had their tits out and showed off their long legs despite the remnants of northern winter weather lingering in the air. She felt out of her element. That is until the house lights dimmed and the stage lights began to blare.
A collective gasp from the crowd followed by the first few screams when the band walks on the stage. Y/n didn’t think the room could get any louder until Bucky was the last one to saunter onto the stage.
Just like everyone else, she falls under his spell. His hair is longer from being on tour, making him look dreamier. He walks to the edge of the stage and just stands there as the crowd gets louder for him like he’s a walking god. Y/n is not exempt from screaming her lungs out either. She forgos all of her manners and reservations.
The first chords of the guitar rip through the venue and vibrate throughout her body. There are three other people on stage, but her eyes are trained on Bucky. He’s as charismatic as a televangelist, yet as gorgeous as a Hollywood actor. He gyrates his hips much to the excitement of the girls in the audience. He’s walking sex and his voice is like soft velvet. The little black and white TV at Cindy’s house did not do him justice. Y/n’s mother would call him filth, but he’s hot filth.
“How’s everyone doin’ tonight?”
He’s met with screams from the audience which makes him smirk.
Y/n recognized the opening riff to her favorite Cherry song. Her eyes lit up and her screams morph with the girl’s surrounding her. The song was clearly a fan favorite as everyone in the crowd began to move their bodies. Everyone was unintentionally grinding on each other. Y/n had no reservations about the bodies pressed up against her as she eyed Bucky who was walking towards the edge of the stage. The people on the rails reached out to him, dying for even the smallest touch. Y/n was too far away to be within reach of him, but she swears his eyes glance over her in the crowd. It’s not a coincidence because a few seconds later he catches her eyes and smirks when he sees the dumbfounded look on her face. It’s a moment that Y/n is going to write down in her diary for the next year or so. Her friends might not even believe her when she tells them, but she knows for a fact his eyes scanned over her.
The magic of the night is over quicker than Y/n wished. Cherry played their last song, and then they played an encore. Adrenaline was still coursing through Y/n’s veins and she didn’t want to leave the venue. She lingered in her spot for a little bit before realizing that half of the crowd had already left. It was time to call it a night since Barbie was probably back at the penthouse waiting for her. However, Y/n is stopped dead in her tracks by someone grabbing onto her coat.
“Hey you!”
Panic began to set in as the authoritative voice yelled at her. She remembers that the ID she used to get in was fake and figures she’s been found out. She’s sure she’s not the only one who used a fake ID to enter the venue but she sure does stick out with her fur coat. The man has a grip on her and she’s forced to turn around and face him. It was a bouncer, but it wasn’t the same one who let her in. She was slightly relieved, but still on edge from being grabbed so roughly.
“Come with me.”
Y/n has no choice but to walk with him. She’s almost stumbling over her platforms but she manages to keep herself upright. It doesn’t take long before she realizes that the bouncer is taking her backstage. She thought it was her lucky day, but she is yet to understand the implications of what this all means. Barbie had tried to give her a talk about this just in case something like this were to happen to her.
“W-Where are you taking me?” Y/n finally decides to ask when she walks past a few stage hands and girls who are dressed in a similar fashion as her.
He doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking until they reach the area he was told to take her. It was a large greenroom filled with women, alcohol, and drugs, but most importantly, the members of Cherry filled the room. Y/n’s eyes flashed over the lines of a powdery, white substance and prescription pill bottles. There was a musky smell in the room mixed with cigarette ash; everyone had something in their hand that they were smoking. Discarded beer bottles laid on the floor, especially around the couch that the bouncer stopped in front of.
“Is this the girl you wanted?”
On the couch, sandwiched between two blondes, was Bucky. One of the women was rubbing chest while the other had her face planted in his neck. They weren’t acting normal, Y/n thought to herself, they were seemingly out of it and running on auto-pilot. She was sort of concerned for them, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from the rockstar that was staring right back at her.
“Yes it is,” he says matter-of-factly. He finishes up his cigarette and discards the butt on the floor. He stands up and he’s so damn tall. If it wasn’t for her platforms then Y/n would have to tilt her head to look up at him. The women who were all over him were pissed that he moved from his spot, but he didn’t care about them at all.
Bucky was trying really hard to break his habit of picking a girl out of the crowd and having security bring her to him once the show was over and done with. That’s why he attempted to surround himself with old hook-ups he knew were a sure bet. It was just too risky and the safe bets knew him well enough to satisfy him. But he has a sweet tooth he wants to satisfy tonight and the pretty thing in the crowd looked too damn sweet to pass up. He steps closer to her as he crushes his cigarette butt under one foot. He can smell the innocence on her like a cheap perfume — Bucky knows when a sweet girl is playing dress-up for the night.
The room is so hot, making Y/n sweat under fur. Being surrounded by so much going on that she can’t quite explain was making her nervous. Bucky could see it written all over her face that this is her first time being in an environment like this.
“Wanna step outside, sweetheart?”
The name had her melting and nodding her head. She follows him outside to the back where Cherry’s tour bus is parked in the back. The night air hits her and it’s the equivalent of jumping into a pool on a hot day. She was so cold earlier when she was waiting to get into the venue, but now she appreciates the cooler temperature.
“Can I see your ID?”
This was the last question Y/n expected him to ask, but she figures he just wants to be safe and be assured that she’s not under the age of 18. She hands him the fake ID and hopes that it works on him.
“Dolly. Pretty name,” he hands the ID back to her. Y/n thought she was in the clear until he places his hand on the other side of her head and his body is so close to hers that her back is to the wall. A scowl sits on his face and she worries that she’s fucked up. “Word of advice. Next time you get a fake ID, make sure there aren’t any typos. High schoolers aren’t my thing, sweetheart.”
“I’m not a high schooler!” Y/n says a bit too fast. Her heart is racing so fast, but she doesn’t want their time together to end even if she doesn’t know where this is going, “I’m in college…I’m 20.”
Bucky is hesitant to believe her. He doesn’t want to get caught up with someone who is lying about their age. However, he decides to take her word for her. He doesn’t think she looks that young, just unsuspecting. The whorish make-up she’s wearing can’t cover up the fact that she looks like Bambi. He finds it so damn cute.
“You wanna tell me your real name baby?”
“It’s Y/n,” she bats her lashes at him as he observes her face. His eyes landed on her lips, painted a vibrant red. The primal urges in him want to see it smeared all over her face. It’s been a long, long time since Bucky has such an innocent little thing right in front of him. He can only assume that she’s pure and untouched.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl. What are you doing out here with an old man like me? You probably have a little boyfriend at home, a girl as pretty as you.”
“I-I don’t-“
“C’mon now, don’t lie to me again,” this time he’s joking with her. Y/n is in a great state of disbelief that a rockstar is interested in her. He’s looking at her with hunger in his eyes which Y/n mistakes for adoration. The boys on her campus don’t find her cute, but a rockstar does. And not just any rockstar, but her favorite rockstar. Bucky knows what effect he’s having on her. He can feel her legs trembling as he presses himself up against her, her back hard against the wall, “do I make you nervous?”
Y/n stupidly nods her head. She should’ve said no, but she can’t lie to him, not when she’s staring into his blue eyes.
“I don’t want you to be nervous for me, pretty girl,” he tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ears. She almost looks like a cute puppy he wants to scoop up and keep as his. “You got me all riled up, teasing me looking all cute while I’m on stage.”
Y/n knew she wasn’t seeing things when his eyes flashed over her when she was in the crowd. She had to thank Barbie later because her cousin making her wear this ridiculous outfit is paying off.
“I couldn’t stop myself from getting hard,” he continued, “if I had my way, I would’ve brought you on stage and taken you in front of the entire audience. But, I don’t think you’re that kind of girl, and I’m right, aren’t I?”
No amount of make-up and perfume can cover up that she’s a virgin. She’s awkward and doesn’t wear sexiness that well. Bucky has dealt with his fair share of nervous girls who are fans of his. Y/n stumbles over every word every time Bucky asks her a question. She doesn’t even try to flirt or try to be sexy. She’s unlike those women that were just all over him 10 minutes ago, but he likes that. The same old thing gets stale when you have it over and over again. He needs something new, something sweet, to satisfy him.
“I bet you parents don’t even know you’re here,” he caresses her cheek with the back of his hand, “their sweet, little daughter who studies real, real hard in college so she can make something of herself. Bet they’d be shocked to find out she’s trying to get fucked by a nasty man like me. Is that what you want, princess? Want me to take you to into that bus and fuck the shit out of you?”
Y/n unintentionally whines, “yes.” His spell is complete and she’s completely enamored. She doesn’t care that she’s inexperienced or that she was saving herself for “someone special.” She’s grinding herself against Bucky like a bitch in heat and he’s enjoying every second of it. If he told her to jump, she’d ask him, “how how?” She wants him so bad and she wants to be wanted by him even more.
“Well, c’mon then,” he grabs her hand and leads her towards the tour bus. Her hand is soft in his calloused one. She’s sure he uses his hands to work hard, playing guitar and writing lyrics all day; she cannot wait to feel those rough hands on her body.
The mix of cigarettes and weed is even worse on the bus. The windows are all closed which makes it stuffy inside. It’s not silent though, as Y/n can hear moaning coming from the small room in the back. They walk past make-shift bunk beds and Y/n wonders just how safe it is to live on a tour bus. Surely they have fun in it though because there are discarded condoms on the floor. The moaning gets louder and Y/n is able to make out the words of a woman begging to be fucked harder. Her eyes widen when she hears the filth coming from the woman’s back. “That’s going to be us, sweetheart,” Bucky whispers into her ear. Y/n can almost faint from how hot she feels.
Bucky bangs on the door only to be met with someone yelling at him on the other side of the door. He bangs on it again and yells, “get out of my room!” It was no surprise that the lead singer got his own private room while his band mates and roadies slept on the shitty beds. Y/n, who would normally be turned off by rudeness, doesn’t care at all. She wants whoever is behind that door to leave so he can lay her down in the bed.
Out comes the drummer of Cherry with a brunette right behind him. She’s wearing a tight, black dress that she threw on haphazardly. Y/n avoids making eye contact with either of them as they pass her up. Bucky keeps a firm grip on her hand as they become the ones to occupy the room.
Y/n takes a second to look around his small room. It’s much nicer and cleaner than the rest of the tour bus. Some of Bucky’s clothes are hanging in a small closet; a few items that Y/n recognizes from his TV appearances hang in there.
“Come here little one.”
Bucky wraps his large arm around her waist and forces her close to his body. She gasps when she connects with his chest. His button up has a few buttons undone and she’s face to face with his bare chest. He looks so fine, like a man that can split her in half and she’ll say thank you afterward.
He pushes her down against the bed and Y/n looks up at him, waiting almost impatiently for his next move.
“Take that coat off baby. Don’t hide your body from me.”
He stands there like he has the ultimate authority over her because he knows he does. She peels the fur jacket off of her body to reveal her velvet dress. It’s tight on her pretty body and Bucky wants to see that go next.
“Take that off for me too, baby. I want to see how beautiful you look under all those clothes.”
Y/n cheeks grow hot. She’s hesitant to undress herself in front of him because she’s never undressed herself in front of a man before. Her body was to be concealed and protected like a sanctuary. She feels like a sinner with each article of clothing being pulled off of her body. Her stupid little brain doesn’t consider anything she’s been taught growing up; they’re replaced by Bucky and the way his hard gaze flutters over her body. She sits on his bed for him, completely nude, with a demure look in her eye. Bucky groaned at the sight of her virgin body. Her skin looked so soft, untouched by anyone in a nefarious way. Her nipples were hard from being out in the cold. After taking in her entire body, his eyes finally landed on her sweet cunt. He could barely see it because her legs were clamped shut, but he forced her open by using his foot to nudge her legs open. The leather of his shoes felt expensive as it rubbed against her ankle. She slowly parts her legs to reveal herself to him. Her virgin cunt is puffy and wet for him. Bucky has always had that effect on women; making them wet without even touching them yet.
“Don’t you look so darling for me,” he compliments. No matter how nervous she is, Bucky knows using sweet words is going to make her do anything he wants. She looks like sin despite being so sweet and innocent. Bucky swore off fucking random girls for the rest of his tour, but he’s never been more happier to be weak to temptation.
"You're not the first virgin I fucked, but it's been a while so bare with me if I'm not patient."
Bucky just wants to touch her. He wants to turn her around and pound into her while her ass ripples against his hips. The urge to be less than nice is taking over him. He will enjoy the pleasures of the flesh tonight.
"You've at least used that mouth before, right?" He began to take off his belt and unbuckle his bell bottoms. She shakes her head no in response to him. She's completely pure and untouched; Bucky cannot contain himself. "I'll show you what to do princess."
Y/n is afraid she won't be good at pleasing him. He's had so many women, much sexier and mature women, suck his cock and please him. She's heard classmates talk about giving their boyfriends' handjobs and blowjobs, but she's never even seen another man naked.
Bucky sits on the bed next to her and rubs her thigh. She cannot pull her eyes away from the bulge in his pants. He looks like he's big.
"Get down on your knees for me sweet girl."
Y/n kneels before him like she does when she prays to God. When she prays for what she wants most in life, she'd never think of asking for something like this.
"Fuck, you look so cute down there. Such a pretty little thing."
Bucky slightly lifts himself off the bed to pull his pants down and free his cock. He knew going commando would make his night better because his cock springs out with ease. Y/n is staring at his length with eyes so wide. He's so big she doesn't think he can fit in her hand let alone her mouth or pussy.
"Go 'head and touch it," he gently nudges. The softness in his voice gives her a false sense of security. She imagines that he's going to be so nice and sweet to her tender body tonight, he just needs to be warmed up.
Her hand moves slowly and she wraps her nimble fingers around his length. She shudders when she feels the weight of him in her palm. Her eyes shoot up at Bucky's face when he sighs at the light squeeze she gives him. It's just a small gesture, but his mind is already making her the star of his fantasies. He needs more from her or else he's going to explode. He wants to consume all of her, turn her from something sweet into something nasty by using all parts of her body for his pleasure. Once he's through with her tonight, she's his; she'll be absolutely ruined for anyone else. He's going to fuck her until she's dumb and can only say his name.
"Move your hand, baby."
Y/n obeys but her hand only moves up and down a little bit. His cock is dry and she wonders if it hurts him. He's grunting which she cannot tell is a good thing or not.
"Do you — do you want me to lick your cock Bucky?" She asks so sweetly.
He's a grown man, he should be able to control himself better, but he almost cums all over her face. The way she talks with such a soft, yet curious voice is going to kill him.
"Yea baby...go ahead and start licking my cock."
She sticks out her pink cock and the wet muscle connects with the underside of Bucky's cock. He shivers at the feeling of her wet tongue on his cock. She licks him again like she's a little kitten. Her tongue is weak against his cock, it feels good, but it's not enough.
"Lick me harder baby."
Y/n apples more pressure to his cock. She grabs the base of his cock to keep it still for herself. She's heard girls say their boyfriend's dick didn't taste good at all, but she likes how Bucky tastes. His flesh is a bit salty from being on stage an hour ago, but it's not bad at all. Every lick elicits a reaction from him that makes her feel all good inside. All she wants is to be wanted by her dream man, and she's proud of herself for getting him to moan. However, she can't help but compare herself to the hypothetical women in his past. She pushes herself a bit further to beat them in this imaginary competition. She licks all the way up to the tip before letting her tongue run over the very top. It's been days since he's cum, tour was killing him, and he cock was more sensitive than usual.
Bucky is waring with himself; he wants to keep watching her learn her way around a big cock, but a dark part of him wants to grab her head and fuck her face. Her make-up is still intact and he's keen on ruining it.
"Open that mouth," his voice is not as soft as he gives her the demand. She obeys him like the good girl she is and his cock is sliding into her mouth. She only has a few minutes to adjust before he's sawing his cock into her mouth. "That's it princess — relax your throat for me." That mouth of hers is so, so special. If her mouth feels like silk then he can only imagine what her untouched cunt feels like.
The tip of his cock hit the back of her throat and she gags on a cock for the first time in her life and she almost panics. "Uh-uh, it's okay baby, just relax that throat," he groans. Her mouth is too warm and wet for him to stop fucking her face. He'll take it slowly for now, but he won't be able to contain himself for much longer. Her tongue slides against the underside of his cock and purposely presses against it. The moan he lets out tells her that she's doing better than she thought she would. Bucky has a grip on her head that's getting tighter and tighter.
Bucky couldn't hold back as he fucked her velvet mouth. His cock was a wide fit in her mouth, causing Y/n's jaw to feel sore. He kept battering the back of her throat with his cock, making her gag harder than before. They were creating such a mess with her saliva clinging to her chin and falling down into globs on her tits.
Y/n can barely form a coherent thought. It was becoming harder to breath but Bucky was so lost in fucking her throat that he thought nothing of her groans; until she's tapping his thigh to let her breath. He pulls his hips back and she gasps for air. "Good little girl," he grits. A connecting string of spit begins from his cock and ends on her smeared lips. He's kind enough to give her ten seconds to collect herself before he's back to using the throat.
Bucky feels himself about to blow in her mouth. He doesn't want to waste his cum, although he would love to see her face and pretty tits painted with it. He only fucks her face for a few more minutes before pulling out altogether.
"On the bed girl."
Y/n was relieved that he was done with her throat. Her jaw was beginning to become sore. Bucky gets a good look at her face one she's spread out on his soft bed for him. The tears ruined her eye make-up and her red lips were smudged. The residue of her lipstick is covered on his cock which he quickly fists off. He loved using her throat, but it was time to turn his attention onto her.
"Look how pretty you sweet and innocent for me," he coos.
As he climbs over her, Y/n wonders how she got so lucky. Bucky looks so gorgeous on top of her, and he looks at her as if she's good enough to eat. She can taste the alcohol on his soft lips as he kisses her. She wants him to consume every inch of her. She wants to be corrupted and doesn't care if God is looking down on her with shame.
Bucky's hand holds onto her hips as he pins her down. She's not going anywhere but just being able to control her body is so fun for him. His lips trail away from her lips and to her jawline. He sucks and kisses at her skin until he's nipping at her sensitive neck. She sighs and wiggles her body against his. The skin is almost ticklish because it's never been dealt with in this manner. Someone kissing her skin is so foreign, but she's already addicted to how it feels to be kissed and touched by him.
"Pretty fucking tits," he murmurs to himself when he travels further down her body.
Bucky gropes her breast until he has to take a nipple into his mouth. She sighs, still holding back her moans in shyness, when his wet mouth connects with her nipples. Every part of her body is sensitive to his touch, but her nipples are incredibly hard that it almost hurts. He maintains his gaze on her face to watch her reaction as he sucks and paws at the flesh of her body. He switches from one nipple to the other, swirling his tongue around her sensitive bud. His tongue presses flatly against her nipple, only to spring back up when he pulls his mouth away.
"It's safe to assume that no one has eaten that sweet cunt of yours?"
The way he crassly puts it makes Y/n want to hide her face. She turns her head to the side, but Bucky grabs her jaw to make her face him again. He smirks when he sees the nervous look on her face. Of course no one has gone down on her, he knows that, but it's so much more fun to hear her say it herself.
"Answer me sweetheart."
" one has been down there before," she stammers.
It's her lucky day because the first man to go down on her is one that absolutely loves eating pussy. He loves feeling a woman squirm underneath him as he holds her hips down and devours her cunt. Y/n's puffy pussy is so enticing to him that he has to feast on her. And feast he will.
"Spread those legs a little wider for me baby. Let me make you feel good."
Y/n listens to him, but she's still unsure about him going down on her.
"Are you sure Bucky?"
"Am I sure about what?"
"Going down...there," she was so embarrassed that he made her say it out loud. Talking about sex makes her feel unsexy. She's also afraid he won't like how she tastes.
Bucky sits up and leans over her. Their noses are touching and his lips barely touch hers. "I've never been so sure baby," his words ghost across her lips.
Bucky sits back up on knees, a devilish smile playing on his face. He spreads Y/n's legs further apart. The sound of her wet folds separating as her legs part makes him feel feral. Even her cunt glistens in the little lighting they have. Y/n has never been so wet or turned on in her life. Bucky could slide right in if he wanted to. Instead he descends on her pussy for the taste he's been dying to get since he spotted her in the crowd.
His hands cup her ass and he brings her pussy up to his mouth. The first contact with his tongue on her pussy makes Y/n's mind melt.
"Buck — oh my god!" She couldn't hold back her cries of pleasure even if she wanted to.
That's what Bucky wants to hear from her. He wants to hear her call out his name like she's his desperate whore. Her little pussy is just as sweet as he expected.
In just a few seconds she's begging him for more. Bucky is loving every second of this. The way her hot flesh feels against his tongue and how she's falling apart at the seams just from him licking her folds. He hasn't shown her nothing yet in terms of pleasing her body, and yet the pretty, little virgin is crying out for him to keep devouring her precious pussy.
"It feels so good Bucky — ahh!"
Her moans are just as cute as her. Bucky hums into her pussy as his tongue dives between her folds. Every time he slides his tongue closer to her clit he gets a louder reaction. He knows the moment he attaches his mouth to it that it's going to drive her crazy; she's going to have her first orgasm on his tongue.
When his lips finally wrap around her clit, the most obscene moans escape Y/n's mouth. Bucky is so turned on by the sound of her cries that he ruts himself against the bed. He wants to fuck into her so bad already, but this pussy is just too good to pull his mouth away from. His whole body is heated as more of her arousal flows into his mouth. Her clit is so sensitive but that doesn't stop him from sucking harshly on the bud. Y/n begins to paw at his head in an attempt to push him away; she's utterly overwhelmed. But, Bucky just locks his arms around her thighs and keeps his mouth on her. The look in his eyes tells her to stop and let him do his job. Y/n tries, she desperately tries to control her body, but it just feels too good to stay still.
The cry of his name becomes so familiar on her tongue. She's still so nervous but she gives herself no choice but to surrender herself to him. Each moment they go further and further until Y/n is pushed to the edge of a new limit for herself. Her body feels light and heavy at the same time. She's nearly done for when a finger makes its way into her pussy, followed by a second. Bucky scissors his fingers out in her pussy to stretch her for him. She's so slick and wet, but he wants her to get accustomed to an intrusion in her little cunt. He massages her walls with the pads of his fingers. They clench around him before beginning to spasm. His fingers just push her closer to her first, and hardest orgasm of her life.
Y/n does not like to swear, but the situation warrants it as her body goes under. Her vision is obscured by patches of white in her eyes. She begins to babble as if she's cock drunk and she hasn't even gotten his cock yet. She underestimated how a mouth and two fingers could bring her to her knees metaphorically. If it wasn't for how broken her mind is, she'd be crying out 'I love you' over and over again.
Bucky pulls his fingers out and laps at her sweetness. He doesn't take too much time licking up her nectar because his cock is so hard and looking for its home. Her pussy is perfect for him
"I'm gonna fuck you until you cry," he groans as he sits up and grabs the base of his cock.
The head of his cock is aimed right at her pussy. It's so hard that it almost looks painful for him. She hates to kill his momentum, but she has to ask, "shouldn't we use a condom?" Her voice is weak from the orgasm that just wore her out. Even on autopilot her anxiousness gets the best of her.
Bucky pauses. He's a little annoyed by her question as he believes she should just go with what's happening.
"I wanna feel all of you baby — besides, I'm clean."
Bucky was not going to fuck that pussy with a condom. There is no way he was going to slide his thick cock into that virgin pussy without feeling for himself how wet and warm it is.
"Do you want me to fuck you or not princess?" His delivery is a bit harsh, but he uses it to assert his authority over her. She's not going to say no to her favorite rockstar he says he just wants to worship her body.
Y/n silences herself but nods her head. She's afraid, but she also doesn't want him to stop. When he says, "good girl," she knows that she's made the right decision.
He glides the head of his cock between her slippery folds. Every time he slides past her entrance, Y/n thinks he's going to slide in, but he continues to tease her. He douses his cock in her slick that just kept seeping out of her. She acts so hesitant yet this little pussy can't stop flowing for him.
"I really wanna fuck that pussy from behind and watch your ass smack against mine. But, I'll be a nice man and let you see my face while I pick your cherry."
Finally he places the head right at her slit and slowly begins to slide in. Every muscle in her body tenses up and she shoots right up.
"No, no — it's okay baby. Just relax for me, okay? Relax for Bucky."
His words only placate her a little bit. She lays back down for him but it's hard to relax completely when his big cock is nearly splitting her open. The air is plucked right from her and she can't even moan, let alone speak.
Bucky almost slides all of himself inside of her before pulling all the way out again. Y/n feels so empty at the loss of him. The next time he's pushing into her he moves a little more quicker. He can't take too much time or else he's going to explode inside of her without really getting to fuck her. Bucky has to calm himself down too so he doesn't blow his load. Her pussy is just so tight and inviting; definitely the snuggest cunt he's had in a while.
She winces as he pushes in deeper and deeper and Bucky begins to caress her skin; he wants to corrupt her, not hurt her.
"Shh, shh baby it's okay. Daddy's got you and that pretty pussy baby..."
His words of encouragement turn her on and make her feel a little bit better. The man who's posters are on the walk of her dorm is fucking her and talking to her sweetly. He's making her into a woman.
Bucky grabs her legs and places them on his shoulder. "Shit," he grunts when the new position gives him much deeper access. He can't believe he has so much patience when he really wants to tear her pussy up. He knows she can't handle it quite yet though.
"Ahh! It's so big, Bucky!" She whines. Her nails dig into his forearms from the pain as she tries to adjust to his size.
"A big cock for a big girl."
Bucky pauses for a second to take in the feeling of her silky walls. Y/n is grateful for the time he takes to admire how she feels because she needs this moment to adjust to him. He’s so big, nearly splitting her in half, but she doesn’t want this moment to end. There is no better person she could give her virginity to. Even if Bucky’s not necessarily as gentle as the first man she’d imagine to have sex with, nor is he someone’s she in a relationship with, but this is so much better than anything else she could have gotten.
“You have the wettest pussy on earth,” he fawns before he begins to move again.
Bucky works her up to a steady pace that is still careful of her delicate frame. Her nails in his skin sting but the pain goes straight to his cock. She doesn’t know just how much he likes it rough and how much restraint he’s actually showing. Once she gets used to him, he’s going to take the stress out on her perfect, untouched body. She’ll be his fuck doll for the night.
“How does it feel, baby? How does it feel to have my big dick inside of you?” Bucky lays his hand on her lower stomach, “can you feel me right here?”
His hand snakes down to rub light circles into her clit. He feels her thighs shivering against his sides. She’s so precious; he could do anything to her and she’d enjoy it, turning into a moaning mess in a second. There are tears in the corners of eyes that spill out once she forces her eyes shut. Her fingernails have exited his skin and settled for gripping at the sheets near her head. Bucky leans down to kiss between the valley of her breast. Her back arches into the air, his lips digging into her skin in the process. “So good…so, so good,” he whispers against her skin. His warm breath tickles her skin. She feels like she’s walking into the gates of heaven as his cock inside of her begins to feel good. It’s electrifying to be so filled by such a man. This feels like a dirty secret she should keep to her grave, but also something she should scream on top of the world’s largest mountain.
Bucky sits up again and cups her face. She’s still so pure even with his cock stuffed inside of her. His cock curves inside of her and rubs against her sweet spot, and he’s just seconds away from giving in and ruining her. His touch, the thickness of cock, should be imprinted on her mind for the rest of her life. She’ll think about him even when she’s married with children. God — Bucky wishes he can just scoop her up and take her with him, but a good girl like her would be ruined by his lifestyle. He likes how sinless she is, and he doesn’t want that to change.
“H-Harder,” she whispers.
Neither of them can believe the word that escapes from her mouth, but who is Bucky to deny her? His hips snap against hers and he fucks into her harder just like she asks. His cock is so heavy inside of her but the burn of the stretch is so delicious. She holds onto him for dear life again. She’s desperate to have another orgasm. It felt so good when she came on his tongue, and she wants to experience it again on his cock. Bucky can feel her tightening up and he’s threatening to spill his seed inside of her.
“C’mon sweetheart,” he rubs her clit harder now, “cum for me princess. Cum all over daddy’s big dick.”
Y/n groans at his demand. She’s so close to cumming for him and that’s all she wants to do. She wants to obey his every whim, no matter how taxing it is.
There are stars in her eyes as she begins to cum around his cock, just for him. Her voice is too weak for her to moan out loud for him, but her whimpers get him going. The warmth spreads throughout her body and she swears she’s seeing stars at this point.
A string of profanities escape his lips and he pulls out of her before she could fully ride out her hide. She whines at the empty feeling inside of her. Bucky was about to cum inside of her, but he wants to take her from behind now that he’s taken her once and made her cum. He doesn’t say anything as he moves her limp body around like she’s a rag doll. He places her on her stomach and then pulls her hips back and into the air. Her knees sink into the bed as she lays with her face down and ass up. Bucky is feeding his cock into her pussy within seconds. Her eyes widened at the new position giving him even more access to her poor pussy. She can feel his tip teasing her cervix. Bucky isn’t so keen on being nice and slow for her this time around. The squelching of her cunt and the slapping of their skin is loud and lascivious.
“Fuck baby — I’m gonna cum in this pussy,” he moans.
Y/n wasn’t on any sort of birth control, but she isn’t going to stop him. She knows it’s a risk, but she just hopes for the best because she needs his cock inside of her. Her morals are as shaky as the legs she’s laying on.
“Gonna let daddy cum in this pretty pussy?”
“Yes!” Her voice is muffled by the blankets on the bed, but he hears her loud and clear.
“Good girl — such a slut for me.”
Being called a slut shouldn’t be such a turn on, but it makes Y/n’s pussy even wetter. Her heat was more intoxicating than any alcohol he’s had tonight. The veins of his cock slide against her soft walls and he fits into her like a glove; her pussy is too good not to pound.
“Fuck princess I’m about to cum…’m bout to give you my big, fat load.”
All Y/n can do is whine. She grabs at the bed and squeezes onto the nearest blanket very tight. She’s going to cum again; she can feel it deep in her stomach.
Bucky was lost in a trance watching her ass bounce against him as his cock disappeared in her tight cunt. But he wasn’t dazed enough not to notice the small gesture of Y/n pushing her hips back against him. He can’t help but smirk at the fact that he turned this sweet virgin playing dress up into his slut. It makes his cock twitch inside of her and he’s finally about to cum. He can feel her getting close again too.
“Cum with me sweet girl — wanna cum with you.”
Y/n feels special hearing those words from him. He wasn’t a selfish man, he spoiled her pussy two times and he’s about to do it again for the third time tonight. His cock keeps spearing her open, reaching deep inside her tight canal. Her pussy gives him one good squeeze before she begins to milk. She can feel his cum spreading inside of her, causing her to gasp as it triggers her own orgasm. He comes to a halt as he bursts inside of her. His hand reaches down to rub her clit through her own orgasm and she begins to shiver under his touch.
“B-Bucky — my god,” her voice is broken and faint.
Y/n can barely keep her eyes open as she feels his cum filling her up inside. It’s so warm and feels like it’s spreading without her body.
Bucky doesn’t want to pull out; he wants to stay buried in that cunt forever. But, he’s dying to see his cum drip out of her. He pulls out of her slowly and watches a gush of white escape from her hole. “Fuck, that’s it baby,” he coos as more and more flows out. He didn’t realize that he had so much pent up inside of him until he saw it dripping out of her. He rubs the head of his cock through her folds before pushing his cream back in.
He’s utterly spent; that girl and her pussy wore him out. He collapses on the bed next to her and pulls her into his arms. Bucky really should be cleaning her up and sending her on her merry way, but he needs to feel someone’s touch tonight after that. It feels nice to cuddle with her although it’s not his most favorite thing to do with a hook-up. He sees it as something that’s too intimate, something lovers should do, but it is the least he can do after being the first man to use her body. But, Bucky also doesn’t want to admit that he enjoyed tonight a little bit more than usual.
“Rest up sweetheart. I’ll get you home tonight,” Bucky coos, his nose pressing into the hot skin on her cheek. Y/n nods absentmindedly. Her mind was totally consumed with being in the arms of her favorite rockstar who had now fucked his way into being her favorite person in the world.
Bucky lets her rest up before he’s cleaning up the mess between her legs. Most of it has dried up, but there are still remnants of the mix of their cum clinging to her inner thigh. He’s proud of his handiwork and looking at the pretty girl laying in his bed is further proof.
Y/n sits up and begins to search for her clothes. Bucky watches her every move. She can barely walk from the exhaustion and soreness that is now ravaging her body. He’s enamored by the sight of her, as if she’s the famous one. It’s so ridiculous how much his heart swells just watching her try to make herself look presentable again. She still looks so sweet and innocent even after getting her brains fucked out.
Bucky doesn’t know what compels him to say something stupid to the girl. He doesn’t make promises, because they are often broken, but he plans on keeping this one. He cups her face with his hands which forces her to stop and look at him. There are just as many stars in his eyes as there are hers.
“Next time you’re in New York, you call me. Or, wherever the hell you are, you call me and I’ll be there to fuck the shit out of you. Anytime, any place baby.
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alisonsfics · 3 months ago
boyfriend upgrade
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: you have always been close with your roommate, bucky, but tensions start to rise when your boyfriend begins to stay over at your apartment. you feel like you’re drifting apart until bucky accidentally sees you almost naked.
word count: 2.2k
warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, body worshipping, cheating, swearing, praise kink, squirting
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You and Bucky always had a strange relationship. You were roommates, but there was more too it; it was more than friends. Bucky had always assumed you both just hadn’t confessed your feelings for each other yet. That was until you brought a guy home one night.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like Bucky, you just didn’t think you’d ever have a chance with him. So, you tried your best to move on. That’s when you met Alex. After you hit it off on your first date, you brought him home to your apartment.
It had been downhill since.
Yours and Alex’s relationship was fine. It had started off as new and exciting, but now you to really try to make it fun.
The sex though, was not great. It wasn’t that he was bad. He just only focused on getting himself towards his orgasm. So, you often had to suggest new positions or ideas so you might be satisfied.
You were sitting on the kitchen counter as you and Alex both ate breakfast. He had stayed over at your place last night. Alex was slotted between your legs, running his hands up and down your thigh.
“Oh god” you heard someone exclaim. You saw Bucky had walked into the kitchen and rolled his eyes.
Here’s the thing. Bucky hated Alex.
“Good morning, Buck” you said, giving him a soft smile. He walked past you both and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. “Morning, darling” he said, returning your smile.
“I’m going out. Tell your boyfriend he left his clothes on the bathroom floor” Bucky said, pretending Alex wasn’t there, just like he always did. You waved to him before he left.
“Why does he hate me?” Alex asked, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You shrugged, honestly not knowing. “You have to get to know him first. He’s a great guy” you told him.
Alex huffed, before taking a deep breath. “Why don’t you move in with me?” He asked you, and you nearly choked on your food. His eyes dropped as he saw how shocked you were. “Are you serious?” You asked, catching your breath.
He nodded his head eagerly. “I always have to sneak around your roommate when I’m here. We could live together. Just the two of us” he said. He was imagining it all.
You crossed your arms. “I can’t leave Bucky like that” you told him, amused by the thought. Alex was stunned. “So he’s more important than I am” he countered.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you jumped down from the counter and pushed away from him. “You are so fucking jealous. It’s ridiculous. You know that I love you. I signed a lease; I can’t just expect Bucky to pay double the rent” you said, walking away into your room.
You slammed the door in his face as he chased after you. “Baby, I have to go to work” he said, through the door.
“Have fun” you yelled back, rolling your eyes.
You decided to busy yourself by catching up on a new tv show you’d been watching. When an intimate scene came on, you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs. You clenched your thighs, momentarily relieving the pressure.
You quickly turned off the show and stripped down to your bra and panties. You were beyond horny, and you were in a fight with your boyfriend.
You didn’t care how mad at him you were, you were willing to take him right there if he was home. You folded up a pillow and began to grind your hips down on it, desperately humping it for your release.
You grew frustrated as you couldn’t cum. You needed it.
You heard the front door open. Your eyes lit up as you realized Alex was home. You both could fight later, now you needed him to fuck you.
“I know we’re in a fight, but god I really need you right now” you said, before walking out of your bedroom.
You were met by Bucky’s stunned eyes. He gazed down your almost-bare body. You remembered what you were wearing and quickly grabbed a blanket from the couch to cover yourself.
“Oh fuck—Bucky?” You asked, barely managing to wrap the blanket around you. He didn’t say a word, but stared blankly. You didn’t know what he was thinking.
He walked towards you, still silent. He held your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. “Let me take care of you, angel” he said, before kissing you.
You were shocked by the kiss. Your instincts kicked in as you kissed him back. You didn’t know what had taken over you. This morning, you were making love to your boyfriend and now you were making out with your roommate.
He hands ran up and down the curve of your back. “What about Alex?” You finally asked, pushing his chest away from you.
You both gasped for breath, caught up in the suddenness. “Do you really want to be with him?” Bucky asked you, genuinely. You knew the answer.
You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled his lips back to yours. He kissed you back, holding your waist. “You gotta lose the blanket, darling” he said, pulling the fabric away of your body.
He dropped it to the ground and returned his focus to you. He finally got a good look at all of you. “Fuck, darling” he said, his eyes rolling down your frame. He cupped your breasts through your bra.
“Please” you whined. He eyes snapped up to meet yours, and he saw the neediness in your eyes. “I’ll take care of you” he said, picking you up in a single motion.
He carried you into your bedroom and lightly set you down on the bed before kissing you. You kissed him like your life depended on it; it was needy, but also caring and intimate.
You tugged at the hem of his shirt telling him to take it off. He stood up and stripped himself until he was in his boxers. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back down on top of you.
You jutted his hips up into his. “You’re practically dripping, sweetheart” he said, with his hand on the outside of your panties. He pulled you towards the end of the bed and kneeled on the ground. His fingers looped in the top of your panties and pulled them down your legs.
“You are so beautiful” he said, placing soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. His hands massaged the supple skin as he left wet kisses. You twitched under his touch. He knew that meant he needed to hurry up, but he wanted to love every single part of your body.
You felt his hot breath in between your legs. You whined and then felt his tongue dive into your folds. You threw your head back and called out his name. He’d finally given you what you needed.
Your fingers grasped for his hair, desperate to grab onto something. He lapped up all the arousal that pooled between your thighs. He pressed his tongue flat against your clit, sending a jolt through you.
You bucked your hips up against him. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl” he praised, beginning to suck on the bundle of nerves. You balled your fists into the sheets.
You couldn’t take much more. “You taste so perfect” he mumbled, slipping his tongue back inside you. Your thighs tightened around his head. He pinned down your legs, while his nose brushed against your clit.
“So close,” the words fell from your lips in a breathless pant. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm.
Bucky sucked on your clit, wanting you to cum just as much as you wanted to. Then, the pressure was gone and you drenched his face. He smirked to himself as you wore a panicked expression.
“Did you know you could do that?” He asked you. You shook your head, ashamed. He interlaced his fingers with yours. “Don’t be shy” he said, before kissing you again. You could taste yourself on his lips.
“You are so perfect” he said, placing kisses up and down your jawline. He pushed you back onto the bed. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. I’ll show you what a real man is like” He said, taking off his boxers.
His cock slapped against his stomach, leaking with precum. He noticed you staring at his throbbing cock. “You see what you do to me?” He asked, smirking.
You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. His hands snuck behind your back to unclasp your bra. He threw it to the side before catching your lips in a kiss.
He hesitated to go any further. “I want this” you assured him, giving him the consent he needed. His hands landed on your hips, holding you in place.
He lined himself up and looked up to meet your eyes. You gave him a reassuring nod. He pushed half of his length inside of you, and you already felt full. “Bucky, oh—fuck. Keep going” you begged, biting down on your lip.
He squeezed harder on your hips and pushed his entire cock into you. You whimpered, adjusting to his length. “Angel, you feel so good wrapped around me” he muttered.
He pulled all the way out of you, leaving you feeling empty. Then, he pushed back into you. Your hips jutted up to meet his. He grunted as you clenched onto his length. He began to thrust in and out of you. You held onto his shoulders to steady yourself.
“Oh...god. Bucky—right there” you moaned out. His sweaty skin slapped against yours. Breathless moans passed through your lips as your face contorted.
“Your moans sound so pretty, angel. He doesn’t make you feel this good, I know” he said, as you whined under him. You threw your head back as he hit your g-spot. “Thin walls, sweetheart. I can always hear you two. I never hear these moans though. Does he make you feel as good as I do?” He asked, pecking your lips.
You eagerly shook your head no. “Use your words, pretty girl” he groaned. You took his hands into your yours, squeezing his hands. He pinned your hands above your head, and continued to reach deep inside of you. “He never made me feel as good as you do” you moaned out.
He reached a hand down and drew circles on your clit. You could feel him pulsing inside of you. “I’m really close” he groaned. He sped up his pace, ramming into you. You grasped at his shoulders, as you got closer to your high.
You reached your peak, squirting all over his cock that continued to thrust into you. You could feel him twitch and then felt his cum fill you up.
He slowed his thrusts, as you both took sloppy breaths. He pulled you in to a gentle kiss, cupping your face.
Then, your heart sank. The guilt set in. “I just cheated on Alex” you mumbled, feeling guilty. His face softened, as he caressed your cheek.
“Why do you stay with him?” He asked you, seriously. You squirmed under Bucky’s gaze. “Because I couldn’t sit around and wait forever for the guy I really wanted” you said, finally looking into his eyes.
He chuckled to himself. “I’m right here, ready for you. You can have me, all of me. Let me be yours” he begged you.
You thought about the possibility, finally being with Bucky. You had waited years for this moment, but now that it was here, you weren’t sure what to do.
“But what about Alex? I still broke his trust. This is wrong” you said, trying to pull away from him. He held you still with his strong grasp. You continued to squirm, trying to get away. “Maybe our timing is off, but tell me you didn’t want this. Tell me that this meant nothing and I’ll leave” Bucky told you.
You froze under him. You couldn’t lie to Bucky.
“Of course it meant something” you said, quietly. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips slotting against yours. “Then be with me” he told you, simply.
A small smile appeared on your face. “Okay” you finally gave in. His eyes light up like a kid in a candy store before slipping his arms under your back and pulling you closer to him. His lips were quickly on yours. It was a short, but intimate kiss.
He laid beside you and wrapped his arm around you. You both dozed off and when Alex came home, you broke things off. Without you even telling him, he knew it was because of Bucky.
He could tell by the way you both looked at each other. He’d known all along that you both had feelings for each other.
He saw it in your lingering glances, your inside jokes, and your instincts to protect each other. It had been obvious to everyone except for you and Bucky.
Anyone could tell just by the way that Bucky looked at you that you both could never just be roommates.
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world-of-aus · 25 days ago
Stark Hub - The Girl Is MINE
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Pairing: Pornstar!Bucky x Pornstar!Reader
Warnings: Smut 18+ (paddle, pet names, oral, female and male recieving, ROUGH SEX)
A/N: This took me much longer than i wanted, but with training and now school officially back in session i am trying to find a balance. I hope you all enjoy this part as much as i enjoyed putting it together. Enjoy Bunny’s!
Enjoyed This Work? All Other Work Can Be Found On My Masterlist!
“Tony,” Pepper sighed as she watched her husband huff at the computer screen, “you’re letting your rivals get under your skin again, it’s one video,” she tried to reason, “one, you really think that video is going to have viewers switching over from Stark Hub to Hydra Films?”
Tony looked at his wife, a sigh leaving his lips as he slumped back in his chair, “Pepper, sweetheart, numbers in porn, aren’t just numbers, with the traction this one video alone is getting, it's enough to have even our most loyal viewer switch over – curiosity killed the cat you know.”
Pepper’s brows furrows, “what exactly did Hydra Films film that has you worried about our numbers, we have ‘The Soldier’ tony, viewers always come back for him.
Tony scrubs a hand over his face before he’s jolting up, hands moving to his keyboard as he types something in. Tony had been hoping his wife wouldn’t have to see this video at all, but if he wants her to understand his frustration, it needs to be done, it’s the only way he might get her to understand. His jaw is tense as he looks for what he’s searching for, his eyes meeting his wife’s as soon as he finds it, “come around the desk Pep.”
Pepper does as she's asked even giving her husband a comforting squeeze to his shoulder as she sidles up behind him. When she goes to move her hand Tony’s reaching for it, keeping it there, he meets her curious eye’s “you might want to grab onto something with what you’re about to watch, it might not sit right with you, in a way this video involves you as well.”
Pepper is very rarely one to worry or scare away with porn, but she still obliges her husband's request and leaves her hand resting there. Curiosity indeed killed the cat.
Tony’s turning back to the screen, finger hovering the mouse over the play button, a soft click meets his ears, the video on screen begins to play.
Pepper’s eyes are glued to the screen, though a wince is etched onto her features as she watches Rumlow strike his female counter part with a paddle on her spread thighs, this was the fifth one she had watched him lay down.
Pepper feels for the female starlet who’s head is covered by a brown sack as after every wack she lets out a pained yelp, but this is the type of porn Hydra Films was known for, this is what they sold, this what their viewers liked.
“God Tony, I can’t this is-”
Tony’s shushing his wife, “you think this is bad, Pep this is nothing, just wait a bit, keep watching.”
Any other day and Pepper may have just squeezed her husband’s shoulder and walked away, but his words kept her there, his words kept her gaze on the screen before them.
‘You’re a dirty little slut aren’t you,’ Rumlow all but growls as he circles the bound girl, paddle at the ready.
‘You think ‘the soldier’ is bad, you think he treats you like the hungry little cockslut you are’ he grunts.
“Tony,” Pepper warns, “what -”
He’s shushing her again, his hand finding her’s squeezing;
‘you see I don’t think the soldier is giving you what you really need, treating you like you deserve to be treated,’ Rumlow continues on screen.
‘I would like to show him though,’ he breathes as he runs a paddle up the girl’s leg, ‘would like to show him how to properly fuck a girl like you, a hungry, dumb little cockslut like you.’ He pauses then, the paddle resting between the girls open legs he looks over his shoulder, eyes dead set on the camera, “what do you say y/n, should we show the soldier.”
Pepper let’s out an audible gasp as she takes a step back her hand ripping itself from her husbands hold as if he’s the one that’s burned her.
“Tony – what,” she breathes her hand coming to rest on her chest, she can’t even bring herself to look back at the screen, Rumlows words having stuck a cord. Tony pauses the video then turning in his chair, “you don’t want to see the rest, at least not right now, trust me it’s not stark-hub friendly.”
“Y-you don’t think y/n would actually agree to something like this do you,” she questions, “I know she’s threatened you with jumping ship to Hydra Films before but you don’t actually believe.”
Tony reaches for his hand's wife, taking them in his as he pulls her closer, thumbs running comfortingly over hers, “as much as she may threaten me, which I deserved,” he adds, “I know the girl under that mask isn’t y/n.”
Pepper’s brows furrows as she watches her husband's lips quirk into a small smile, “Barnes borrowed equipment from Barton to film his private with y/n on Saturday,” he starts, “Barnes also asked me not to bother checking on him Sunday because he wouldn’t be available, and if I recall your calls to y/n were forwarded were they not?”
Pepper doesn’t answer, keeping her face neutral as she looks at her husband, “Pep, sweetheart I know that girl under that mask isn’t y/n, and if it had been Rumlow wouldn’t have even landed that first smack before Barnes would be breaking down the sets door to get to her, or rather him.” Tony shakes his head with a small puff of air significant to a laugh leaving his lips as he sidles back into his chair, “been working with Barnes for years now and he doesn’t think I know when he’s smitten for a girl.”
Pep finally lets a smile break her lips, “he is taken with her, isn’t he?”
Tony’s smile grows as he pulls on his wife's hands tugging her closer till she’s falling into his embrace, “he’s been requesting her every week since there first film together,” he chuckles. “Never seen Barnes so trusting – so willing to open himself so quickly to another person before, but,” he sighs, “that kid though, she’s a firecracker, she’s good for him,” he murmurs as he pulls his wife in closer.
“She really is,” Pepper agrees softly, leaning into her husband, “but what are we gonna do about this Tony, what if word gets out about the video, how is this gonna sit with those who don’t know about where y/n was that day.”
Tony sighs deeply as he looks over at the paused screen, he squeezes his wife's hip lightly as he considers his next move, “this video isn’t gonna sit well with anyone, not even those who know for sure y/n isn’t the one behind that sack,” he answers, and Pepper knows he’s referring to Bucky. “Honestly never thought I would be saying this but I think it’s time stark hub held its first meeting.”
“You going to tell y/n and Bucky separately?”
Tony shakes his head, “I don’t want to work either of them up, I think it’s best to do it in person he murmurs, “don’t need Barnes or y/n knocking down sets at hydra films.”
Pepper sighs deeply leaning her head against her husbands, “you know y/n is going to assume the worse when you mention a meeting right, you sure I can’t tell her?”
Tony shakes his head, “there’s just some things that need to be heard and said from me Pep, just let me do this, let me try and make this right.”
Though Pepper wants to disagree, and state that she is your boss, she’ll let tony have this one, maybe this would be the thing to bring him back in your good graces.
Pepper only hopes you won’t get too anxious with the mention of the meeting, but she has a feeling it won’t bode over well for you.
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“Pepper,” you whine as you struggle to match her step, “Pepper seriously, what’s going on, you’re starting to freak me out too, and I was already freaking out when your husband sent out that group text about today’s meeting last night, are you really not going to give me anything about what’s going on?”
Pepper turned to look at you though her stride never faltered, “There’s nothing to worry about y/n I promise everything is fine, I just wanted you to prepare yourself for today’s meeting is all, the issue at hand might be a bit overwhelming for you.”
You stop in your step, “for me,” you question bringing your manager to a halt as well as she turns to face you, she steps towards you, “I can’t say much because what Tony is going to present to you will be plenty, but if you must know today's issue involves you and Bucky.”
Your heart drops in your chest, “m-me and bucky,” you breathe.
“This is exactly why I wanted to tell you myself,” Pepper sighs, “listen I know what you must be thinking, but that’s not what today’s meeting is about,” she reassures when she sees the worry that laces your features, “while yes the issue at hand involves the two of you, it has nothing to do with you and Bucky being so close.”
She shakes her head, “as your manager, I need you to trust my word,” she answers, hands reaching out to squeeze your shoulders. “Now right now we’re going to go into the meeting room and while you may want to sit with Bucky and the others, I would like for you to sit right next to me for this one, because should you feel any sort of way during the duration of the meeting you and I can step out, do you understand?”
You can do nothing but silently nod your understanding, “I mean it y/n, if anything makes you uncomfortable you lean over and tell me you need out.” When you don’t offer her anything more than a stiff nod, she’s giving your shoulders one more squeeze, “come on now, we’re a bit behind schedule.”
You follow behind pepper, your mind racing a mile a minute as you think of every possible scenario of the meeting your about to enter, and they all seem to end in Tony firing you on the spot, because there was just no other explanation in your head for Stark holding this meeting today other than for you to meet your end in the porn industry. With the thought planted in your head it’s like you're on autopilot as you follow Pepper into the meeting room, the other stars of stark hub already seated and waiting. As you follow close behind you find yourself for the first time in a long time since filming with him that you’re not able to search for Bucky’s awaiting eyes.
You remain quiet as you follow pepper to the two open spots that are seemingly at the end of the table, almost like you’re being placed on display for everyone to see your dismay, pepper pulls your chair for you letting you fall into it before she takes her own seat.
You can’t seem to meet anyone else’s eyes except Tony’s as he begins to speak to the group of stars sat before him.
“I was debating even holding this meeting today,” he starts, “but after a discussion with Pepper, it was decided that the issue of today’s meeting should come from me, before it find’s you.” Tony’s eyes find yours and you’ve forgotten how to breathe, “now before I continue this meeting, I would just like to say that y/n should you find any of what you’re about to be shown upsetting in anyway feel free to ask me to stop the video entirely, is that understood.”
Your brows furrow, but you nod your head nonetheless, “alright well,” he takes a deep breath as he turns to the laptop connected to the projector, “let’s get started.”
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You hadn’t been sure what to expect when tony mentioned a video, hell this isn’t what you expected this meeting to be about at all, but now that the scene was playing before you, you weren’t sure what exactly you were feeling to begin with. It surely wasn’t the nerves that had been present before you entered the room.
You didn’t know whether you felt anger, disgust, or distaste towards the scene that Hydra Films had put together, if you were honest you felt more than just that, as it continued to play before you, you were sick. You were surprised this hadn’t found you before today, based on the published date at the bottom of the film this had been filmed right after your last private with Bucky and it was now going on a little over a week since then, surely, they would have wanted this to find you sooner had this actually been meant for you, but you had a feeling this was much more than just a stab at Stark Hub, much larger than you and the soldier.
The meeting room grows eerily quiet as the ending credits of the film fill the room, no longer are the pained screams of the woman who had been you filling your ears or that of your co-stars. Pepper squeezes your hand, which had found yours mid-film, your eyes meet hers before you're looking around the room, seemingly stopping on Bucky’s tense form before there flitting over to Tony’s who’s already looking at you.
“I don’t know what game Hydra Films is playing, but I assure you that that girl is not me,” you find yourself speaking suddenly feeling the need to defend yourself before the eyes of your co-stars, before Bucky.
Tony to your surprise nods his head in understanding, “I know, and as much as you have threatened me with signing on with Hydra Films, which I deserved,” he adds, “even I know you wouldn’t have willingly let yourself be filmed in a manner such as that.”
Your racing heart calms momentarily, but your mind continues to race with questions, “who sent you the video?”
Tony takes in a breath, hands finding the back of his chair as he braces himself, “It was sent to me by alexander pierce himself, it was attached to a message that had said I should watch my stars more carefully.”
“Well how do you know that isn’t y/n though,” Sharon butts in, “she works plenty with Barnes, and if you ask me Rumlow isn’t that far from being another soldier, you said yourself she threatened to jump to hydra films before, maybe she finally took the leap behind your back.”
Your head snaps to the blonde, eyes glaring as she meets your eyes, “Really Carter,” you scoff, “Brock Rumlow is nowhere close to being another soldier, I don’t know what image you have of Bucky but Brock isn’t it, Stark Hub is vanilla compared to what Hydra Films puts out, sorry,” you murmur glancing at Tony.”
“And how would you know that, if you haven’t filmed with Hydra,” Sharon all but sneers, bringing your gaze back to her.
Your lips part to answer, but Bucky is beating you to the punch, the broad brunette no longer able to hold his tongue, “because she was with me the day that film was produced, so whoever that girl is, it wasn’t y/n and if you still don’t believe it wasn’t her you can ask Pepper.”
Sharon breaks eyes contact with you to look at Bucky, she then looks at Pepper who is sat next to you, “I’m not sure how Tony handles contact with you,” Pepper begins, “but y/n and I are always in contact, even on her days off and I can attest to her being in the company of Mr. Barnes that Sunday the film was released.”
Sharon’s lip's part in disbelief, a huff leaving her lips seconds later as she turns away arms crossing over her chest as she slumps back into her chair.
“Now,” Tony continues, “with us knowing the whereabouts of y/n, and that the female in question is most definitely not her, I can only assume Hydra Films did this for the views, see I took a look at our numbers after receiving the video and it became quite obvious why Pierce and Rumlow chose to come after the soldier and his favored counterpart.” All eyes are on the screen behind Tony which now has the soldier's videos projected up, “I've looked over all Barne’s work, and while the views are all high no matter who he has stared with, when we take a look at the most popular uploads, it’s all the one’s y/n has stared in.” “Now, Hydra has never been above coming after another rival porn site, but if you ask me this is a new low, to a viewer who has never been on stark hubs website much less seen y/n they’re not going to know the girl under that rag of a bag isn’t her, because at the end of the day viewers don’t care who’s under that bag the minute her name leaves his lips that’s all the truth they’re going to believe, it’s all a fantasy guys, and a fantasy that supposedly involves one of our own, now if this gets out to our most loyal viewers I guarantee they’re going to jump ship just to see what all the fuss is about.”
“So, what are we going to do,” Bucky questions, “are we just going to let them have this moment, let them degrade y/n’s name like that for five minutes of fame?”
Tony pulls his chair out taking a seat before he’s rolling himself into the table, “We’re family here, and what Hydra Films did by producing this video was come after two of our very own, and that’s not going to just slide with me,” he answers. “Now, I’ve had an idea bouncing in my head since I shared the film with pepper, but I would need both you and y/n to agree to it, what I'm going to ask from you two involves something y/n might not be on board with.”
“What is it,” you question.
“I want to replicate the scene; rag bag, paddle, everything, the only difference here would be the bag coming off mid scene.” Tony looks at you, “now y/n I know how you feel about paddles which is why if you don’t agree we can -”
“We can do the paddle as long as Bucky is the one wielding it,” you answer, “I trust him.”
Your eyes find Bucky’s for a second before they’re moving back to Tony’s, he seems surprised at your answer.
“Now hold on a second, are you sure about this kid, when you signed on that’s one of those things you crossed off.”
“I know,” you answer, “but I’m not about to let hydra films make a mock out of stark hub, besides there’s no one better to show Brock Rumlow how it’s done then Bucky Barnes, this is what they wanted isn’t it, to get a rise from the soldier, so let them have it.”
“That’s our girl,” you hear Sam laugh, “damn right, look at how hard she’s worked to get a chance with stark hubs most sought after star, hydra films has zero chance at making it out of their grave this time,” Steve chimes in.
Your lip's part, a grin pulling at the sides of your mouth, “well I'll be damned,” Tony breathes with slight laughter, “what do you say Barnes, you up for this?”
All eyes fall on Bucky at that moment, but your eyes are the only thing he sees in the room filled with his costars, “someone needs to show Rumlow who y/n really belongs too.”
The room fills with loud cat calls then as your costars praise Bucky’s words, your so caught up in Bucky’s gaze that you don’t catch Tony’s eyeroll at the group of stars, you barely even catch his muffled words, “y/n, Buck, I'll need to see you two in my office to talk scene, I want this filmed tomorrow.”
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You slide the glass bottle across the wooden top, “penny for your thoughts buck, you’ve been awfully quiet since you invited me out tonight.”
Ocean blues meet yours in the dim of the bar, he grabs a hold of the beer bottle bringing it in closer but not taking a drink.
“You know when I called tony after he sent out that group text about the meeting, I had been expecting anything but that, hell at this point I’m wishing it had been anything but that.”
You bring your own drink closer, fingers gliding over the top of the rim, “I’ve heard enough to know Hydra to be a shady company when it comes to building their number’s I just didn’t know they’d go that far.”
Bucky shakes his head lightly eyes falling to the table as his thumb flicks over the label of the bottle, “I just don’t understand why they came after you, why they would use your name like that, it’s like they knew they’d get a reaction out of me by using you.”
Your heart skips a beat in your chest at his words and for the first time since arriving at the bar your grateful his gaze isn’t on yours, surely your face alone would give way to how they made you feel.
“C’mon Buck, I'm sure you would have had the same reaction had it been any of the other girls,” you find yourself saying.
You aren’t expecting his eyes to meet yours so instantly, so intently, “Hydra Films might have gotten a reaction out of me had it been any of the other girls I'm not going to say you’re wrong there,” he answers, “but not the reaction they’ve gotten from me knowing it involves you.”
You’d be lying if you said his words hadn’t struck something inside of you, “If you ask me though, a part of me wishes it had been any other girl than you.”
Your brows furrow, heart plummeting in your chest lightly, “why?”
“What Tony's asking me to do,” his jaw clenches, fingers tightening on the beer bottle in his hand, “I know this is our job, and we’re meant to sell sex which you obviously do a damn good job if Hydra Films chose to come after you, but I don’t know that I can let myself be that rough with you, especially with the one thing you said you’d never do.”
“The paddle.”
Bucky nods, eyes meeting yours once more, “you saw the video y/n, Rumlow didn’t hit lightly, nor did he hold himself back, and Tony wants me to do exactly that, he wants me to copy Rumlow move per move, do you know what he’s even asking me to do to you?”
“If you think you’re going to hurt me Buck, this is my job I -”
“Y/n you’ve never been hit,” he butts in, “yeah a smack in the ass, a harsh pull of your hair, maybe a light pat to your face, even Loki has boundaries,” he mutters, “but you’ve never filmed something like this, you don’t know what you’re agreeing too, what you’re asking me to agree too.”
“I know exactly what I'm agreeing too,” you answer, “and I know exactly what it is I'm asking you to do, and there’s a reason I'm asking it,” you reach your hand out letting it fall over his, “I trust you Bucky, I trust that you’ll check in with me when you think it's too much for me, I know you’re not going to hurt me, at least not intentionally.”
Bucky doesn’t seem completely taken with your words, “Buck this is our job,” you try, “and while maybe I don’t know what I'm actually asking from the both of us, I do know that I wouldn’t want to share this moment with anyone else, I wouldn’t want my first time experiencing a paddle with anyone else,” your fingers squeeze his, “I trust you Bucky, and I know you would never hurt me if you could help it.”
A sigh leaves Bucky lips, “hey, what happened to showing Rumlow who I actually belonged to?”
You can’t help the small smile that pulls at the corner of your mouth at the small reaction that you get out of him. The way his jaw clenches has you squirming in your seat, a reaction you’re sure only he could get out of you.
“If I agree to this, I don’t care what Stark says, what he’s said today, what he might say tomorrow, but I'm not going to lay that paddle down on your skin like Rumlow did, I want you to want this y/n, I want you to want me to mark you, I want you pleading for another hit from me.”
Your breath catches in your throat and had it not been for your location you’re sure you would have let a moan spill past your lips. Instead, you offer him a smirk as you brave yourself to lean against the table, the movement bringing you closer to him, “there he is,” you murmur.
“I’m being serious y/n” he says as he mirrors your stance, his beer bottle being pushed off to the side, “I don’t care what Stark say’s, I don’t care if he blows his top, if we’re to film this it's going to be done my way, the act should be pleasurable for my partner, not painful.”
Your hands find one another, fingers squeezing, “I trust you Buck, besides something tells me you’ll have me gushing in my seat before you’re even fucking me.”
Bucky chuckles then, a smile pulling at this lips that you’re sure you’re never going to get tired of seeing, and for a second you let yourself think just how bad you have it for the brunette in front of you.
“How about we close the tab, catch a cab and see if I can have you gushing before I get you home?”
Heat grows in the apple of your cheeks, teeth finding your lower lip as you lean back slightly, fingers waving in the air as you wave down your waitress, “won’t be surprised if next meeting stark decides to hold is actually about us.”
A grin pulls at the brunettes' pink lips, “you and I both sugar, but if you ask me I think starks starting to come around.”
Your brow raises a smirk of your own pulling at your lips, “oh you think?”
He’s nodding, smirk mirroring your own as he pulls out his card to pay the tab, because so am I, he thinks.
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“No, absolutely not Barnes, I told you what I wanted, and I said I wanted a literal copy, paste!”
“You want a copy paste, you can find someone else to film, you know I'm not above walking off set, I've done it before,” Bucky warns.
Tony looks at you, and you can’t help but to look at Pepper who’s posted behind you this time for assistance, “Tony what is so wrong with Barnes taking it in his direction, he’s the Porn star here, he knows what sells, and if he thinks taking a softer side to this is going to work then you should trust his word.”
“Thank you Pep,” Bucky murmurs, “and I'm sorry Stark but if you wanted someone to willingly film your copy and paste you should have gone to Hydra Films themselves, this is y/n’s first time filming a scene like this and you want me to just lay it down on her, do you even know what you’re asking from the both of us?”
Tony looks between the three of you, then over to Clint who is on standby, “You gonna shoot me down on this too Barton?”
Clint shakes his head as he comes closer, “not gonna shoot you down boss, but I do have to side with Barnes on this, y/n signed off on no paddles when she first signed on, she’s willing to meet you halfway doing it Bucky’s way, it’s not like you’re not getting your film, you’re just gonna get it better.”
Tony looks at you then, and for a second you feel more exposed than you currently are under your robe, “I’m not gonna back out Tony, like I told Bucky I trust him, but I would like him to go about it the way he thinks will work for both of us, we’re Porn stars,” you continue, “we sell sex for a living, trust us on this one, Hydra Films isn’t going to know what hit them.”
Tony sighs, running a hand over his chin, “yeah well neither are you,” he’s then pointing a finger at Bucky, “I’m going to trust your judgement on this one Barnes, but I want to see numbers, you think you both can give me that?”
You’re both giving him a curt nod, “alright, alright, well I trust you two so I'll let you get too it, Barton I want the film edited and on my desk by tonight,” he calls as he goes to turn on his heel, “and Pepper I'd like to see you in my office when you’re done with Y/n.”
You’re all turning to Clint then who is seemingly grinning to the point of no return, “you two ready?”
You and Bucky turn to face one another, he offers you a warm smile, his hand coming up to brush your cheek, “let's put on a show little darlin.”
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The set’s room is cold, a shiver rolling through you as you walk onto the darkened set to the single chair with braided rope waiting for you. Pepper’s hand is on your back as she guides you too it, once in distance to sit, you're turning your back to it looking at Pepper, “can we wait to take my robe off this time,” you question.
Pepper looks at you with furrowed brows, “I’d like to have the bag over my head before you pull of the robe - before Bucky comes in to tie the rope around me.”
“Nervous,” she questions, with a touch of her hand to your cheek.
“That’s an understatement,” you laugh though it feels forced, Pepper coos at you patting your cheek, “Bucky’s not going to do anything that you don’t like y/n, he might have a hard exterior but he’s soft for you, though you know that already,” she grins.
A smile pulls at your lips as you lift your robe from the back slightly to sit, the cool wood of the chair causing you to jump slightly. You want to tell her you already know this, you’ve experience it on more than one occasion, but instead you opt for, “I want a week off after this.”
Pepper raises a brow, “even if Barnes is the one requesting,” she smirks tone teasing.
“Even if its Barnes requesting.”
“Honestly after a shoot like this no one blames you kid, I am gonna miss filming you though,” Barton chimes in as he brings Pepper the brown sack meant to go over your head, “you gonna be alright under that?”
You look at the sack he passes to pepper nodding your head as you meet their eyes, “its only for a few minutes, besides it’ll hide the running mascara,” you joke.
“Oh, but that’s the best part,” you hear from behind you.
You turn your head to see Bucky prowling onto set, black pants hugging low on his hips, torso on full display for you, “you need some help getting ready?”
Your lips part to answer but Pepper is beating you to the punch, “actually yes she does, and who better to do the job than her partner,” she chirps as she leans past you to hand Bucky the brown sack.
You’re sure your accusing eyes are showing as you look up at your boss, she grips your chin squeezing, “I’ll see you after set, and don’t worry I'm giving you the rest of the week off already,” she grins with a wink.
“Make it two.”
Pepper laughs as she follows Clint off the main stage set, “don’t think even you can stay away that long!”
You grumble half-heartedly under your breath as you watch them walk off set, Clint going to his post behind the camera, and Bucky taking the spot they were once in, he kneels before you the brown bag placed on his knee neatly as he looks up at you.
“How are you feeling, you ready for today?”
Your heart warms slightly at the concern laced in his voice, and had there not been anyone else in the room you might have leaned in to kiss him. Might.
Because that’s not what friends did, did they?
“As ready as I might be for any filming day, since you’re gonna get me ready will you do me a favor,” you question.
Bucky’s head is tilting slightly in question, “will you take off my robe after you place the bag on my head?”
Bucky’s brows furrow, like he knows what you’re asking but he can’t imagine why you’re asking, “you trust me right?”
Now confusion is the one striking you as you answer, “Buck, you know I do but I-”
His hand touches your knee, “so then trust me right now,” he murmurs, “you said you trust me right?”
A smile though nervous pulls at your lips, “you’re not gonna make me go back on my word are you,” you tease.
A mirrored smile pulls at Bucky’s lips as he leans up slightly, one of his hands going for the back of your head as he brings you closer, “wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmurs before his lips are finding yours in a soft press of his lips to yours.
A part of you is well aware that the crew is in the room with you, and oh what they must be thinking because Clint hasn’t called for you too to start yet. The other part of you though lets yourself give in to it, your lips molding further to his as he pulls you closer with his right, while his left-hand inches the material of your robe higher up your already exposed thigh.
Your body curves with his touch, a shiver rolling up your spine as he inches up grasping the exposed skin of your hip, he pulls away with a breathy chuckle not indulging the way your lips chase his. He’s tsking quietly, “no panties baby,” he questions, “s’that why you wanted to hide that pretty face of yours from me, you ashamed of me seeing you like this, seeing you so bare and open for daddy.”
Your breath catches in your throat, and you had half a mind to hold back the whine at the name the soldier has given himself when performing a scene with you.
His hand slips from the back of your head, to cup your cheek, as dazzling ocean greys gone almost black gaze up at you, “you have nothing to be shy about sweet girl, daddy wants all the world to see this pretty pussy, wants all the world to know who it belongs to, who you belong too,” he all but growls.
Heat drops south at his words, slick pooling between your legs, as a small moan bubbles up your throat. The soldier or maybe Bucky smirks at the reaction he’s managed to get out of you, “would you like that y/n, would you like me to show them who you belong too?”
Your whining low, head bobbing as you reply an almost breathless ‘yes sir’, his smirk morphs into a grin, as he leans in, “such a good girl, look at you, using your manners,” he murmurs his lips barely brushing yours.
It's an accidental slip of tongue, but it was really only meant for the broad man kneeling before you to hear, ‘Bucky please’.
He seals his name spilling from your mouth with a harsh press of his lips to yours, his tongue sliding past your parted lips to tangle with yours.
The soldier manages to steal your breath away, drawing out those sweet delicate moans that were seemingly reserved just for him. The hand that had squeezed your hip was now making its way up the material of your robe, stopping just short of the knot that holds your robe together.  
He pulls away from your lips but only slightly, as he glances down to where his fingers work your knot open. Your breath is stalled in your throat as you watch his face, his eyes darkening further as he pulls on the strings the secure parts of your robe falling open.
Your breath hitches then, both of his hands now on the opened parts of your robes, feeling the material. His eyes meet yours, “it’s a shame you would ever want to hide this from me,” he murmurs his fingers dropping the robe to caress the skin of your breast instead.
His thumb reaches out gliding over a now hardened nipple, the heat further pools between your legs.  
“Fucking gorgeous,” he breathes as he cups your breast squeezing, “can’t imagine why you would want to hide this from me, don’t you know how beautiful this body is, how sought after it is?”
You hold back a whine as his fingers trail down the expanse of your torso, goosebumps rising in the wake of his touch, “it’s all mine though isn’t it,” he questions, his fingers dipping further, inching closer to your heat.
Your eyes slip shut when his fingers brush over your slit, his fingers brush over your slit, his digit picking up the slick that’s collected in the wet of your heat. 
When your sight comes too, your met with a blinding gaze, “so wet for me,” the soldier all but purrs as he stares at you intently, lips pulled back into a smirk, “this pretty fucking pussy is all mine isn’t it, belongs to sir doesn’t it?”
His gaze has you locked in place as he brings his index fingers to his lips, tongue running over the glistening slick glazed on his finger, his eyes fall shut, as he licks it off, a soft groan bubbling in his chest as he savors your sweetness.
Your whining low in your throat, pussy twitching as you watch him savor the taste of you, “fuck that’s good,” he grins, eyes gone dark as they pop open instantly finding yours. Its unexpected as Bucky reaches for your hips, pulling your lower half to the very edge of the wooden chair, you fall back with a quiet pained gasp as he pushes your legs apart strong build settling between them.
“Was planning on tying you up, showing the world who you really belonged to, how a dirty cock slut deserves to be fucked, but the thing is you’re a sweet girl too aren’t you,” he coos, “always so willing to serve me, always so willing to let me take any and everything I want from you.”
You're whispering a breathless ‘yes sir’ as you stare down at him with wide awaiting eyes, your legs seemingly spreading further on their own accord as if that might get him closer. The soldier chuckles, “look at you, spreading your legs further for me, you want me to kiss this pretty pussy baby?”
Another whine spills past your lips along with a groan as he spreads the folds of your pussy with his thumb. The soldier hums under his breath, “need you to use your words, tell sir exactly what you want me to do to you.”
Your back arches against the wood of the chair, the abandoned braided rope catching on your robe, “kiss my pussy sir, want you to make me feel good with your tongue, wanna come on your tongue please.”
The soldier moans low in his throat his finger flicking along your wet folds, the digit dipping in slightly, “so sweet for me baby, using all your manners, sir’s gonna make you feel real good,” he murmurs.
“Soldat, please,” you moan, “need your mouth.”
He chuckles low in his throat, “you’re more than just my cock slut aren’t you,” he coo’s face pressing in close, tongue peeking out to press flat against your folds. His tongue dips in dragging across your entrance till he’s flicking up against your clit, the tip of his tongue circling it.
Your chest heaves, head meeting the top of the chair as you whimper out profanities, “f-fuck, oh fuck please,” you whine.
Your fingers press into his hair, keeping him there, thighs falling around his shoulders as your hips roll up slightly. The soldier gets a tight grip on your thighs” that’s right baby keep em open for me, let me see how wet you are for me.”
Your back arches at his words exposed breasts pushing into the cooled air as his tongue flicks teasingly in and out of your soaked folds.
“You like when i use my tongue like that, you want me to fuck you with my tongue?”
Your fingers curl further into his locks, twisting them in your hold. A slur of “yes’s” falling from your lips as he continues to work his mouth over you, bringing you closure to that pleasure that will have you falling over the edge.
The soldier alternates between your clit and your dripping entrance, his tongue dragging over your clit just before it’s plunging down to bury itself in your entrance his tongue fucking into you till your screaming his name.
“Fuck soldat, don’t stop,” you moan, “please keep fucking my pretty pussy with your tongue sir!”
He grins against your folds continuing to work you over, moans of pleasure falling from his lips the vibrations surging through you leaving you quaking in his hold. His darkened eyes meet yours you weren’t sure it was possible but they seemingly darkened more as he pushed you closer to release. His hands release their grip, arms wrapping around your spread thighs pulling you into him more, his lips work faster, tongue gliding quicker as he works you over.
Loud moans spill from your lips as he quickens the pace in which his tongue fucks into you, his stage name falling from your lips in a silent prayer as your grind up against his mouth.  
“You close pretty girl, you gonna come all over my tongue,” he hums.
“Fuck sir, I’m close,  I’m so close please let me cum on your tongue!”
A moan catches in your throat, his lips finding your clit as he sucks harshly, his tongue working over the sensitive nub with quick strokes. The walls of your pussy clench, body heaving as the intense pleasure washes over you. The soldier doesn’t stop as he works you through first your orgasm his tongue continuously flicking over you, dipping into you to suck up your sweet juices. Your vision goes white as you clench around him fingers pulling at his hair.
“Mmmm,” you groan tugging, “fuck sir too much, too much please,” you hiss trying with no avail to pry him away from your much to sensitive core.
The soldier grunts at your incessant tugging, “I'll let you know when you’ve had enough,” he all but growls tongue flicking lazily over your clit, “now sit like a good girl that I know you are, or I'm gonna have to tie you up and punish you, you don’t want that do you, don’t want sir to punish you?”
Your breath catches in your throat at the thought of the paddle and sack of a bag resting on the floor just outside of the scene, but you also know this is exactly what you need to do.
You indulge the soldiers request for you to sit like a good girl while he continues to eat you out, for a minute or two before your whining once more, fingers tugging, begging pleas spilling from your lips as you plead with him that it’s far too much.
The soldier puts up with the whines for a minute before he’s stopping entirely, a growl growing in his chest as he pushes your legs away, his hands pushing him to his full height as he looms over you. His hands find the tops of your chair caging you in.
“I told you to be a good girl,” he huffs, “wasn’t sir making you feel good, wasn’t he giving you everything you wanted?”
You look up at him with wide eyes, “yes sir but -”
“But what,” he grunts, “was sir not giving you enough, do you need more from me, is that why you’re acting up?”
Your words are caught in your throat as you stare up the long-haired brunette, “you do don’t you,” he coo’s, “are you too scared to ask sir for what you want?”
You still can’t find the words, can only bat your eyes at him, give him a bite of your lip as answer, “oh my sweet girl, don’t you worry sir knows exactly what you need.”
Your pulled from the daze the soldiers put you in when you hear Clint, call a scene cut, the set suddenly buzzing around you as things are being moved around.
The soldier moves away from you as Bucky seemingly takes his place as he asks you how you’re doing.
“They were recording this entire time?”
Bucky chuckles, as he grabs your hands pulling you up slightly to grab the ropes hung loosely on the chair, “yeah sugar they were, spoke to clint while you were getting prepped with pep if there was any way that we could just start filming based off a cue rather than him calling the scene’s start.”
You let Bucky help you free from your robe that had now pulled at the bend in your arms, “what was the cue?”
A small smile pulls at the corner of Bucky’s lips, “as soon as my lips touched yours the first time, film was already rolling.”
“Did you also ask him for the cut between scenes,” you question as you adjust yourself in the chair, watching Bucky pass your robe to one of the crew members who passed him the bag and paddle in a tradeoff.
Bucky’s nodding in answer, as he draws in closer “wanted to make sure you were okay it being your first time and all I didn’t want to rush the scene with you.”
Like at the beginning Bucky’s kneeling before you bringing up the wooden paddle that he held in his right, “here, feel it out.”
You look from his ocean greys down to the wooden object in his hand, you reach out fingers running over the wood, before they’re reaching for the handle, lifting it from his hand.
When the scene starts up you’ll already be tied to the chair, I hope you don’t mind but I'd like to forego using the sack at all.”
Your eyes meet his, “is that okay,” he questions, “it’s only because I'd like to see your face, I want to make sure that you’re okay during the rest of this scene.”
Warmth floods your chest, your gaze never leaving his as you murmur your answer, “I trust you.”
Bucky takes the paddle back from you placing it at your feet as he tosses the sack to the side, his hand comes up to cup your cheek, “you ready,” he questions hands reaching for the rope.
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It’s a sight to see how quickly, how smoothly Bucky can step into the soldier, it had been a quick ‘rolling’ from Clint after Bucky had secured you to the chair when the transition occur right before you. No longer was it Bucky who stood before you paddle in hand, but the soldier.
“Aren’t you a pretty sight,” the soldier murmurs, “all tied up and bound pretty for sir.”
A shiver rolls through you as he steps closer, the paddle coming up with his hand, a grin pulls at his lips, “you alright there pretty girl, you look a little nervous.”
‘Yes sir,’ you find yourself saying.
“Are you sure,” he questions in an almost taunting tone, “because if you’re not you know exactly what you needed to do to avoid all this don’t you?”
Your swallowing a nod of your head as you answer, ‘yes sir.’
“See,” he murmurs as he steps closer fully closing any space between the two of you, “your such a good girl.”
The paddle meets your skin for the first time then as he sticks his arm out to run the cool wood over his handy work that kissed your skin.
Your breath catches in your throat as goosebumps rise along your skin as you wait.
“Could have continued to be a good girl you know,” he murmurs bringing the paddle further south, “could have let sir continue to eat that pretty little pussy of yours and have you come two more times on my tongue but no,” he pats the wood against your quivering abdomen.
“I suppose you didn’t want the pleasure,” another soft pat, “but maybe you’d like the pain.”
The paddle is now resting between your spread thighs, “would you like that baby,” the soldier hums, “like for sir to kiss your skin with this, make you cry real pretty for me while you choke on my cock.
It’s almost foreign to hear the hushed ‘yes sir’ fall from your lips then.
The soldier pushes the paddle into your skin, the wood spreading the folds of your pussy, “what was that,” he questions, “need you to speak up pretty girl.”
‘Yes sir,’ you speak louder, “want your cock.”
A smirk kisses the brunette's pink lips, “gonna have you crying so pretty for me, gonna be begging me to fuck you by the time I'm done with you.”
The paddle leaves your spread legs exposing you entirely to the camera as he works open the button of his jeans.
You can do nothing but watch as he draws the zipper down, pulling the material of his jeans down slightly to expose his cock to the room.
He smirks, “like what you see, like sirs cock, you want it in your mouth?”
You're nodding your head drawing a husky laugh from the man before you, “haven’t even fucked you and you’ve already gone stupid for this cock, can’t even answer me.”
The soldier draws closer to you hand weaving into your hair giving a harsh tug as he pulls your gaze to meet his, “open.”
It’s a word you had heard so often, it should have been instinct for your lips to part, but the second longer it took you to reply was enough for the wooden paddle to meet your thigh.
Your lips fall open a gasp falling through, at the initial hit, a part of you thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, “see now that’s a good girl,” he murmurs drawing you closer by your hair to his cock.  
“Part those lips a little more for me sweet girl, need all of me to fit in there,” another kiss of wood to skin has your lips parting further, this one stinging a little more than the last.
The soldier takes this as an opportunity to run the tip of his cock along your lower lip, his cock pressing your lip down further spreading your mouth for him.
“Such a pretty mouth,” he grunts, tightening the hold he has on your hair as he guides you down the length of his shaft. He pushes you down till your lips are spread out at the base, your nose pressed up against his pelvis.
“Fuck,” he grunts, “you always take me down so good sweetheart, could fuck your pretty mouth just like this, keep you right where you are till your begging for air, mmm but I don’t think I'd let you up this time.”
Another kiss from the wooden paddle meets your skin but this time on your outer thigh. The action has you gagging on his cock as you try to move away from the object entirely.
‘ah, ah, ah, sweet girl, stay still for me, it’s sir’s turn.”
Drool dribbled from your parted lips as he guides your head, his cock fucking steadily into the wet warmth of your mouth, like that of the paddle meeting your skin, “mmm just like that, fuck you take me so good, so fucking good for me,” he grunts.
You groan around his length as he guides your mouth up and down the length of his shaft, letting yourself focus in on the sinful grunts that leave his lips and not the sting the paddle leaves behind on your now raw skin. His fingers twist further in your hair as he tugs you off his cock his gaze drawn to your swollen spit slicked lips.
The paddle has left your side and now kisses your cheek, “you cry so pretty for me baby,” he breathes the wood kissing the skin under your eye where your mascara has run and smeared.
“So good for me, you took my cock so well, do you want more?”
You’re shaking your head, not wanting to feel the cold wood any longer, “fuck me,” you rasp, “please fuck me.”
His gaze darkens, “you want to be fucked,” he questions, “want me to fuck you stupid?”
You don’t hesitate, “yes sir please fuck me, want to cum all over your cock sir please.”
The soldiers hand falls away from your hair to reach behind you, the rope that binds you to the chair goes tight for a second against your skin before it becomes loose, the material falling from the tight confines as he pulls at it.
He tugs at it roughly till it falls to your feet entirely, his hands then reaching for you as he pulls you to your feet.
The soldier takes the spot you once occupied on the chair, bringing you along with him as he helps you straddle his strong thighs. The paddle rests against your back, as you brace yourself against him, your hands holding yourself steady on his shoulders as he takes a hold of his cock to run it through your folds.  
With his hands guiding your hips, he lowers you slowly till he’s buried to the hilt in your warm, wet, heat.
Your head falls back, body curving with pleasure, as you feel him fill you entirely, “fuck,” he grunts, his head pressing to your chest, “so fucking wet, feel so good around my cock sweet girl.”
“Please,” you whine “please -” he hushes you by capturing your lips with his, the paddle sliding down to meet your exposed backside as he draws you closer to his body.
He gives a quick thrust of his hip, fucking into you sweetly, a moan catches in your throat, “fuck” you moan, “just like that sir, fuck me please,” you gasp, fingers digging into the skin of his back.
“You like that,” he grunts rutting up into you, “like when I fuck you like this,” he hums, “ is this what you wanted, wanted me to fuck you like this?”
“Yes sir, love when you fuck me like this wanna cum all over your cock like this!”
The soldiers chuckling huskily as his hold on you tightens, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he draws you two closer to the edge.
“Did so good for me sweet girl, you let sir take exactly what he wanted from you today, you willing to give me one more thing,” he hums.
You can’t seem to form any other coherent thing other than ‘yes sir,’ as you bounce on his cock, your end eminent.
“Need you to cum for me, want you to cum all over my cock baby wanna see you cum all over my cock.”
“God yes, yes, yes,” you whine, “let me cum all over your cock sir please.”
You can feel the crew move behind you as they go in for the awaited money shot, but their presence is lost to you as you let yourself et lost in the way the soldier sweeps his thumb over your clit to push you over the edge.  
His name falls from your lips in a breathy prayer, as your vision goes white. Your back arches, head tilting back as waves of pleasure wash over you.  
The soldier continues to fuck up into you, harsh breaths falling from his lips dragging out your orgasm as his takes over, your name tumbling sweetly from his lips as he holds you close to him, his head buried into your shoulder as the wooden paddle clatters to the floor.
You whine low in your throat when his hands guide you up yet keep you just as close as he lets his cock, along with his cum spill from you.
There’s a low whistle from behind you as clint likely zooms in for his shot, “and that is a wrap,” he calls a second later.
At those words, you let yourself slowly fall back into Bucky's lap, your legs trembling as you let the aftershocks ride through you, his cum still dripping from your sopping entrance.
“You good starlet,” you hear clint call.
You lift your hand into the air, your thumb raised high, “how about you Barnes, you alive there!”
Bucky lifts his head from your shoulder, “all good here Barton, not sure how Tony’s going to be after watching this though!”
“The power of editing,” Clint calls back, “you two gonna hit the showers?”
“Soon as we can feel our legs,” Bucky calls back drawing a lazy chuckle from you.
You curl your arms around his shoulders a little tighter, resting your head a little further into him, as you ride out the last aftershocks.
There’s a beat of silence before you’re speaking up, “you think we’ll get the numbers?”
“Clint will make sure that we do, like he said power of editing,” Bucky answers, “but, numbers or not, all that matters was that your first time experiencing something, will bring you back for a second.”
You lean back at his words, your eyes meeting his, fingers absentmindedly finding the ends of his hair, “as long as it’s with you I think I'll always come back for more.”
Your heart steadily begins to race in your chest at the way Bucky looks back at you, and for a second your worried you may have said something else than what you’re sure you had actually spoken.
You find yourself stilling further as his hand comes up to your cheek, thumb caressing your skin before he’s leaning in unexpectedly, unscripted to press his lips to yours.
WorldofAUs Forever Tag-list: @cap-n-stuff-main @bucky-cinnamonroll-barnes @kseniiafirebrace @sideeffectsofyou @pinknerdpanda @thefridgeismybestie @b0nkybarnes @oliviastan17 @fandom-basurero @lookiamtrying @baddie-barnes @fortyninegal @peacelovehobbitness @noeaerialist @the-cry-of-youth @liebs82  @jbarness @morganclaire4 @runaway-escape @melimelbean @coffeebooksandfandom @rebekahdawkins @thinkaboutmara @im-squished @angstysebfan  @strangersstranger @stuckyslutt @courtneychicken @tonystankschild @fallenoutofrose @jasminepaz @nnuree @ene-rene @mollygetssherlockcoffee @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @doozywoozy @buchanansebba @purselover2 @connie326 @bestofbucky @white-wolf1940 @stopjustlovethemcu @stuckysavedmylive @sarcasmoverlordxo @avantgardium-leviosa @wittysunflower @muralskins @snakeeater17 @moonlitskinandcrimsonribbons @some0nereally @sumtimesitbelikedat @gudenuph @zareen165 @dancer3205 @gemstone-roses @buchanansebba @moshymosh @cachemonet @deepmuffinspymaker @buckybarneshairpullingkink @supernaturalbaesduh @vivalakatee @cuddlycalcifer @jxlystan @hallecarey1 @malum-af-cth​ @bubblespeare
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sergeantxrogers · 14 days ago
| sanctified |
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Summary: Bucky Barnes’ holy grail and safe haven are your body and soul, and after getting a taste of them, he finally knows what it means to be a sinner. 
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: Smut!! (switch!Bucky, choking, light spanking, orgasm control, slight exhibitionism), some crying, confessions of love baby
Bucky Barnes never had a serious girlfriend. Sure, there were girls he’d go out with, press a little smooch to their lips just out of principle, girls he’d walk home after a trip to the fair, girls that would follow him around Brooklyn watching his every move in the hopes that they would catch his eye and that he would give them more than just a polite smile. 
Bucky Barnes used to be a ladies’ man, girls batting their lashes at him when he and Steve passed by on their way to Bucky’s place for dinner, throwing themselves at his feet any chance they’d get because they wanted to be something special to him, they wanted to mean something to him, and Bucky always rejected anything serious with grace. 
And then he fell from the train. And he hadn’t seen a girl his age for almost 50 years after that. He had forgotten what it was like to be smiled at, to be searched for in a crowd, for someone to call out his name - his real name, not Soldat. 
He had gotten used to the harsh orders and cruel insults, the flirty, boyish Bucky that winked at the ladies and guided them during dances hidden and stashed away somewhere deep inside him, dormant and asleep. He was fine with being ignored after everything that happened with Steve, and the fall of HYDRA, and Shuri “fixing” his brain. Fine with staying in the shadows when he didn’t need to be out of them, fine with avoiding people and missing their eye, slipping through the streets of New York like a cat, his only goal to get from point A to point B.
Until he met you. 
You, the part-time waitress that worked at the restaurant he frequented with Mr. Nakajima. Bucky took a liking to you the second he saw you. The do no harm, take no shit attitude that every fiber of your being seemed to be dipped in intrigued him. He liked watching you work, multitasking between orders and receipts and drinks and money and all things in between. It was fascinating to him, especially the side-eyed glances you’d give him with an accompanying little smirk whenever he sat down at the counter with his older friend. Intriguing you were, so much so that he quickly learned what days you came in, and what days you didn’t: Monday, Wednesday and Friday. 
Yori kept pushing him to ask out the “pretty waitress” at the restaurant, and though she was pretty, she wasn’t the one he had his eye on. 
“You should go out with her, she’s a nice girl,” Yori’s soft voice would mutter into his ear, and Bucky would give him a smile and a shake of his head.
If only you knew, Yori. If only you knew, he thought. 
The flirting started simple enough: a sly smile as you greeted him when he walked in. An “accidental” brush of the hand when you’d hand him his third beer. Biting your lip whenever he called your name out to pay. It was simple enough that Bucky’s elderly friend stayed oblivious on the Wednesdays they’d go out for lunch together. 
And truly, Bucky had no reason to come to the restaurant three times a week, twice without the company of Mr. Nakajima. No reason but the sight of you, and it was enough to keep him drawn in, keep him coming and throwing his money on food he never ate and beers he downed without a second thought because he was so enamored by the way your eyes glimmered whenever you gave him a smile. 
Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays went by and by until he started dropping his gaze below your neck, pants growing uncomfortably tight at the way you’d bend over to get a new roll of receipts under the counter, or the small sliver of stomach he would notice beneath your shirt whenever you’d reach up for a glass. 
And it wasn’t like you were oblivious either; on the contrary, you stared at the door on the days you knew he’d come in, waiting anxiously for him to come and sit down just so you could feel his presence. It wasn’t that long before you were asking your coworkers to cover you for a few minutes just so you could lean against the counter by him to chat (and give him a peak of something special, but that was besides the point). 
Chats soon turned into jokes and full-blown conversations, with Bucky staying behind long after closing time just to talk to you about anything and everything, from his past to the way you wore your hair on that particular day. 
Which is how you found yourself in your current little predicament. 
“Fuck, Bucky,” you hissed, slapping your hand against the counter beneath you. 
Bucky’s hand travelled up your back, entangling in your hair and pulling your head back, your back arching against him. 
“What happened, baby?” he cooed into your ear, thrusts relentless and never faltering. You whined in response, swallowing back a heavy breath as his lips trailed against your shoulder.
“So... so good,” you managed, and you felt him smirk against your skin. 
His hand left your hair, snaking around to the front to wrap around your neck loosely, and a chill ran down your spine. 
11:47 p.m. and an hour and a half past closing time, shades only half shut on the glass door of the entrance, the only light in the room coming from the streetlight outside and the digital clock on the wall behind you. 
Heavy lidded eyes traveled to watch the door, only a few feet away from where Bucky was pounding persistently into you, your skirt flipped up and panties around your ankles. The fact that anybody walking by would just have to look through the blinds to see you getting railed made you breathless.
Bucky’s low hum floated into your ears, hot breath fanning against your cheek as he rolled his hips to hit that spot that made you clench around him. 
“I’m- I’m gonna-”
Your stuttering made him slow his hips, and in return you whimpered.
“Gonna what? Gonna cum? Hm?”
You huffed at his condescending tone, and he slowed down even more, to the point where you could feel him dragging along your walls, hot and heavy. 
“What if I just-”
Bucky stopped moving his hips completely, and tears pricked at the back of your eyes as your chest heaved, his grip tightening only slightly around your throat.
“- don’t let you?” he finished, pulling out almost completely then, and you groaned in frustration. You felt the knot that had been forming in your stomach loosen, the tingling in your legs fading, and you furrowed your brows in a desperate plea for release.
“P-please,” you mewled. “Please, please, I need to, I have to-”
Bucky seemed to be satisfied with your begging, because he thrusted himself into you again, bottoming out with the slap of skin on skin and your quiet, breathy moans being the only sounds in the restaurant. Each thrust brought out a moan from your lips, a layer of sweat covering your skin. The first tear left your waterline and rolled down your cheek as he pressed down harder against you, the edge of the counter digging into your hip bones deliciously. 
“More,” you whispered, eyes clenched shut as your head went dizzy with pleasure. 
Bucky obliged, nipping at your neck as his hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat travelled downwards to lay a slap to your ass, and you hissed at the sting. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, eyes rolling to the back of your head and legs going weak. If it wasn’t for Bucky’s body holding you upright against the counter, you were certain you would’ve collapsed. Warmth took over your belly as Bucky groaned in your ear, cumming inside you, and he let go of your neck, allowing you to drop your head down in an attempt to catch your breath. 
After he had pulled out of you carefully, helping you pull your panties back up, you turned around, a lazy smile on your lips as you leaned back against the counter on your elbows. Bucky gave you a skeptical look, smirk crawling onto his face as he narrowed his eyes at you.
“What is it?”
You shrugged, tugging at the hem of his shirt to straighten it out a bit. 
“Nothing,” you said mindlessly, smile only growing larger.
He chuckled in amusement, grabbing your hand in his. 
“What is it?”, he repeated, and you sighed dramatically.
“Well, I mean...,” you started, eyes travelling around behind him in false apprehension. “I hope you know this means you gotta take me out now, Barnes.”
Bucky stared at you for a moment, the grin on his face only brightening. 
“Alright, I promise I will.”
And Bucky kept his promise. 
Five days after your initial hook-up, Bucky came buzzing at your apartment building entrance, bouquet of flowers in his hands, smile on his face. 
“Wow, Barnes, I didn’t know you were into romantic gestures,” you teased, taking the flowers from his hands. He shrugged, shoving them into his pockets as he walked alongside you. 
“I wasn’t. Not really, never used to be.”
He glanced at you as he finished his sentence, but you were too preoccupied with the smell of fresh blossoms to notice the smile playing on his lips. 
“Things change, I guess,” he muttered, and you grinned at him. 
“So, where are we going?”
“I told you already,” he said with a teasing shake of his head. 
“It’s a surprise.”
Three official dates later and Bucky finally came up to your apartment. 
Albeit, a bit hesitant, because it was well past midnight and “I don’t wanna wake up your neighbors with my huge footsteps, doll.”
It took some convincing but he finally agreed to come up and sit with you a while. You said you would show him your favorite books, introduce him to some new literature he could catch up on. And you definitely planned on doing that, but things with Bucky have a funny way of playing out differently than you expect. 
“Jesus fucking Christ, doll-”
Humming in amusement, you smiled down at him, straddled around his thighs.
Your fingers gripping his hair, you held his head so his eyes were level with yours, and you saw the struggle in them as your other hand teased his cock through his boxers with gentle fingers. 
“What is it, baby?” you pouted, tugging harder on his hair, and he winced at the feeling. 
“Stop teasing,” he hissed through clenched teeth, and you feigned a disappointed frown. 
“Now that’s not very nice of you.”
Bucky shut his eyes quickly in a split second of frustration, and when he opened them again, you noticed his pupils were blown wide, staring into yours.
After a deep sigh, his demeanor changed, lids heavy and lips swollen from the bites and kisses you attacked them with previously. 
“Please...,” he said in a whisper. “Please don’t tease me.”
His words brought a smile to your face, and you pretended to think about it, tilting your head to the side slightly. 
“Alright, pretty boy, since you asked so nicely.”
You punctuated your sentence with a roll of your hips against his, and a soft whimper left his lips when your bare pussy rolled over his dick. 
Your fingers found the hem of his boxers, and you pulled them down, teasingly slow, Bucky lifting his hips a bit to make it easier for you. He breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling of release, and you felt your breath quicken at the sight of his cock, heavy and hard and begging to be touched. 
It came out quietly, desperately, as he stared into your eyes, and you almost smirked at the way he looked near tears. You hummed in adoration, leaning your head down somewhat to press a kiss to his lips. 
“So needy...,” you muttered into his mouth as you rolled your hips upwards, the tip of his cock gliding through your wet slit, and his hips bucked up involuntarily. 
He whined against your lips, nipping at the bottom one when you sank down onto his cock without warning. A sigh left your body when you felt him stretch you out, filling you out completely. You clenched around him, trying to adjust, and he groaned, forehead dropping against your chest. 
No matter how many times he’d been inside you, you always need time to adjust, and you would wait. Oh, you would wait hours if you needed to, because once you got a taste of him, that was it. You were ruined for other men. 
And Bucky could spend hours inside you, warm and wet and perfectly made for him, your body wrapped around his. All you had to do was ask him, and he would fall to his knees in worship. 
You sat on him, just like that, for... seconds? Minutes? An hour, maybe? Bucky couldn’t tell because it didn’t really matter to him. His mind was clouded with the feeling of you tight around his throbbing cock, and your lips on his neck and jaw, and your fingers in his hair. 
Bucky looked up at you, almost glowing with sex and gratification, and he swore to himself he would pray to you, pray for you, pray with you, every single day for the rest of his life. How he went a century without the absolution of your touch was entirely beyond him, but he knew he wouldn’t let you go now that he had you in his grasp. 
You started moving, slowly, teasingly, and Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. Sighs and pants left your lips at the feeling of being full, stuffed to the brim, and it took everything Bucky had in himself not to grab your hips and absolutely destroy you himself. 
“Oh, God,” you panted into his ear, rolling your hips, chasing your pleasure as Bucky’s chest heaved with labored breaths. 
It was pure torture, in the best way. His eyes watched the way your brows furrowed slightly in concentration, your lips slightly parted. Watched your hands search for purchase on his body, anywhere they could find, as you clenched tighter around him. 
If there was a place he had to choose to stay for the rest of eternity, it was here. 
“I love you,” he mumbled, almost subconsciously, and your movements faltered only slightly. 
Biting your lip, your eyes searched his face, and found only honesty. Bucky’s hands came up to rest on your thighs, fingers digging into them, the contrast of one warm hand and one cold hand sending shockwaves down your spine. 
“I love you more,” you whispered, pulling him in by his cheeks for a short kiss. 
Your pushes and pulls, ups and downs, gasps and moans grew quicker, more incessant, and Bucky could tell by the way your walls fluttered quickly around his cock that you were about to cum. 
He laid there, next to you. 
He laid there a long time, fingers tracing shapeless patters along your arm as you slept, and his eyes studied your face.
No, Bucky Barnes never had a serious girlfriend. There were girls he’d go out with, girls he would smooch. Girls he would walk home and girls he would smile at. None of them ever gave him the feeling he was running after, always thinking it was right there but always just out of reach. The feeling you gave him, like he was underwater but could still breathe. Like he was on fire but cold as ice, like he never breathed properly before he met you and now, after getting a taste of you, he would never be able to breathe properly without you again. 
He laid there, body heavy and mind satisfied, and he understood. He understood why Adam ate the apple, why Orpheus turned around. He understood why Sparta started a war for Helen, and he understood why Romeo drank the poison. 
He would do it all, sin and be punished a million times over if it meant he would get a glimpse of you every day. 
@dreamsley​ @a-ngeli-que​ @mindyoshiii​ @agirlinherhead​ @s-katergorl​ @ace-27749​ @leyannrae​ @tailsoflightning​ 
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starlordsandrockets · 5 days ago
The Storm
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pairing: enemies to lovers - college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+
Word Count: 8k
summary: Peter Parker was the last person you wanted to be partnered with for your class presentation. Now you were forced to spend the day with him but your loathing soon turns into something quite different when the day is over.
a/n: thank you for the request! i went a little overboard with how long this rq is lol but i hope you enjoy it!! [ask is posted below]
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You placed your half empty coffee down on the lecture hall’s small table. Studying the notes you had just taken on some of the local pieces at the Metropolitan Museum, you waited for your professor to announce the partners for your first presentation of the fall semester. Your class was small, being filled with mostly students of your art history major. There were a few stray art students taking the class for either an elective or just out of pure love and interest. And then there was Peter Parker.
The biochemist sat in the first row, the back of his brunette head always in your peripheral view. You saw every time his hand shot up, always aiming to be the first to answer almost anything your professor asked and you hated him for it. You were not competitive, or you were not until you met Peter. You hated the idea of being bested by someone outside of your major and especially someone outside of the arts.
You were fine getting paired with anyone. Literally anyone besides Peter Parker. Your professor began to list off names, her voice drowning out as you stared at the back of Peter’s stupid head. Each student around you grew further and further from your grasp until your name left your professor’s lips, snapping you back to reality, “Y/N Y/L/N, Peter Parker,” and suddenly you were no longer in your own reality but in Hell. You watched as Peter extended his arm, the fabric of his rolled flannel pushing up his bicep. Turning his head, his brown eyes met yours, a small smile sat on his lips.
“I was thinking ‘The Storm’,” Peter said. Your eyes blankly stared back at him, “by Cot,” He told the professor, his eyes still fixed on you.
“‘The Storm’,” She repeated as she wrote your group’s piece down in a small notebook that sat in her hand, “Okay,” Her voice drew out as she collected her thoughts, “I’m going to send out an email in a week or two to pick presentation dates, that should give you all time to visit the piece before the email is sent out,” You were barely listening to your professor’s instructions, mentally swearing to yourself in a endless cycle. You wondered who or what cursed you to be paired with the last person on campus you ever wanted to work with.
At some point your gaze dropped to your notebook as you retracted into your thoughts, unaware that your classmates began to file out of the lecture hall, “Hey,” You heard a voice call out, making you jump. Knocking your elbow on the seat’s small table it began to shake.
“Shit,” You spoke, not only from the pain of the collision but as you watched your coffee begin to fall towards your notes. Suddenly, a hand reached out, catching your coffee almost on super human instinct. Looking up, you watched as Peter shovered the to go up in your hand, “Okay,” You questioned, annoyed, “thanks, I guess,”
“I was coming over to ask you what day works best for you to head to the Met,” Peter spoke, his eyes glued on you, “but you were like, zoned out,” he informed you as you studied him. His backpack was thrown over his shoulder, his strong hands held onto the strap, “Can’t believe I’m your partner or something,”
“Something like that,” You mocked, beginning to pack your bag, “and I don’t know. I have my studio classes,” You told him, answering his previous question, “So I’ll let you know,”
“Right,” He spoke, watching you aggressively stuffing your bag, “so, what’s your number,” His question made your movements freeze, eyes fixed on the thrown around notebooks.
“My-my number,” You stuttered, however it came out in between small laugher, “you want my number,”
“What, are you not used to guys asking for your number,” Peter asked, his tone making his query worse than it already was. He watched as you closed your bag before rising to your feet.
“Bye Peter,” You spoke as you attempted to escape, however you realized Peter was blocking your only way out of the aisle of seats, “let me out,”
“Not until I get your number,” Peter told you, his hand reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, “Just to figure out a date for the Met,”
“It’s not a date,” You spoke quickly, not processing Peter’s words fully. You watched as the small smile that sat on Peter’s lips grew.
“Never said it was,” Peter spoke, watching your gaze drop. He studied you as you became increasingly flustered in front of him, “but,”
“No,” You interrupted him, “It’s bad enough you’re my partner,” You spat out, your words growing more quiet as you watched his hands grip his strap.
Peter stepped aside, allowing you to slip past him. He barely left you any room to escape as you felt your skin brush against the fabric of his flannel, “I’m expecting an answer,” Peter called out as you made your way down the stairs, “make it easier on yourself and just give me your number,”
“No thanks, Parker,” You answered, eyes fixed on the door that stretched down the narrow hallway. You were so close to salvation, the rest of your days filled with studio classes. You would be able to spend hours downing out your angry Peter thoughts, focusing on starting the new piece your painting professor assigned.
Reaching the door, you pushed it open. You did not dare to look Peter’s way, knowing that he stood at the end of the hallway, waiting for you to change your mind and give into him. Little did Peter know, you would go out of your way to do the exact opposite of whatever was on his mind.
You spun your dirty brushes in the mason jar that sat in your hand as you waited for the girl ahead of you to clean her brushes. Beginning to get irritated at just how long she was taking you turned your head, allowing your eyes to wander. A few girls stood by the studio’s large bay windows, giggles spilling past their lips as they all focused on something outside. Rolling your eyes, your curiosity got the best of you as your gaze fell to the towering glass, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” You swallowed your words as your eyes found Peter on a nearby ledge. A book sat in his hands as he not so subtly glanced towards the group of easels that sat over in the right side of the studio. You wondered how long he had been there. You had been listening to music, probably drowning out the whispers of the other female students in the studio.
You would not deny that Peter was attractive. If your fingers were to end up in the brown locks that sat on the back of his head you would not hate that idea. You found yourself staring at the back of his head one too many times during your lectures. You always mentally cursed him for beating you to an answer, but once the curses faded you were left with nothing but a primal sense of attraction to Peter. If Peter were to keep his mouth shut you would not hate yourself for finding yourself captivated with him, however, Peter was a smartass. Part of you wondered if he knew just how much him besting you got under your skin and if he sometimes did it on purpose. He was cocky and unlike you did not try and hide just how smart he truly is.
At some point you had surfaced from your thoughts, realizing you had been aggressively washing your brushes and that they were probably begging you to stop. Thankfully, no one was behind you as you turned the handles on the old, industrial sink. Looking back out of the large windows you found the same girls. At some point they had migrated outside of the art building and had approached Peter who sat a few yards away.
Rushing to your bag, you collected your things, hoping Peter would be distracted by the girls to even realize you had passed. You were not so lucky. As you walked up the stairs that lead from the building’s low first floor, Peter’s eyes locked onto you. You watched as the girls around him continued the pointless conversations that he once was encouraging, but now Peter ignored them, his eyes following you. Ducking your head, you focused on the ground as you made your way up the short set of concrete stairs and onto the path that lead towards the dining hall.
You heard as the group of girls let out protests as you heard footsteps rushing after you, “Think of a date yet, Y/N,” Peter’s voice trailed behind you as he attempted to match your quick pace.
“Since you asked me, three hours ago? No,” You answered, not meeting his eyes as he walked next to you, “I told you, I’d let you know,”
“By finding me on campus,” He questioned, “that’s so inconvenient,” Peter groaned. His eyes searched your face, seeing visual annoyance furrow your brow, “Come onnn, Y/N, just-“
“No,” You spoke, “I don’t need you blowing up my phone,” You hated yourself for picking a college with such a large campus, meaning you were stuck with Peter for a decent walk to the dining hall.
“Why do you think I’d even text you,” Peter teased. You could hear it in his tone, his claim was not meant as an insult; he just enjoyed seeing you frustrated.
“Because you clearly haven’t left me alone since class,” You told him, picking up your pace as you crossed a parking lot. Peter did not respond, he only smiled at you whenever you shot him a quick glance. Peter followed behind you silently as you entered the dining hall and climbed the large set of stairs. Scanning your ID, you heard Peter do the same, “Are you stalking me now,” You questioned.
“Just grabbing dinner,” Peter spoke, “I was getting hungry waiting for you to get out of your long ass class,”
“It’s a studio class,” You informed, “They’re like two hours long,” A warm plate found its way into your hands as you completed your tasks aimlessly talking to Peter, “don’t you have labs that long,”
“Yeah and they’re boring as hell,” He spoke, reaching over you he began to fill his plate with the food that you were studying, “I finish in the first twenty minutes,” Peter heard you laugh under your breath at his words, “I know you’re smart, I thought you’d feel the same way,”
“If I did, I don’t go around telling everyone,” You spoke, “and I also don’t rush to answer every single question in class before everyone else,” You muttered.
“So it does bother you,” Peter laughed, following you at your heels as you made your way to find a table in the large room. His voice grew louder to speak over the roaring campus, “It really bothers you, huh,”
“Huh, it almost sounds like you want it to,” You ridiculed, “I mean, I wouldn’t put it past you,” Sinking into your chair you placed your plate down, pulling your bag off of your body. Watching as Peter placed a hand on the chair next to you, you quickly tossed your bag on the empty seat, “Don’t even think about it,”
“And you’d rather eat alone,” Peter asked, “Like every other day you sulk up here by yourself,” He spoke. He knew how it made him sound, almost confirming your stalking claim from earlier. But he had noticed you eating alone for a while now, wondering as to why no one bothered to ever sit with you.
You did not reply to Peter as you felt your face heat up not only from anger, but from embarrassment, “It’s not like I choose to,” You mumbled as you began to stab whatever sat on your plate, taking your anger on something, anything. However, you wished you could take it out on Peter and not the overly steamed carrots that contrasted off of the white porcelain that had always kept you company when no one else would. 
You wanted to be left alone, wanting Peter to take his harmful comments and to go sit with his abundance of friends. You could not wait for this presentation to be over with and you surely were going to pick the first presentation date available. Then, you would never speak to Peter ever again, “Are you free to go to the Met,”
Peter had not touched the food on his plate, having been studying you as you retracted into your hateful thoughts, “Right now,” He laughed, his words ringing with a questioning tone.
“I have a feeling you won’t leave me alone until I give you an answer,” You played along, biting the inside of your cheek, “so let’s go tonight, around 6. That gives us a few hours,”
“You’re not dying to spend the day with me,” Peter pestered, “You’re cutting me off at three hours,”
“It’s that or nothing,” You argued, “We could just go by ourselves and pray that our presentation doesn’t suck,”
“Fine,” Peter spoke with a smile, “I’ll see you at 6,”
You were definitely going insane. You found yourself putting extra time into your makeup, which is not something new. You loved going to the museum so you wanted to dress up a little. You did not wear extremely nice clothes on your studio days since you were a bit clumsy and did not want to ruin any of your clothes so you mostly dressed up whenever you found the opportunity. However, you found yourself wondering how Peter would respond to certain outfits. You lived a few blocks away from the Met so you were not stressed on being late, but you were starting to run out of time due to your indecisiveness. 
You settled on a monochrome look, nothing fancy, yet still made you look well put together. Turning your head, you looked out of your apartment’s window seeing rain beginning to fall. You groaned, you had nothing against the rain, you actually loved it, but you just hoped that Peter would not cancel on you. You obviously had no way of contacting him and prayed that the rain would not stop him. Grabbing an umbrella, you made your way to the Met.
Peter was about fifteen minutes early. He was not complaining as it allowed the rain to dry off his hair and clothes. Peter was lucky enough to miss most of the rain as he rode the bus from campus but he had to run a block in the rain. His bag sat over his shoulder, carrying his suit, over a black sweater. Peter had thrown a sweater over his flannel, dressing up a little for you. Although, he would never admit that.
“Didn’t think to bring an umbrella,” Peter heard your question, drawing him out of his thoughts of you. The pointed toes of your black boots was the first thing to catch his eyes before you closed your umbrella, allowing his gaze to take you in.
Your y/h/c hair was pulled back into a low bun. A black cardigan sat over an equally dark turtleneck that was tucked into a pair of straight legged black pants, “Where’s the funeral,” Peter questioned, a silver necklace sat around your neck. Not thinking twice, Peter reached out, taking the small necklace between his fingers, studying what sat on the chain.
“It’s my own,” You muttered, feeling your heart skip a beat at the close contact. Mentally you had slapped Peter’s hand away, but in this twisted reality you only found yourself staring up at him.
“You really don’t want to be here, huh,” Peter laughed, reaching for his wallet as you started towards the door, physically attempting to outrun your thoughts about him.
“I do,” You spoke, holding the door for him, “just not with you,” You admitted, your gaze finding his warm brown eyes.
“Ouch,” Peter mocked, placing a hand over his chest, “You make it too easy, Y/N,” He smiled slyly behind you, even though you could not see it, you knew it was there.
You both pulled out your student IDs, showing the woman behind the desk, “Two tickets,” She questioned, assuming that the two of you would be paying together which made you stiffen. Seeing this, Peter laughed to himself.
“Yes, please,” Peter spoke, taking out his card. Turning your head, you shot him an angered glance. You did not want to make a scene in front of this poor woman and Peter was about to take full advantage of that, “You can pay me back later, sweetheart,” Peter spoke, watching you freeze.
The woman smiled at the two of you, taking Peter’s card from his grasp. With his hand now free, he pushed you to your limit by placing his hand on the small of your back, “Your funeral,” You muttered to him.
“What was that sweetie,” Peter mocked, leaning in to hear your soft voice.
“I’m dressed for your funeral,” You informed him.
The Met’s paper map sat angrily in your sweaty grasp. Peter’s actions still ran through you, pure anger coursing through your veins, and as much as you hated to admit, along with desire. Something about his touch was warming and you craved it.
“Slow down,” Peter called out behind you as your pace came to a halt, the sound of your short heels no longer bouncing off the large walls, “You’re going to leave me for dead if I lose you and that map,”
“That’s the plan,” You spoke with a fake smile, “Remember, your funeral,”
“Your funeral,” Peter spoke along side you, “Yeah you’re funny,” He chuckled, his claim teased you but there was truth to his words. Even if that truth sat deep and buried behind his need to endlessly annoy you.
“The piece is in the next room,” You informed, “I was thinking about focusing on the progression of their relationship since Cot seems to reference them in his other pieces,” You voiced your opinion, eyes watching Peter study you as you walked.
“Mhm,” Peter hummed, eyes glued to you as you folded the map carefully. Reaching out, his large hand sat in front of you, “I can put that in my pocket,” He offered. His generous action made you tilt your head, wondering what he was up to.
“Okay,” You questioned, handing him the folded paper. You watched as his finger sat against the colored sheet, his hand painfully close to your own. Why did you want his fingertips to brush your own, like in those cheesy movies and novels? What was wrong with you?
Peter smiled as he studied you, only guessing that his actions had spiraled a stream of thoughts that were now occupying your mind. Stepping into the next room, he left you behind, eyes scanning the walls for Cot’s piece. Finding it, he made his way towards it. The piece was much more breathtaking than he thought it would be, the colors dark yet, somehow romantic. It reminded him of you for some reason, “I read about how the chemistry between the subjects in his earlier piece lead to the success of this one,” Peter spoke as he heard you approach him from behind, “and I thought that was pretty stupid,” He heard you let out an annoyed laugh, “but I weirdly get it now,”
“They’ve very symbiotic,” You spoke, “One looks as if they couldn’t exist without the other,” You laughed again, “it’s extremely romantic and comforting and annoying,” You rambled. Noticing Peter smirking at you out of the corner of your eye you began to read the description that sat in front of you on the wall, “Caught in the midst of a sudden autumn storm, a young couple rushes to find shelter, temporarily shielding themselves from the imminent onrush with a deep mustard-toned fabric with a dramatic reflective sheen quite possibly deriving from the light of the moon. The leaves on the plants by their feet are browning, which confirms the season for their flight. The makeshift fabric umbrella-” Your voice was cut off by a loud clap of thunder, catching you off guard, making you jump.
The gallery lights flickered as Peter stood completely still. He searched his surroundings, trying to identify if the noise was from the storm or a threat, “Attention Met guests, due to a severe storm approaching the museum will be closing in five minutes. We apologize for the inconvenience and ask you to make your way towards our front doors. Please make sure to collect your belongings and find a safe way home,”
“Great,” You laugh, “Well I guess we can do the rest of our research online because I’m not rescheduling,” Your brow furrowed at the thought of having to spend another day out with Peter and his cocky attitude.
“Fine,” Peter spoke as the two of you made your way to the front doors, “You can rent us a study room in the library,”
“I don’t think so,” You answer quickly, making Peter smile, “the best I can offer is sending you a link for Google Slides, maybe even Docs,”
“You’re so generous,” Peter spoke, “How did I get so lucky,” Thunder rolled through, shaking the floor. He could not tell if you shot back a sarcastic remark, the storm getting closer and closer, “We’re going to have to find some place to stay until this passes,”
“No, you’re going to,” You laughed, “I’m going to my apartment, it’s only a few blocks,” You pressed your lips into a tight line, mentally eating your words knowing what Peter was about to say.
“You’re really going to leave me on the streets,” Peter questioned with a fake pout, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. Both of you studied the heavy rain through the glass doors.
“Like an abandoned puppy,” You admit, opening the heavy door, “Bye,” You spoke, opening your umbrella. Walking quickly, you attempted to put some distance between you and Peter. You did not really want to leave him behind, but you knew you would regret it more if you were stuck in your tiny apartment with him.
The wind kicked up, sweeping under your umbrella as you struggled to keep hold of the handle. Suddenly you felt Peter’s hands wrap around your whitening knuckles, helping you stabilize your rouge shelter, “You owe me,” Peter spoke, his arm wrapped around you as you both held onto the umbrella, “I paid for your ticket, the least you could do not leave me out in a serve storm,”
“The student discount was like $12,” You spoke, “I’d rather just give you the money,” Your claim was lost in a roll of thunder as the two of you began to pick up your pace, the wind and rain growing more extreme. With a sly smile, Peter began to run with you captured in his hold, “Peter-“
“I’m doing research,” He spoke, “Just like the painting,” Peter joked as the two of you ran from a storm in his grasp, “very symbiotic,” He mocked, “romantic, comforting,”
“Annoying,” You interrupted him, making him laugh, “My apartment is that building,” You informed, stumbling in an attempt to not get run over by Peter’s long strides, “a few doors down,”
Stopping at an old brick apartment building, you dug through your purse for your keys as Peter held the umbrella over your head. You felt as the rain began to hit your arms, no longer under the umbrella's shelter. Reaching out behind you, your fingertips fell under the fabric of Peter’s sweater, pulling him closer to you. Meeting his eyes, you slowly processed the forwardness of your advancement.
Peter stared down at you as you fumbled to unlock the old door, “What was that,” He teased.
“My bag was getting wet,” You spat back as you swung open the heavy door, “this is leather,” You told him, showing him your decently expensive bag, “You can give me the umbrella back in class,”
“You’re serious,” Peter laughed, “you’re leaving me for dead,” He attempted to step into the building but your small hands landed on his chest. He watched as a subtle blush crossed your skin at the contact, “I’m coming in,” He told you, feeling as you attempted to push him out, but you were not strong enough.
Grabbing the umbrella from his hands, you closed it, shaking the water off before closing the door, “Fifth floor, asshole,”
“Ouch, sweetheart,” Peter responded with a smile.
Your laptop sat on your crossed legs. You sat on your bed as Peter was, for some reason, in your shower. Both of your clothes were soaked even with the umbrella, however you denied Peter’s chaotic and forward offer to shower with him, changing into a pair of leggings and a plain white shirt. You tossed your damp hair up into a messy bun as you reached the piece that you barely had time to study at the Met.
Lost in research, you did not hear the water stop running, you only saw Peter standing before you in his underwear, a towel in his hands as he dried his hair. Your eyes fell back to your screen out of embarrassment and shock. Peter was fit, under his terrible personality was a toned body that was built like every sculpture you studied for your class, “Are you staring,” You heard Peter question from under the large towel.
“Just making sure you didn’t get struck by lighting in my shower,” You stutter a bit, “I’m disappointed that you didn’t, honestly,”
“Cute,” Peter added, “You believe in that urban legend,” He tossed the damp towel on your floor, making you shoot him an annoyed glance. Closing your laptop you hopped off of your bed, picking up the towel. Walking into the bathroom, you hung up the damp towel before studying Peter’s clothes that sat in a pile on your floor. For a second you could have sworn the sight made you smile.
You exit the room before you let yourself feel anything towards Peter only to see him reclined on your quilted comforter, “No,” You threaten, walking to the side of the bed. Your finger pointed to the floor as if you were scolding a new puppy, “off,”
“I’m not your dog,” Peter groaned, stretching his limbs before turning on his side, facing you.
“Well, you’re acting like one,” You stuttered, “Leaving your shit on the floor for me to pick up,”
“Sounds like you’re the pet, not me,” A sly smile crossed Peter’s face as your gaze dropped from embarrassment. A laugh passed through his smiling lips as he rolled onto his back, studying the ceiling of your small apartment.
Peter’s laugh crawled its way under your skin as you made your way onto the bed, “I hate you,” You spoke, grabbing onto Peter’s arm, attempting to move him off the bed, “do you know that,”
“You keep saying that,” Peter spoke as he propped himself up on his elbow. His face grew closer to yours as you studied his face, blinded by anger, “but I don’t think you mean it,”
“Oh I mean it,” You laughed, “You’re cocky, you’re a smartass,” You kneeled before Peter on the mattress, his eyes traced every curve of your body, unknowing to you as you rambled before him, “You try so hard to be better than me and god you get under my skin- I feel like I’m losing my mind,”
“Why wouldn’t I,” Peter questioned, “it’s too much fun to see you all worked up,” He beamed as if he was proud of himself even in this very moment.
“You’re unbelievable, you know that,” You grabbed hold of his wrist, still attempting to get him away from you, however you were just pulling him closer, “I hate you,”
“Yeah,” Peter questioned, “You’re getting all worked up over what,” He studied you as you felt your blood begin to boil. Suddenly, Peter could no longer look at you, Manhattan lost power, the lights shutting off enveloping the two of you in pitch darkness.
The two of you were silent, nothing but your rushing heartbeat and staggered breaths keeping you company. However, your breaths were cut short as you felt Peter press his lips against yours without warning. You froze, not relaying his actions but silently shouting in your own head. You felt as Peter laughed, the vibration tickling your skin.
“Maybe you do hate me,” He spoke, pulling away without any response from you.
“I do,” You stuttered, “I hate you,” You paused, part of you missing the warmth of his lips, “but… I didn’t hate that. But I do, you,” You stumbled over your words, “I don’t like you,”
“Yeah,” Peter questioned, “why don’t you tell me about it,” He hummed, his lips blindly searching your skin, trying to navigate you in the darkness, “Y/N,” He questioned, hearing your breath catch in your throat, “I’m waiting,”
“I-I told you,” Your voice came out in waves as Peter peppered your neck in wet kisses, “You irritate me and the thought of spending the night with you makes me want to pull my hair out,” You felt Peter smile against your skin. He knelt before you now, as his hand found its way into your hair, your sloppy bun falling easily. His slender fingers wrapped around your locks before pulling on them.
“Just like that,” He questioned, his heightened senses allowing him to hear a small whimper that passes through your parted lips. Peter’s hold on your hair allowed full access to your neck, his lips falling back against your skin, “What else? Tell me, sweetheart,”
“I,” You stuttered, Peter’s kisses melting away any thought of him that ever occupied your mind, “Y-you- you,”
“Come on,” Peter coaxed as his free hand found its way to your hip, his fingertips digging into your plush skin, “Tell me, my smart girl,”
You hummed at his praise, “I- I hate that when I look at you I forget how much you piss me off,” You admit, “you’re just- I like looking at you,”
“Yeah,” Peter laughed, inching closer to you, “Good job,” His legs straddled on either side of your knees, “such a smart girl, my smart girl,”
Reaching out, your mind was drunk on Peter’s words as your body begged to touch him. Your hands found his neck in the dark room as your fingers fell to the back of his head, running though his short brunette locks, “And- and I hate how I stare at the back of your stupid head in class,”
“Maybe that’s why I beat you to every answer,” Peter spoke, “You’re too distracted,”
“It’s your fault,” You answer, “Your hair looks so soft, feels soft,” You were lost in him, unable to feel any anger, “I wanted to run my fingers through it,” Your words were muffled as Peter’s lips found your own and this time you kissed him back, deepening the kiss.
“You don’t want to know what I wanted to do to you,” Peter confessed without an ounce of embarrassment, “what I want to do to you,”
“Go ahead,” You stutter, “before I change my mind,” You tempt your partner and he gives in. In a swift motion, you feel your back hit the mattress. You felt your air leave your lungs at the force of hitting your firm mattress. Peter had left your bed for a moment, picking up his old, beat up backpack. Digging through its small pocket he took out a condom. Picking your head up, you almost laughed. Were you that easy and predictable? Your small chuckle attracted Peter’s gaze, “You do this with all of your partners,” You ask boldly, not sugar coating your question.
“Just the ones that hate my guts,” Peter joked, setting the condom under the pillow your head rested on.
“So all the girls,” You spoke, “got it, I’ll go get tested in the morning,”
“Ouch,” Peter laughed, “You think I’m that bad,” He asked even though he knew the answer, “Surprising to you, sweetheart, you’re the only girl I met that can’t stand me,” He informed as he climbed back onto the bed, straddling your legs, “all the other girls love me,”
“How charming, not at all full of yourself,” You almost snorted. Peter’s skin was illuminated by the window that sat by your head. His abs cast in light and harsh shadow, looking like chiaroscuro in a painting. You picked up a hand from where it sat against your quilt, placing your fingertips lightly on his toned core, “If I look at you for much longer I’m going to forget that I don’t like you,”
“Then I’ll have to do a good job,” Peter spoke, his lips returning to your jawline, “make it so you have a hard time keeping your pretty little eyes open,” His sensual claim fell short as his voice became softer, “I wouldn’t want you to fall in love with me,”
You attempted to pick your head up as Peter’s face was buried in your neck, a small blush sat on his freckled nose that was undetected in the darkness. You were silent, shock from his words buzzing through your veins, “Yeah,” You managed to speak, “wouldn’t want that,”
“You’d hate that,” Peter added with a kiss to your cheek, “Wouldn’t you,” He asked, eyes studying your backlit face for an answer. Little did Peter realize that you could see every inch of desperation on his boyish face. You wondered if Peter really had it out for you in the way you thought, “Would it kill you to like me? You love when I kiss you but the idea of it being me pisses you off, doesn’t it,”
“Maybe if you stopped being such an asshole I would find an ounce of compassion for you and the puppy dog look you’re throwing me,” You share, allowing Peter to know you can tell the way he is looking at you, “You’re the one going out of your way to make me hate you,” With rough hands, Peter placed his hands on the collar of your thin white shirt. With a tug, your shoulders raised off of the mattress, a pinch of fear in your heart. However, you fell back to safety as Peter ripped you out of the fabric, “What the fuck,”
Peter stared down at you, a black bralette sitting prettily against your skin. He wanted to see more of you, to explore every inch you and of what made you tic. Pushing up the fabric, he exposed your chest to the cool air, watching your nipples harden. Turning your head, you could not bring yourself to watch as you fell under Peter’s hungry gaze, “So pretty,” Peter whispered, bringing his right hand to massage your breast. A whimper fell from your lips as you looked at him out of the corner of your eyes.
Bringing your fingertips to the hem of his boxers, you slipped under the elastic band, giving the fabric a tug. You silently begged him to take them off, to waste no more time. The quicker it was over the less time you had to fall for him, “Hurry up,”
“You look so pretty when you fall,” Peter read your mind, a blush sitting against your skin, “You want me so bad and you hate yourself for it,” He mocked, “don’t you,” Peter watched as you squirmed underneath him out of the lust his words brought, “You like being degraded or something? Hate that I’m an asshole to you because you like it,”
“Shut up,” You mumbled underneath him, burying your face into your shoulder as you met his eyes for a moment.
“Speak up, sweetie,” Peter spoke, “or I won’t give you what you want,” He brought his face close to your but instead ghosted your skin, bringing his lips to your ear, “Tell me what you want me to do to you,”
“Shut up and fuck me,” You stutter, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You were not sure if the tears were from anger or embarrassment.
“Could’ve asked nicely,” Peter spoke, his hands falling to the fabric of your leggings. As much as he wanted to tear you out of them, he felt as if you would hate him more if he took his time. Pulling down the fabric, he made sure his movements were painfully slow as his eyes took in your previously hidden skin inch by inch. You groaned knowing that Peter’s actions were deliberate, as he was trying so hard to get under your skin, “What,” Peter questioned, playing dumb.
“Just fuck me,” You whined completely falling apart. Suddenly you were desperate for him. An hour ago you wanted Peter nowhere near you and now you were begging for his touch. You now realized you did not hate him as much as you thought.
“Fine,” Peter spoke, “was gonna eat you out, until you begged me to cum,” He informed, “but if you want me that bad,” Swiftly, he pulled down your leggings, along with your underwear. He heard you whine a quiet protest, attracting his gaze, “What? Now you don’t want me to fuck you,” He questioned, “want me to make you cum first? Make up your mind, sweetheart. Tell me what you want,” Peter’s sweet yet sensual words flooded above you, “Wanna make my girl feel good,”
My girl? Those two words made your chest tighten, however it was not out of anger, not anymore. Your heart ached, finding yourself wanting Peter’s words to mean something more than a one night stand, “P-Please,” You stutter, stumbling over your own thoughts, “Yes. Yes please,”
“So polite,” Peter chuckled, as he bowed his head. His shoulders rounded as he made his way between your legs, “Gotta let go, baby,” He informed as he felt your grasp fight to hold his boxers. You did as he said, returning your hand to sit above your head on your plush pillow. Peter’s hands fell against your soft thighs, fingertips massaging them as he brought your legs over his shoulders. You felt Peter’s hot breath on your skin as he studied you, “You like how I talk to you? Does it make you wet,” Peter laughed at the sight in front of him, “Pretty wet for someone who hates the idea of me. Were you like this at the Met,” He questioned.
“No,” You stuttered, feeling your face heat up out of embarrassment. You heard Peter hum, not believing you. You sucked in air between your pressed lips as you nervously waited for Peter to make his move. You felt your entire body stiffen as you waited.
“Relax,” Peter spoke, his hands leaving your thighs to travel up your body. His tongue was rough, his fingertips digging into your flesh, however it was somehow comforting. Feeling you relax in his hold, he planted a wet kiss straight to your core before trailing his tongue through your wet folds. His skilled tongue made its way to your clit as his gaze raised, studying you from under his eyelashes. You whimpered at the thought of being perceived by Peter in the state he was putting you in. And you were a stuttering and moaning mess.
“Fuck,” You whine, the single word struggling to pass through your already parted lips, “so good,”
“Do you hate this,” Peter asked, “do you hate me now, Y/N,” His question rang in your ears as you found yourself shaking your head, letting him know you no longer hated him. At least not at this moment, “Do you like me,” He paused his actions to allow his words to vibrate against your clit. You whimpered at the lack of contact, “maybe even a little bit,”
“May-maybe,” You spoke, “just a little,” you whine, “please,” Picking up your hand, your fingers ghost Peter’s soft brown locks before his hand finds your wrist. You verbally groan, wishing to touch him, however you give into him as soon as you meet his eyes.
Peter laughed, watching you crumble because of him, in his hold, “We’ll see how much you like me after I make you cum,” His left hand found your breast, kneading your soft skin before taking your nipple between his fingers. A moan passed through your lips as he smiled against the skin of your inner thigh. Rising up from between your legs, he brought his free hand to your lips, “Open,” He spoke, his index and middle finger sitting against your plush lips, “I’m sure you’re wet enough,” Peter grinned, “just wanna see you suck on something,” Your brow furrowed at his words, however, you parted your lips and allowed his fingers to sit against your tongue, “Keep that pretty little mouth occupied,” Peter smiled, “Can’t tell me you hate me with something in your mouth? Can you,” His question made you hum around his skin, “I’ll have to remember that,”
Peter removed his fingers from your mouth, snaking the wet digits down your body until he ran them through your folds, teasing your entrance. Slowly, Peter inserted his fingers into you making a whimper bubble from your lips. Peter’s fingers were slender and skilled, making you wonder how many girls have cum on his good-looking hands.
“Tell me what you love about me,” Peter groaned, listening to your moans, “What about me got you so wet,”
“Hands,” You stuttered quietly. Your low voice made Peter question you, “Your hands,” You admit, “You’re hands are so pretty, your fingers- so good,” You moan as Peter brings his smiling lips to your clit, beginning to stimulate you as he continued to finger you, “and your hair,” You spoke, picking up your hand, bringing it down between your legs, “wanted to touch your hair for so long,” You admitted, tangling your digits in his soft locks, “think about it every time I sit behind you,”
“That why, sweetheart,” Peter questioned as you tugged on his brunette hair, “You have me now,” He cooed, his words snaked past his occupied lips, yet comforted you, “What do you want me to do to you now that you have me,” Peter questioned, “I’m all yours. You can’t get rid of me,”
“I-I don’t think I want to,” You moaned, giving him the answer he was begging for, “Want you to fuck me,”
Peter groaned, partially thankful to cut the foreplay short. Peter would have eaten you out until you had enough, but he was desperate. His body burned for you and he knew as soon as he was inside you he would melt, “Don’t have to ask me again,” He almost moaned. Escaping your legs, your hand stayed in his locks as he moved up your body. His hand searched blindly for the condom he had tucked underneath your pillow as his lips found yours, “Want you so bad, Y/N,”
“I think you want me more than I want you right now,” You teased.
“Thought you hated me,” Peter questioned, ripping open the foil packet, “Change of heart,” He asked as he pulled his boxers down his fit thighs. The sight almost made you physically swoon like they do in the movies. You wondered if your jaw dropped or not as you studied Peter. His hands placed the condom at his tip before rolling it down his long length.
“You’re making a compelling case,” You almost smiled, however it faded as soon as Peter lined himself up with your entrance. You bit your lip subtly, bracing yourself for getting fucked by the person you hated the most.
You were tense, so neither of you were surprised at the slight force Peter needed to begin to enter you. Placing his forehead on yours, Peter stared into your eyes. He wanted to comfort you, to give into you completely, but he knew better, “Relax,” He reminded, his eyes flashing a dominant glance. His glance sent a wave of lust through you, making you constrict around the inch of his dick that he had entered, making him moan quietly, “fuck, gotta let me in baby,”
You wanted to let him in, to give into him. What was holding you back? Was it your pride? Or was it that you already had fallen completely for him? You wondered if you never hated Peter at all and if you were just afraid to fall so hard for someone who could easily allow you to crash to the ground.
Peter’s soft kisses brought you out of your head and back to reality. You decided that you had made up your mind, “Good girl,” Peter moaned  as he bottomed out in one fast thrust.
“Fuck, I love you,” You moaned in response, eyes rolling back to the back of your head. You did not dare to meet Peter’s eyes as he paused for a moment, mind registering your starling words. However, his thrusts began just as quickly.
“What was that, baby,” Peter questioned but you were silent, “You embarrassed,” He questioned, “or am I fucking you so good you can’t talk,”
“B-both,” You stuttered, eyes struggling to stay open. You stared at Peter through your lashes, your eyes struggling to focus on his smug grin.
“You love me, sweetheart,” Peter questioned, “Just a little bit,” He asked you, watching you nod in agreement, “Mm, good, good girl,” His hold on your hips grew stronger, making you moan at his super strength, “I’m glad,” Peter’s head grew fuzz as he threw it back, completely lost in you, “love you, love fucking you, sweetie,”
“Peter, I- I’m going to,” You stuttered, “cum, fuck,” His strength allowed him to fuck you faster and longer than a normal college guy. Peter easily forgot about his strength as he tossed you around, fucking you like a toy, “fuck,”
“Already,” Peter questioned, “Baby, I can go all night,” He degraded, “Gotta take me for longer than that,”
“You can shut me up instead,” You offered, watching Peter laugh above you.
“I’m saving that for another day,” Peter enlightened you, “For the next time you feel like telling me you hate me,”
You almost pouted, body beginning to feel sore from Peter’s grasp, “Fine,” You accepted your fate and the fact that you would not be making it to your early morning lecture, “You owe me,” You added, “there’s no way I’m going- fuck- to be able to walk,” You moaned as Peter rolled his hips into you slowly, “tomorrow,”
“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” Peter spoke, “Can’t run away from me if I fuck you this good,” His words were smooth, you wondered how they came out of his mouth. If that was you, you would become a stuttering mess, but Peter could degrade you until you cried, “Fuck you this good every night,”
“If you keep talking I’m going to cum,” You moan, watching Peter’s smug grin grow closer to your own lips.
“You gonna cum on my dick, sweetheart,” Peter questioned, watching you nod. Your eyes were screwed shut, unable to bring yourself to look at him, “Look at me when I make you cum,” He instructed, his right hand taking hold of your jaw. Peter’s tight grip forced your eyes open, “Wanna feel you lose yourself,” He told you, “Feel you give into me,”
“Fuck,” You attempt to moan with Peter’s hold on your jaw, “Gon’ cum,” Your words were obscured, “Peter,”
“What love,” Peter questioned, “You’re going to cum,” He asked once more, watching another forced nod shake your head, your hair bouncing, “God I love you,” He spoke, feeling himself come undone, unknown to him. Peter let out a shaken moan as the two of you came together.
Peter’s grasp fell from your face, pushing stray hairs back onto your pillow. He studied your fucked-out expression as he watched your chest rise and fall from your heavy breaths, “fuck,” He whispered, collapsing next to you on the mattress, your body bounced slightly from his fall, “So do you still hate me,”
“Shut up,” You groaned, however small laughs bubbled past your lips. You raised your arm, covering your eyes from him, “no,” Suddenly, you planned on picking the last available day to give your presentation.
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eloquenceflores · 23 days ago
* ・ ゚𖡼 ︎ִֶָ⁀➷
𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗬 𝗗𝗢𝗟𝗟 | 𝗻. 𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗳𝗳
「 SYNOPSIS 」 / the day finally comes where your deepest fantasies comes true ♡︎.
「 PAIRINGS 」 / milf!natasha x fem!reader
「 WORD COUNT 」 / 2113
「 WARNINGS 」 / SMUT, sexc blonde!milf!natasha, age gap (reader is of age), ma’am kink, dirtttyyy talking, some fingering, a tad of oral, use of a dildo, use of a lottt of pet names, overstimulation, just filth, language, porn with little plot, d/s dynamics, cheating (i do not condone!) that’s it?
➪ author’s notes : ❝ yooooo so here’s the long awaited second part to the first fic i had made as promised. i hope u guys enjoy & as always i love u <333 ❞
part one
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masterlist / navigation
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“you made me feel so good, pretty girl. i promised to fuck you and i will keep that, you deserve it. how about you finish yourself off in the bathroom and make sure y/f/n is sleep and come into my room when your ready”
“i’ll be waiting for you”
and you did exactly that.
when you had made it into the bathroom upstairs, it had barely taken you two seconds to make yourself cum right there while sitting on the sink counter. legs spreaded wide open while your fingers rubbed at your clit fastly, making sure to slap your hand right against your mouth when you came because if you didn’t you were absolutely sure you would echo the whole entire house even from the locked bathroom.
when you were finished, you had cleaned yourself a bit before heading back into your friend's bedroom where she laid, talking on the phone; the tv was long forgotten as it sat there blasting netflix with no audience watching. your friend had heard the bedroom door open and whipped her head towards the noise to find you just walking in. “girl where the hell have you been?” she exclaims, wait were you really gone for that long? you thought to yourself. you sat in silence for a quick second before answering her.
“your mom saw me walking around and decided to make me a little snack” you shrugged carelessly, just lying straight through your teeth. as you spoke the words you were smirking internally; the addictive taste of natasha’s pussy still alive and electrocuting your tongue. a fucking snack it was indeed.
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it took about 30 whole minutes for your friend to finally fall asleep but to you it felt like at least 20 hours max. you had to keep persuading her and telling her you both should go to sleep and it eventually worked. you really want your time with natasha, and you were thanking the heavens that it wasn't one of those days where your friend would pull an all-nighter and stay up until the sun rose. when she had fallen asleep you had to stay in place for another long couple of minutes to make sure she was absolutely in deep slumber before you began to get up to exit the room as quietly as you could.
you had made it successfully out of the bedroom and into the hallroom, your gaze instantly zeroing down to natasha’s now intimidating bedroom door just a few feet away from you, the bedroom light casting a glow from underneath the slit of the door. with little steps you started to walk towards her bedroom door, wanting to run full on but cancelled the thought; deciding to take your time and not cause any floor creaks.
once you made it to the door you quickly took in a huge amount of air before raising your hand to gently place two slow knocks against the wood, and almost immediately you received an answer. there the woman of the hour had stood, right in front of you. completely naked, the lacy nightgown she once wore an hour or so ago was gone. you couldn’t help but let your eyes zero in on the older woman’s beautiful sculpted body with desire and starving lust swimming in your irises. natasha raised a sharp brow at you, laughing slowly at your awestruck face that was too busy looking at the area where her breasts laid upon her chest. all it took was a little wave of her fingers motioning you to come inside for you to immediately follow like a little puppy wanting a treat.
when you made it into the beautiful bedroom of hers you swore it felt like it had become so quiet. so quiet you thought if a water bottle cap dropped everyone would be able to hear. you stood in the middle of the room with your hands clasping at your arms. you just couldn’t help but feel nervous with the gorgeous woman standing in front of you completely nude. how come you didn’t even feel like this when she was knuckle deep inside of your pussy earlier? you contemplated yourself. nat saw your nervous figure awkwardly standing there and chuckled before she started to walk over to your body and push at your shoulders. causing you to fall back and sit on the front of her bed.
“no need to be so nervous, babygirl. what do you think i’m gonna do huh?” the woman questions, her finger absentmindedly moving a strand of your hair away from your face so she could look at you directly and clearly. you looked up at her with those shiny, doe blinding-like eyes which natasha internally groaned at. gosh, she absolutely loved when you hit her with that look.
“you’re gonna, f-fuck me..?” you tried to state but it came out more like a question instead.
natasha smirks widely at your answer, “that’s exactly what you want huh? you want me to fuck that pussy into my mattress, baby?” when you nodded at her words nat copied and gave you a searing kiss on your pouty lips before she got up and walked into her walk in closet, and quickly you could see her start to move things around and dig.
a couple of seconds had passed before she finally walked out and what she held in her hand made your mouth go dry. it was an average length, silver silicone dildo clutched tightly into her hand, the other hand twirling at the head of the toy teasing as she made her way back to you. natasha’s husband worked a demanding job and always went on business trips so of course the woman needed to have something to keep her from losing her mind all the time, along with her vibrator but that’s for a whole different time.
“scoot up on the bed” you moved quickly as soon as the command left her lips. your body scooting back up further on the bed so you were sitting right in the middle. nat next commanded you to get undressed which you followed to as well without any questions which she praised you for. natasha then crawled up on top of the bed until she’s right in front of you, rising up to sit on her knees before lifting up the toy to your face. a coy smile dancing on her plump lips as she slapped the toy against the flesh of your own lips.
“open up, doll. gotta get it nice and wet for your ma’am”
as soon as your lips parted, natasha shoved the dildo into your mouth and started thrusting it down your throat until you started to gag. your little hands grasping at her wrist to signal you needed a breather. she listened and pulled back and away from you, bringing the toy along with her. she then placed a peck on your forehead, “such a good girl, now spit” the blonde moved the tip of the fake cock towards your awaiting mouth, groaning loudly when she saw your spit dribble down onto the cock while your eyes held contact with her lustful ones. when you finished getting the toy wet enough to nat’s preference she motioned you to turn around on all fours.
“good, good. arch your back, ass all the way up honey” nat guided, and after some final adjustments she was fully satisfied with your position.
the woman then placed her hand over your whole pussy, cupping you in her palm. a little gasp leaving her lips at just how wet you were in her hand, you were absolutely dripping. “goddamn, baby. all of this for me?” nat whispers in awe, her fingers now toying and rubbing at your clit. just getting you more wet and ready for her.
“yes ma’am, i’m so wet for you and you only” you whimper, the feeling of her digits playing with your throbbing clit making you go drunk that quickly and she barely did anything. natasha chuckles with a shake of her head, “fuck you’re such a good girl for me, such a perfect little thing. you ready for me, dollface?”
you made noises of agreement and that gave nat the greenlight to start inserting the toy inside of you. “you barely fit my fingers in that tight pussy of yours earlier, i don’t think it’ll fit babygirl” nat teased with a faux pout on her lips, grinning widely when she had got the reaction she wanted out of you. “no no! ma’am it’ll fit, please fuck me” you whined and begged with a little kick of your legs as well.
“alright alright, calm down. i promised i would, didn't i?” you nodded and nat smiled at you, finally pushing the toy inside of you.
the wetness you kept leaking made the intrusion much easier to do, your pussy swallowing the silicon almost immediately. when nat bottomed out the toy and had it completely inside of you, she started to do some slow testing thrusts. “mm, how does that feel?” she asks you, deep emerald eyes flickering up to look at your facial expressions. “it feels so good, ma’am. please go faster now?” nat smirks and obeys your request with grace, her hand tightening around the end of the fake cock before she lifts her wrist up and slams it back down repeatedly, fucking you with the toy now.
and soon the only sounds that could be heard in the room was the dildo fucking into you and the wet squelching sounds coming from your soaked pussy. oh and the loud moans and cries you couldn’t contain. “doll, the walls aren’t soundproof. you have to keep it down” nat scolds you while continuing to fuck you with the cock roughly. “ma’am, i can’t. it feels so, so good” you cried, eyes shut tightly as the waves of pleasure washed over your body with each thrust she inflicted into you.
the older woman tsks, “if you can’t be quiet, i will force you to”
her stern words made your lips pucker up into a wounded pout. of course you didn't want your friend to hear but what makes her think she can fuck you so good and thinks you’re not about to moan like crazy? it’s utterly impossible.
the blonde haired woman then suddenly bent down, her hand continuing to pump the toy into you while she opened her mouth to place an open, wet kiss at your swollen, puffy clit. the action making you squeal at the sudden stimulation she just endured on your clit, both of your legs twitching right beside her head. as soon as the loud surprised sound left your lips she lifted her head up from your pussy, her free hand coming up to your messy hair; gripping it before pushing you face down into the pillows.
“could've sworn i told you to shut up” she spat, her other hand now staying locked into your hair, keeping your head in place as she fucked you even faster than before. your muffled moans and whimpers now buried and trapped into the softness of the pillows.
nat then noticed how much wet you’ve gotten, your essence now dripping and landing on her sheets. she also noticed how your legs began to shake and twitch, indicating how close you were to becoming a straight putty in her hands. “fuck princess, youre so close aren’t you? hmm? gonna cum on my cock, pretty one?” she lifted your head up from the pillows so she could hear your replies, “yes! please ma’am, i’m gonna cum so fucking badly. please, please. ‘m so, close”
natasha cooed, her wrist speeding up its pace. “oh yeah? cum for me then, cum for your ma’am”
at the quickening pace of the dildo and her other hand coming away from your hair to rub at your clit fastly, you were cumming like an absolute mad woman. your mouth opened and gaped in a silent scream, both legs of yours shaking and thrashing. your lower body trying to move away from natasha as she kept pleasuring you during your release only for the woman to grab you and place you back into position. when your hands scrambled to hers and tried to push them away from your poor core she decided to have mercy on you.
finally pulling the toy out of you and backing away, making sure to run a hand along your back to calm you after the mind-floating orgasm you’ve just received.
“i’m making sure you’ll never stop being friends with y/f/n, you’re mine now.”
──── ੈ♡˳ ༘ ੈ♡˳ ༘° ੈ♡˳ ༘° ੈ♡˳ ༘° ੈ♡˳ ༘°────
🏷 permanent taglist / @dummiesshort @itstaskeen @itscaminow @bi-lmg07 @hallecarey1 @fairyprettygirly @dreamy-clousds @genyaspoison @teenwolfbitches28 @squirreljoe @lilostif16 @yelena-my-love
🏷 natasha romanoff taglist / @romanoff-slut
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riverevelations · a month ago
pursuit of happiness
— he’s your daddy’s best friend, you shouldn’t feel this way about him. yet, everything that should send you running for the hills only pulls you closer into his arms.
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PAIRING ; dad’s bestfriend!bucky x f!reader
GENERAL WARNINGS ; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, smut, masturbation, mutual pining, forbidden love, angst, fluff, violence, arguments, trauma, blood, weapons, the works. specific warnings will be added to each chapter.
STATUS ; in progress
DISCLAIMERS ; reader is at least 18 or over during each and every event that takes place. reader is also written with very few descriptive words so this story can be read and enjoyed by everyone!
NOTES ; taglist is open for this series, lmk if you want to be added!
— divider by @firefly-graphics
— moodboard by @bvckysmoon
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i. on my mind. || 3,057
ii. something ‘bout you
iii. on my tongue
iv. born to be wild
v. feel me, want me, love me
vi. fireworks
vii. cherry wine
viii. what we were
ix. ballad of our love
x. one final act
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xx @doubleleoenergy @burberrybaby @lxst-sxulss @beavtifvl-creatvres @eireduchess @pinknerdpanda @multiplums @wintersschildrenn @sydneekomspacekru @sokovianheadtilt @winterrskywalker @sebbstanblues @metalbuckaroo @simplystevies @chanelfaerie @suchababie @iamjusthereforsebastianstan @midnightf @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @tedpicklez @ali-the-alien @mrsmusicaddict @mrjamesstark @gray-reads @yajairuhhh @kissinglikecake @agentofbarnes @dontworrysunflower @julesisgone @mrsgrealishxx @dexter99 @sarahs-secrets114 @not-another-fangirl @iwannabeyourlastfirstkissxx-blog @whatinthestyles @mitchrappkillme @its-yasbxtch
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floatingpetals · 5 months ago
Yup, youuu guessed it. Here’s another list of Wattpad users stealing works from tumblr and posting it to their accounts without asking for permission.* If you’ve given the person permission great! But chances are most on this list have not. Please don’t send unnecessary hate to these people, just inform them if your work is stolen and report their links. Also, please reblog to boost. Chances are this will not show up in tags and it needs to get out there. I will also not add a read now, because everyone needs to see this no matter how bulky it is.
Urls might have also changed/ they’re not on tumblr anymore in this too so if you know what they’ve changed to or if they left please let them know! Now on to the list! 
First we have this one!
Cant stop by @lokirels 
Black lace for Beginner, Dog tags and storage units, by @moteldwelling 
Lost Control by @navybrat817
On his Shoulder by @whateveriwant
Pretty face on a pretty neck @whistlingwillows
Around your neck, That black tee by @beyondspaceandstars
Two Servings by @marvel-diaries
Next we have this collection. It’s mainly Bucky x reader HOWEVER they have stories for other fandoms as well. There’s a lot here so I’m only going to list the people, they are titled by what assume your one shot probably was title with I’ll put how many times too.
@ gaybybirth (can’t tag them) @poeticblissme @221bshrlocked (2x) @bitsandbobsandstuff (2x) @stuckydealer @ugh-supersoldiers @notimetoblog @jaamesbbaarnes or jjamesbarnes (maybe? Idk there were a few of ya’ll that popped up in this and it might be another person) @buckybarnesstar @prettyyoungtragedy @redgillan @avasparks @ceruleanbucky @ xmidnight-moonlightx (can’t tag them either) @ cleolemonfanfiction (might not be there url anymore) @nev3rfound @ agent-styleson (might not have the url or left) @ thottybarnes (can’t tag/i think their url changed) @revengingbarnes (2x) @ babybarnesy (can’t tag) @melodramaticfanatic @borkingbarnes @sinner-as-saint @ jewelofwinter (can’t tag) @baroquebucky @sincerelymlg @ jupiterbucky (can’t tag) @ flightofthefantasieson (can’t tag) @ fatbottombarnes (can’t tag) @sebbystanimagines (5x) @sergeanttucker @ hannie-writes-marvel (can’t tag) @ spacemansam (don’t think that’s their url anymore but they have a bunch) @ fandommaniacx (can’t tag) @littledarlinwrites (2x) @becs-bunker (3x) @the--sad--hatter @thebuckboibarnes @angryschnauzer @heavenbarnes 
On to the third list. Once again there’s a lot however most of the people in the list I can’t tag/ they’re url isn’t attached to them anymore. So either they didn’t credit properly or it’s been long enough they original authors have changed their names.  Make sure you check their other ‘works’ because they also have stolen stories on their page.
And then lastly is a user that was in my last post that still has their story up with a bunch of stolen work too. 
I’m sure there’s more out there, but that’s what I’ve found for now at least in the marvel fandom. This isn’t including the like four others I found for other fandoms. Please do not take our work and post it some place else unless we specifically state it’s alright. 
*this is also only stuff I’ve found where they’ve blatantly stated they took it from Tumblr and that they didn’t write it. The only way you can tell if your work has been posted some places else is to look it up on a plagiarism site like Quetext.
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becca-e-barnes · 4 months ago
Make It Up To Me, Barnes
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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, lipstick ruined, 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.
3K notes · View notes
Dude, She's Just Not Into You
Chris Evans x Actress!Reader Summary: You and Chris were lovers in a major motion picture. Beyond that you were great friends off screen. Except no one believed that. Everyone could see how whipped that meatball was for you, except you lol. Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: A lot of pining, fluff, also i used Y/N n stuff ASHDHaL:SFHASLHF disgostin, actress au, crack fic lol, etc.
A/N: ayyy I kinda made a another one that kinda could be p2 but not really so if ur into reading it lol here it is
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20+ minute YT video captioned: Chris Evans & Y/F/N Test To See How Compatible they are with each other.
It's an all white background and two chairs.
Chris is in a sweater and slacks, as am I.
"Hi, my name is Chris Evans," I say making Chris turn to me and knit his brows mutter, "so who am I?"
I turn to him and examine his soft expression. I place a hand on my jaw and hum in thought. I look at his sweater and I turn back to the camera, "-and today we're going to be seeing how-" Chris laughs softly in the background, "compatible we are."
I turn to the bearded man, "now Ronaldo, I know we're dressed like we're on the same team, but we aren't."
Chris pulls his head back and makes a face. He turns over his shoulder and whispers softly, "are you talking to me? This is awkward."
I snap two fingers at him, "focus, focus, Zhao. You have the attention of a two year old."
Chris begins to look around, "am... am I in the right room?"
"I'm here to prove to everyone that I am the superior Chris Evans because I actually listen to what you have to say--"
He sucks in a sharp breath and straightens his back. He raises his brows and a finger, "aLrIghT, first of all--"
"--quit mansplaining, Johan-- but also the entire film we're in heavily relies on the compatibility we have. Thus if we are found incompatible because of your incompetence, you are the sole reason why this film would have any bad ratings whatsoever."
Chris looks dumbfounded but he eventually sighs, "well, you know what, that seems soundly fair."
I nod, "as it is."
"But your sweater is still ugly," he randomly spurts, making me turn to my white top then to his white top. I stand from my chair and position my arms into a T, "excuse me, this is above my paygrade. My cultured feet will not be insulted by a mildly amusing piece of white bread, thanks."
The comment section of this video:
Chris: I- Y/N: absolutely not [1.5k likes]
"I think Y/N is an absolute great person. She's so passionate and kind. Everything she does she puts her heart out. I know how cheesy it is to say, but I have never met someone like her." -chris evans "Imma be real witchu... I don't get it." -y/n freaking y/l/n [5.1k likes] >>>20 REPLIES<<< It do really be like dat sometimes 😔 [1k likes] MS Y/L/N COLLECT UR MAN OR GIVE HIM TO ME THX [2.6k likes]
I love how Chris gets most of the questions right and still is wrong lmao 😂 [200k likes]
OKAY BUT NO ONES TALKING ABOUT HOW SHE GOT ONE ANSWER WRONG BUT IT WAS ACTUALLY STILL RIGHT [61k likes] >>>500 replies<<< Ya'll can't convince me they're not dating. [3k likes] SHe wAs so pressed about it toooo HELLLPPP [2.5k likes] I think they're talking about it now lol [657 likes]
3 minute highlight clip from a solo interview captioned: Y/F/N On 'How Hard' It Was Working With Chris Evans
The scene is set in a red carpet event. Loud ambient noise in the background and infrequent camera flashes.
I'm wearing a one shoulder, sparkly, green tunic dress. I stand in front of an interviewer wearing something quite similar. She starts off with that, "Look at us, we're matching."
I smile back at her and match her enthusiastic tone, "Yeah! Look at us, in the trends. Had we been wearing the same color, someone would have gotten fired."
We share a laugh.
"So tell me how it was working with Chris Evans."
"Horrible," I say with no hesitation. I roll my eyes dramatically and huff, "the dude kept eating my muffins on set. Just because he had unlimited bread options as Captain America doesn't mean he can just steal my french toast too."
"Oh gosh, I had no idea."
"Yeah," sigh, "it's just not right." I look up and pretend to hold back tears. The dear interviewer plays along and pats my shoulder. I shake my head and raise a hand, "no, I'm fine. I just-- I want America to know that that man you love so much, is a glutton for gluten. It's kind of sad to see how much that bright star has faded."
The comment section of this video:
You just can't spell Y/F/N without dramatic. [104k+ likes]
This woman is so extra and I AM HERE FOR IT. QUEEEEEN [15.5k likes]
14 minutes of y/n hating chris & chris proving her otherwise (that's the video)
We're seated next to each other. The interviewer is in front of us and the movie poster behind.
"Do you ever look at someone and say, 'man, that dude is hecka ugly'? Well, folks, that's how I feel when I see him," I say turning to Chris who was already looking at me.
Chris says casually, "I think I'm pretty good looking."
"Well, that's what makes you ugly," I turn to the interviewer, "no one likes a self-aware hot guy."
Chris smiles, keeping his eyes fixed on me, "so you agree?"
--CUT TO--
Same setting, different time and interviewer.
Said interviewer asks, "After working on a film for a year, what has been your favorite thing to do together."
There is a short pause.
Chris answers, "you know, I think I'd say something like having coffee. Like, we would go to cafes and just sit there, read a book, and chill."
"Clearly it was enjoyable because I didn't talk to him at all," I say with a firm nod.
"Says the girl who made me rush into the makeup studio just to tell me that stupid joke she had."
My eyes widen in defense, "Oh well sorry you have no humor. Literally everyone in the makeup department laughed at the joke."
"If I had said the joke you wouldn't have let me live that down."
"Yeah, but you wouldn't have said that joke because your a dry piece of-"
--CUT TO--
I'm sitting alone in a studio. The video is in black and white.
"If you could get one trait of Chris Evan's as your own, what would it be and why," I read the question off of a cue card and place it at the back of the deck. "Okay, first of all, I would not touch that man with a 20 foot pole. Okay. Get that on record."
I push the hair out of my face then think for a moment, "second of all, Chris, I think these days, has such a lovable image. You know like, I think before he got his shield, he was type cast as a bad boy, but he really is just a really big, lovable guy, you know. And, I feel like I would want to be someone who feels like that, you know."
The comment section of this video:
Y/N: Chris Evans 🤬👹 💩💢🔪 Also Y/N: Chris Evans 🥰💖🤰✨🌸 [40k+ likes]
5 minute clip: Chris Evans On Dating Rumors with Y/F/N
It's a red carpet event. Chris is in a suit and shades. "So," the interviewer asks Chris, "what do we think of Y/N?"
"Well, we think she's great. She's super talented, super hard working, super funny. She's great."
"Yeah, and we know how playful and wild your interviews can get."
Chris purses his lips in a soft smile and shakes his head, "she's a tough cookie, you know?"
"Do you like tough cookies?"
"I mean, a cookie's a cookie. I like cookies. I like them anyway I can get. You can always eat a harder cookie with milk, so."
"Would you say you're the milk to her cookie?"
Chris breaks into a left booby grab laugh. Once he settle down a bit, "I don't know where this is going but I don't wike it."
"I mean, you two are so comfortable with each other. Haven't you ever thought of dating?"
He sighs and shakes his head. He half-heartedly says, "Wow. I mean, what could I have ever thought about if not dating a tough cookie. Look, hey, let's ask her now."
I am about to pass by him, but I'm so rudely interrupted.
Chris borrows the mic from the interviewer, "have you thought of nothing else but dating me?"
I am, admittedly, taken aback. In a few seconds though, I turn to my shoulder and utter one word, "security."
10+ minute panel interview titled: Love Loop Stars Chris Evans and Y/F/N Interview In New York
"I'm really curious," the interviewer asks, "how did this all start? The bickering, the sarcasm, does it come naturally, or was there a tipping point between you two."
The two of us were laughing at the start of the question, knowing exactly where it was going from the get go.
"Well, I'm honestly a naturally sarcastic person. I think Chris and I have a similar sense of humor, but mostly I just like getting a rise out of him. He's such a confused old man sometimes and it's hilarious, which is why try my darndest to give the world the content they deserve. The PR team actually encourage me."
Chris's shoulders shakes in laughter. He shakes his head in disagreement.
"And how do you feel about her banter?"
"Well," he drags out, "not that I can stop her, but with every sarcastic comment she gives-- although... I do get a little nervous-"
"Wait what?" I turn to him with an incredulous look on my face.
"Well, you know you start thinking."
I roll my eyes, "oh my gosh, you just want me to sing praises on live TV and tell the world how much I love you."
Chris starts getting defensive and raises his hands. Red begins to rise up from his neck to his cheeks.
I continue on anyway, "Okay, ya'll better make sure the cameras are recording because I won't say this as often." I clear my throat, "I-" gag noises, "love Chris Evans."
The room cheers.
It's Chris's turn to stand and bring his arms together into a T, "time out." He disagrees, "this is wayyyy above my pay grade."
1K notes · View notes
hellotherekenobi · 23 days ago
───home where i belong.
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summary: life seemed a little strange in westview, but bucky was all you needed to feel at home. unfortunately, your life with him was not all it appeared to be.
cw: contains spoilers for wandavision. based on this tiktok. fem!reader.
tw: angst? mentions of sexual intimacy, injury, panic attacks, and sickness.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
“Love at first sight, eh?” James smiles, his arms wrapped around you as you both lay in bed, though he preferred you called him Bucky.
Why’d you pick me? he had asked you a minute before. There were other people in town, other people you could have chosen to be with, but you chose him. The thought never really crossed your mind. When you had first met him—well, it’s a bit foggy, but somehow you knew he was the one. You wanted to be with him, it was just instinctual. It was almost... too good to be true.
“Yeah,” you murmur, nuzzling in closer to his warmth. A warmth you had grown used to, attached to; the stability in what felt like an unstable life. “Love at first sight.”
It was the quietest truth you believed, not because you were laying in his arms, but because it felt real. The world you lived in always seemed a bit plastic, manufactured. Some things were almost too convenient, but not Bucky. He was the only one who stood out. When time seemed to buzz around you, he was the one standing still.
You doze off quickly to the feel of his smiling lips pressed to your temple, then awake the next morning to an empty bed and the sound of the radio playing from the kitchen downstairs. Bucky’s hat from his days as a sergeant is hanging off the ear of one of the wooden chairs as you step into the room, smelling the eggs frying in the pan he had on the stove, the normal morning routine. He sways side to side to the rhythm of the song, a melody he had played more than once before—a memoir of his life during the war. He didn’t talk about it much.
Bucky jumps a little when your arms wrap around his waist from behind, a chuckle leaving your lips as you press a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Did I startle you, Sergeant Barnes?”
His hand rubs up and down your arms around him, warm and solid, whilst the other continues to toss the eggs with a spatula. “You’re a quiet one,” he smiles, turning slightly to kiss your forehead. “You’d think I’d be used to that by now.”
By now. Your eyebrows furrow as he keeps swaying, though you stay attached to him. “Bucky...” he hums in reply, something far cheerier than how you’re feeling. Or rather, thinking. “How long have we been together?”
“What?” he chuckles, flipping the eggs over and turning in your arms. “You telling me you don’t remember, doll? It’s been a long time.”
“How long?”
He mimics your expression as he pauses, that serious look on his face when he thinks too hard about something. You’ve come to know his expressions by now, but by now when? You never questioned him, not even once, but some things felt wrong. Your life felt wrong. It was the buzzing, the movement. Though he stood still, the world kept moving.
You speak his name when he remains silent, then he shakes his head and reaches over to turn the stove off and grab the glass bottle of milk on the counter, moving out of your arms, out of the warmth.
“I can’t remember,” you tell him when he doesn’t say a word. “Was it before the war? It’s all foggy. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“How did I get back?” Bucky suddenly asks, but it’s a question more so to the air than to you. “I don’t remember coming back. I just remember... snow.”
He never speaks about the war and you’ve always respected that. It was probably too frightening to say aloud, but this is the first time he’s mentioned it so honestly. It shudders him, you can see it. His brows stay furrowed, harsh on his usual gentle features. You convince yourself that you can hear the question ticking against his brain, a noise to disrupt the ponderable silence.
Bucky looks down at his arm and gasps, something so sudden it takes you by surprise, dropping the glass bottle of milk and it shatters on the floor. It’s enough to draw you out of your thoughts, your eyes scanning for all the scattered shards and noticing his bare feet. Yet you don’t notice the way the music stops playing from the radio, as if on cue to the smash.
“Don’t move until I can get that swept up.” it’s an urgent order, then you turn out of the kitchen.
But Bucky stares down at his arm that was holding the glass bottle, his left arm. “I thought I saw—”
“Where did you put the broom?” comes your voice from the other room, interrupting Bucky’s question to himself.
He clears his throat once and seemingly forgets the vision of metal in replace of his skin. “The broom closet.”
When you come hurrying back with a broom in hand, you notice something you hadn’t before; the radio, which turns back on and continues its tune as soon as you step into the kitchen. You can feel the look Bucky sends you, though your eyes stay on the radio. No matter how strange, yet how normal it feels, you sweep up the glass and mutter to yourself: “Now I need another bottle.”
It’s the first thing you leave the house to get after Bucky and you finish breakfast, though it was a little cold by the time you both sat down to eat it. You just reach the street at the end of the driveway when you see a familiar face, relief apparent in your voice as you call her name. She turns to look at you, her eyes squinted in a way that she’s mulling over something in her head before she calls your name in reply.
“Just who I need to see,” you smile, giving her a brief hug. You always greet her this way, but it felt almost obligatory. “I don’t even remember how it happened this morning, but James dropped our last bottle of milk. Would you have a spare?”
“Of course,” she smiles, then just like that, she hands you a fresh glass bottle of milk, seemingly out of thin air.
“Wow, what a saint you are!” your cheeks feel pressed too tight when you smile. “Do you carry these wherever you go?”
“Oh, you never know when you might need one.”
You swear you hear laughter after she speaks, something distant like it was behind you. Muffled. You try to shake it out of your ears. “Thanks, Wanda. I don’t know what I would do without you here.”
─────── ⋯ ───────
“I thought this was supposed to be funny.” you say beside Bucky, who is sitting with you at the cinema and watching the screen with about as much excitement as you, which was zero.
He chuckles, turning to look at you and nuzzle his nose against your ear, making you laugh. The noise causes a couple sitting a row behind you, a little to your left, to shush you both. Bucky apologies to them with an overexaggerated mouth, which has you hitting his arm and grabbing another piece of popcorn from the bag held in the middle of you two, despite the look on his face.
“Stop eating all the popcorn.” he whispers, diving a hand into the bag and scooping out a handful.
“Hey!” you exclaim as quietly as possible, but it spurs Bucky on to throw what he’s collected of the popcorn at you.
It doesn’t take long for the noise to get rowdy again and the couple shushes you even louder, but they needn’t worry when the security guard makes his way to your row and asks you both to leave. He looks stocky, square shoulders, with a plump mustache above his lip. You have to pull Bucky away when he tries to tell the couple to have a good night in that silly voice of his, where he can’t hold back the laughter that bubbles in his throat.
“You’re such a child,” you tell him once outside, under the moonlit sky. The streets were empty, like they were nearly every night, unless there was an event. “I swear you haven’t changed since the day I met you.”
“And I swear,” he starts, reaching out with his hand, holding you close to him. “You still owe me a dance.”
His smile is so contagious, you reflect back as much giddiness that he’s exuding in your own smile. With a nod from you, Bucky holds you in his arms, hands placed in yours and on your back, as he sways you with him in the middle of the street, humming the song he played on the radio. It felt like that was only just yesterday, but it was much longer than that. Something told you it was in a different era. With Bucky, it almost felt like a different life.
“Was this how you were going to dance with me?” you ask him after a moment of content swaying. “That night on our first date?”
He nods, so focused on you as if nothing else were real. “You told me maybe next time, but I never got that dance.”
You smile at him, leaning forward to brush your nose against his. “And do you remember what happened next?”
You see his smile shine along his lips now, his eyes fluttering down to stare at yours. “You asked if I were too scared to kiss you.”
Nodding, you hum at him. It was the clearest memory you have of him in your mind, and the earliest, seeing as the first meeting is still foggy. He had told you he wasn’t scared at all, but you teased him by walking away before he had the chance. You didn’t really think much of the date at first, seeing as he was this handsome sergeant who smiled at every girl he saw, and thought he mustn’t have thought much of you either with the amount of dates you were sure he had already been on. But he had put a hand on your shoulder before you could get too far from him and when you turned around, he kissed you. It was like fireworks. Bucky had kissed you better than anyone else ever had, and you fell for him.
“What about now, Sergeant Barnes?” you whisper. “Are you too scared to kiss me now?”
“You bet I’m not.” he replies, the same he had the first time.
Then he leans forward and kisses you deeply, still swaying you in his arms like the music could still be heard from his lips.
─────── ⋯ ───────
Bucky’s hair was longer when you woke up the next morning, and although for a moment it was strange, you accepted it pretty quickly. There was something so comforting about playing with his hair and you’re sure he agrees, especially when his lips curl up into a sleepy smile and he hums gently, slowly waking up. The reaction has you feeling that he’s always responded this way. When his eyes meet yours, you’re greeted with blue. They’re dazzling, swimmable. You feel as if you had only seen him in grey before. But now... now you see him in color.
“It suits you,” you whisper, admiring him from where he lays.
He smiles, inching closer to wrap an arm around you. “Good morning to you as well.” he chuckles, pressing a warm kiss to the top of your head. “What suits me?”
“Your eyes, they’re blue.”
“They’ve always been blue.”
You know that. Deep down, you know that. It just seemed—no, it doesn’t matter. You were probably just dreaming. Besides, you could look into them all day, that hasn’t changed.
“You okay?” he asks, brushing a hand along your cheek.
His touch is cold, a little colder than you’ve felt him be before. Worried that you hogged up all the blankets, like you so often do, you put your hand on top of his and gaze down the moment you feel something hard, instead of the soft skin you were expecting.
“Your arm...” you almost gasp, but your body doesn’t react like your eyes do.
“I know, I know. I’ll wrap it up during winter. It gets cold.”
Right. No, of course. Bucky has a metal arm. How did you forget that? He’s always had the arm. Or at least, he’s always had it for as long as you’ve known him for. How long was that, again? It seems longer, but shorter. Days. How many days?
His eyes stay on you, waiting for your answer to his prior question. “I’m hungry,” you say as casually as you can.
“Want me to make you some eggs?” he asks, and it’s so sweet that you feel guilty for ever questioning this life.
Nodding at him, he presses another kiss to the top of your head and then slides out from under the covers, shaking the mattress like a rocky wave, that you chuckle at the sudden movement. You join him downstairs after a moment, watching him flip the eggs in the pan over the stove, that normal morning routine settling you.
“Coffee?” you ask him, gently combing your fingers through his shoulder length hair.
He nods in reply and you grab the carton of milk from the counter, stilling the moment your fingers meet the cardboard. And you press them into it.
“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks. “Is the milk bad?”
“No, no. It’s just—” wasn’t it a glass bottle? “I don’t know. I must’ve slept bad.”
Bucky’s hands find your shoulders, gently rubbing into the skin. It’s soothing for the time being, allowing the stress that was beginning to build up inside you slowly ebb away to the floor. You’re completely forgetting about the milk when you feel his lips press onto your neck, causing you to chuckle.
“How about—” he says between another kiss—“we stay in bed all day?”
“That doesn’t sound very productive.” you smile, turning in his arms to gaze back into those deep, blue eyes of his. So colorful. So new.
“I can think of a few productive things we could do.”
“A few?” a raised eyebrow has Bucky biting down on his lip to suppress the huge grin that’s poking against his cheeks. “What about breakfast?”
His hand reaches over to turn off the stove. “We have a microwave.”
Since when?
─────── ⋯ ───────
Sometimes it felt like the kitchen changed overnight. The once grey décor had turned colorful a few days ago, vibrant with splashes of turquoise and oranges, a fruit basket on top of the fridge. Today it was less vibrant, but still colorful. The benches you remember being granite were now a dark oak, ceramic tile on top. You don’t even want to open the fridge to check the milk. Somehow you know it would be different too.
Bucky’s hair was still long, but not styled like it had first been. You would poke fun at him for saying he cared more about his hair than yourself, but he always assured you that you came first, even though that Brylcreem hair cream was within arm’s reach in the bathroom.
“You’ve got everything, doll?” his voice calls from the front door.
You stand still in the kitchen, the basket full of food and drinks hanging on your arm. “You still calling me that, sergeant?” at least that hadn’t changed.
His chuckle reaches you, despite the distance, knocking on the door you had closed whilst deep in thought, and you’re making your way over to him before you can think on the renovation for too long, his arm reaching for your farthest shoulder as he leads you outside. As per usual, there weren’t many people around. It almost seemed a bit of a cheat that you and Bucky would walk the streets so often and so casually, like you both had a hall pass no one else could get their hands on. You never mentioned it, and neither did Bucky. It was better to just accept things instead of question them, like you always had. You’ve stopped voicing them. They always seem to rattle Bucky more than you.
For now, you’re letting the questions sit and wait for you at home. You’re not going to pay them any mind, give them any thought, as you walk with Bucky’s arm wrapped around you over to the hilltop he had always wanted to sit on, just once, and watch the sunset. The plastic containers drum against the inside of the basket as you climb the hill with him, reaching the top when the sky begins to taint itself orange. Bucky lays the picnic blanket he was carrying down on the grass, helping you unpack the food and sit with you comfortably as you both eat in a peaceful silence, watching the sun lower slowly. It was beautiful. If your pondering worries were right, then this was the best thing created in this town, in this moment. Whether that were true or not, you’re thankful for the scenery and having the opportunity to enjoy it, with Bucky by your side.
It’s when the pinks melt into the oranges, casting a simmering red, with half of the sun left peeking on the horizon do you let the silence go, rolling down the hill. “You picked the perfect night for us to do this.”
“Yeah?” Bucky asks, and you notice the way his thumb pushes into the palm of his hand. A nervous tick.
You turn to face him, offering him a kind smile that you hope will ease whatever has him fiddling on the spot. “Yeah. It’s beautiful, Buck.”
His smile twitches, but doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m glad. I wanted this to be perfect.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’ve got this question on my mind, for a while now.” he’s facing the sunset again, his fidgeting still there, tentatively. “I’ve been asking it in my head over and over, but I was too scared to say anything.”
“A question?” was it perhaps the same as the ones you asked yourself, of this life? If it was, you don’t want to scare him off, like you had been too scared to admit in days prior. Reaching over, you comb your fingers through his hair like you do, earning a blissful sigh that finally gives you a genuine smile on those love-stained lips of his.
“About our life here. What it means.”
So it was, then. He was also curious, also puzzled on what this really was, or how you even got here to begin with. It’s more of a relief for you knowing that he feels the same way than if your hunch is right.
“This town... there’s more to it.” he continues. “More that I want from it.” he faces the sunset again, now at its brightest just before it’ll dip under the edge. “We should get married here.”
Bucky feels it, the way you freeze, how your fingers pause in his hair, by the way he turns to look at you so suddenly as if you had yanked at the strands. He watches you with worried brows above those blue eyes that you love so much, the colors that would always outmatch the sunset, much more vibrant and lovely than anything you had ever seen.
“You want to marry me?” it comes out in a whisper, so soft, on the precipice of becoming a sob if you let your heart sink into it deeper. “Why?”
His chuckle grounds you, helps you not to float away with the happiness that rises like helium in your chest. “Because I love you, since the day I met you and everyday that’s passed after that, and for all the days still ahead of us.”
It’s impossible, you tell yourself. Impossible that Bucky could love you, could want to marry you, could want to start a real life with you. It’s impossible because you’re living an impossible life, you’re sure of it, but you don’t even want to take one step into doubting if this right now is real—this man who you love, who loves you back, wants to put a ring on your finger to match his, and to match his heart as well. You never want to think it anything other than real.
“Bucky,” his name comes out teary, happy in surges like a tide. Your hands find his cheeks, softly, with a laugh that spills from your lips. “Yes. Yes, please!”
His face lights up, standing out amongst the sky now turning dark, as he reaches forward and collides into you, knocking over a glass that spills a drink on the picnic blanket, but who could care in this moment? All you care about is Bucky with his warmth that seeps into you as he holds you against him, his face buried in your neck and making you laugh with the vibration of his voice against your skin. All you care about is that one day soon, you’re going to marry Bucky Barnes.
─────── ⋯ ───────
The town was buzzing with life tonight, unlike most nights here. For once, you had knocks on your door and people to say hello to, other than the usual red-head that you would see on occasion. Bucky and yourself had gone shopping, filling plastic buckets in the shape of pumpkins to the brim with candy and chocolates. You had to swat at his hand every time he tried to steal one when you weren’t looking, telling him that they were for the children and not a child like himself.
He looked adorable dressed up in his best version of Aragorn to match your Arwen—something he had insisted upon, seeing as he loved the books so much. His hair definitely was the right length for it. Besides, he looked at you way too happy for you to even suggest a different costume. Do you think we could have a wedding like theirs? he had asked you when you went to re-fill one of the buckets, and you had turned to him to speak a very polite and stern no.
From the days that passed since he asked for you to marry him, you stopped looking for holes in your life, things for you to question. When you went to pour yourself some milk, you didn’t focus on how it was being stored. When Bucky would mention a memory from your past, you didn’t ask him the details that you couldn’t remember. You simply lived day to day with him, trying to push back your worries and your doubts, like a dam blocking a river stream, but you feel like you’re one stick away before it’ll break and flood your daydream. If you don’t pay attention to it, you try to convince yourself, then maybe it will go away.
Tonight was the perfect distraction. It was the one shred of normalcy outside of Bucky himself that you got, like a special privilege just for one night only; the whole town are celebrating, walking the streets, and talking to each other. You hadn’t known there were so many children living here, not even hearing a school bell once. At first you had concluded you had quiet neighbors, but a whole town? No. No, stop it. Tonight you’re having fun with Bucky, your fiancé. No more questions. They’re off-limits for tonight, and if you’re lucky, you’ll be able to keep them behind the dam for a long, long time.
Your hand was clasped with Bucky’s as you both walk down the street, a single plastic bucket full of sweets in your free hands, giving out as much as the children wanted when they asked for some. You had wanted to get out of the house, so the candy-giving has become a sort of meal-on-wheels kind of deal, but Bucky assured you that he liked this better than waiting by the door. It let you see the town lit up in spooky decorations and multi-colored lights, blending into all the costumes everyone wore. Not a single one of them looked handmade. They all looked bought, in good condition, no wrinkles as if they hadn’t been worn once. Push the questions back, you remind yourself.
“Trick or Treat!” comes the excited call of one child, followed by three of his friends behind him, all wearing matching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle costumes. He wore orange.
“Cowabunga, dude!” Bucky laughs, forcing you to press your hand to your mouth to silent the hysteria that was about to come rattling out.
With your hand free from his, now scooping some candy up in them and handing it to the children, they see the shine of the metal.
“Woah!” they all collectively coo, stepping as close as possible to get a good look at it. “Is it real?”
Bucky shakes his head, smiling to himself at how interested they all are with their eyes fixated on nothing else. “It’s just a costume.”
They’re happier now to take the candy, thanking you both distractedly as they’re already ripping the wrappers off to shove a few in their mouth and run back down the street from where they came. Bucky’s chuckle beside you causes you to look at him, linking your hand with his again, showing him that you don’t mind the metal at all. You have grown used to it, anyway.
“Why’d you tell them it was a costume?” you find yourself asking, now curious to the answer after it’s been asked.
“I don’t need the whole town knowing there’s some guy with a metal arm walking about.”
“They didn’t seem to mind.”
“For tonight, because it’s okay to be scary, but what about tomorrow when it’s no longer just a Halloween trick?”
You shake your head, intertwining your fingers with his metal ones, and you can feel them tighten. “You’re not scary, Buck.”
“I’ll never know why you don’t see me that way.” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple and ushering you with him further down the street to hand out more candy.
You were getting closer to the centre of town, somewhere you haven’t been much despite the usual late-night strolls. It always felt off-limits, unless something festive was happening, like tonight, and like that time you had watched the magic show. It’s too foggy a memory to recall the tricks specifically, but there’s a heavy feeling in your chest at the thought of it. You brush it off, focusing back on the present, your eyes scanning over the assortment of haybales and pumpkins arranged in the middle, almost in a neat pile. You’re too far to make out any faces—not that you would recognize them, anyway—but a family in the middle stands out; two kids, two adults. Bucky seems to notice them too with the way you feel him stiffen, his hand tightening a bit too much for your comfort.
“Trick or Treat!” a tiny voice interrupts you, and you look down to see a young girl with a bag open and offering to you, but you see the tears streaming down her cheeks too, even with a smile on her face.
“Are you alright?” you ask, managing to slip your hand out of Bucky’s grip-tight hold, kneeling down to match her height.
“Some candy, please.” she says, but her lip is quivering too much that her voice comes out unsteady.
Before you can ask her another question, a crash from down the way almost about rattles the ground, and you look up in time to see a red glimmer dissipating in the air and the fake tombstones that are broken and crumbled on the ground, two legs belonging to a person just in sight.
“Wanda,” you hear Bucky suddenly say, and when you look up at him he’s already got his eyes on you and opening his mouth to say your name.
─────── ⋯ ───────
“What?” you ask, eyes on blue ones, waiting.
His creased brows ease, returning his face back to neutral, a little head shake being the only indicator that he heard you.
“What?” he shrugs.
“You said my name.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. Just then.”
He scratches a finger on his jaw, squinting his eyes only slightly. “I don’t think so. Are you sure?”
“Yes!” it’s frustrated now, burning out of your mouth brashly. “You said my name just as—” just as what? What even happened? Why are you back in the kitchen? You could’ve sworn you were outside. “I can’t remember.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Bucky steps over to you, his hands outstretched to hold your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gently to calm down whatever spiked your emotions.
You can see images, moments of the past in spots, like a Pollock painting in your mind. Moments of candy, of the night, of a red glow that seems so hauntingly familiar, but a piercing ache wipes the slate clean. “My head,” you clutch ahold of it, shutting your eyes tightly when thinking back on what you saw becomes too painful.
“You need to lie down.”
Bucky only moves you a fraction before you’re shaking your head. “No, I need...” it’s changed again, the town, the house, the kitchen. Since when did you have an electric mixer? Who put the cereal box on the counter? “Milk.”
“You need milk?” Bucky asks, his eyes curiously set on you and confused just as much.
“Yes. I want milk.” you’re out of his arms even though he was ready to get it for you, rushing over to the fridge and swinging it open to see the plastic milk container with a handle, hooking it with your fingers and holding it up for Bucky to see. “Why is it like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“The milk! It’s changed. It always changes!”
The pain thunders against your scalp again and you’re knocking backward into the dining table, hands back to the sore spot, the milk container now discarded on the floor with the lid twisted open and milk spreading along the tiles. Bucky rushes to your side, his knees pressed down and pants beginning to soak. His hands are placed on either side of your face, tilting upward for you to look him in the eyes.
“I can’t remember.” you say weakly, feeling hot tears you hadn’t realized were there now running down your cheeks. Bucky’s fingers brush them away, soothing you with a hush and pulling you into his chest to wrap his arms around you. “I can’t remember anything but you.”
“It’s okay,” he says, rubbing his hands against your back. “Take a deep breath. It’s okay.”
His nose nuzzles above your ear while he speaks comforting words, helping you to calm down from what you can only assume was a miniature panic attack. The reason behind it is lost to you, spilt on the floor like the milk, waiting to curdle with the question. It’s as sickening as the scent, but you take deep breaths like he had told you to, gripping onto his shirt and wishing to forget. Rid the questions, rid the pain, just keep Bucky. He’s standing still, the world is buzzing, his warmth is a comfort amongst the instability. Remember that. Remember. Forget.
“I’ll cook you some eggs.” he says, muffled with how tightly you’re both wrapped around each other.
You nod silently, still holding onto his shirt when he pulls back from you, showing him a trying smile when he wipes the rest of the tears away. He asks you again if you’re okay and you nod more firmly this time, already forgetting why you had gotten so mad in the first place. The feeling of his lips against your forehead settles you back to the moment, and you’re apologizing as you look over the mess on the kitchen floor.
“No use crying over spilt milk.” he says, earning a breathless chuckle from you as he helps you to stand, then telling you to go have a shower while he cleans everything.
When you’re washed and calmer from the heat of the water, you’re padding back into the kitchen with a comfy bath robe over your clothes that you didn’t know you even owned, smelling the eggs Bucky is cooking, and arriving just as he’s scooping them from the pan onto the plate. When he notices you from the corner of his eye, he smiles brightly at you, making you wrinkle your nose in a smile as a reply and sit down on the chair he pulls out for you, him sitting next to you a moment later.
He doesn’t say a word, merely lets you sit beside him and eat in silence, giving you time to catch your breath from the events of the morning. You’re thankful for it, how he’s so understanding and loving. Again, he seems too good to be true.
When you’re finished your eggs, you’re intertwining your fingers with his and resting your chin on his shoulder. It feels familiar. “What colors are we gonna have?”
“What?” he questions with a chuckle, looking at you as best he can.
“For our wedding, what colors?”
“How about red?”
“Red?” you’re smiling widely, sitting up. “What kind of red?”
“Something dark, like a burgundy.”
“Burgundy red, huh? I guess I can make an exception.” when you reach for his hair, content to run your fingers through those long strands, you’re met with nothing. Your hand goes past air and you notice that his hair is shorter, like from the start. Or as far back as you can remember.
No questions. It’s unsettling, but it’s normal. It has to be. You want this life to be normal, more than anything you’ve ever wished for before, even if that means lying to yourself in order to believe it. You love him. You’re going to marry him. Things will be okay because you have each other. This is your life, your real life, and it’s shared with—
Him. The man sitting beside you, with your fingers locked with his, is a stranger. It’s like a veil lifts from your face, showing you the reality, and a cruel one at that; you don’t know this man. His face speaks of the same realization as you, the two of you slowly pulling away from each other and taking in your surroundings. Then, just as quick as you notice the change, the dam breaks. Now you’re flooded with the answers to your questions, and you’re frightened that the weight is going to drown you.
“It’s fake,” you whisper, the strength of the truth knocking the voice out of you until you’re swallowing a lump in your throat, like an air bubble under water. “It was all fake.”
His face—Bucky, you remember the name Bucky—pinches in itself, turning stern, nothing of the warmth that you had been made to believe. He looks at you with cold eyes, not the deep blue ones you remember getting lost in so often. It makes you sick to your stomach thinking back on mornings laid beside him, skin and hands you grew to know. You stare at him a moment more until it’s too much, and you’re stumbling out of the chair and running for the door, breaking out of the prison you were forced into. The relationship that wasn’t willing, the—oh gosh, the marriage. You were going to marry him!
Everything becomes too much, swirling around your head like the buzzing you likened to the town, thundering down so harshly on your shoulders that you’re knocked down to your knees, hands flat on the concrete and scraped, but the pain means nothing compared to what you’ve discovered, now retching the eggs from breakfast onto the front lawn. Tears prickle your eyes as you suck a rigid breath in, steadying yourself as you grip onto the grass. As soon as you feel hands on your shoulders, you’re scampering to the side and out of the hold that belongs to Bucky.
He’s crouched on the driveway, right beside where you had been, his hands still outstretched in the air like your shoulders were still under them, a wide and apologetic look in his eye. His face looks softer, not like the cold front you were met with the moment whatever sick spell Wanda had you under was broken. For a second, you see the Bucky you knew in your fake life. The Bucky you had loved.
“This is so messed up.” you breathe out, bringing your hands up to hold onto your head but noticing the cuts from the concrete before they can make it there.
“Let me help with that.” he says, a voice so familiar and yet so chilling at the same time.
He’s trying, you can see that. It’s not just in the way he’s looking at you, like a lost puppy looking for their owner, but the way his voice is steady, gentle. Still trying to be a lover to you, even though you both know the truth. The effort is reassuring enough, after all, you did know him. Maybe not this Bucky, not the real him, but the Bucky who danced with you in the street and took you to the hilltop to watch the sunset. That Bucky was what brought you to nodding your head, letting him help you up and back inside the house. Your house. You had forgotten, you bought this house with your own money, with the intention to start a new life here. How ironic.
You take it all in when he leads you back into the kitchen, sitting you down and fetching the first-aid kit from under the sink. He moves effortlessly around the room, grabbing a fresh tea towel from the drawer and mindlessly placing a cup back into the cupboard over the stove, before sitting down beside you.
“You know your way around.” you comment, voice still a bit rough, watching as he takes out the antiseptic and bandages.
He looks up at you like a deer caught in headlights, a faint dusting of pink growing on his cheeks. “I’ve gotten used to it. This place is...?”
You know what he’s asking. “Yeah, my house. That’s probably why I noticed the changes more than you.”
It looks like he’s going to say something, but changes his mind. Opening the bottle of antiseptic, he asks for your hands, laying the tea towel on his knees under them, counting you down before pouring it over the cuts. You hiss, watching it drip onto the tea towel, feeling the sting burning into your blood, but also feeling Bucky’s thumb rubbing against the back of your hand, soothing you as best he can as he cleans the cuts. When he’s done with that, he’s ripping the bandages open and placing them delicately on your skin, wrapping it around snuggly and tying it off.
“Thank you.” you cut your sentence short of his name, not sure how it would feel in your mouth now.
Bucky nods, packing the first-aid kit up, folding the tea towel, no longer looking at you. He used to seek out your eyes, hold their gaze because he would be so lost in them, or simply to show you that he cared, but he’s avoiding them now at all costs. He’s paid his due, you’re thinking, and now it’s over. As it should be.
“So,” breaking the silence, your voice firmer. Why you want to keep talking to him, to keep him here longer, is beyond you. “Wanda messed with our feelings. They weren’t real. Right?”
He nods again, this time accompanied by a curt hum. You want more, you want him to talk to you. Strangers you are, that’s for sure, but he doesn’t need to treat you like one, like he hasn’t kissed you breathless more than once before. How could you just forget that? It happens before you can stop yourself, your foot knocking into his to tell him, hey, say something! He blinks at you and you can see the cogs turning. You hate how you can read him.
“Looks like we can cancel the wedding.”
Out of all the things he could have said, he chose that? There’s no hope for this now, whatever this is. You gave it a shot, that’s the least you can say. You tried. Maybe if he fought a bit, said no, my feelings for you are real, then maybe you would be prepared to let him stick around, give him the couch to sleep on, and see where things go from there. Any spark of that happening is long gone.
Shifting awkwardly in your chair, you look to the side. “Yeah, I guess so. Good thing we didn’t buy anything red.”
“Burgundy red.” he agrees, pressing his thumb into his palm. That’s one thing you know is real, his nervous tick. “I’m sorry.”
“I wasn’t ready to get married.”
“Right,” he clears his throat. “But for everything, I mean. I’m sorry.”
A nervous tick of yours starts up, fiddling with your hands, drawing a finger down the bandages. “You didn’t know.”
The guilt is clear on his face, his jaw set in a way you haven’t seen before. He’s had no reason to look that way until now.
“What happens now?” you ask. “Surely others have realized. Can we...?”
There’s his eyes, looking at you with raised brows, prompting you to continue your sentence. But you stay silent, so he finishes it for you. “Can we leave?” he nods. “You mean me.”
“Bucky,” it’s the first time you’ve said his name outside of the illusion, feeling heavy on your tongue. Your fingers touch his knee, quietly asking him to stay. Why? Because, you realize, fake or not, you need him.
He stands abruptly before you can say anything else, chair pushed back, moving away from your touch like it burned him. He’s on the other side of the kitchen in seconds, running a hand through his short hair. It’s now that you notice his left arm, the metal arm, is covered with a glove.
“Look, we don’t need anything from each other. We’re strangers. What happened wasn’t real.” his words cut you deep, though you know the truth of it already. They’re acid in your veins. He pauses a moment, not meeting your eyes, before setting his mind on the very next words he speaks. “I’ll see what’s going on, then I’ll leave. You won’t ever see me again. I promise.”
“Wait,” the urgency fizzles in the air when Bucky is already sprinting to the front door, halfway down the driveway when you make it there after him. “Bucky!”
He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t stop to let you speak. He’s down the street, too far for your voice to reach him, and it shatters you that he did that to you; he just walked out of your life as if you hadn’t spent more than one with each other already, as if you hadn’t planned for more. And what did he leave you with? Consolation? A mutual decision? No. He didn’t even include you in it. All Bucky has left you with is an empty house, filled with ghosts of him.
You could cast them out with how loudly you scream once you’re back inside, standing with a view to the kitchen that’s too big for one person anymore. There’s nowhere you can step that he hasn’t been. The house wasn’t just yours anymore, it was his as well. The only thing you managed to have that you wanted for yourself, a real want, was a life in between these walls. You moved here for it and you got it, but now it’s gone. It ran away with Bucky down the street. How could he do that to you? If he happens to come back, to let you know what he finds out, then you’re going to wring his neck the moment he steps through that door.
Yet, the anger subsides as soon as you hear the door open later in the day, having been sitting on the couch, biting your nails, and waiting for an answer, either from him or Wanda, or somebody. You’re meeting him in the hall, his boots skidding on the floor when he sees your face, stopping like he was surprised you were still here. As if you would be anywhere else. You wait for him, watching as he blinks at you, giving him time to gather himself. He takes one step forward, then stops. You wait. He takes another step.
“She’s letting everyone go.” he starts, and you can feel that this is building up to something. “The town. She’s leaving.”
“Are you leaving too?” the question jabs him, just forcibly enough that you see his face react.
“Yeah, I’m leaving too.”
You were worried he was going to say that. The honesty pricks you, hearing it so blunt like that, already feeling the tears building up again, but you’re fighting them not to fall.
“You can go back to your normal life, just like everyone else. Things will go back to how they used to be.” that’s not what you want, though. He swallows thickly, adverting your gaze for a moment. “I was never a part of that life. There’s no room for me here anymore.”
Yes, there is! You want to scream it at him. He lived here with you, he loved you. Of course there’s room for him. But it’s what he says next that settles his decision deep into your chest, like a knife. “I have my own life to get back to.” without you, you’re sure he was going to add.
“Well,” it’s quick, forcing away the sadness, as you step forward and offer your hand. “Goodbye, then.”
It’s silent as he stands there, but he doesn’t keep you waiting, no matter if it seemingly knocked him back a few ranks, shaking your hand with his right one; the hand that had traced patterns on your arm, that held your cheeks, that led you through midnight dances when neither of you could sleep. Now it’s just skin.
“Will I remember?” you ask, hoping for one good thing.
“Yeah,” he nods. “We all will.”
Somehow you don’t know if that is good or not, but you try to make it work. “I’m going to find the song.”
The change in topic obviously confuses him. “What?”
“The song you would play on the radio, the one we danced to. I want to listen to it again.” he watches, waits, thinks on what you said, and there comes the damn tears again. “It wasn’t all bad.” you whisper.
Finally, he’s stepping toward you, shaking his head. “No,” his hands place on your cheeks, so familiar, so perfectly fit to be there. “It was good.”
You’re nodding with him, smiling through the few tears that fall, leaning into his hand when his fingers brush them away. So gentle. He’s always been gentle with you. You’ll remember that most of all, amongst the laughter, the kisses, the touches. Bucky isn’t a stranger, he’s the man you love. Even with this life on the tether of collapse, ready to crumble into dust, you fear that you’ll always love him.
There’s a light coming from outside, you can see it nearing the house through the window, but your eyes stay on him. You see the way his jaw clenches, knowing that it’s coming too. You don’t have to ask, you already know it’s whatever was keeping this place caged, now inching it’s way to let you go. It’ll let Bucky go, too.
“I need you to know,” he says, getting closer still. Your hands go to the base of his neck, fingers playing with what hair you can reach, wanting to feel them one last time. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“And you for me.” you tell him, truthfully. “It was love at first sight.”
There comes his smile, the one that brightens the room. It pushes past the tears he’s crying too, creasing his face in one last picture that you will always carry with you, a memory you want to frame on the wall because it’s honest.
“Right?” you ask, knowing it for yourself but needing to hear his voice affirm it before the light can reach you both and take him away from you for good.
His eyes flicker down to your mouth, but he presses his forehead against yours, knowing the boundary. “Yeah,” he whispers, a final brush of his finger against your cheek to assure you that it was real; all of it, and all of him. “Love at first sight.”
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a/n: epilogue? this got long.
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