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1800jjbarnes · 5 months

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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟒: 𝐂𝐮𝐦 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲/𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐦 - 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ◇

My, My, My

【Synopsis】 : Stevie couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, he felt himself grow heavy in his slacks. You were everything he needed. And he needed you now.

『W.C』 : 1.94k

-> Genre: Pure Smut. No plot woops.

Paring: Switch/DomLeaning!Steve x Switch/SubLeaning!Reader

[Warnings] : This is messy. Cum eating. Unprotected sex. Making out. Swearing. Multiple orgasms. Dirty talk. Pet names. This is one big sticky mess, hehe.

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Even though he's never shown it, Steve is a sensitive man. In more ways than one. His cock always felt so full, day in, day out and most of the time he had no control over how much of a mess he makes each time he came. He normally can keep it on the down low, fucking his fist night after night to get it all out of his system by the next morning.

He would spend most of his time wishing for more. But alas, he accepted the cards he had been delt. Being from the 40s, he had grown to notice the difference between women back then 'til now. They were all so much for confident, and proud. Not that, thats a bad thing. Its just Steve...he's intimidated.

But then you showed up in his life.

Such a pretty, perfect, shy, little you... he could feel himself be constantly wet. Precum soaked his boxes every time you were around. Your smile, the way the smell of your perfume was the most delectable scent he’d ever had the pleasure of inhaling. Even just the way you walk, or sit, or jump around. When you get shy around him and blush like a little flower... And don't get him start on your laughter... Fuck.

You were a walking sex dream to him and he knew he was done for.

When he first got to finally have you, he was making out with you in the hallway in the compound. The floor that belongs to yours, his and Bucky’s room. But things lasted very short as he had to sprint suddenly away without another word to you making you feel a slight thing of guilt in your gut thinking that you might have caused something wrong, since you weren't the most experienced person...

But in truth, he wasn’t about to look you in the face and tell you he just came in his pants alone just from kissing your plump lips. He felt more embarrassed at the fact you were able to make him come without the need to touch him. It took every fibre in his being not to whine out a shaky deep groan while he felt your lips so desperately on his. He had his hands squeezing your hips a little tighter than before while his cock started to throb painfully in his slacks. He still had to resist the urge to moan out when your tongue laced with his. Making his balls tighten before his cock ultimately started pumping hot ropes of cum, emptying himself in the now soaked fabrics of his underwear.

He turned the corner quickly, as his chest heaved for more air. His body felt like it was on fire, and he hated himself slightly at the fact he had such a short orgasm. He palmed his cock softly, readjusting himself, hitting his head against the wall when it started to twitch again. It took him everything not to say fuck it then and there and pull himself out so he could finish pumping every drop out until he was dry. or better yet, seducing you to help him.

And if kissing was going to be his problem. Then he was afraid of how’d he would handle having you naked for the time in front of him. Would you want to take the lead? Or would you have your legs spread for him to do as he pleased. He wouldn't mind either to be honest.

And the first time he did finally manage to built up the courage to bed you. He didnt expect himself to be lying on your bed while you sat on your knees at the end. Your bit your swollen lip while you eyes his naked form, focusing on his broad, beefy legs that were spread apart wide enough to welcome you inbetween them. He was a sticky mess, cum painted all over the head of his cock, dripping onto his navel deviously. He was wishing for just one ounce of control when you two were making out prior to this, nearling busting his nut when he felt you whimper against him.

God he didnt know how to function, feeling embarrassed about himself but again. He had no idea just how much you loved him like this. Yes, you were a shy sweet thing but behind closed doors. You lived for the pleasure. To please. And the way Stevies cock jumps and aches as he watched you remove each article of clothing. It was a site you revealed in.

The second you were completely bare, his moans would become greater, louder. When you placed your hand on his naked thigh his breath would hitch, balls growing heavier with every breath.

“You okay Stevie?” You cooed, kissing his inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine, the way he tensed and the smell of his delicious natural scent would bring an ache to your soaked cunt, making you squeeze around nothing, needing him desperately.

“I'm fuck...hmngg sensitive..” He tried to tell you, looking at you with pleading eyes while his cock throbbed, torn between needing you to keep touching him and pushing far away from you, fearing he loses control and comes all over your pretty face that was only mere inches from his angry tip. He’s not a virgin, that most people new for sure but he’s never gotten head before nor been with anyone in so many years. And he knows he’d fill your mouth the minute you wrap your plump lips around him and fuck your face until he was blowing his load down your throat.

“You want me to such your dick, sir?” Your voice was laced with seduction making Steve gulp an obscene amount of saliva. he felt so high, gritting his teeth at your words. You made it out to seem he was in charge when you could very well grab his cock and make him do whatever your wanted.

“Fuck, I think I'ma cum.” It was not a might in this situation...it was a definite yes. He was about to bust just from your hot breath brushing against him. but Steve wanted to hold off. He needed to hold off.

Keeping his self-control as much as he could. He wanted to be that hard, confident man that everyone thinks he is. But in truth, his cheeks were tainted with a pink hue, gasping as you took his heavy balls in your mouth suckling with determination. “Wait, Baby, please...hunngmmm I hang on...”

He needed to be inside you. He couldn’t cum without feeling what your cunt felt like first. His precum touched your lips, licking up all the come that was on his thigh and tummy from his previous orgasm. His eyes bore holes in you as he watched you quickly and sensually swallowed his load. You opened your mouth, showing him you ate every drop. Whichmade him snap, man-handling you until you found yourself on top of him, with your chest pressing against his. You breast squished, nipples tingly at the roughness of his scared skin.

He doesn’t give you another second to think nor protest as he pushed his cock in one quick thrust. Planting his feet, before thrusting into you harshly.

“Fuck Stevie!!” You squealed at the feeling of his balls hitting your ass, while his fat thick cock stretched you open wide. He clung onto you tightly, groaning into your neck, biting your shoulder to hide his high-pitched 'ffuuckkkk'. The feeling of your tight cunt was too much and his strokes were becoming sloppy and unsteady very quickly.

“Fuck I-hmg m’need to cum!!” His back arched off the bed while his head had been thrown back against the soft pillow. “god! Shit, shit. Fuck!” he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting, holding onto you while your cunt began to burn with overstimulation as he empties himself deep inside you, feeling as though his orgasm was unending. you squirted around him, liquid going everywhere, from your and his legs to all over the bed. Staining the sheets beneath you both.

“Steve!!” You whined, your greedy soaked cunt kept pulling him back in, with his cum spilling around his cock, splurging out the sides onto his thighs, making him even more sticky then when he began.. “You’re m-making a mess, pplease…” His eyes rolled back at the thought of your warm white cream that now covered your pussy, his cum painting you, decorating you both. Oh, how it made his cock throb more.

“I know-I know baby, fucknng I can’t stop!” He grunts, now hiding his face into your neck again, his arms nearly limp and aching from holding you so tightly while his hips never stop their attack. His rut. All these obscene squelching sounds echoed louder and louder with each pump. “I don’t know what’s w-wrong with me. Fuck my cock…i need to cum. More... Too much cum.”

He couldn’t control himself anymore, all these lewd voices spilling from his tongue, you moaned in response feeling yourself grow closer to a new high another high.

Steve kept growling random words along the lines of 'fuck, shit, i need to cum. Your cunt feels so good.' The list went on. Rolling over so he was now on top, but still keeping his cock tucked inside you, he ground his hips slowly, humping his abused length in as far as it would go while keeping his face in your neck, biting your shoulder for good measure. “feels so good, you make me crazy. So fucking hard. It hurts. M’sorry baby Sugar.”

“It’s okay.” You try to calm your lover, “I’m yours.” The minute the words slipped off your tongue you realized the grave mistake that was because he groaned, no, he growled like a beast. His cock swelled again, becoming harder if that was even possible at this point, before slamming back into you. Fucking you with a new purpose and new-found strength.

“hmm, Mine you say? Fuck, this body is all mine? Pussy is all mine?” His eyes were feral now with a grin matching it. You feel every ripple, divot and vein as his muscles tense and cock fucks you harder. Your face was flushed as you felt embarrassed from his words. Dirty talk was something you never thought Steve would be into. Yet here is he, making you come apart from his filthy tongue. “Gonna fuck my pussy, empty my cum deep in my pussy, fuck my pussy until I’m fucking dry.”

And he does just that. Panting, grunting. He was feral over how good each orgasm felt and how long they seemed to last. He fucked you until you were a crying, begging mess. Overstimulated and sticky. His mouth became filthier with each orgasm he got out of you and there was no stopping it. He was going to fuck you until there was no more cum to produce.

Finding a new positions, from the floor, the wall, the deck, back to the floor again before ending in the bed yet again. He fucked you until you both were fucked out, tired and had made a mess of the entire apartment.

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bluehourbucky · 1 year

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delicious

pairing: beefy!bucky x reader

summary: you obsessed with buckys thicc thighs

a/n: we've all seen the pictures and I know I'm not the first or the only one who's gonna write this but I have to bc look at him

18+

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT

|main| bucky masterlist|

anyways

bucky loves how affectionate you are and you're not shy about it either.

you're always touching him in one way or another, he likes the attention he relishes in it.

bucky loves that you show everyone that he's yours as much as he is showing people you're his.

but there's one thing that bucky knows makes you feral and he doesn't know why but he knows what.

it's his thighs you're worshiping like there's literally nothing better on the planet earth than his thighs - and there's not according to you.

you love to put your head on his thighs when you two are on the couch and are watching something, it is rarely that you choose somewhere else to lay your head on. apparently they are comfier than pillows.

another thing you love his thighs for is when you're feeling extremely horny and needy you would use his thighs for your own pleasure and never just one because the other one would feel excluded whatever that meant.

what bucky has a love hate relationship with is the way you tease him and it always starts with his thighs.

him driving you somewhere, your hand is in his thigh so close to his crotch but yet so far away.

out and about in public you squeeze it either for the possessiveness or because you seek comfort it's usually the first thing but oh well

dinner with friends is a torture the gentle touches drive him insane and you live for it.

the way you hold onto his thighs when you're riding him makes him absolutely feral.

but his favorite was when you're choking and sucking his cock and the more you do it you start scratching his thighs harder and harder, you're hugging them with every little atom of your body. even before you get to his cock you always and he means always spend a few minutes on marking up his thighs.

bucky didn't know he could love being marked like this so much but he does and it's no surprise his favorite season has become summer just so he could show off your art work.

he doesn't know if you love giving his thighs hickeys more or him receiving them..

bucky hates to admit but he loves when there's other spaces you could sit on, any chair couch bean bag literally anything, you choose his lap, it does wonders to his confidence.

one time when he was feeling a little insecure about his thighs bucky got a long and very pleasant reminder from you how his thighs are in fact the sexiest thighs on planet earth.

and you remind him of that every day.

"doll me and the boys are going out for drinks wanna come?" bucky asks and you check him out and stand up from the couch and walk over to him.

'in those jeans?" you eye him.

"yes?"

"you're not going anywhere in those, you're going to take them off right now also tell them you're not going that you have some unavoidable business to attend to."

and who was bucky to deny you pleasure of enjoying his thighs.

[the end]

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #beefy!bucky #bucky imagine #bucky masterlist #thirstingforbucky #he so big help #bucky barnes smut #bucky oneshot #bucky barnes x reader

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

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What do they know?

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,306

Tags: Pnv!sex, rough sex, outdoors SEX, exhibitionism-ish, Big Dick Bucky Barnes, getting absolutely railed on vacay 10/10, college!au, undernegotiated stuff but they work it out, praise kink, sweet sweet idiot babey Buck, Steve isn’t a virgin but is also an idiot with the rest of the quartet

A/N: This jumped out the ether whoopsie doodle I needed to pretend I actually got to do spring break in college. Don’t play collegiate tennis

Bucky had you pinned up against the side of the house, only hidden by a shower curtain. With his cock shoved deep inside of you, throbbing and hot. One of his huge arms was cradled under your ass to hold you up. It almost made you cum right there thinking about his strength.

But you had to be quiet. Although everyone knew you two were missing from the house. Actually, Bucky had made it his personal goal to fuck you in the most inappropriate places on the spring break trip. You didn’t know about this exhibitionist side of the usually shy member of the friend group.

He moved his hips slightly, thick member dragging against you maddeningly. You stifled your moan, a thin whimper coming out instead. He had your cunt split in half— another fact you weren’t aware of until Bucky decided to ask you out. The guy’s dick was huge, veiny, and should be immortalized in dildo form.

The brunette was grinning ear to ear, blue eyes dark with lust. He cooed, “That’s a good girl- we don’t want anyone to hear do we?” You bit your lip and shook your head, eyes fluttering shut. Bucky tapped your cheek with his other hand, chiding, “No, no, look at me baby.” He pulled out some— the tip of his cock dragging against your sweet spot.

Trembles ran down your thighs, another quiet whimper falling out. You tucked your head into his beefy shoulder, panting, “C’mon, stop playing Buck.” He laughed meanly in return, fucking back into you with a wet slap.

“If I stop playing you’ll start screaming again,” he said all casual, like he wasn’t balls deep inside your pussy.

You were frustrated. It wasn’t enough, you were throbbing and achy and Bucky had been toying with you for about thirty minutes now. He even turned the shower off so you really had to be quiet. Steve was around the corner on the porch, you could hear his footsteps.

Hot tears welled up in your eyes, you blinking instinctively. Bucky stopped smiling, his thick brows knitting together in concern. He carefully pulled your gaze back to him with a big hand wrapped around the side of your face. Your boyfriend asked, “Hey, wait, what’s wrong?”

You whispered, more of a quiet warble, “You’re being mean.” Another annoyed tear ran down your cheek, Bucky swiping it away. He pressed a couple of kisses to the side of your face and whispered, “I’m sorry baby, shit, do you wanna cum now?”

You nodded deliriously, mouth falling open to chant little ‘pleases’.

“Okay, okay, fuck, you better cry for another reason,” Bucky sighed, pressing his forehead to your own.

He slid in and out slowly at first, the obvious noises of people fucking out loud. It made you blush to hear him inside you, begging to turn the shower back on. Bucky cursed but obliged. Once the droplets were raining onto the ground again, the brunette began to roughen his pace.

Your arms around his neck stiffened, nails digging into tanned flesh. His cock was back impossibly deep again, battering against your g-spot and grazing your cervix. You’d never had that happen before and it was causing an intense sensation to build between your thighs.

“Bucky- Bucky, oh my god!,” you whined into his pink lips. He pressed them against your open mouth, swallowing up your noises eagerly. His other hand dropped down to your ass, slapping his hips harder and harder. You felt like a ragdoll, unable to do anything but take it.

You babbled into the hot kisses, scrabbling desperately at his back. Bucky moaned softly, “God you feel so good, being so good, fuck,” his eyes closed before he praised, “Best babydoll ever.” You gathered enough wits to kiss the sweet boy back at that.

More pressure built up in your lower belly from his fucking monster dick catching every sensitive spot in your cunt. He was all fast shallow thrusts now, so much friction your eyes rolled up. Your breath was coming in hitched sobs, calling his name on every other breath.

Bucky’s breathing was ragged against your open mouth, blue eyes blown wide. He grunted with exertion, beginning to twitch inside of you. He crooned against your lax lips, “I know baby, I know, it feels s’good don’t it?” His honeyed tone struck you hard, you mewling pathetically, tears welling up once more.

“C’mon- know you’re close pretty girl.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. Bucky dug his hips in deep, striking your innermost walls just right. You wailed his name, unable to bite back the overwhelming ecstasy. Bucky clamped his hand down on your mouth with a surprised gasp. He growled into your ear, “Goddamn babygirl you can’t do that to me- shshit!”

Bucky sought out his release, gasping and straining for purchase as your cunt milked him. You blubbered behind his hand, orgasm crashing down like a ton of bricks on you. The brunette twitched and whined your name so, so sweetly as he emptied into your pussy.

The pair of you didn’t move for what seemed like an eternity, sucking in breath under the stream of the outdoor shower. Bucky slid out of your abused cunt— both of you wincing. He let you down gentle, steadying you with those big hands. Your legs were shaky and like a newborn foal with the way you stumbled and leaned into Buck’s broad chest.

He smiled down dopily, eyes soft. Bucky rumbled, “Well there’s no way they don’t know what we were up to— you okay babydoll?” His thumbs circled at your waist, a reassuring gesture. You nodded and rasped, “Yeah you ass. You’re carrying me to the bed.”

He grinned widely, teeth shining as he laughed. Your boyfriend peered around, grabbing the earlier discarded swimsuits from behind. Bucky teased, “Almost forgot,” he bent down to help you slide on the one-piece, “I want you to tell me if you’re not okay, promise?”

You nodded, pulling a strap onto your shoulder. Bucky pulled on his trunks, you almost sad to see him clothed again. Pressing a kiss to his still-pulsing neck you replied, “I will- honestly jus’ never been fucked like that.”

“No? Never?”

You shook your head, “Nope. Either drunk hookups or plain missionary where I didn’t cum.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up possessively, him sealing his lips over yours with a soft lick. He pulled back and gushed, “No way- so I’m the first who made you cum?” You rolled your eyes and palmed his softening cock.

“Hard not to with this thing,” you said with a wink, “But yes, Barnes, you are the one and only.”

Bucky kissed you again, smiling helplessly. You wrapped tired arms around his waist and returned the favor. Both of you pulled back and hollered when the shower curtain jerked open with a SCHINK.

A smug Sam and blushing Steve stood on the other side, Nat peered from around the corner from the deck with a knowing look. Sam boasted, “Told you! They been in there way too long!”

Natasha added, “Seriously Steve you’re too pure for your own good!”

Bucky glared at Sam, shoving the fellow junior in the chest. His other arm was still clung tight around your frame. You deadpanned, “Did y’all really have a bet going on?” Steve sputtered, “Yes- look- dammit!”

Clint’s voice came in next, “Did Steve figure out Barnes was plowing our goody-two-shoes?”

Bucky made a face and an annoyed scoff. You started laughing deliriously, frankly high off the rush of the orgasm. Rogers shook his head and returned to the porch along with a cackling Sam. Bucky palmed the back of his head, sheepishly giving you a look. You playfully tugged on his wet hair.

“You’re still gonna carry me right babe?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky fluff #fluff and smut #college au #top bucky barnes

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winterarmyy · 1 year

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Plot Twist | Part III*

An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III* (end) | Extra

Words: 4.8k++ (of mostly filth)

Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, lots and lots of praises, bucky's filthy mouth, tiny hint of wife!kink from bucky, soft!bucky being romantic, fluffy date, reader is quite a menace at the end, honestly.

A/N: This is the last chapter because I didn't really have a long plot for this specific fic. I wrote this fic entirely out of impulse.

P/S: I have no idea what I just wrote for the smut scene; partially because english is not my first language and the rest is because I literally have no experience but I hope y'all enjoy it somehow!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

"Don't hide those noises from me, doll. I want to hear you." Bucky licked a strip up across her gushing pussy before lewdly suckling on her sensitive clit.

"Bucky." she whined so needily as if she hadn't just come on his tongue a few moments ago.

How did they even get here in the first place?

One minute Bucky was proposing to ditch the gala, that's when she decided to bring him to one of the most underrated diners in Brooklyn.

Then somehow, there was Bucky, eating her out as if he was still starving.

"Oh my, Irene is that you?" The way the old lady gasped with excitement as she walked towards the couple; Bucky was assuming she was indeed talking to his wife.

Y/N grinned with a tiny scrunch on her nose, a goofy smile that Bucky never seen before. Entranced, he didn't even notice how his heartbeats quickens, let alone process the fact that Irene was not his wife's name.

"Long time no see, Maria." Y/N didn't hesitate to be engulfed by the warm and welcoming hug from Maria as if she was one of her grandchildren.

The tight squeeze loosen up after a while, followed by a compliment, "You look absolutely stunning, sweetheart." By the way she was looking up and down at Y/N, it seems like she doesn't want to move on from the topic.

But swiftly, a frown formed on her forehead when she realizes, "But why are you having a date at my old rackety diner?" Maria was quick to read the room.

Well, it's not that hard when you see a gorgeous, well-dressed couple walk in together. Him opening the door for her, the shy smile on her lips, any excuse to have his hands on her, glimmer in those eyes of hers.

Of course, it was a date.

"Now, why would I trade some fancy overprized steak with your absolute perfection of a burger? God don't get started on those crispy fries. I've been craving them for weeks!" Y/N could feel her mouth-watering from her own imagination.

"Oh, stop it! You're exaggerating!" Maria chuckles, lightly taping the side of Y/N's shoulder.

"I certainly am not!" Y/N exclaimed, almost animatedly.

The conversation in front of Bucky seemed to be silenced by his own racing thoughts.

Bucky was certain that these past few months being married to Y/N, he already knew her. All her patterns were memorized in the back of his head.

But this was different. It doesn't look like her; at least not the look that she always displayed around their mansion, nor any events they went to.

However, it feels so much like her at the same time.

If she still has other sides and expressions hidden from him, then wanted to see them all.

His hearing started to regain its ability when Y/N spoke, "This is my date, Sebastian. Babe, this is Maria, the owner of this diner." She introduces them.

Bucky leaned forward as he offered his hand, only to be pulled into the similar hug that his wife just received. Maybe he let his guard down, or maybe Maria was just stronger than him to be able to pull him in like that.

"I heard so much about you and this place. Thought nice to bring Irene to her favourite place for a date." Bucky was partially lying. He did promise her that she could choose anywhere she wanted to go to, but at the same time he had no idea this place existed before.

Maria had an approving smile on her face, as if he ticked off several of her checklist for choosing Y/N's boyfriend. She shot a look at Y/N, showing her approval which only made Y/N rolled her eyes.

When they settled in their booth and their orders taken, Bucky started to come up with the first topic, "So, Irene..." he purposely slowed his pace, as if he knew that Y/N would burst into laughter. A triumph smirk curved across his lips, knowing he managed to pull one of her rare laughs.

"...I just wanted to say that I, Sebastian, am honoured to be able to take you on a date this lovely evening." He managed to sound effortlessly posh while saying it, which makes Y/N laugh even more so.

"Oh god, stop, Bucky. It's just us. You don't need to act anymore." Her eyes briefly pointed to their surroundings. Indeed, there was just them and a group of teenagers all the way across the diner.

Bucky chuckled, "Well the way you act just now makes me think you me to stay in character."

"I didn't know that my wife had different identities. Wanna tell me about it?"

Y/N hesitated at first, she wonders if Bucky can accept what she had to say about this, but the anticipation and curiosity in his face seemed to look like he was sincere.

She took a deep breath before letting out a sigh and explained, "People like us can't just go out and about with our family names attached on our faces. We'd be sticking out like a sore thumb."

Bucky thought of what she said for a bit before he asked, "And you hate that? Having my name as part of your identity?" His brow quirked.

She exhaled deeply, "No, I didn't mean it like that, Bucky."

Her hesitation after only urged Bucky to silently demand for further explanation.

She admit defeat as she spoke, "Let's be real our lives are not ordinary. We weren't born in normal society like these people do." Y/N gaze roamed around the few people within the diner. There was this longing in her eyes.

"And I just want to feel what is it like to be one of them. To able to bond other people without greed or malice behind their intentions." There was only truth in her gaze, and Bucky saw that.

"I-- it's like an escape for me. A breath of fresh air if you will." She expressed.

"Like your books? Are they your escape too?" Bucky asked after thinking about how many hours she spent reading.

A fond smile curved on her lips, "Precisely."

He thought deeply before asking, "If you're constantly trying to escape, then what is it that you are trying to run from?" he riddled.

Y/N leaned back to her seat and think of the best way to put her feelings in simple words, "Nothing. I guess that I haven't find something that make me wanna stay in this reality."

"Yet" Bucky didn't mean to say it out loud. It was supposed to be his personal thoughts, but Y/N's eyes unexpectedly lit up, "Yet." She repeated his word, with a hopeful tone behind her natural voice.

The prolonged eye-contact broke when Maria came to serve their food. The conversation after that was nothing too deep, nothing too general. It was the type of conversation that left a light-hearted residue within their chest.

Hours passed and the music resonating from the jukebox seemed to shift into something slow, something more ballad-like. Bucky had an idea. He stood on his feet and walk out of their space while straightening his jacket.

Y/N was confused at first, "Are we leaving already?" was what she thought of before Bucky spoke, "A dance, my dear?"

She trailed the hand that was outreaching towards her, then up to his face. His smile was charming, and the crinkled lines on the side of his eyes were even more endearing.

Who'd knew those small things could become one her little weaknesses. She accepted his offer by grasping on his hand while he gracefully pulled her out of their booth towards the empty space between rows tables and the jukebox.

Bucky pulled her in, even closer than deemed necessary. She followed his lead; fingers laced lightly with each other's. His other hand rests right above her backside. And hers on one of his shoulders.

Though both of them didn't have a clue on how to dance but it didn't stop them to naturally fall into step and let the rhythm control their movements.

Everything else around them; the diner, the people, seemed to dissolve with time. It felt like there was just him and her, alone. Only the sounds of their heart beats and the music that remained.

People in the diner sat on their seats; watching the couple swayed along the melody of the song; couldn't help to admire the sight in front of them.

Even the bunch of teenagers on the other side was suddenly intrigued, some of them gawked and squealed at them, others didn't waste any time and started pull out their phone to record the moment.

Bucky leaned in as he whispered her name. She looked up in respond, with a smile spread across her beautiful face and eyes curved into upside down crescent moons.

A storm of uncontrollable emotions surged throughout Bucky's body, and his nerves tingled in delight. His brought his hand towards her face and brushed his thumb across her cheek.

His body was acting on its own as all the restrains he locked himself before vanished into thin air. Nothing was holding him back from this slice of paradise.

Her eyes glistened the moment Bucky's thumb pressed against her soft lips. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. Do you know that?" He whispered. His eyes searched her features as if he can't believe that his wife was real.

Her lips parted as a laugh escaped through her mouth; it seems to be that she doesn't believe him. Though the truth was clear, and yet somehow she couldn't see it.

"I'm serious, doll. You don't know how gorgeous you look right now." Her cheeks deepen in the colour of rose.

Bucky drew her close to his chest, so close he could feel the warmth of her body; while she wrapped her arms around his neck, tip toe-ing towards the side of his face. He could smell the delicate perfume on her.

Her lips went to his ear as she whispered ever so softly. "And you're such a flirt, do you know that?"

She returned to her original position, looking up with mischief gleaming in her eyes. Whatever spell did she just put on Bucky in that very moment, it certainly work wonders as all he can think about is how her lips feels against his own.

Bucky looked like as if he was in a daze, lips slightly parted, his gaze soften as they fixated on her maroon painted lips.

Y/N seemed to pick up on what's going to happen. Her hands trembled in anticipation; his scent was alluring, almost intoxicating that she might recall this moment whenever she smell this cologne again.

The moment seemed to prolonged but then it feels like the time stops entirely when Bucky pressed his lips on hers. The kiss was delicate, and soft, and passionate and real all at the same time.

Bucky pulled away momentarily only to pull her close again by the back her neck, tilting the heads in opposite direction as he licked her lips for permission in which she gladly comply.

Her hands gripping on the fabric of his shirt that's rested on his chest, holding on to him for her dear life as he stole her breath away.

Soft moans were slipping through the kiss as she felt the delicious burn of his stumble on her skin. Little did she know that, that might just be one of a trigger for Bucky to lose control.

He grunted in disapproval when she pulled away, wanting nothing more than to kiss her again and again and again until both of them forgot how to even breath.

But looking down at her trembling lips, the glaze across her eyes, her shaky breath; Bucky might just turn feral right there and then.

"Bucky..."

Bucky swore that she was whining his name.

"...Take me home."

Which then leads to this very moment where Bucky grabbed her by the waist, pushing her cunt further on his tongue before wrapping his arms around her thighs.

He wants to make sure she's strapped in for another wave that's about to crush her.

He flicked his tongue in an up and down motion, gliding through sensitive bundle of nerves. As if he knew what she like. No, he knows exactly what makes her squirm.

It took him a few orgasms on his tongue to know that she loves those small circles over her clit, those flat licks when he spread her pussy apart, how she much prefer to have her clit played rather than her hole fucked by his fingers, all of the little notes were already buried in Bucky's head.

And oh how divine does she look when she came for him. Bucky couldn't take his eyes off her; he was already addicted her taste, the shudders of her thighs on the sides of his face, and her pretty voice moaning his name.

Why hasn't he done this earlier?

"It's been too long, doll. Should've claimed this gorgeous pussy long ago. Shit." He growled his desire before diving back to her leaking heat.

Wet vulgar sounds echoes within the enclosed space of their bedroom as he devoured her whole. His changing speed really was too much for her to handle, and him gripping onto her thighs was the right choice.

Especially, when she started to squirm upwards, "Oh god Bucky,," moaning as she threw her head back to the soft pillow under her head.

Smirking proud against her parted lips, he pulled her back where she was before, pinning her hips against the bed. He sucks her aching bud into his hot, wet mouth so ferociously she can only gasp to the immense pleasure.

Oh, does it feel good having his mouth wrapping around her pussy like this, while the tip of his dangerous tongue flicking mercilessly on her swollen bundle of nerves.

So good to the point she was seeing stars. Literal stars at the back of her head as her high was reaching for euphoria. The aching pleasure caused her toes to curl and thighs burning, shaking as she cried out his name.

But, he wasn't satisfied yet, insatiably greedy for more, "So sweet, baby. Come on give it to me." He growled against her.

He continued to abuse that cunt over and over as the shameless wailing and chanting of how bad she wanted to come, filling up not just the room but also his pride.

Bucky wants to make her feel each stroke and glide of his wicked, delicious tongue. Feeling the electrifying pleasure surging within her core, her thighs involuntarily started closing around his head.

He can barely breathe from how much she was suffocating him, but he certainly refused to stop.

Not until he ruined that needy cunt of hers.

Over and over, he sucks and pulls while his tongue danced through her until her sanity was close to breaking, body trembling in his hold.

The wet squelches, the lapping of his tongue, her sexy moans. He drowned himself to every single one of them.

"Fuck! Bucky, I'm coming. Please, please please don't stop!" She begged for his mercy even if he never asked for it.

Her moan was getting needier than ever, while her hips jerked upwards to meet his tongue. Her fingers gripping on his soft hair, guiding his through the sweet torturous pace.

Fortunately, she wasn't the only one who was close to an explosive high. Bucky's cock, hard and pulsing, twitched against the constraint of his boxer. Even without any simulation from any kind of touch, his cock was more than overjoyed to come along with her.

And it was all because of her.

From the way she was shamelessly humping against his mouth, using him to get herself off. Gripping and pulling his hair, so she could ride his tongue faster.

Bucky hummed against her clit, before chuckling, "You're already such a good girl, doll. So perfect. You taste..." his tongue licked through her folds, grazing on the throbbing clit. "...Perfect."

A whisper of his name escaped as she gasped into a back arching shudder, head thrown back, eyes rolling, unable to focus on anything other than the pleasure of his tongue.

"Do it." he growled out. "Come for me, baby. Make a mess on my tongue."

That command was all it supposed to take, for her to finally let go but feeling his tongue flicking against her clit was what ripped the orgasm right from her begging pussy.

A loud scream of curses of his name was the only thing she can utter once the orgasm washed over. She let the pleasure unravel from within to every part of her shivering body, until she was left limping on the bed.

"Gorgeous..." he grunted with a horny tone, tongue sliding in between her wet slit, making sure every lick managed to collect the sweet nectar she had bestowed him.

Finally pulling away from between her legs, the lower half of Bucky's face was drenched; his lips glistened with the mixture of spit and slick, dripping down along the chin, down to his neck.

His eyes closed in an euphoric high, tongue licking her cum off his lips before forming a devilish smirk on his face. He looked as happy as a man can be with that smug smile of his.

Bucky smirked at her broken moan, "...so pretty coming for me." he praised ever so endearingly.

He climbed over as he continued to praise what a good girl she was, how well she did, how addictive she tastes, and how he would gladly eat her out for the rest of his life.

Bucky's mouth watered and his cock twitched at the beautiful, yet filthy sight of his wife splayed on their bed; her breasts moved every so gracefully despite her heavy breaths, legs spread apart as he kneeled in between.

Looking down at her mess, he might just want to be greedy and devour her once again, but his cock was much more needy than his anticipated. Right now, he wants nothing more than to feel her tightness around him.

Bucky levelled his face over hers, "Open up, honey." he husked. Still in a slight daze, Y/N blindly followed his temptation, only to feel his lips on her, his tongue settled within her heated cavern.

Every wave and movement of his tongue on hers were purposely slow and gentle. She can feel herself melted into the kiss, even more hypnotized into a dreamy haze.

Bucky pulled away with a rumbling hum, "Taste good doesn't it?" He prompted as he stroked the strand of her hair behind her ear. Y/N can only nod with an approving moan as she relished the gentle caresses on her cheek.

"That's all you, babydoll. Addictive isn't it? So, when I ask for this pussy, you will give it to me. Every single time. Do you understand?" Bucky tighten his gripped on her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.

Her eyes gleamed in ecstasy, "Yes, Bucky." she let out a breathy tone, not trusting that she can keep her moans in if she speaks any louder.

Bucky smiled fondly, "That's my girl." he proclaimed.

"Now, how about making a mess on my cock, hmm? That sounds good to you, angel?" Honestly, it was Bucky who wanted to make a mess in her pussy, but she didn't need to know that for now.

"Yes, please." Y/N answered that way too quick, but she didn't care. The other reason why she was constantly leaking apart from Bucky's skilful tongue, was because she wanted to feel his cock stretching her apart.

Bucky chuckled to her neediness while his hand worked its way to remove his boxers. His cock sprung up to his stomach, with precum spilling from the tip. God he was so wet for her.

"...Hmmm, my sweet little wife had been so so good for me, isn't that right?" He cooed as he pulled her hips to him and lined his cock with her slick entrance that was just aching to be filled.

"Yes, Bucky" She breathed his name, as she looked up to him with full blown lusty eyes. The anticipation for him to plunge inside her needy hole were immaculate. But Bucky loved to edge a little.

"So good to me." Bucky stroked his heavy cock in between her slippery folds; the tip gliding so easily against her clit before proceeding to insert his throbbing length into her, groaning out a pleasurable 'ahhh' when he felt his cock wrapped around her tight, twitching walls, "F-fuck" He nearly whimpered, closing his eyes as he refused to come right when he just entered her tightness.

She gasped in pure ecstasy, feeling his cock in her core.

Bucky stilled as he fully filled her to the brim, letting her adjust to size as he peppered gentle kisses on her face, down to her neck and breasts.

The trembling in her cunt didn't drop its pulse, instead he swore it just increases, "Ease up, baby.. " his mouth wrapped around her nipple, "..or I might come before the fun begins." He mumbled against her breast before giving a harsh suck on her nipple.

That might just multiply the pressure around his cock though.

Even if Y/N knew she might come just by him adjusting the pace, but she didn't care, she craves the friction inside of her, "Buck-- Move please."

She didn't need to tell him twice, Bucky complied quite instantly.

"Oh, fuck!" She whimpered as his cock glide in and out of her at a sluggish pace.

"Fuck you feel damn good, baby," he rasps under his breath, his eyes drinking in every little expression she make. The little nose scrunch, her brows furrow together when he hit the spot deep within her, the way her swollen lips parted only to let out those sinful moans of his name.

"Never stop giving this pussy to me. God, I need this pussy y'hear me? I need it so bad." Bucky was well aware how addicted he was already. And he had no shame on that.

It didn't take him too long to increase the speed which led to him railing her into the bed as her muffled screams filled the room. Y/N sobbed softly to the overstimulating pleasure that started filling her body with Bucky's harsh thrusts. "So good, so fucking good!"

"Mhmm! Too much, I can't" She whimpered. She could feel how Bucky was tearing her apart, spreading her cunt as his cock lunged inside her tight walls, deliciously.

Bucky looks down to where his cock was fucking into her cunt and he shamelessly moaned, loud, deep from within his chest.

He wished she could see the vision in front of him; how her pussy displayed and wide open for his cock as he plunged in and out of her hard.

Gritting his teeth, he fucked her harder, more desperate than before, his fingers digging into her hip.

Y/N was whimpering mad, eyes rolled back mouth wide open, drooling to every thrust Bucky pushed into her. By that point she just had lost every sanity she had in her mind and just wanted Bucky to really fuck the life out of her.

It felt so good.

Too good.

Bucky’s brows knitted into a frown, and his mouth falls open. The deep grunts he was groaning turn into frantic higher pitched moans. His eyes shut, and his head falls back in pleasure.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck for support as her body racked in pleasure from his deep, hard, merciless thrusts. Her body jerked back and forth with his movement.

Their skin on each other; chest touching, the intertwining sound of sinful moans and lewd, wet squelching sound, the whispers of praises uttered for one another, lingered their mind as it gave physical effect to their body.

"A little more baby, please, please— fuckin' take my cock." When was the last time he felt this good? Perhaps never because he couldn't believe how close he was to coming already.

"It feels so good, Bucky."

"Yeah? hmmm, you're handling it so well, honey."

"Yes, yes, yes, -ahh shit, so deep inside me, fuck."

"...Can't believe this pretty little thing is mine."

Those were one of the many, many whispers they had said to each other. They were dirty yet it so sincerely intimate.

Not able to control himself any longer Bucky began thrusting faster than the original pace he had set before, causing her body to thrash around.

She gripped on the bedsheets behind her as he was grunting mad over the way his cock slipped so easily in and out of her tight pussy. The way she bucked her hips to match Bucky's pace, to have more friction between the two.

Oh, it was nastily enticing.

Everything about this moment was passionate and overpowering; to the point where their minds were getting fuzzy.

It's amazing how his body conquered hers like no one had before. Somehow, he knew where all her sweet spots were and how her body would react to them, but he would still be eager to found new ones to tease her right after.

Y/N's body jerked up in pleasure as his cock repeatedly hit her spot. It felt so good, her body to started shake and spasm. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes as the pleasure racked her body with such force she had never felt or known before.

And Bucky was the only one to ever see her like this and he would like to keep it that way.

"Mhmm, can't wait to come in this pretty pussy of yours babydoll. Fuck-- I'm already leaking inside you, baby. You're going to be so full and messy. Don't you want that, angel?" he teased as he thrusted in and out of her, groaning.

His thumb manage to find its way to play with her sensitive clit, not wanting to neglect that poor needy thing.

Feeling electrified from both his drilling cock and the way he was skilfully rubbing her clit, she squirmed and whined out unintelligible words, somewhere in between moaning his name and something about dying.

Bucky chuckled an amused laugh, somehow he managed to understand her words perfectly.

He removed his other unoccupied hand from her hip, and went to grab her both of her hands, placing them above her head. Restraining her wrists as he continued to fuck her hole; deeply, deliciously.

His body hovered over hers and their pupils dilated as their hot breath danced upon each other's skin. His erotic slid in and out of her cunt with such ease and his strong hands held a hard grip onto her contained wrists as he felt his orgasm arriving.

She felt the same familiar knot in her stomach just aching to be released." oh -oh god, Bucky. I'm gonna come!" she cried out.

"That's right, fucking cum for me!" he groaned out as he pressed his finger a little rough on her throbbing clit.

She shivered and gasped as she could feel her excitement gush out of her pussy as Bucky continued to fuck her through her high. Obscene wet noises coming from between her thighs.

And oh how Bucky relished the feeling of her walls clenching and twitching uncontrollably around his cock, licking his lip as he watched her wet juices spurting out of her pussy, drenching him more than be it was before.

"Feels fucking amazing to be inside you when you come like this, doll. So wet and tight for me..." he praised, getting replies of 'thank you's from her; she sounded delirious but that only ignites the feral in Bucky.

"...F-fuck I'm coming." His cock twitches violently. "Coming inside you, my pretty little wife. Fuckk--" His body jolted, eyes opening for just a second before they rolled shut as his hips snapped forward.

He came with a loud cry of her name, hips stilling as ropes of hot and slick cum shot out of his cock. His hot seed spread over her walls, filling her nice and full, sending shudders down her back.

Y/N can feel how he throbbed inside as each pulse of the delicious sensation came along with the ropes of cum that shoots from his cock.

He sighed as he thrusted his cock with a few more slow and lazy thrusts, letting her twitching walls milks the rest of his cum.

Bucky, soon slowly pulled out of her; she hissed as felt his cum dripping out, down to her asshole. It's a shame that he pulled out quite early than she expected; Y/N wished he could stay inside a little while longer.

He leaned down to spread multiple of soft kisses all over her face. Praising every little thing about her. Bucky thought of giving her the softest after-care she well-deserved after such a long night.

But when she looked up at him with those pair of lust-blown eyes, he never thought those words would've come out from her mouth, "Want more, please Bucky?" her tiny hand managed to grasp on his semi-hard cock, before rubbing his tip on her cum-filled hole.

Bucky never been that hard within that short amount of time. He grunted in pleasure when she pushed herself on his cock.

He let out a breathy chuckle as he cock reached the deepest part of her, "What a plot twist you are, doll."

End.

<< Part II || Extra >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Even if this is the last chapter, I’d still love to hear from you! 🤍

#winterarmyyfics #plottwistfic #mafia!bucky #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au #mafia!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x reader #arranged marriage #husband!bucky #beefy!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you

1K notes · View notes

bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

Text

Day 30 — Double Penetration

Pairing || Beefy!CatholicPriest!Bucky x Inexperienced!Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 4400

Contents & Warnings || Smut, Dark/Taboo Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, non-con, explicit content/language, pet names, religious themes, blasphemy of religion, sacrilegious acts, biblical references, sexual content involving a catholic priest, strict/religious parents, age-gap (Reader is early 20s, Bucky is early/mid 30s), Father kink, priest kink, size kink, corruption kink, authority kink, inappropriate/forceful touches, begging, double penetration (in two holes), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration with sex toy, anal play, anal fingering, anal sex, intense orgasm, squirting, no loss of virginity, mention of bodily fluids.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Kinktober Masterlist

Every Sunday after mass, you would happily accompany Father James in tidying up the church.

It had become a routine—a secret ritual almost for you and him to clean and organise, which would inevitably lead to him creeping up behind you, disturbing whatever you were doing, so that he could continue his corruption on your body and soul which he had done so for the past few weeks now.

But this time, it was different. This time, as soon as the town had said their blessings and goodbyes to Father James, he was right on you with his wicked plans and corruption—tidying not on his agenda for today.

“Come,” he held out his colossal hand for you to take, but all you did was stare at it in confusion with big soft eyes. His face held no emotions—not the wicked kind nor the sweet kind which he indeed possessed as well at rare times, making it hard for you to read him on what his intentions were.

“Um, a-aren’t we going to clean a-and tidy up, Father?” You mumbled.

He shook his head no while a hint of a smirk twitched on his lips—revealing that his purpose for you may be unholy and ungodly after all.

“Not yet. Now come with me.” He further extended his hand to you, insisting that you take it and let him lead the way.

You hesitated only for a second or two more before you lay your smaller shaking hand in his larger grip—not wanting to disappoint Father James in any way if you didn't do as he willed. His tender hold on contrasted with how he usually handled you—determined and forceful.

You weren't able to revel in the sweet touch for too long before he pulled you with him—through the nave, up the altar, into the sacristy and up the stairs that led to the second level of the holy church, which you had never been to. He stopped in front of a door and let go of your hand before he pulled out a key from his front pocket.

You stood a few steps behind him, fidgeting with your fingers and looking down at your shoes as he unlocked the door. The heavy wooden door creaked as it opened, and you peeked up to see what was held behind. It looked to be a room—his room, his sleeping quarter.

Why had he brought you here?

“Please, come inside,” he smiled warmly at you as he presented his arm into the room, gesturing for you to enter.

You dragged your feet across the creaking floor while still looking down, shy and not daring to look up at him as you entered the room and came to a halt in the middle of it. He closed the door behind himself, and you turned your head slightly to glance at him, still with the same warm smile on his handsome face.

“It's ok. You can look around if you'd like. I'm just going to grab something.”

“O-ok.”

Your eyes scanned around to take in his personal space. It looked pretty generic and boring—not much going on in the small room except for a desk, a wardrobe and a bookshelf. What did catch your eyes almost immediately was the bed in the corner, and you were intrigued to investigate closer. Your legs carried you effortlessly to it, and you stood at the foot of the bed as you examined the space further.

A bible lay on the side table, along with some personal books and his rosary beads. Jesus on the cross hung on the wall; looking down at what you found the most interesting—his bed. The white linen was ruffled, and the pillow still had an indent from his head lying upon it. The faint aroma that exuded was that only of Father James—a musky scent of heaven or perhaps even hell. Your mind started to wander to scenarios other than him sleeping in the bed—reading, praying, touching himself.

You hitched an inhale as you thought about it—him lying naked on the soft sheets, writhing in pleasure as he touched and pumped his thickness—heavy moans and groans bouncing across the walls as he neared his end. You wondered if you and he ever pleasured simultaneously late at night, reaching that heavenly state together.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of creaking wood slowly approaching. A growing sinful manifestation lurked behind you as Father James neared where you stood. Not even looking at him, you could tell that that sweet and warm smile he displayed when you entered his room was long gone, replaced with his signature wicked smirk that meant corruption and authority.

His broad torso ever so lightly grazed your back—a significant contrast to the way his hand grabbed your clothed hip in a harsh grip, making an inaudible gasp slip from you. His lips ghosted your earlobe, and his warm breath made your skin tingle in fear and excitement.

“You still won't let me corrupt your innocence, huh, sweet thing?”

He's been on you for weeks, practically ever since you and he started your sexual adventure together, about your virginity—wanting to take and destroy it, but you still couldn't find the nerve to go through with it, even though your primal urges begged and yearned for it. It was just too deeply ingrained in you that sex before marriage was a great sin and, definitely, a one-way ticket to hell in doing it with a man of God.

“I-I can't, Father, I-I just can't. I'm sorry….” you mumbled in shame—ashamed once again that you couldn't give him the satisfaction of taking your virginity which he so desperately desired.

“It's ok,” he murmured before kissing behind your ear. “There are still lots of ways for me to have your body and holes while still keeping your purity,” he growled against your neck as he skimmed his lips on your sensitive skin, making your whole body shudder. He pulled you flush against his broad torso while his hand that held your hip crept downwards to grope your covered core, making you sob at the cruelty of his grip.

“Will you let me do as I want, sweet thing?”

“I-I–”

He chuckled at your struggle to find words to speak your mind. “I'm going to do whatever I want either way. Whether you want me to or not,” he spoke, and before you knew it, you were tossed down frontal onto the soft mattress by Father James' forceful hand, making you gasp at the unexpected action.

He pressed his heavy weight on you as he pinned you further down—trapping you so there was no chance for you to escape his wicked grasp.

“W-what are you doing, Father?” You sobbed in fear as this was quite a new scenario he'd ever put you in, and there was no telling what he could do to you in this power stance.

He kissed your cheek lovingly, but the words he uttered against your heated skin were nothing but evil and impure. “I may not be able to take your virginity, but my God, sweet little thing, am I going to defile your precious soul in another way. I'm going to fill both your pure and innocent holes up until I have you a pretty and whiny mess for me on my bed. I’ll have you riveted in such extraordinary pleasure that I'll make you see God, trust me.”

You've never heard him utter such filthy words before. Frankly, you didn't even quite know what he meant by some of them, but with the way you felt your panties dampen with arousal and excitement, had you know that your body had a strong desire for this, despite your mind not being entirely on board with the idea.

“B-both h-holes?”

“Yes,” he growled through gritted teeth as he started to hump his covered front against your backside, his hardness rubbing against you, making you softly moan in need. “But don't worry, my sweet little thing, I won't stick my cock in your tiny little innocent cunt. But I will stuff your pussy with this.” He held something that resembled a penis in front of your face. Not as big as Father James, but it definitely wasn't small either.

“W-what is that?” It scared you. The thought of him inserting something so life-like into you had you fear about your virginity and whether it would be broken or not.

“It's a special little toy I bought for you, sweet one. You can even take it home with you after and play with it as much as you want, but I'm the one that's going to fuck you with it first.”

“B-but will I still be a virgin after, Father?”

“Don't worry, my little angel.” He kissed the corner of your mouth tenderly and sweetly while he uttered some reassuring words. “I swear this won't corrupt you in that way.”

You tried to open your mouth to say something more—beg him to stop or encourage him to go on with his vile plan, but all you did was stay silent as you felt paralysed due to his assertive promises on your frail body.

He got up from his position on top of you and raised your hips in the air while he found his place behind. You felt very unsteady in this bent form—face pressed into the mattress and your backside up in the air. It was new and uncomfortable, thighs shaking slightly, but after a couple of seconds, you managed to ground yourself.

He lifted your dress to reveal your panties damp with your arousal, making him chuckle at you being a needy little angel for him. “I knew you'd be wet, sweet thing. Such a dirty little girl you are for wanting a man of God to perform such vile acts on your innocent body.” He hooked his fingers in the hem. Your panties clinging to your sticky folds as he peeled them off and let them fall down to your rested knees.

“Thank the Lord,” he mumbled as he inspected you, his hands caressing your hips very delicately, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. You closed your eyes in shyness and shame and nibbled on your bottom lip at being so exposed to him in such a lewd state. All the passages in the bible about whoring perfectly embodied you at the moment.

“Where do I even start with you?” You felt his warm breath on your left cheek, followed by a series of sloppy kisses on your skin. “I want to eat all of you, sweet thing.” His words tingled against your holes as he ghosted his lips on them, making your breath hitch in your throat and your walls flutter around nothing. Father James had never had his mouth on you like that, and you wanted him to devour you and show you a whole new sensation that his fingers could never emulate.

He licked a broad stripe through your mess, making you gasp in delight at his delicious tongue on your most sensitive part. “So good and tempting,” he murmured before laying a kiss on your needy nub, “but I think I want to leave that for another time. I just want to get right on and destroy your little angel holes.”

A bottle opened up, and a globby slickness of some sort fell on your puckered entrance before it slowly trickled down and coated your folds as well. It was not saliva but something unfamiliar.

“W-what is that, Father?” “Just something that will make it less painful, sweet angel.” “P-painful?” “Don't worry, sweet one. I'll be ever so gentle with you, I promise. You're in the safe hands of God.”

This felt more like the Devil's.

He circled the pad of his thumb on your puckered hole, making you gasp and jerk your hips forward due to the alien and slightly uncomfortable sensation. “It's ok, sweet thing. Relax for me” His other hand caressed your hip to soothe and comfort you as he continued his stimulation. You took a few deep breaths and tried to loosen the stiff muscles in your body.

Slowly, he pushed through the tight barrier, making you clutch the sheets in your grasp at the knee-buckling and slightly painful sensation. “I-it hurts,” you sobbed into the mattress once the tip of him was inside your heat. It was too much, and you feared how it would be to have his thick length split your flesh in half.

“Shhh, it's ok. It will feel better soon. You're doing such a good job,” he praised as he began a slow, steady rhythm of thrusting the tip of his thumb in your tight warmth. It began to be less painful and more pleasurable the more you got used to the new stimulation, making you sigh in relief.

With his other hand, he ran his fingers through your sticky and messy folds before he circled your aching little pearl, making you mewl at the all-so-familiar sensation that ascended you into pleasure, and with them two combined, it was like reaching a new state of euphoria. “T-that feels so good, Father,” you moaned as your eyes fluttered and your skin shivered in delicious tingles all over.

“It gets better, sweet one,” he uttered as he teased your quivering opening before inserting a finger deep into your drenched walls while simultaneously pushing his thumb further into your heat, reaching knuckle deep, making you cry aloud while your knees trembled. Both your holes clenched around him so tightly, but with the help of Father James' once more reassuring words, you managed to relax and revel in the complete fullness. “That's it, my sweet little angel. Relax and take it all in.”

At the same time, he pulled out his digits from your tight holes, teasing your openings in circles before slowly pushing in again, making you hiss at the burning sensation, eyes rolling back and toes curling as they sheathed themselves entirely in you.

Father James begins pumping his two digits in and out of your tight and warm holes, curling them against your inner walls. The tips of his fingers meet each other with each deep thrust, making your eyes see stars at the earth-shocking sensation it brings. The delicious stimulation had that buzzing passion in the pit of your stomach rapidly build up with each pleasurable push into your insides.

As you were on the brink of a heavenly release of bliss, all stimulation on you ceased to a halt, making you whine in protest at his Godly fingers stopping his Unholy corruption on your innocent holes.

Father James chuckled at the state he's made of you with only his digits—already a pretty little mess for him, as he told you would be. “I've barely started, sweet thing,” he sneered as you heard him take off his pants behind you. You tried to lift your head to see him spring to life, but you were too weak to bring yourself up.

Your tight little flower gushed in need to be stuffed and filled once more, while your throbbing and dilated heat ached just the same to feel fullness again.

“P-please, Father, I-I want you to fill me.” You weren't used to begging in such a dirty manner, and once the words left your mouth, you became so flustered with shyness and awkwardness that you buried your face into the mattress in shame.

“My, my,” he growled deeply like he was possessed by Satan himself. He leaned over you and lifted your face off the mattress by your neck, and turned your head so you could stare directly into his dark eyes with your hooded and weak ones. “Not such a sweet little angel anymore, are you? Such a dirty little demon I've made of you, little girl,” he chuckled before letting go and returning to his assertive and towering stance over your frail and helpless body.

He grabbed both of your cheeks in a forceful grip and spread them, making him growl as both of your throbbing holes opened more up for him. “Such tight little holes begging to be stuffed and abused, sweet little thing.” You hummed your approval at his dirty statement, wanting nothing more at the moment than to have your holes split in half and destroyed.

That same bottle as before opened up, and you heard him smear his length with the same slickness as he had done you. His thick and heavy size rested against your cheek, so close to your aching heat, his pre-cum leaking all over your skin.

He grabbed the toy he presented to you before and gently tapped it against your little pearl, making you lean more into its delicious touch. He ran the length of it against your slick folds before teasing your opening with its bulbous head, preparing to penetrate your gushing flower.

Slowly, inch by inch, he buried the toy into your walls. You've never had anything so significant inserted into you before, only being used to a finger or two. The stretch was burning and uncomfortable, making you emit a cry in pain as your eyes brimmed with tears. “Shhh, it's ok, sweet thing,” he comforted along with a soft touch on your skin with his free hand.

Once the toy was sheathed into you to the hilt, nudging your sweet spot, you exhaled a content sigh, slowly getting accustomed to the delightful fullness. He slowly started thrusting the toy in and out of you—easy and short strokes to begin with, getting your walls familiarised with the stretch before he could fully pump the toy in and out of you in long and deep movements. Your soft purring had Father James twitch against you as more of his slick moisture leaked on your skin.

You had gotten so accustomed to the toy in your velvet walls, driving itself in and out of you in riveting movements, that once his swollen tip gently rubbed around your puckered hole, you gasped in surprise. Father James prodded your entrance, preparing to add more stimulation to your already overwhelmed and sensitive body. So he slowly, and so very delicately and safely, pushed through the tight barrier, making a cry rip your throat and grip the sheets harshly at the invasive and dirty stretch.

His soft lulling, and comforting caress on your smooth hip made you ease down to the best of your abilities and open yourself up for him to take you as he wanted.

“God, so tight, my sweet little thing.” Once his swelling head was nestled in your heat, a thick and heavy lust-filled grunt rumbled in his throat, and it went straight to your tingling nub that begged to be played with and stimulated—jealous of all your holes getting the attention.

It was like he intruded your mind because his hand, which was once on your hip to soothe and comfort, went underneath you to caress and massage your deprived nerve—easing some of the discomforts.

He pushed through a little bit more, about halfway, before slowly pulling back till only his tip rested inside your warmth. Each time he delicately thrusts into you, he gets a little bit further, a little bit deeper.

The toy inside of you kept a steady and delicious pace, all while his girth kept accommodating to your tight heat, and before you knew it, he was finally buried to the hilt inside you, making you feel every single inch of him. “God, sweet thing. Your tight little ass feels so good wrapped around my cock,” he groaned in satisfaction at being buried so deep.

You were left so taken aback and overwhelmed at being so filled and stretched in both your holes that the moans of pleasure and pain you emitted didn't even sound like you—the tone laced with filth and sin.

How you were and sounded at the moment was nothing like the innocent little girl your parents raised you to be. This type of corruption from your unholy priest left a significant dirty stain on your innocence, and you feared you would never again be pure and righteous in the eyes of God due to this major violation of your body and soul, despite still keeping your virtue.

He pulled you out of your wandering thought as he peppered soft and wet kisses on your shivering spine. “Good girl,” he praised, making you hum at his rare loving nature surfacing. The action of his kisses were so tender as opposed to the sinful degradation of your holes.

“Do you want to continue?” It was rare of him even to ask since he usually just did as he pleased, and you would always acclimate to what he was doing. You nodded, incapable of forming your words for him to continue his delicious corruption.

With a feral grunt, he pulled out his length and toy simultaneously before thrusting them both inside, making you yelp and fist the sheets tight to brace yourself for the forceful and intense push. The toy inside of you started to pump with ease—deep and whole, while his thrusts in your heat were slow to begin with as it's the most invasive and hurtful, making tears spill from your eyes and stain the sheets.

But once Father James senses that you were starting to relax and enjoy yourself, he picked up the pace, slipping into you with ease, making the bed squeak with each thrust.

The tantalizing rhythm his hips hold as he smacks into your behind was so incredibly lewd and sinful. His girth sheathing into your heat that wrapped so perfectly around him, had him relish in pleasure as he voiced his praises quite lively. “So tight, my sweet thing. God, you're so good. You love having my cock buried so deep in your little ass, don't you? All while fucking your needy little cunt with the toy?”

You had trouble finding your words as the sensation of having both holes used and abused left you a cross-eyed, drooling and blubbering mess. But after trying a few times, all you managed was to give him a weak “yes”, which had him chuckle at the messy state he's made of you as he leisurely continued his pace with both his girth and toy into your quivering holes.

The tip of the toy nudged and stimulated your swollen sweet spot each time it filled you up, and along with Father James and the toy brushing against each other between the thin wall of your insides, it had you see stars as waves of your moans and whines were muffled into the sheets.

And the way his colossal fingers stimulated your engorged and overwhelmed bundle of nerves tied it perfectly together. All three stimuli brought forward a sensation that could only be described as pure paradise.

You don't know how long this sinful violation went on as you all but ascended into a haven of burning pleasure that Father James acted upon your body.

And without warning, your senses were rocked by an intense and violent orgasm that consumed the entirety of you.

Your vision turned bright white like you'd ascended into heaven as the electrifying buzz coursed through each ending of your nerves. You convulsed and cried on the bed as a gush of wetness exploded out of you, making Father James curse and pull out the toy from your quivering walls and furiously rub your throbbing pearl while still continuing his thrusts into you, which made your gushing walls clench around nothing. At the same time, your tight heat squeezed him harshly.

With a guttural and feral groan, he pulled out of your used hole, making your weak knees collapse and hips hit the bed as you lie limp on the soft surface, still twitching from the earth-shattering aftershocks while your chest lifted erratically to catch your breath.

You heard him pump himself to completion as he uttered nothing but filthy words. “So wide and open for me, baby,” he grunted as his holy seed spilt and coated your pulsating and dilated hole. “God, look at that. Your little ass is so hungry for my seed,” he finished himself off entirely with heavy moans.

You were so weak and dissociated as you were still floating somewhere far above due to that soul and body-wracking orgasm. You’d never experienced anything like that before.

It was only when Father James softly caressed your waist and peppered comforting kisses on your spine that you got pulled back into reality, hissing and whining when he touched your tender skin. His twitching girth rested comfortably against your used and abused heat.

“You did so well, sweet one,” he murmured against your skin, making your already sensitive nerves burn intensely. “I'll clean you up, and then we can rest.” You clutched the sheets and shut your eyes tight as he wiped down your holes since they were so oversensitive and raw from the violation he'd done on you.

Once he was done, he pulled your weak and trembling body further up the bed, laying you on top of his broad and firm chest as he held you close. Softly stroking your back and kissing your forehead. You revelled in the gentle care and love as it was something Father James rarely showed.

“F-Father,” you murmured, barely above a whisper into his skin.

“Yes, sweet one?”

“A-am I dirty now?” Those thoughts you had before about your innocence forever being stained and God not seeing you as pure and righteous anymore clouded your mind, making tears spring from your eyes that you may never recover from this great sin, no matter how much you repented or pleaded for forgiveness and blessings.

“Hey,” he softly stroked your tear-stained cheek while you peered up into his crystal eyes that now held nothing but sincerity and tenderness. “I promise, sweet one, that we did nothing wrong. You’re still a virgin and pure and whole in the eyes of God.”

“A-are you sure, Father.” You knew you should never question the authority and words of a priest, but you had to be sure that your virtue and innocence were still intact.

“Sweet one, you are forgiven, and you are whole and perfect. God loves you and forever will.”

“T-thank you, Father,” you breathed a sigh of relief at the blessings and forgiveness. Now, you could rest comfortably against Father James, knowing that you were still loved and treasured by God.

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

I don’t do taglists so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

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enchantedbarnes · 5 months

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Recommendations 💖

I've been wanting to do something with recommendations for ages now, but there's just too many to even know where to begin! Here's a chaos list of past and present faves 🥰

Completed fics

Undisclosed by @pellucid-constellations

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadn’t mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldn’t leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either.

Lumpy and Bunny masterlist by @sweetdreamsbuck

Pairing: beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky's never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he's entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one's ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

Sweet and Sour by @sashaisready

Pairing: Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

Summary: You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

While you're over there you might as well check out ...

Under the Radar by @sashaisready

Pairing: Nick Fowler x reader

Summary: Reader is a brilliant but shy and awkward CIA employee whose work is often overlooked by her colleagues…she’s blended into the background for so long that she doesn’t think there’s any other way - even if she does have secret aspirations for another life. Unbeknownst to her - a certain blue eyed agent is very aware of her talents, even if nobody else is.

The Thrill of the Hunt by @rookthorne

Pairing: Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

The ancient game of cat and mouse, a fight for survival between a predator and their prey, wasn’t a new phenomenon – it had been practised for centuries and it was an art that very, very few perfected. For years you had chased the craving to find someone that had mastered the art of the hunt, and for Halloween, you had gone all out and visited a haven unlike any other. It was there that you found your match. Cloaked in nothing but black and shrouded in a sense of lethality, you would have to run from this shadow in an adrenaline fuel haze unlike any other. A chase for the ages, the very one you desired. And if he caught you, your world would end as you knew it.

The Lookout by @mymoonagedaydream

Pairing: ParkRanger!Bucky x y/n

Summary: It was amazing, really, how quickly one person managed to turn your dream job into a living nightmare.

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader Summary: Bucky doesn't play favorites but Amaya is definitely his favorite, especially because her mom is hot.. Cue a 6-year-old trying to get Bucky to be her dad.

Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together by @golden-barnes

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Pairing: Y/N & Bucky Barnes, Other Marvel Characters.

Summary: Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Classylo's masterlist

home for the holidays by @classylo

When your family begs you to come home for the holidays and to bring the new guy you’ve been seeing, you don’t have the heart to tell them your good-for-nothing-ex cheated on you… good thing your roommate is available and will do absolutely anything you ask.

should've been you by @classylo

He was supposed to meet you at the game. He was supposed to be the one you went on a date with. He was the one you were supposed to fall in love with. Yet, here you are three years into a relationship with another… it should’ve been him, not his best friend.

Moral of the Story by @justkending

Summary: From childhood friends, to highschool sweethearts, the two naive, young, and lovestruck teens decided the best way to keep a strong relationship during college would be to marry right out of highschool. No one batted an eye at the idea as everyone knew they were soulmates. However, college is a big step in a person’s life. You learn new things about yourself, you make new friends, find new hobbies… And maybe being newly weds and going to different colleges across the states wasn’t the best plan… After a falling out, a tragic and heartbreaking divorce, the two now despise the other for how the whole thing was handled. Neither not really knowing both sides of the story. 10 years later, and they both get a call from the lawyers office that settled their divorce. Somehow the papers never went through and the divorce was never completed. So now, the exes, or should we say husband and wife, have to meet back up after all these years to settle their failed marriage once and for all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Everest by @justkending

Summary: She was done and retired. After Thanos and the battle of a lifetime, she called it quits and distanced herself from the Avenger lifestyle. But word finds her that someone from her past is in danger. What the journey entails was never one she wanted to face nor one she saw becoming her reality again. The rollercoaster that comes with fighting evil odds arrives on her doorstep, not leaving much room for a no… Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Coming in Hot by @nexusnyx

When your best friend Sarah recommends you a mechanic of her brother’s trust, all you can think about and pray to is that he doesn’t rip you off. Your car is your prized possession and amidst all the worry and concern of your medical studies, drowning in even more debt sounds as suffocating as it would be. Of course, you never thought of the possibility of the mechanic being the problem. A hot, polite, gentle, and silent-type of problem. Drowning in debt would be easier to navigate than the blue of Bucky Barnes’s eyes.

Pairing: Mechanic Bucky x Reader

Though I Have Never Read by @tuiccim

Pairing: Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: You had run away from all of your problems and found solitude in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. When a storm blows in, it drags a man with a metal arm through your door. Offering shelter, you spend one night together before he disappears. Years later, you find yourselves together again but does he remember that night or you at all?

Blink Twice by @simmerandwrite

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It was just an undetermined amount of time in a safehouse with a stranger: Bucky “I didn’t come here to make friends” Barnes himself. Would it really be all that different from your lonely life with your cat in the city? Bucky was basically a cat, anyway. He was quiet on his feet, only really made noise when it was dinner time, and you both seemed to just coexist without acknowledging each other. His mandate was to keep you safe. What could go wrong?

teach me how to love by @buckyismybicycle

Pairing: DAD!BUCKY X TEACHER!READER

Natasha leaves behind her precious daughter, Yelena, and with her dying breath asks Bucky to look after her.

Sweet by @noceurous

summary: it was something cliche but your fuck buddy fell for you nonetheless, even though you swore you would never do relationships again. But rules are meant to be broken.

call me when you want by @bonky-n-steeb

summary: when you call a sex hotline with a need to be dominated you don’t expect to meet (or hear) someone as wonderful as James. but your life becomes a complicated mess as you already love your coworker, Bucky Barnes. however, you are unaware that they are actually the same person.

Part 1 & Part 2

Grow Old With Me by @sonderosa

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

...you could wait fifty years if he asked it of you. You’d promised him that, and he’d smiled and kissed you, told you that in fifty years he wanted to be old with you, sitting on a porch in rocking chairs and watching the sunset. You wanted that, too; it was a beautiful dream.

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky x Fem!Personal Assistant!Reader Summary: It's your first international trip working for bestselling author Tony Stark as his new personal assistant, and you're desperate to prove yourself worthy of such an incredible opportunity. But when things start to go wrong whilst staying in Dublin, and suddenly you're stuck in the middle of the Wicklow Mountains with a flat tire, you're convinced that you'll be fired before the day is over. Luckily, a handsome, blue-eyed mechanic with an accent that makes your insides melt comes just in time to save the day.

Sweeter Than Honey by @foreverindreamlandd

Their other series are also *chefs kiss* -> go read the rest of @foreverindreamlandd's series

Love at First Grade by @buckysimp101

Pairing: Single Dad!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader; Teacher!Bucky x CEO!Reader

Summary: When father and first grade teacher Bucky Barnes ends up with Avery L/N in his class, the daughter of the “ruthless” CEO of L/N Enterprises, he's in for a surprise that's sure to change his life.

Teacher's Favorite AU by @suitk0via

Pairing: Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader

Summary: You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine's favorite teacher and Bucky's just gotta meet you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

The Heart is a Deep Ocean by @dreamlessinparis

Summary: Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.

Pairing: ex-military amputee!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Something Domestic by @fandoms-writings

Summary: Needing an escape from the loud and busy city life, Bucky comes to stay with you on your little farm. He didn’t expect you, a hardworking and beautiful woman with struggles of your own, to take his breath away and make life a little less dreary.

Labyrinth by @frostironfudge

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, (Modern AU)

Summary: labyrinth (noun), a complicated set of paths and passages, through which it is difficult to find your way. Bucky and You would do anything for Steve and Wanda, your respective best friends. In an attempt to avoid a tradition Steve and Wanda come up with a lie involving their best friends. A lie, that involves building a labyrinth. Bucky and You begin to build but will you two find your way out or be caught in it?

nostalgia for the new by @real-jane

pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader shield agent

summary: bucky meets you because of your exquisite taste in music, and he finds in you a solace he didn't realize was possible. you create for bucky something he's never found before: nostalgia for a time that hasn't happened yet, and hope for a future where he might be loved.

Ongoing fics

Honey Girl by @violentdelightsandviolentends

Pairing: Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Summary: The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

After all those years by @ziawbarnes

Pairing: AU Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Peggy and Steve's wedding in Mexico takes an unexpected turn when you and Bucky, who initially couldn't attend, end up joining the celebration. With no available rooms, Bucky becomes your roommate for ten days, leading to unexpected adventures and new connections.

Fresh Start by @nicoline1998enilocin (on hiatus but I love)

Pairing: Teacher!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: In this universe you can explore the story between Bucky Barnes as a middle school teacher, and Y/N with her son Luca. They just moved to the other side of the country, and have decided to completely start over their lives. On the first day at his new school, Luca quickly befriends his new teacher, and Y/N can't help but take a liking to him as well.

A Past Encounter by @majesty-madness

Summary: Being in a relationship with Bucky, Y/N prided herself on knowing him quite well but when she’s accidentally teleported back to the 1940's, Y/N discovers that there is a whole other Bucky that she has yet to meet. The sweet flirt that had everything going for him before his unfortunate capture by HYDRA.

Neighbors by @writerlyhabits

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: You get to know your neighbor across the hall, James.

Unexpected by @repressedqueen

Paring: SexWorker!Bucky x reader

Summary: After a crazy night out celebrating your birthday, somehow you ended up outside a brothel debating on whether it was time for you to finally have sex or not.

My Little Love by @crazyunsexycool

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Fem! Reader

Dr. Feelgood by @endless-summer-soldier

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

Pairing: Teacher!Reader x Single Dad!Bucky

Untitled Single Dad!Bucky Fic by @angie-likes-to-art

Summary: You made a promise to yourself to not sleep with any parents before starting teaching, little did you know the guy you slept with two days before is the dad of your cutest student.

Too much love to choose from, here's some creators with masterlists you need to check out! ❤️‍🔥

@navybrat817

@jobean12-blog

@coffeecatsandcandles

@metalbuckaroo

@wkemeup

@nickfowlerrr

I love and appreciate all of you 💕 thank you for all your hard work 🥰

Happy Reading!

(Dividers by saradika)

RECOMMENDATION LIST #2 CAN BE FOUND -> **HERE**

#fic recs #fic recommendations #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #my recs

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cherryqueen28 · 6 months

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~Bucky Barnes Master List~

click here for Main Master List

~Bucky Barnes Tumblr~

~HEADCANONS~

✨Bucky Barnes SFW Headcanons @ohbuckysmetalarm

~ONE SHOTS~

✨Feel Again doctor!Bucky x Reader @wkemeup

Silent Girl + The Winter Soldier Bucky x Reader @kinanabinks

You're My Heaven Bucky x Reader @angrythingstarlight

Midnight Promises Bucky x Reader @fineprintedsunsets

✨here (doesn't have a title) Bucky x Shy!Reader @buckyalpine

✨Stealing Hearts Mob!Bucky x Thief!Reader @sinner-as-saint

Abandoned Bucky x Reader @queen-of-the-avengers

✨here (doesn't have a title) Bucky x Reader @buckyalpine

✨Safe and Sound Bucky x Librarian!Reader @sinner-as-saint

✨On his knees Hades!Bucky x Mortal!Reader @sweetsweetnuit

here (doesn't have a title) CEO!Bucky x Secretary!Reader @buckyalpine

here (doesn't have a title) Bucky x Reader @buckyalpine

Safe Haven Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

Rescue Me Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

Santa and Sunshine Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

here (doesn't have a title) Biker!Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

The Unseen Hades!Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

Capital Letter Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

Bad Guy Mafia!Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

✨I can save you this time Bucky x Reader @pellucid-constellations

✨I Meant You Bucky x Reader @magicalqueennightmare

✨Faking it Bucky x Reader @pellucid-constellations

✨Step Foot Bucky Barnes x Reader @basicallybarnes

✨Battle Scars Bucky x Reader @time-for-a-lullaby

✨Happy Little Acidents Bucky x Female!Art Teacher!Reader @espinosaurusrexex

✨Firewood Lumberjack!Bucky x reader @mrsbarnesblog

✨Morning Delight Bucky x Reader @mrsbuckybarnes1917

~SERIES~

✨No Day but Today Bucky Barnes x artist!female reader @buckysfaveplum

✨Sun Rise Veteran!Bucky x Librarian!Reader @wkemeup

✨Fight for me Beefy!Bucky x Reader @littleseasiren

✨Trying Bucky Barnes x Reader @moonlight-prose

✨Blink Twice Bucky Barnes x Reader @simmerandwrite

✨Missing Piece Bucky x Reader @likeahorribledream

✨Safe with me Bucky x Reader @bitsandbobsandstuff

✨Undisclosed beefy!Bucky x Reader @pellucid-constellations

✨Pretty Women, this is me trying Bucky x Female Sexworker!Reader @captainsimagines

You're my sunshine Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader (Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au) @theeleggymeggy

✨Our home to heal Bucky x Reader @subwaysurf45

✨Heart Lines Bucky x Reader @buckyskorpion

✨Broken TFWS!Bucky x Reader @soulgazingwithbucky

Drifting CW!Bucky x Reader @real-jane

Something Domestic ex military amputee!Bucky x Reader @fandoms-writings

✨Under Pastel Skies Bucky x Reader AU (also on AO3) @redgillan

Yours to Wield Mob!Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

✨A Little Rusty Mechanic!Bucky x Reader @subwaysurf45

✨Double Agent Bucky x Reader @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Pride and Privacy Bucky x Reader @adrinktostopyourthirst

✨ Guys My Age AU Divorced!DILF!Neighbor!Bucky x Reader @valleyfae

~Bucky Barnes Wattpad~

✨Red-Bucky Barnes x OC author: leatherstuddedx

✨Safe with me author: bitsandbobsandstuff (this is also available to read on Tumblr-- can be found in my Tumblr Bucky Barnes list)

✨Rose author: cassidyhudspeth (couldn't link the story so I linked the authors account)

✨Recollection author: primuskat

✨Daybreak author: Big_turd_blossom

✨Haven author: mxrvelous- (couldn't link the story so I linked the authors account)

✨Hard to love author: Hoe4BuckyBarnes

✨HAPPY author: lilyroselilac24

✨missing pieces author: -BUCKYBXRNES

✨The ghost we hide author: galestxrm

~Bucky Barnes AO3~

✨The Hurt and The Healing by The_Grey_Lady_Weeps

✨What he did to me by opheliaapril

✨Moving forward by MadHatter2019

✨The Safety Deposit Box by tinytofuturle

✨The White Wolf by HumanDisorder

✨The Strong, Silent Type by Loloorenn

✨Coming in hot by adarasink

✨Good Heart (Faulty Machine of a Man) by lightninginmyeyes

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buckyalpine · 5 months

Text

Imagine shy beefy Bucky being the little spoon. He feels like he should be the one cuddling you since he’s so much bigger but he loves when you hold him instead.

However.

There’s this one thing you do that always makes him blush and flustered and he just doesn’t understand it.

You love rubbing his tummy.

You hold him from behind, peeking over his shoulder because you love how peaceful he looks when he sleeps. You know he's not actually asleep because his abs are still tensed, worried over how you'd feel with the beefiness that covers his muscular body.

He’s self conscious when your hand slips under his shirt, rubbing his soft but firm tummy up and down; his skin is so warm and you love how plush he is. He’s still getting used to the fact that he isn’t as trim as before. Not that he’s unfit. Quite the opposite. He’s a thick hunk of muscle mass. You can feel the iron like hardness that runs under his skin whenever you're pressed against him. He's so large and perfect to snuggle up with; your grabby little hands love finding their way to his stomach.

"Doll-" He whispers with pink dusted cheeks, holding your wrist away when you sneak over his waist, stroking your skin, "Doll, I- I'm not-" He struggles to get the words out, embarrassed he's not lean like Steve, "Baby, I-

“Shhh, I love you like this” you coo, kissing his shoulder. He shrugs, still not believing you. You tell him how much you adore him every time but he can't help but think back to the time where he was pure muscle without any pudge.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to pretend, I wish I was-"

You shake your head, pressing your lips to his to stop his spiral.

"But you're my big boy" You pout, shuffling over till your straddling him, forcing him to lay back. You huff, pulling his shirt up exposing him, shimmying your hips down so you can curl up on top of his bare torso like a little kitten. You let out a content sigh, pressing your face into his stomach, peppering kisses all over before peering up at him.

"I love your body so much baby" You say sincerely, kissing just below his belly button again for emphasis. "You're so warm and soft and strong, my perfect bear"

Bucky can't help but melt over the way you melt into him, your smaller form using him as a pillow to your hearts content. If you liked him like this, always kneading away at him or trying to burrow yourself into him, who was he to say no?

Cause imagine how fucking hot he'd be when he finally embraces how good he looks with a lil beef. Imagine he stops trying to cover up with large hoodies and henley's. He works out shirtless more.

You're not the only one who drools over him anymore.

All the other trainees can't help but swoon whenever they see him at the punching back or pumping with weights. You have to claw them off him from trying to climb up his legs, desperate to have Sargent Barnes carry them with one arm with ease.

Even the other Avengers can't help but cat call at him because he looks fine af.

Sometime he lets his hair out or ties it half up along with his scruffy cheeks and Tony's taken to calling him a man slut for walking around like that.

"Tony, I don't think thats what slut mean-

"I know what it means. You're telling me he's flaunting all that around and he doesn't know he's hot while doing it? He doesn't know he's getting all this attention?"

Bucky snickers to himself while you coo over your handsome boyfriend, wrapped around him like a koala while the others watch in amusement, your hands skimming all over his body and scratching his beard.

"See? Told you you're perfect like this, big boy"

Imagine he knows you find comfort in him and he no longer feels conscious over it. Whenever your sad and in need of cuddles, he holds you nice and close, usually sans clothing, all skin to skin contact.

He knows you're a little pervert and he'll give into your puppy like eyes, sometimes letting his towel drop after a shower while you grin, shamelessly watching him.

"You're staring again, you little creep" Bucky snorted while applying lotion, dropping his hands when he felt yours paw at his back to take over.

"Just a creep for you, handsome" You quip before continuing your journey exploring his body, moving your hand to his front, deciding to wrap around his co-

Anyway, I love this beefieee babieeee

3K notes · View notes

rookthorne · 19 days

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲

A venture to a club for a performance — the type that better suited the phrase ‘once in a lifetime’ — left you with far more than you could have ever anticipated for when you step out from the double, glass doors.

The secrets within the lustful atmosphere weighed on your own thoughts, as did the vivid imagery of what happened up on that stage: the drag of heated palms over your clothes and the whispered words of praise that would fuel your sinful dreams for a time.

Only, the source of your maladaptive daydreams waited for you outside.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ꧖ Stripper!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ꧖ 7.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ꧖ Fluff, extreme spicy tension, emphasised size difference (Bucky is huge and beefy as fuck in this), Russian!Protective!Bucky ჻჻჻ TROPES: Grumpy/Sunshine, Meet Cute ჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, size

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ꧖ I have been waiting for the opportunity for over a year now to create this AU, and I had the push from @sgt-seabass' experience at a certain event that she so graciously shared with me... 😘 ꧖ A special thank you to a certain someone for their help with the Russian flirting... ꧖ I have to say that this Bucky was one of the hardest ones I have ever attempted — there were times I was so close to throwing in the towel. I am so glad I didn't. ꧖ It was so fucking hard to not add smut into this — I am determined to save that for a... special moment.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ꧖ It's A Man's World by Sevyn Streeter ꧖ greedy by Tate McRae ꧖ Soaked by Shy Smith ꧖ Crazy in Love by Beyoncé

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ꧖ @thevillainswhore — you were a literal saviour, baby, thank you so much for sticking with my stubborn ass through this. ꧖ And to quote her when she saw the tropes: MEET CUTE? YEAH, SOME FUCKING MEET CUTE! 🤭

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ꧖ @buckybarnesevents Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟮 — Stripper AU — Masterlist ꧖ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ჻჻჻ Teasing (January) — Masterlist ꧖ @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗢𝟰 — Nightclub AU — Masterlist ꧖ @anyfandomkinkbingo 𝗡𝟯 — Free Space — Masterlist

𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The crowded line around you bustled and shifted with excitement for what lay ahead in only — you checked your phone for the time — a few minutes. Double, glass doors artistically darkened would part to the masses, passes would be checked, and then you would be directed to and seated in your booked seats.

“What do you think they’ll be like up close?” your friend asked from next to you, their arm looped around yours to stay close. “What about–”

“Let’s just hope we get to see him,” you reminded your friend. “He’s kept a secret for a reason, no one knows if he’ll be at a show until he is there—part of his mysterious charm, I guess.”

As a birthday present from your accompanying friend, you were given a set of tickets to see a coveted show by the Howling Commandos — a group consisting of a few men and their host, Natalia, travelling through the states of your home country and performing risqué dances on a dimly lit stage to a crowd of howling women (and a few men, too).

That wasn’t what you were there for, however.

Within the ranks of the performers that made up Howling Commandos, was a man built like a God — from what you had seen on their social media, you learned that he was called Sarge. He had jaw length, dark brown hair, and piercing, slate grey eyes.

Not much could be parsed from his lack of information — it wasn’t abnormal to be a private performer, it was part of the allure and to gain profit, you suspected, but there was next to nothing known of the brooding mountain of a man that commanded such a presence on the stage that he was only brought out for the biggest of shows.

It was a little disheartening, if you were honest, that your particular show wouldn’t be classed among the bigger crowds — the likelihood of Sarge even being in the roster of performers was slim.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, glancing around the gathered crowd. “I just– I hope we get to see him. Have you seen the way he dances?”

“Oh, yeah,” they replied. A strange, teasing smirk pulled at the corner of their lips, and it made you nervous for some inexplicable reason. “I’m hopeful too, babe—turn that frown upside down, it’s your birthday!”

You managed a small nod and smile in reply.

Not even a moment later, the doors before you parted, opening in a wide arc to reveal a provocatively dressed woman, a staff member of the ensemble. The bass of the music from within the nightclub pounded in your chest, and your heart skipped a beat as you handed the worker your joint passes — they flashed a wolfish smile and gestured you inside.

“She was hot.”

You snorted at your friend’s blunt commentary, though you nodded in agreement. The woman was dressed in what you could only describe as a modest corset and fishnets, topped off only with platform heels and an updo that would make a nineteen-forties housewife jealous.

The interior of the club was remarkably different to the outside. From the blackened windows, you could still see the dimmed glow of the neon’s that lined the outer signs and gutters of the building, but within the establishment, it was a much softer, moodier atmosphere.

Couches made of plush, burgundy velvet were lining booths and tables alike, while stools and tables made up the middle of the floor with a few stylistic chairs thrown among the mix. A stage, high off of the floor by at least four feet, lined the furthest and widest wall from the entrance.

Curtains covered the back of the wall, a combination of blacks, deep reds, and purples making up the canvas of a backdrop.

The music that played over the speaker sounded familiar, and you strained your ears to decipher the song — a classic for a club hosting a stripping event, with a sultry beat that made your skin prickle.

“Well, well, hello there, vozlyublennyy,” a voice suddenly called from the stage.

Your gaze snapped towards the source, and you found a woman standing right at the edge. Black leather met fire-red hair and lipstick; her mouth was curled in a wicked, sultry smile that turned your insides to jelly. The heels she wore made her as tall as a Goddess, and she bent her knees to squat down to better look at you. “Aren’t you pretty?”

“Oh, god,” you whined, hiding your face in your friend’s shoulder. They laughed at your shame. “C’mon, that’s not funny–”

“It is, sweetheart,” the woman cooed, and she offered you her hand to shake; blood red nails turned her porcelain skin paler, and she had a single, silver ring on her thumb. “Natalia—pleasure to meet you.”

You offered your name and your hand, only, she kissed your knuckles and left behind a stain of red lipstick.

Natalia tilted her head as she looked at your friend. “Interesting… very interesting.” Before you could question her statement, the leather of her pants creaked with the movement of her standing tall. “Why don’t you come take a seat over here for me?”

The chairs she pointed to were placed in the VIP section. Your heart thundered against your ribs with trepidation. “But–”

“Aw, thanks!” your friend cried, far too enthusiastically. The grip they had on your arm was iron tight, and you had no choice but to follow the direction they frog marched you in — straight towards the seats that screamed opulence.

“What are you doing– We– You didn’t pay for these?” you rushed, watching your friend sit beside you in the booth. On the centre table was a bucket of ice and a bottle of champagne, a tray of hors d'oeuvres beside it. “The fuck is this?”

“Just don’t think about it, babe,” they replied nonchalantly. A sample of food popped into their mouth, and they made an appreciative noise.

The sudden, mysterious determination of your friend set you on edge and made your stomach coil with anxiety. You could not figure out what they were up to, let alone having acquired such tickets to sit so close to the stage, and you realised with one hell of a start, if you reached a hand out from your set, the tips of your fingers brushed the very edge of the platform.

People began to take their seats with ushers directing them, and you took the opportunity to take in the interior again — a large bar was bordered by glass shelves stocked full of liquor, from whiskey to vodka, all the way to tequila.

While you stared around the space, the lights began to dim even further until you could barely see the stage.

“Hello, hello, all of my minxes,” Natalia said, her honeyed voice blanketing the crowd and kicking up the anticipation in the air by several degrees. Spotlights suddenly illuminated her figure on the stage, and you gasped at the sight — black leather pants accentuated her thighs and hips, and the dip of her corset in the harsh light was anything but modest. The red curls you admired moments ago sat over her shoulders.

The crowd cheered and whooped with her appearance; she took a bow. “Thank you all for the very warm welcome, darlings,” she cooed, the slight rasp of her Russian accent making her tone sensual. “Tonight is, as you know, a very special night.”

Her heels clicked over the stage as she strolled leisurely back and forth, holding the entire focus and attention of the patrons in her manicured hand. “We have ventured from far and wide to come here tonight. So it is of both of our benefits if I allow the boys to start the show, but first,” she said, coming to a halt in the middle of the stage. “Some house rules.”

You listened while Natalia listed off the do’s and don'ts for the evening — most of which you couldn’t believe had to be even mentioned. “Some people are pieces of work,” you muttered to your friend. They snorted a laugh and nodded in agreement.

“And with all that out of the way,” Natalia sang, and she tilted her head to search through the crowd. Her hazel-green eyes landed on you — something behind that playful gaze caused a shiver to run down your spine. “I present, Falcon.”

The show that Falcon put on toed the line in so many instances that the room felt like a sauna — a few women were using their leaflets to fan themselves. You watched with heat adorning your cheeks as he bowed to the crowd, then dashed off stage, opposite to where Natalia appeared once more.

Her sensual smile seemed to invigorate the crowd even more, and they whistled as she slunk to the very front of the stage as the music began an interlude. “I’m sure Falcon would not have minded a louder cheer, darlings,” she purred, arching a perfectly manicured brow.

An uproar of cries and screams made her laugh from her perch on stage. “That was much better, excellent.” Her heels clicked over the platform as she strutted back and forth, back and forth — if she were a cat, you suspected her tail would be twitching with the anticipation of cornering her prey. “Our next performer is a crowd favourite, and he is eagerly awaiting his turn behind the curtain–”

“Hurry up, Nat,” a deep voice said from behind the barrier of cloth.

The cackle of laughter Natalia replied with sent a thrill down your spine. “Easy—be a good boy now, Nomad.”

A blond head of hair that belonged to no other than the infamous Nomad appeared between the split of fabric, and he glared at Natalia with a playful heat that only made her laugh harder.

The appearance of him roused the crowd, and for good measure, he winked at a few patrons. “Come on out then, boy,” Natalia teased. “They seem to want you—we must give them a show.”

Nothing prepared you for the intensity of Nomad’s set. The sensual movements and choreography of his routine was mesmerising, and you often found yourself staring into his face as opposed to his body; those eyes never left the woman he danced over, a depth to them something only a lover would achieve.

By the time Nomad took a bow and strode off stage, your heart was jammed in your throat and your mind was flitting with dreams you only hoped would manifest while you slept. It was only early, though. The tickets stated clearly this show would run for at least another hour, if not longer — you looked to your friend whose attention was wholly fixated on the stage. “What are they–”

“Ah, darlings,” Natalia called, cutting you off, and an unnatural hush fell over the crowd. Some kind of electricity shot through the patrons like a lightning strike, anticipation heavy in the air. “You must think that tonight must be over—it is only early, I assure you, the night is young!”

There were a few hollers in reply.

“You need not fret. We have another surprise for you all,” she soothed. Her boots shone in the spotlight as she stalked to the front of the stage, and she squatted in place. Dark eyes met yours, and your breath hitched at the way she seemed to see through you.

Music swelled and pounded against your ear drums, the deep bass of it taking the rhythm of your heart and twisting it to its own beat. The lights dimmed and turned red, casting Natalia’s silhouette over the crowd.

“Please, welcome our very own soldier,” she purred.

A dark figure came out from behind the curtains and loomed over Natalia, even in her high heeled stilettos. They wore a cap to obscure their face; a jacket bulked their frame and covered a red henley, the first and second button unclasped to show the rounded neck of a black shirt.

No matter what they wore, there was no mistaking who just stepped onto the stage, and you felt what little control you had over your body slip through your fingers like sand.

Beside you, your friend grabbed your arm and shook it, squealing excitedly. “Oh, he’s here!”

You blinked, covering your open mouth with a hand — either to clasp your jaw shut or hide your surprise, you couldn’t decide.

“Well, hello there, Sarge,” Natalia greeted, and she circled him; each click of her heels loud against the floor. “I think we have a few voyeurs excited to see you.”

Sarge raised his head to observe the crowd, eyes sharp and bright under the red light. “Da, you would be right,” he said, face passive and void of any emotion. “I better get started then.”

The fabric hugging his chest wrinkled with a sudden roll of his shoulders, and he moved his neck side to side — a physical show of his strength that made the crowd squeal and shriek.

He did not even react.

That same passive stare observed the crowd before he glanced at Natalia. “Ubiraysya otsyuda, Natalia.”

Manicured nails brushed over her forehead while she saluted in farewell. “Have fun.”

“I can’t believe this,” you whispered in shock. The flood of heat that warmed your neck crawled its way up to your cheeks; suddenly unbearably warm while the lights overhead dimmed.

The vision of him on stage was otherworldly — nothing could compare, not even the videos and pictures uploaded to social media of his performances or press. Even his accent was stronger, deeper in person. He towered on stage with his mere presence, let alone his astounding height.

A few patrons whistled and called for him to start, but he merely threw them a heated stare that forced them to quieten down. The respect he commanded made your stomach flutter with nerves.

Next to you, you felt the seat cushion shift, and your friend leaned closer to whisper in your ear, “Happy birthday, babe.”

You blinked and looked at them with wide eyes. “What–?”

They nodded towards the stage. Confused and unable to repress the nervous shiver of being watched, you looked towards the raised platform, just as steel-grey eyes met yours. Sarge had searched the crowd like a famished wolf, and the hunger in his gaze reflected as such.

All of the breath in your lungs escaped in one fell swoop, the exhale turning into a squeak of shock that was not dignified. “Oh, oh,” you whimpered, moving back in your seat until your back was against the plush cushioning. “You didn’t– Oh no—no, I can’t–”

The frantic pleas turned to breathless whines when Sarge smirked at you; a slight quirk of his full, pink lips that froze the world around you. His handsome features came into full view with the sudden beam of a spotlight, and you took them in — a sharp jawline that would cut glass, paired with a straight nose above perfect lips. There was a light dusting of stubble over his jaw that offset the dark brown locks that fell to his neck.

People in the crowd caught onto who he was staring at, and they began to whoop in encouragement.

A gloved hand raised to halt the noise. “A little bird told me that tonight was someone’s birthday,” Sarge said, still staring straight at you. The slack in your jaw was almost painful. “And for the birthday girl, I have a surprise.”

“What,” you blurted.

Small giggles punctuated your stunned silence, the sudden hysterics of your friend almost made it all the more unbearable. The clarity that came with the sudden reveal hit you like a speeding truck on a highway, the mysterious change of seats; how Natalia picked them out from the crowd.

You turned to stare at them heatedly. “You did this?”

A sludge formed in your stomach when they nodded.

“I can’t, I can’t– Oh, god,” you gasped, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of emotion that coursed through you. “I can’t go up there!”

The doubt only gave rise to a sense of confliction — some small part of you yearned to take that stage by storm and have a dream become true, the other, however, wanted to crawl into a ball from the shame of such exposure.

“Yeah, you can,” your friend said, and they gripped your hand. “You’re going to go up there and have the time of your life—don’t let your fear steal this from you.”

Lights around the room dimmed entirely, casting the stage into darkness. Over the pounding of your heart, you could hear the heavy thump of boots over wood, then a solid shadow loomed at the edge of the stage; sans cap, and hair flowing loose down his neck, the few strands that covered his face brought to life the impulse to tuck them behind his ear.

“If it truly makes you uncomfortable, I will leave you be,” Sarge offered. The gravelly tone of his voice made you gulp compulsively from a sudden dry mouth.

He squatted in place, the toes of his boots right on the edge of the platform — you couldn’t help but notice the tightness of his jeans around his thighs. “Otherwise, darling,” he continued quietly, “Allow me.” A gloved hand appeared in your vision, and he smiled softly at you.

“I– Oh, fucking,” you rambled, unable to take hold of his hand. “I can’t–”

“She will,” your friend interrupted, and Sarge glanced at them — his expression had turned passive once more. “She just needs some encouragement.”

“Oh?” Sarge replied, a curious lilt to his accent. He stared at you. “That I can offer.”

The squeak of his boots sounded when he rose to his feet. His looming height only made your heart beat faster and faster against the confines of your throat — you watched his back and shoulders move as he strode back towards the curtains.

The crowd was in titters of anticipation for the beginning of the show.

And to your utter astonishment, Sarge turned on the spot to face you, and started to shed the jacket he wore all while maintaining eye contact — a spell you could not break, no matter how hard you could have tried, you did not want to.

Your jaw ached with the way it fell open in awe once the outer layer of his clothes were removed, leaving him in just his henley and undershirt; jeans hugged his thighs far more prominently now the baggier layer didn’t hide his frame.

“Go on,” your friend whispered, pushing you sideways on your seat to the edge.

“Ah, nyet,” Sarge barked, pointing at your friend. “Let me try to convince moya malen'kaya kukla.”

The seamless transition to his mother tongue made a small, quiet moan fall from your lips before you could bite back the impulse. Sarge, ever the cunning wolf, seemed to have heard it, regardless of the crowd of impatient patrons.

You watched as his index finger beckoned you, a come-hither motion that set the last of your reserved dignity to cinders.

“Idi syuda, viksen,” Sarge called. “Come here. Kneel at my feet.”

The pit of your stomach fell through the floor, much like your jaw, and as though you were bewitched, you rose from your seat to whoops and cheers; rounds of applause that could not be heard over the thunderous roar of blood in your ears.

Sarge stood on the stage, his eyes fixed on you with such intent it turned your knees to jelly, and as you reached the small set of stairs to the side of the stage platform, he moved towards you and offered a gloved hand to help you up.

“Here, darling,” Sarge said softly. One hand held yours while you navigated the steep steps, the other was placed on your lower back when you reached the solid and suddenly very large platform.

Under the guise of directing you, he leaned in close enough for the heat of his breath to be felt on the shell of your ear. “If it becomes too much for you to take—what I am about to do,” he clarified at your startled squeak. “You must tap my arm thrice, like this.” The soft tap of his finger against your arm was insistent and firm. “Understood, da?”

“Y–Yeah, yes,” you replied breathlessly, nodding once. “I– Okay.”

Sarge dipped his head low and grinned, so only you would see. “Khoroshaya devochka, lyubimyy.”

The music swelled and trembled the floor before you could even reply to his quip, and he looked around the stage. “Hmm, over there, I am thinking,” he said quietly, and then you were moved towards the other end of the stage, his hand still holding yours. “Are you ready, darling?”

You blinked, then hesitated a brief second. Sarge picked up on the swirling anxiety that viciously swarmed your mind and body. “Remember, you need only tap my arm three times and it stops. I will signal to Natashka, then she will take you to a quiet room to soothe you.”

“Well, there’s a back up plan, just in case,” you mumbled.

A small smile danced on Sarge’s lips again, the same one that he held only for you back at your seat. “There will always be precautions,” he said, his voice thick with the accent of his mother tongue. It was endearing and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him for how nonsensical and calming his mere presence was — quite the opposite for what you would expect of a performer. “Besides, I do not want to frighten such a beautiful woman.”

“Oh–”

“Kneel, viksen,” Sarge commanded suddenly. You jumped in fright and fell to your knees with little hesitation — the rushed action made Sarge smirk. “Well done, darling.” Leather caressed your jaw, then your chin, and his hand tilted your head up to look into his face. When your gaze met his, he winked and licked his bottom lip before he silently mouthed, “I am starting now.”

His consideration swelled far more than your heart.

A loud voice called over the speakers, “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s make some noise for Sarge!”

The crowd roared a few decibels below deafening.

You watched in the sudden, dimmed lighting as Sarge turned back around and headed straight towards where he stood when he beckoned you on stage. His head was held high while he looked over the stage, and a spotlight caught his profile, sending it into sharp relief against the backdrop of crimson and purples.

Sarge’s beauty was unmatched by any model or actor. His side profile alone was enough to make a small, unbidden whimper fall from your lips.

The leather gloves that covered his hands were pulled off, exposing the skin beneath — swirls of ink lined the back of his hands, while a few patterns stretched artfully down some of his fingers. As for the rest of the artistry that you assumed decorated his body, it was covered by the red henley and black undershirt, let alone the jeans that hugged his thighs.

His heated gaze fell on you as he turned to stand directly opposite you — his feet shoulder width apart and his head tilted to the side so strands of dark hair fell over his cheek and jaw.

From within the crowd, you could just decipher the calls from your friend, and their encouraging cries fuelled your bravery — a blessing in disguise, for Sarge held out his hand and beckoned you towards him, just as he had done to get you on the stage in the first place.

Oh, fuck, you thought.

Instinctually, or foolishly, you placed your hands past your knees and onto the stage, then lifted off of your knees — everything in your body screamed arousal at such a dominant move. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you mumbled at the ground. “I’m really doing this.”

Yeah, you are, the voice replied in your mind — it sounded familiarly like your friend that watched on.

One hand moved forward, followed by a knee; the other hand mimicked the firsts, then your other knee followed suit. The hard surface dug into your knees and palms, but you paid no mind to the subtle ache, your gaze too homed in upon the man that stood watching you crawl to him.

Sarge’s eyes bled from blue to black in the dimmed light, and he grinned; all teeth that shone white.

At last, you met the halfway point between your starting position, and where he watched on, when he held up a hand to halt your crawl. You sat back on your haunches and stared at him, eyes widening while he strolled forward — all the while grabbing the hem of his henley and undershirt, pulling it up to expose a deep, defined v-line.

The crowd moaned and screamed in unison, but it was a dull roar of noise over your mind’s insistent parade of what it would be like to kiss the skin of his hip; how tense his muscles could get in the throes of passion.

Before you could even shake yourself from that particular vision, you blinked and Sarge stood right in front of you — his very exposed hip within reach, if only you just leaned forward–

“Go on, detka,” Sarge purred, tapping the skin above the belt loop next to his zipper. And the bastard teased, “You want to, I can see it.” The impulse consumed you like a forest fire, and your lips met the heated skin in a chaste kiss. “Good girl.”

There was no discerning the patrons cheers any longer, the continued shouts and cheers of their voices melded into one, constant noise.

His fingers deftly worked the belt clasp, and you realised with an audible gasp that the black leather was branded with an inscription that sent a dull, aching throb to your cunt — Sarge’s Girl was decorated with silver filigree and a bold, full star on either side of the words. The buckle clinked as he pulled it free, then the strap where the text sat was pushed towards your parted lips.

“Open,” Sarge ordered, and you complied without a second thought.

His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, and he stepped back slowly, leaving his belt between your teeth. The heavy fall of his boots copied your heartbeat, the pounding rhythm sent your head into a spell of dizziness you wanted more of.

Your lips moved over the strap while your tongue tasted the earthy tones of treated leather; something you needed more of.

The leather dangled down your front, the end of it resting in front of your knees — Sarge tilted his chin up, looking down at you with an unreadable expression, as though he was contemplating something.

It all fell away — the sounds, the smells, the tastes when he kneeled down on one knee in front of you, eyes bright with a sense of mischief, and a smirk that rivalled the devil’s. “Let go,” he said, holding around the strap of his belt, right next to your cheek.

You bit down on the leather with a playful growl, and Sarge smirked as he pulled against your grip gently. “Give it back to me, devochka, before I tame the brat in you for all to see.” Shock flooded your system and forced your jaw to be lax around the hard leather. “Ah, there we go, Viksen. Arms out, wrists together for me.”

Your actions fell on autopilot to obey, and you stuck out your arms, wrists together, just as he asked for. He hummed and looped the belt around them, careful of the tightness of the leather against your skin. “Now, down.”

His hands moved you back onto all fours, the gentle grip of his hands while he did so sent a cacophony of butterflies to soar wildly in your stomach. The leather toes of his boots were all you could see when he got to his feet before, the deep, red henley fell to the floor a second later.

“Give it up for our Sarge!” That same announcer voice called over the speakers, and the crowd did not disappoint.

Warmth spread over your waist, and you realised it was both of Sarge’s hands feeling down your sides — one boot disappeared, then thudded as it landed on your other side.

He was standing over you– Oh, fuck, you almost gasped aloud.

A sharp, loud shriek fell from your lips with the sudden change of altitude — in the blink of an eye, Sarge had lifted you with both his arms around your waist. Your legs were draped over his shoulders, and his face brushed against your navel from the sudden proximity.

You could feel one hand splayed over the middle of your back to steady your frame and prevent you from falling backwards, though it did nothing to alleviate the rush of adrenaline through your body at suddenly being held in the air, with your thighs either side of his head, by one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Oh my god!” You scrambled to grab at his neck before you could master the impulse, and all you felt was the soft, brown locks of his hair in your fingertips. There was a hot breath on your stomach through your shirt, and the broad shoulders that held you so securely in the air shook up and down — Sarge was laughing at your fear, the bastard. “What–!”

Sarge’s other hand that was held to the side in a show of strength, brushed over the seat of your pants before he squeezed. The contact sent a rush of heat through the whole of your body as you realised just how close to your cunt his mouth was in conjunction with his hand on your ass.

The crowd was still whooping when he fell to one knee and twisted in place, so you lay across the stage — his hands wandered from your back to your knees. You could only see the wicked, hungry grin on his mouth when he peered around your calves; he arched a brow and licked his lips, carelessly fuelling the fire between your thighs.

Your wrists rubbed against the leather strap of his belt, and you subconsciously whined — you wanted to touch, to feel his strength under your fingertips.

“Easy, darling,” Sarge purred. “You will have your fill, obeshchayu.”

The buckle of his belt clattered to the floor with surprising speed, though you didn’t have time to linger on the newfound freedom — Sarge’s slow thrusts against the back of your thighs made a dizzy spell hit you with such force you almost passed out right then and there. “Sarge–! Fuck.”

“Not yet,” he rasped back.

You squeaked and looked down at him with widened eyes — the black of his pupils painted over the grey, bleeding profusely over the once calming seas of his irises.

All of your insides squirmed and vanished with the heat of his stare, and before you could even blink yourself back to reality, you were sitting in a chair on the stage with Sarge in front of you. His stature loomed over you and blocked out the patrons that cheered behind him — feet shoulder width apart and hands on your cheeks to tilt your head up.

The gentleness of his hold replaced the fire in your veins with an unexplainable adoration.

“Lyubimyy, are you with me?”

“Yeah– Yes, I am, just–” You stammered, blinking fast. “I got a bit flustered.”

Sarge grinned. “I know—it was sweet. So easy to entrance, hmm?”

“Hey–!”

“I joke, darling,” he teased. “I am almost done with you. I know you are eager to join your friend again.”

The music swelled over the speakers, the beat and bass reverberating deep in your chest — it didn’t feel like you were on the stage of one of the most prolific nightclubs of your city with a stripper performing with you, let alone talking to you in such a tone of hunger.

You had watched all of Sarge’s performances reverently, far more than you would ever admit, and never before did he treat a patron to such intimacy.

His press gave the same impression of stoic and blithe interest. Never one to talk unless questioned — Sarge was a quiet one, but yet, here he was, speaking to you with a reverence of what you’d expect from a lover.

Something tugged and pulled in your stomach with that particular realisation.

“Are you ready?” Sarge asked quietly, leaning in close while still moving his body to keep the crowd entertained. His eyes were clear and narrowed in on your features, darting from your eyes to your parted lips. “I will stop if you are overwhelmed–”

“No, no,” you rushed, and you reached for him on instinct — a reassuring, grounding presence the beacon you didn’t know you needed. “I’m okay, please.”

“As you wish, viksen,” he replied. “Follow my lead.”

The skin of his palms felt rough over your own hands, and he guided them to his chest, covered only by the dark undershirt — you realised it was a tank as opposed to a shirt. He turned on the spot and fell to his knees, boots tucked beneath the seat you were perched on, and his hands guided yours to the neckline of his shirt.

“We’re in the final stretch,” the announcer called over the cheering crowd. “Let’s give it up one last time for Sarge!”

Your fingers were squeezed by Sarge’s palms, the grip firm as he pressed your hands into his chest while manipulating the thin cloth into your fist. He looked at you over his shoulder with a sly smirk. “Have your fill, darling—pull.”

The fabric tore away with ease under the combined efforts of Sarge’s strength and your hands — black cloth revealed a chest covered in artistry, rippling with the movement of guiding you to strip his chest bare.

A small moan fell from your lips and into his ear.

“Settle,” he murmured back with a wide smirk.

You gulped while he turned his head to look out into the crowd, and the smirk he threw you morphed into a grin while he slowly moved his hips back and forth — a show far too intimate, but you could not look away. The low position of his beltless jeans left little to the imagination.

“Now you can return to your friend,” Sarge said lowly, helping you up from your seat while your legs shook. “You took it so well, darling. Come.” His warm hands guided you to the edge of the stage, where the stairs were situated, and he took each step down with you.

Your heart thundered and skipped the longer he stayed beside you, and finally, he helped you to your seat before moving your hand to his lips. A soft kiss brushed against your knuckles, and he smiled softly. “Goodbye, viksen.”

You watched him turn back around to walk back up the stairs, the muscles of his back and shoulders tensing and rippling with each step, and the time passed in a daze from that moment onwards.

Through the hazed lust, you barely acknowledged your friend who welcomed you back to the table with eager chitters and whispered demands after Sarge disappeared from the stage through the side exit.

The feel of his hands on you lingered, even after the soft touches of him guiding you back to the sanctuary of your occupied booth, and you found you didn’t want that sensation to ever leave.

The last of the performers dwindled on stage while patrons shuffled around to gather their belongings. It wasn’t often that the Howling Commandos lingered at a venue, given they were a sought after group of performers, they often had tours that were demanding beyond reason — though it was different this time.

After following them for so long, it was rumoured and then later confirmed on social media, that this show was the last for them for some time — no one knew for sure how long their rest would last, but it was well deserved regardless.

It was how you found yourself bouncing on the balls of your feet in anticipation beside the stage. Nomad, Falcon, and Natalia were mingling amongst the crowd for photo opportunities for the lucky few who purchased the extra bonus of a meet and greet.

You were not unfortunately one of the few, as much as you wish you were — the treat of being brought on stage was already too much for you to cope with and process.

The sound of footsteps of giggles emanated from your left, and you glanced over to find your friend on the approach. “You good?”

“Yep,” they said, popping the ‘p’. “Let’s go get some drinks!”

“But–” You tried to protest, but it was of no use — the grip your friend had on your arm was tighter than a vice as they dragged you out of the door and into the street. The night life of the strip of nightclubs was wildly alive with partying crowds and drunkards stumbling all over the place. “Oh, hell. Do we have to?”

They looked from left to right with a tight grimace pulling their expression taut. “I mean, no– Oh.” A scarily menacing smirk danced on their lips, and just as they opened their mouth to speak, they were cut off by a shout.

“Viksen!”

You whipped around to search for the source, when your mouth fell open in shock. Down the closest alleyway, leaning against the brick wall of the club he just danced in, was Sarge — a freshly lit cigarette dangled from his lips while the rings on some of his fingers glinted from a flickering streetlight opposite where he stood.

The black V-neck shirt and leather jacket bulked his frame even more than the hooded get up he wore for his performance, and he still wore those tight jeans and boots.

Smoke billowed from his mouth and nose while he threw the cigarette to the pavement, where he scuffed the lit end with the toe of his boot. “I never thought I would see you after the show,” he called, and he strode forwards, hands tucked into his jacket pockets. “It seems luck is on my side tonight.”

The closer he came, the more your insides melted — while he looked nothing like he did while he performed, he still exuded a lethal confidence that cut your resolve to shreds, and that smile of his didn’t help, not one bit.

Your friend suddenly gripped your arm and rushed, "I just remembered I'm staying with a friend tonight. Can you make it back home safe?"

“I–”

Sarge stepped closer and tilted his head. The passive line of his mouth while he looked at your friend smoothly changed into a softened smile when he met your gaze. “I will take you home, darling—if you would like?”

The pocket of his jacket chimed with the sound of keys. “I did not park far from the club, and I do not tend to enjoy…” He looked back towards the club where his fellow performers lingered behind. “I prefer to selectively spend my time with those I choose.”

“Well–”

Brown strands of hair fell forward as he looked to the floor, his posture turning open with the sudden show of bashfulness, and under his breath he spoke, “Ideal'noy byla by kompaniya krasivoy zhenshchiny, a ne etikh idiotov.”

You swallowed around the slither of fear that clutched your stomach in a vice — being alone with the man you were beginning to form a crush on was not ideal, not without preparation or a wing–

From the corner of your eyes, you saw your friend staring at you pointedly with wide eyes. Go with it, they urged, unspoken and greedily.

A deep breath rose your shoulders shakily. “Yeah, that– That would be nice,” you replied softly. “I, uh– I don’t live too far away.”

Sarge looked up with a blindingly bright smile, and it made your stomach flip and riot in place. “Good—that is good.” He looked at your friend again — you couldn’t help but feel heartened by the plain stare he gave them. “Do you have a way to get to your friend’s home?”

“I’ll call a cab.”

“I will wait with you,” Sarge said, and he set his shoulders. “I cannot leave you without knowing you will get there safely.”

“A real gentleman,” your friend teased while their fingers flew over the screen of their phone. To your horror, they glanced up at you and smirked. “I like him.”

The air rushed from your lungs in a shocked exhale while Sarge moved inexplicably closer at the statement, his arm brushing against yours in a feather light touch. He didn’t move to rebuke their words, nor did he make any noise of acknowledgement; eyes intently scanning the surrounding crowds as he would if he were guarding something precious.

It was a comfortable silence that stretched between the three of you while you waited curb side for your friend’s lift to arrive — a surprise that you would chew them out for endlessly later, but you were nonetheless nervous to be left alone with the mountain of a man beside you.

Passersby paid no mind to you as you waited there, surreptitiously shuffling your feet in place to inch closer towards Sarge. The warmth he emanated drew you in and you couldn’t resist the temptation to just be close — no matter the people around you, or the way your friend kept flickering their knowing gaze to you, a slight smirk still playing on their lips.

“Oh, here we are,” they said suddenly, their head turned towards the road where a car was starting to pull up. “My ride—perfect timing.”

Sarge moved forward and opened the back door wordlessly, inclining his head in farewell but uttering no words in their parting. You hugged them goodbye and tucked your chin into the juncture of their neck and shoulder. In your ear, they whispered, “Be safe, have fun; wear protection.”

“Come on,” you hissed, pulling your lip up in a grimace. “That’s not fair–”

They hugged you tighter, not allowing you to pull back from their embrace. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? The way he offered to take you home?”

You hesitated, but you truly could not see how it was any more than just friendly interaction. “No…”

“Enjoy his attention, babe,” they said softly, rubbing their hands up and down your back. “Just text me when you get in his car and then again when you get home. I want to know how he kisses you.”

Before you could scold them again, they pulled back and skipped to the open door of their lift. They looked up at Sarge and smiled. “Take care of my girl, yeah?”

“She will be safe,” Sarge replied simply. “I would not let anyone hurt her.”

Heat flooded your stomach and crawled up your neck while Bucky shut the door gently behind them. Through the tinted window, your friend waved goodbye, and you did the same as they were taken away; swept to their own respite and leaving you to fend for yourself against the butterflies that ran riot through your whole body.

The car’s tail lights disappeared around the corner at the other end of the street, and with it, your courage. It was suddenly overwhelmingly nerve wracking to be standing there next to Sarge, the cold breeze of the night biting through your poor excuse of warmth as an outfit. Your arms moved to automatically cradle your front, your hands gripping your biceps, when Sarge spoke, “Are you cold, darling?”

You blinked and met his gaze. “No, no, I’m okay,” you lied.

Sarge tilted his head, the strands of dark hair brushing against his cheek and brow. “You are not a very good liar.”

The words were said in such a deadpan statement it made a laugh erupt from you, and that made a smirk pull at Sarge’s lips — one that he reserved for only you. “Alright, yeah, I’m a bit cold–”

You couldn’t even finish your admission before a jacket — Sarge’s leather jacket — appeared in front of you. “Here, it will keep you warm. I cannot allow you to be in any discomfort, not if I am able to prevent it.”

“But–” You tried to protest, looking at him with widened eyes. What you wouldn’t give to wear that jacket, be enveloped in his warmth and distinct scent that filled your senses to lift you off your feet, but then he would– “But you’ll get cold too!”

Sarge narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Takaya upryamaya zhenshchina.” The gravel of his voice sent a shiver entirely unrelated to the sudden chill down your spine. “YA tebya obozhayu.”

“Hey, I don’t speak Russian,” you whined, pouting at him. “What did you say?”

Sarge only chuckled and shook his head while he placed the jacket gently over your shoulders, prompting you silently to slip your arms into the sleeves. “Never you mind, Malen'kaya Lisa.”

“Stubborn asshole,” you teased half-heartedly, though you burrowed into his jacket with a hum of contentment.

“Me?” Sarge laughed, and he took a single step back after adjusting the collar to better sit on your smaller frame. “How am I stubborn when you are shivering and refuse– Ay, moy bog, you are too adorable.”

The way his eyes brightened as he looked down at you suddenly hit you hard — the force of it leaving you breathless. Maybe your friend was right… “So,” you began nervously, and your hands fidgeted with the cuffs of his jacket.

Sarge smiled softly. “I did not introduce myself.”

“You don’t go by Sarge–”

“Nyet,” he laughed again. “No, darling. That is the name for the stage—only for my performances.”

“Oh.” The warmth from his jacket suddenly grew overwhelming with your embarrassment. “I didn’t–”

“Do not worry, Malen’kaya Lisa.” Sarge grabbed your hand and moved the cuff of his jacket from the back of it, where he placed a soft kiss. “My friends call me Bucky, if you so wish– Actually,” he paused for a second, then, “Please, call me James. Sarge and Bucky are for everyone else—vy zasluzhivayete chego to svoyego sobstvennogo.”

“I have no idea what you just said,” you replied with a nervous chitter wavering in your voice. “But, okay, James—nice to finally meet you.” The smile James gave you when you offered him your name made the butterflies ditch the fluttering riot for absolute pandemonium.

“Let me take you home, darling.” James took a step closer. His arm went around your shoulders. You let out a breath when you were pulled into his side — the comfort of being so close enveloped you, and “First, I would like to accompany you for a stroll. The night is young, viksen.”

You couldn’t help the snort of laughter at his words, and the blinding smile you received in return lit you from the inside out — you would do anything to see it again. “Are you trying to be old fashioned?”

James looked at you with a quirked brow. “Did it not work?”

“Maybe it did.”

“Nu, krasivaya devushka.” He leaned in close, his lips dancing over your temple, where he placed a soft kiss. The hot gust of his breath tickled your ear. “Allow me the pleasure of you on my arm for the evening.”

vozlyublennyy = beloved ubiraysya otsyuda = get out of here moya malen'kaya kukla = my little doll idi syuda, viksen = come here, vixen khoroshaya devochka, lyubimyy = good girl, darling detka = baby obeshchayu = I promise ideal'noy byla by kompaniya krasivoy zhenshchiny, a ne etikh idiotov = company of a beautiful woman would be perfect, rather than those idiots takaya upryamaya zhenshchina = such a stubborn woman ya tebya obozhayu = I adore it Malen'kaya Lisa = Little Fox moy bog = my god vy zasluzhivayete chego to svoyego sobstvennogo = you deserve something of your own nu, krasivaya devushka = well, pretty girl

🤭

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #alternate juneiverse 2024 #babb2023 #rookthorne's works

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sweetdreamsbuck · 2 years

Text

enraptured

beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader (lumby and bunny au)

w.c: fucking long i'm so sorry i have no control (8k)

warnings: SMUT, angst/mention of Bucky's past, oral (f rec), p in v, dom+needy!bucky (this is lumby we are talking ab), fluff, he's so in love that it's actually rude and you might die

summary: Bucky's never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he's entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one's ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

a/n: the long overdo lumby and bunny's first time. i'm so nervous to share this with you and i rewrote this about 3 times lmao. not proofread, all mistakes are my own. i hope you enjoy and please feel free to let me know what you think. tumblr did not want me posting this apparently, please read it lol xo

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

The last few months have been bliss, to put it bluntly.

As the ground awoke from the lasting bite of winter, so have you. His laugh, his voice, his scent, his eyes– god those fucking eyes.

Every day has been something new and exciting; your sweet boy has been nothing short of perfect in the little while you’ve gotten to know him.

Endearing, charming, attentive– but there was something burning under those layers of gleaming eyes and rosy pink cheeks; under his breathless giggles and groaned utterances of his shy ‘come on bun… you’re makin’ me go all silly’.

It wasn’t your fault he looked so pretty when he blushed.

You could feel it in his stare, in the way his hands started holding your curves with a bit more need– even apart from those few intense nights spent on his couch.

His touch had been something that hadn’t shied away from letting you know just where he wanted to be; holding you between his palms was where he felt he fit best.

The force his body used to chop heavy stumps day after day took a lot out of him– years of strain strenuous on his mind, on his limbs. Bucky’s hands only knew rough wind and a death grip; until he met just how soft you could feel under them, that was.

Now they caressed with a featherlight air, molding perfectly around the dips and swell of you. Bucky liked having his hands on you– he knew he just needed to touch you. But there was something off.

Almost as if he was afraid of placing them on you– a hesitancy you couldn’t quite name.

Running gentle tingles along the length of your spine, tracing circles and shy patterns into the secrecy of your sides, his hands began to relax for the first time in years. His lips would sear fire across every inch of skin they discovered, the plump pillows teasing your throat and the span of your shoulders with nervous breaths whispered.

If the shivers and soft whines you graced him with from just his recent discovery of weightlessness were this heavenly– fuck.

He’s fucked.

How’s he meant to contain all his desires– all the urges festering torturously in the pits of his stomach? He’d never be able to stay away once he knew what it was like to let himself go.

What if you felt the same way she did?

While his mouth caressed you, his hands followed. Ghosting over each trail and trace of his tongue, goosebumps spreading across your skin like sparks in a flame.

It was perfect. You’d never known being wanted could feel so right.

As you’d sink further into his chest, hands gripping the back of his neck while he tugged at your thighs to straddle him, he’d shut down. Meeting your movements for a moment, a low moan sounding deep in the depths of his throat as you rolled your hips, pulling at you desperately with a jolt of his core before he realized what he was doing.

Gasps of air and a shaky Bucky would act, anchoring his hands at your waist and slowing his lips gently up the side of your jaw. Chaste, teasing, a soft brush of ‘you’re so perfect bun,’ mumbled against your mouth before cuddling beside you on the couch, turning on a movie to cut through the tense air.

He wanted to take this slow– as slow as you’d let him. The sharp daggers embedded into his heart still left their sting, echoes of her words, 'You’re a fucking hermit. No one wants a man who can’t function in public. It’s embarrassing, really. I don’t want to live in the woods, let alone with you.'

'Let alone with you.'

He still hears it. He still feels it. True and bold, ringing loudly in every shielded touch on your back and hesitant kiss pressed against your temple.

'And you’re so clingy. My god. I need my own space, Bucky. You say you can’t breathe in the city and yet you manage to suffocate me here.'

He’s well over her. Hasn’t had a feeling toward that woman since she broke his heart. But the words left their boom, and with you– he’d never be able to stomach it. What if you felt the same way?

But fuck– he was going to combust. Bucky was certain of it. It was all he's been able to think about, to breathe about the last few weeks.

He felt his nerves taunting him with every moment he found himself in your presence, craving the need to know you deeper; to hold your palm, to name the hairs on the back of your neck, hell– to study the skin of your knees.

It might only be several weeks, but he knows. It’s love. He can’t remember the feeling ever being this scalding; the desire to be with someone every second of the day, the need to wrap himself around them and never let go– he loves you.

Bucky knew from the moment you stuffed your hands into his jacket that he needed you to cling to him like that forever.

Your touch is all consuming, a swell and tide he can’t help but long for. So good, so fucking good. His stomach wraps itself in tight knots thinking of how much he craves it.

He’s in love with you. Bucky wants to take this slow, and your accidental self-deprecating joke about how no one’s ever wanted to love you before on that amazing first date was not something he took lightly. But he feels the way you reach for him, the way you cling to him and softly whisper for more.

It’s that same nagging he feels pinching at his spine, too.

You’re both entirely too impatient.

And Bucky’s going to burst.

He wants to give you everything. To inhale you, to make you crave him as deeply as he’s addicted to you, to have you give yourself over to him wholly– but he can’t stop her words from haunting him.

There was a wavering hesitancy behind every brush of his hands, a sheltered sigh in each press of his lips against yours, until tonight.

•••

He asked you to dress nice, that it was a surprise– a date he’d been planning all week. Bucky knew you both loved spoiling those you cared for with nice things, with lavish gifts and surprises worthy of their heart. But he also knew– a bit smugly– that if he were to dress in his nicest button-down, arrange the rooms of his cabin with soft candles and the aroma of a delicious dinner that he cooked, you’d leap right out of your soles with delight.

Seeing you light up made everything seem so clear– the harsh noises bouncing around his head would cease, save for the loud thumping of his heart sounding soaringly in his ears. And in the safety of his own home, he’d have you all for himself.

But Bucky wasn’t prepared for the ground to freeze over the way it did when he opened the door to you.

A harsh huff of air leaves his lips, frozen solid at the base his tongue, incessant on the struggle of not letting it find its way back in. Unblinking eyes cradle every inch of your satin-adorned figure with a reverence unknown to you– unknown to anyone that wasn’t on the receiving end of it at this exact moment.

The ice spreads further, mouth frozen in place but his jaw loose as ever, itching to etch itself within your skin. The soft glow emanating from the way you look basking in the moonlight, peaking its way through the sea of thick evergreens littered behind you was a sight he’d never forget. Ever.

Not even a thermal camera could capture the radiance of what he feels, staring at you.

A deep black fabric clings a little too perfectly to your figure, the pudge of your stomach and dip of your hip highlighted beneath its silky sheen. A strappy pair of heels and a glossy stain on your lip sit prettily, complimenting the dress so simply– his throat is on fire.

Something too terribly similar to that of coarse ash and cinnamon line his airways, a roaring heat blazing pitifully in the base of his throat.

Dry, wordless, breathless.

And his brain can’t find the power to extinguish the feeling.

Struggling to think of anything but the way he can not handle being near you without his body betraying his fears; he stops fighting it. He needs you; to love you and suffocate you– and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t let you know it.

Letting his eyes sweep across every inch of you, painting the form of the angel standing before him with the smoke of an arctic storm behind his gaze, his pulse quickens with a renewed purpose. Heat pounds through his veins, straight to the very tips of his fingers and toes.

He’s so helplessly in love with you.

“You gonna let me in, Buck?” you laugh.

Oh.

His hand was gripped around the door since he’d opened it, so tightly you could've sworn the wood cracked a bit under his hold. Opening it all the way while his neck ran crimson, nodding furiously down at you as he ignores the splinters of wood falling from his fist.

Brushing a hand across his chest, your fingers toy with a button of his shirt before looking up at him through your lashes. “You, look incredible. Holy shit,” you smooth up his neck, pulling him down to press a short kiss to the side of his mouth before pushing past him, “so handsome.” He shudders at your voice, the spreading blush growing across his complexion at the flutter of your eager eyes and scurrying fingers.

Inebriation– amorous, hazardous, oh so beside himself in anguish with the sight in front of him; the fabric swaying with the taunt of your thighs, your perfume tickling past his nose and making his brain fuzzy. “Bunny…” he whispers.

He’s never been more sure of anything in his life.

“Yeah, Bucky?” turning to meet his eye, his air consumes you.

The weight of his compulsion happens in a surge, hand grabbing for your neck, the other squeezing around your hip. Propelled by your scent, by your intoxicating sting, crashing his towering frame into your softness as desperate lips meld against yours. His warm tongue invades your mouth, hungrily exploring with a new blaze, soft moans pressed against you as you melt into him. Decadent cologne tints your senses, sandalwood and spice seeping into every last pore of your skin as he sinks his claim deep within you.

His hand moves lower, grasping at your ass and pressing your hips against his, a deep chuckle sounding in his chest as he feels your hands begin to claw at him.

You’re nothing like her.

The desperation in each of your rushed embraces and heavy breaths confirms the shock with his sudden urge, the power and force of his movements quenching a drought you didn’t know was there. But this is only a small chip at the ice of who he really is, and he can’t wait to let himself go.

This new intensity in which he reached for you told you he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

You need more.

More of him, more of whatever it was he’s been hiding deep behind every breath and winded stroke of his knuckles against your cheek.

He sucks at your lip, biting and toying with you until you mewl and pull him back in, smoothing your hands around the back of his head and into his soft locks.

Time seems to cease when his hand cups your jaw and slants his soft mouth against yours, tilting your head delicately with a purposeful need. Teeth nip at your throat, lips soothing the ache, humming behind your ear, “M’sorry,” a low laugh, rich with disbelief. “I can’t even begin to tell you how gorgeous you are,” fixated on the spot just below your jaw, savoring your sigh. “We’d be here for a while if I tried.”

He doesn't voice it, but you hear him loud and clear: we have all night, bunny.

You grab his hair, needing him closer, heating up under his gravelly tone. His hands roam your back, clinging to the silky fabric sewn around you. “My goodness. This dress….”

Bucky feels it, the hardness growing against your thigh.

Your damn thighs.

Unashamedly, he nudges his nose along the shell of your ear. “Let’s go eat, pretty girl. Can't seem to control myself around ya anymore…” admission never felt so easy, his sheepish smirk something gluttonous. “Been cooking all afternoon. Promised you a nice evening, didn’t I?” He pulls away sweeping his hunger over you, unbridled lust burning every inch of you. A shiver rumbles deep in your chest under his gaze, cold fingers dancing up your back before brushing down your arms, linking his hand with yours.

“You’re all mine for the rest of the night,” he brings your fingers to meet his eager lips, brushing your knuckles against him. Awe slips through his kisses, a softly muttered confession spilled to the veins of your hand, “Can’t believe you’re here with me right now.”

The scent of earthy tomatoes and warm bread carries you both over to the kitchen, Bucky's thumb brushing over your knuckles as you take in the sight of his table: decorated with a gorgeous bouquet of roses, a few candles, and two perfectly plated meals sitting closely to one another.

“What do you mean?” you question breathlessly, oregano and garlic filling your nostrils.

He pulls out a chair for you, waiting for you to sit before sauntering over to open a bottle of wine. A glimmer of cynicism flickers across his features, a short smile falsely placed. His tongue sweeps over his lip before sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

He looks at you with a telling shake of his head, light of just how stunned he finds himself apparent while grabbing your wine glass and filling it, “Someone like you doesn’t just come walking into my life– anyone’s life, actually.” He sets your glass in front of you, picking up his own to fill. “Don’t think anyone on earth understands what it’s like getting to know you, to be with you while you walk around…” he tapers off, adoration apparent in the lusty blues of his eyes sweeping over you, “shit– looking like you do. Having you want to be here in my home...dressing up nice for me. It's a lot. I'm not used to it."

'I'm not used to feeling wanted.'

And god do you want him.

He grabs his glass and holds it up to your wide and waiting eyes, nodding for you to raise yours to toast. “To the most perfect person I’ve ever met. And for being here with me”

You shake your head, speechless and bashfully clinking your glass against his. “Such a smooth talker, Bucky.”

A giggle slips past your tongue, nervously swishing the red liquid around the glass before bringing it to your lips.

He hums, eyebrow quirking up at your dismissal. “Don’t need to be one when it comes to you. You make feeling things… painfully easy. But so difficult to concentrate. Yeah,” he nods to himself, basking in the chill of your wide eyes flitting across his face, “so fucking difficult.”

You preen under his husky admittance, a warmth spreading through your core. “I know the feeling,” a sheepish chirp. He squints his eyes at you, taking a sip of his wine. “But you're wrong, you know. No one who’s anything like you goes around inviting me over and cooking me a meal.”

He timidly smirks at that, the pink stain you love tainting his cheeks. “Such a shame. Guess that’s my problem to fix then, huh?” he shrugs, pulling his chair to sit next to you, the frames kissing one another.

He tries not to observe like a hawk– he really does. Opening his mouth to say something, anything, so he doesn't make a babbling fool of himself. But he can't help it.

Those words.

Anxious feelings creep back in, following your every move as you scoop a forkful of pasta, nerves accelerating past a scream before he can stop himself, “I know you like Italian so I thought I’d make some pasta. It was ma’s recipe and uh, I love it but I haven’t had someone worth making it for in a long time and I hope it’s ok because now that I think about it, I haven’t really coo–” a deep moan cuts him off, your eyes shutting in appreciation as the taste of warm pepper and fresh garlic invades your tastebuds.

“Gosh Bucky, this is delicious. Mmm, your mom is a genius. This is incredible,” you scoop another bite into your mouth, his nerves dissipating with every word and soft moan of praise.

Fuck– he’s not making it out of tonight alive.

“I believe I cooked this for you, not my mother,” he chides, a bit shaky but just as playful as ever.

Your eyes skim up past his broad frame, watching his shoulders expand as he nervously exhales. It's perfect, really; the way he needs you to know how special this is to him, how good it makes him feel being here with you. The spread of your lips is inevitable, a blinding smile curling inside the high rounds of your cheeks. The joy buzzing across your face rapids down his spine in swift waves, your knee brushing against his as the point of your shoe meets his calf under the table.

The smile grants him reprieve, the air filtering through his chest somewhat normally, grinning so boyishly as you grab your glass, finishing it all in one gracious gulp. “Well then, just gonna have to send my compliments to the chef. How would he like my gratitude?”

Your foot travels up the inside of his leg, your bodies acutely more awake than when you first sat down.

“However you’d like. As long as it’s from you,” his hand smoothes across your leg, fingers dancing past your knee, slipping under the creamy fabric of your dress. “I’m sure we can work something out….” Bucky's lips bow to meet your shoulder, a lull brushing effortlessly against your warm skin and moving up your throat. “But I’m gonna need you to eat that whole plate. Can’t have you growing weak on me,” he hums against your ear, pressing a quick promise to your pulse.

Dinner continued on like that– with desires of something even tangier than the zest of parmesan or the basil he decorated his sauce with. Whispered taunts and giggles against the ear of the other, wandering fingers and teasing hands itching to explore.

Bucky was right– feeling things had been painfully easy. Easy, but so beyond your willpower to try and focus on anything half the time; it was exciting. To feel any and every little thing all at once.

Tonight, you needed him to know how you’ve been feeling– all the greedy thoughts and cries you’ve been hiding away in each chase of his lips and slow grind of your hips. But this quickening darkness in his eyes, in the fervor of his hands, in the rasp of his voice– he was feeling it too. If not just as much, more.

You love him.

His hand never left your thigh throughout dinner, stroking tenderly. Pressing his calloused fingertips into you, kneading and tracing circles into the skin he had yet to get a look at.

His meal was finished long before yours, antsy and desperate to be near you, to touch you. And god, that neck. The scent of your skin has been choking him all night, he needs to memorize it, to drown in it.

Bucky’s hand snakes up your back, tracing the soft divots at the top of your spine as you rambled on about work. Nodding every so often at a particular point you’d make, intently and actively trying to focus on your words; on what Clarence did to make you so mad, on how your boss jipped you of your time off; but falling victim to the shape of your lips, to the cute frustration in your forehead, the strength behind the arch of your brow.

He couldn’t think of a moment that made more sense than this– being here with you, listening to your voice fill him in on the bits of your day he missed out on.

To hear about your day, your worries, the things that made you smile, your successes and failures– it was all he wanted. Terribly so; his fingers ached.

Bucky wanted this. So much– to love you with everything he had.

It happened before you could realize, his hand gliding up and up, slithering with a gentle scratch at your sensitive flesh until his knuckle ghosted against your center. A thin whine leaves your throat, your legs clamping around him. His fingers still, trapped hot and excited between your soft thighs.

And that’s when your sweet boy finally snaps. “You make me crazy, bunny,” his dark eyes lock on yours, sliding the hand wrapped around the back of your neck to encircle your thigh, urging you to rest on the spread of his legs.

Your thighs willingly part, resting against his wall of muscle he calls a leg, his hand free and steeping to explore the rest of you. “I can’t control my thoughts anymore. You’re all I think about. Day and night. You, you, you.” His hand inches slowly, the satin pooling around his arm as he travels higher and higher, fingers erupting prickles of excitement along your skin.

Nudging his nose against yours, his lips meet your cheek, eyes fluttering in a torturous surrender. “My sweet girl.”

Wounded with desire, an agonizing fever mouths his raspy heat in declarations along the curves of your face. “You,” pressed to the corner of your mouth.

“You”, trailing along your jaw.

“You”, bitten against your pulse.

“Bucky,” you breathe out, grasping his broad shoulders between your palms.

A ravenous moan surges through him, inhaling the length of your neck, trembling as your legs open wider to his touch, drunk and emboldened from the way your body listens to him.

He knew you’d be such a good girl for him.

“I gotta touch you, bun,” he growls. “I gotta have you,” his arm slinks around your back to pull you to rest across his lap. His hand stays under your dress, toying with the lace keeping you from him.

Lips play at your collarbone, a rough finger stroking along the wet gusset of your panty. “Do you know what you do to me?” a husky plea twirls around the base of your neck, scratching at your skin. Bucky nips across your shoulder, pulling the strap of your dress between his teeth and down your arm.

Goosebumps spread under his breath, his stubble branding his urgency into even the most ordinary parts of you.

“Please Bucky,” you whine, locking your fingers in the thick tendrils of hair along his scalp.

Such a good girl for him.

He shivers as your nails send volts of sweet pain past every nerve, moaning shakily into the smooth satin around your chest. You squirm under the vibration, under the tickle of the finger tracing along your clothed folds, moving your hips to beg him to press harder.

But he stills.

His eyes stay closed, heavy breathing filling the silence of the room. You breathe against his forehead, soothing your fingers through his hair. “Bucky?”

His head shakes against you, his mouth returning to your skin while wrapping you up in his arms, standing from the table, “Not here, bun. Absolutely not on a damn kitchen chair.”

Arms cling to his broad back, wrapping your legs around him as he makes haste towards his bedroom. His lips never leave you, tasting the column of your throat, expertly making his way through the cabin without ever looking up.

He steps through his door, the room dark, illuminated only by the light peering through his window.

Laying you gently in the center of his large bed, he moves to switch on the lamp in the corner. It only helps bare a wash of color privy to his sight, a warm radiance adding to the allure of the mesmeric beauty he can't wait to lose himself to. His eyes spare a glimpse, unable to withstand the temptation of your song, of that sweet enticement any longer.

Fuck. He's never seen something more beautiful.

Heels kick at each other, crazed motions to flip off his shoes, his eyes distracting him with the promise of that thigh peeking its canvas out of your dress, of the shape of your body mocking his inability to do one simple thing without needing to devour you.

Shoes get flung somewhere on his floor and Bucky can't help but look at you– can't help but allow the ache in his stomach, the throbbing between his thighs to stir and boil so uncomfortably.

His bunny, sitting so perfectly where he left you.

His heart stammers in his chest, kneeling on the bed before cupping his hand around your throat, sliding up the side of your neck. Watching the rise and fall of your chest, your erratic breathing; the strap of your dress right as he pulled it; a hedonic sheen of need glazing over your skin inviting him to drown, to sink even further into depths he no longer can fight to stay afloat in. It's rapturous.

Bucky feels his insides shaking, screaming at the way your pulse feels under his hand, how you lean into the strength of his palm wrapped around you with such zeal. It's addictive. How you clearly want this, his touch, him.

He explores further, his thumb brushing over your jaw, moving to trace the outline of your lips. You press against his thumb, soothing the twitch in the pad of his finger, rubbing your cheek against his palm.

Your lips send a trickle of pleasure down his arm, the darkness swimming in his eyes to siphon his greed and need hurdling through the room. Leaning back, nimble fingers clutch around his wrists to pull him with you.

Bucky cages his forearms around your head, nosing down your body with an appetite of awe in his eyes. He shifts, hands sliding down your curves before bunching at the bottom of your dress. Your legs part, helping him lift the fabric as he pushes it up your thighs.

There’s a nervous tremble in his hands, that hesitancy you know all too well seeping in the passion of his intent. His eyes meet yours and plead, hands freezing reluctantly. That same cynicism from earlier twinkles behind his gaze, a sad smile tugging at his cheek.

“Bucky? What’s wrong?” you grab his hands in yours, sitting up to focus on his face. “Did I do something? Do you want to stop?"

His eyes widen, his hands immediately grasping your forearms. “Never bun, you could never. Fuck, no I don't. Far from it– I’m uh, I’m just scared.” His hand grabs a piece of your hair that fell out of place, toying with it to distract himself. "So scared."

“Scared? Of what baby?” his eyes soften at your tone, at the way you didn't think twice of the term of endearment sliding so swiftly off the roll of your tongue.

“Of how perfect this feels. You just…you’re so…you make me...” he groans, closing his eyes and running a hand over his face. “What if you get tired of me? What if I annoy you? What if you hate this? What if I can't be–”

“I love you,” you don’t even hesitate. Pulling his cheeks between your palms. His eyes widen, breath stolen deep in his chest. “Bucky. I love you. And I could never hate this.”

His stare is molten, white-hot adoration unblinking with stupefied shock written all over his features.

“You just cooked me an entire meal in a cabin you built with your own damn hands. And you're worried I can get tired of you?” you brush a hand through his hair, curling up against his thigh. “You are perfect, James. Everything about you.”

Bucky swears he's listening, he sees your lips continuing to move, saying something about choking the life out anyone who told him otherwise, but he can't seem to hear anything. The sparkle of your confession pouring loudly through every bit of him– and truly, it's all he needed.

You love him.

His smile grows wide, wider than you've ever seen it, eyes glistening with a dark vibrance as his tune changes. “You love me?” he squeezes his hands around your hips, pushing you onto your back.

You meet the soft mattress with a giggle, nodding your head as he smashes his mouth against yours.

“Me? You love me?” he laughs, in between his vicious attack against your cheeks. “I love you so much,” his lips trail down your jaw, “I love you,” to your collarbone, “so much. So so much.”

His hands slip down the fabric of your dress, finding the trim and pushing it upwards. Your hands wrap around his wrists, eyes locking as you join him in slowly tugging it up your body.

Murmurs of his love swim around you, whether he's aware of them or not. Soft whispers, bold declarations pour from his lips with an air you could feel was undeniably his– undeniably the true and honest breath of the Bucky you love.

His eyes never leave yours, letting go of the fabric to intertwine your hands, sliding them to rest above your head. A kiss is pressed against each palm as he drops them above you, carefully carding the satin up and dragging it over your head.

It gets stuck, your arms tangled in the straps he worked so hard to not have this happen, but all you can do is laugh.

Laugh– at the frustrated sigh that leaves his mouth, from the way he's still completely dressed, from the thrill of getting to share this with him. Love.

And god, if it wasn't pure unadulterated bliss.

That boyish giggle soon finds its way up your stomach, kisses pressing against you as he flings the dress behind him dramatically.

Bucky cants back on his heels, eyes roaming over every inch of your figure with this new honesty of his, goosebumps erupting under his intensity. “My god…” he swallows, unsuccessfully. The air strangles him, exploding in his throat as he tries to mutter anything but your name.

“You're not real,” his fingers graze down your body, over your peaked nipples, razzing the sensitive tips with faint circles, trailing torturously under the swell of your breasts. Your whines and gasps fuel his exploration, dragging them down the softness of your middle, the branded marks littering your skin that he starves to memorize.

His touch scorches against you with such famished rage, worshipping you until your insecurities melt away– until he's tainting your skin with only his fervent breath of possession.

Grasping your thighs, he can't help but moan, lifting a leg to his lips. “I love you,” he breathes, kissing down your soft flesh, stroking at your calf. “And the heels are staying on tonight,” he chuckles against your ankle.

That mouth can't seem to keep away from your skin, thirsty, caressing its way back up to you and showering your other leg with attention.

Teeth and tongue drag along your inner thigh, his hand toying with the band of your panties. “But these are coming off.”

A bite squeezes the pudge of your hip, gently soothing the sting with his tongue before grasping the lace between his teeth, pulling it down the swell of your thighs. “Yes, Bucky."

And oh god, he whimpers– melting under the way his name sounds, so weighted but breathless, pulled so high and and desperately from your chest. Excited hands quickly remove the lace from the rest of you, a tear of fabric stretching through the air, but you can't find the need to care.

Such a good fucking girl for him.

“Need to make you mine, bun. Gotta taste you,” he lays himself down between your thighs, wrapping his hands around your legs and placing them over his shoulders. “So fucking beautiful, got the prettiest pussy,” he whines, taking in the mesmerizing view of your glistening folds, watching your slick drip from you.

"All fucking mine," he hums.

“Keep your eyes on me bun, need you to watch me,” his low voice growls, his hands locking themselves tightly around you.

Kisses pepper up your thigh, his nose inhaling your scent with a shudder in his shoulders. So fucking good. Placing a kiss to your clit, his eyes watch, hungry to catch every move of yours intently. Your body caves at the sensation, a thin gasp pulling from the pit of your stomach, the sound all he needs to hear before licking a fat long stripe through your folds.

Oh it's so soft, so strong, your hips jerk under his warm tongue, the thick stroke of it nestling itself through you and brushing over your clit. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he moans, sucking more of you into his mouth.

He pulls you closer, licking obscenely around your cunt before locking his lips around your clit. He moans feeling your hands tug against his hair, scratching at his scalp while he laves hurried strokes at your throbbing nub.

Jolts of pleasure rip down your spine, his tongue flattening and pushing against you, unrelenting motions sending you higher and higher. “So good Bucky, fuck keep doing that,” you cry, his mouth pulses ferociously around you as he continues to bask in pleasure.

Your head falls back, curses leaving your lips as his tongue curls, fists so tightly drawn your nails leave indents, his warm muscle stroking you just right. You've always known how attentive he was but fuck– Bucky is a really fast learner, picking up quickly on just how to play with you.

A hand slaps firmly against your thigh, a yelp leaving your lips as he grunts against you. Your eyes flicker down, a smug look of disapproval on his face as he teasingly licks through your folds. “Eyes on me, bun.”

An apology rolls of your tongue, squirming under his wanton stare– that devilish mouth.

Bucky pulls you back into his warm, wet hold, devouring you with a lewd possessiveness you didn’t know could exist. Pressing his own hips into the mattress, moaning and trying to soothe the throb of watching you writhe under his tongue.

Look at you, making a mess all for him. He can't get enough of you like this.

Your hips roll against his ministrations, trying to meet the immense pleasure his salacious kisses send through you. He mumbles, heady and deep 'such a good fucking girl for me, that's it bun' the vibrations severing heat through your core, your toes curling and your hands fisting tightly against his pillows.

“You’re so good Bucky fuck, feels so good,” you cry out, breathless and thin causing another delicious moan from his mouth to grace your core. Your heels dig into his shoulders, pricking and scratching his back with every lap of his tongue. His cock throbs achingly against the mattress, your whines and sweet cries pushing him to a hardness he didn't know was possible.

God you have no idea how fucking good that makes him feel.

He shakes his head from side to side, his tongue lashing around your aching clit, the muscles in your stomach tensing as you feel a powerful release approaching. He shoves a finger into you, curling and finding the spot that makes your eyes roll.

“I’m gonna cum Buck— fuck don’t stop,” you wail.

As if I'd ever do something as stupid as that, bun. A throaty chuckle pulses around your clit, a scream bubbling up the length of your throat and filling the room.

He adds another finger, stroking them against you as the muscles in your stomach unravel, piercing waves of warm pleasure crashing around you.

That tongue never ceases, his mouth drinking up every last drop, moaning and basking in the praise your cries and words grant him. You feel him smirk against you, your hands trying to pull his head away but he just keeps going, his lips sucking you further and further as you arch your back higher.

Eyebrows lift, the thin rims of his ceruleans sending you a smug glare as you continue to spew incoherent cries about how good it feels, how you can’t take anymore, oh Bucky fuck, please don’t stop.

Bucky's in heaven– fervid lust moaned against you, torrid sirens of pure rapture searing through you as he worships you insatiably between his lips. He can’t stop now– now that he knows how sweet you taste, how good you sound begging for him.

It's all your fault, bun.

Your legs tremble around him, walls clenching around his tortuous fingers, sending miles of avid pleasure straight to the throb of his dick with every jab of your heels. His mouth lifts from you, kissing softly against your thigh as he removes his hand, bringing his two fingers up to his eager lips.

He moans, licking up all your essence dripping around his palm. “That was incredible, bunny. Never felt anything like that…” he clutches his shirt, neglecting to finish unbuttoning it all the way before ripping it off of him completely.

He never felt anything like that? Smug, evil, perfectly devilish bastard.

Spit mixed with your juices coats his stubble, a pretty sheen glistening on the lower half of his face, somehow making him appear even more irresistible. His tongue flicks around his mouth, licking up more of you. Now that he knows your taste, he's never letting it go.

He tugs at his belt, removing it in one fluid motion before discarding it across the room. Popping the button of his slacks, pulling the zipper down and kicking them off his legs.

“So fucking good for me,” he groans to himself, watching your limbs quake, gripping his aching bulge with a heavy fist.

You tremble under his gaze, the lasting intensity of the two fierce orgasms he pulled from you tingling deliciously, preening at the godlike body on display before you. Your eyes sweep over every inch of warm, corded, muscle; thick and perfectly carved.

Your eyes alone could be his ruin– and he wouldn't want it any other way. Destroy him, break him, ruin him– just never stop looking at him.

Watching you, he takes in the softness of your face, the debauched and drunk glaze of your eyes. Even with the wrecked look muddling your vision, he's never felt so cherished by someone's stare in his life.

And he sees where they're burning to glimpse at.

Your eyes land between his thighs and even with briefs on, he’s fucking huge.

A shy chuckle brews in his stomach as your eyes widen, his hands shakily moving to discard his sticky briefs. Bucky’s thick, throbbing cock slaps against his stomach, wet and glistening, the tip red and leaking with proof of his arousal.

Holy shit– there’s no way he’s going to fit.

“Oh I’ll fit, bun.”

Shit, you said that out loud.

Earnest joy grips his face, boring his eyes into yours before positioning himself over you. A hand cradles your cheek, pulling himself in for a kiss while rubbing circles into your thigh.

Lips drape over yours, lamented fervor lacing the cavern of your mouth. Tongue and teeth clash together, his eagerness tracing your lips to memory with the plea of more.

He could kiss you forever if you'd let him.

The lasting taste of you on his tongue is tangy, filthy, your hands moving to the back of his neck and itching for more. “I love you,” he whispers, pressing his nose against yours.

You smile against his cheek, biting him softly before rolling yourself up against his cock, “I love you, Bucky.” His hips jolt forward, a dark chuckle rumbling in his throat.

God– the things you make him wanna do.

His hand grabs his cock, swiping it through your folds before nudging your sensitive clit, rubbing your wetness around him.

Pressing the tip of himself against you, he moves in teasing circles, lips sprawling across your chest. The way your body responds to his every move is addictive, it's not his fault you're such a good girl for him.

The tongue flicking against your nipple matches the motion of his cock, a breathy whimper etching itself to the side of his neck. "Bucky, please. No more teasing."

Sucking you into his mouth he moans, giving in to the flames raining down his spine as your fingers claw at his skin. They move to tangle with his hair, arching yourself further in his rousing tongue.

Can't help myself, bun, it's all your fault.

Tugging at your other nipple, rolling it sharply to distract you before kneading the entirety of your breast, squeezing with such need, you feel it in the tips of your toes.

Stroking his cock once, twice, before lining up with your entrance, Bucky pushes in slowly. Torturously, making you feel every ridge and throbbing vein of his dick. Rolling his hips, groaning as he feeds you inch by inch, his cock sending shocks straight through you.

"Almost there bun, doin' so good for me. Just a bit more," he moans, your cunt tighter than anything he's felt before. Kisses dance along your temple, distracting you from the agonizing stretch and himself from forcing his hips down.

Because fuck, he knows once he's in there's no coming out.

"Takin' me so well, sweet girl. I love you," a gasp leaves both of your lips, his hips kissing yours as he bottoms out, jittery in the feeling of your wet heat around him.

Heavy breaths fill the air, the stretch of his cock between your silken walls so overwhelming, you've never felt so full in your life.

“Please Bucky,” you whine, pressing your mouth against his jaw, prodding for a desperate kiss. “Fuck me, please,” you whine, wiggling your hips against him. He trembles, pulling out and thrusting back into you.

His hips lunge, slowly and forcefully, a moderate pace that's measured and precise. Bucky can't go any faster, not yet, it'll be over entirely too soon– he needs to memorize this. The feel of your wet walls finally wrapped around him is too good, sending his mind into overdrive. The slow pound of his hips steadily grants you both miserable bouts of maddening pleasure. “You feel so fucking good,” he moans, biting into your shoulder to ground himself.

Your hands claw at his back, nails digging into the bulging muscles as his heavy body propels his thrusts. He lifts your legs around his waist, driving his weight behind his strokes and pressing you into his mattress.

"Fit so perfect around me, feels incredible, so tight." He's right– it's so good. So fucking good you could scream.

You do.

Your nails pierce him, skin rippling and burning under your hold, wails of pleasure fluttering past his ears and encouraging him further. His chest constrains you, pushing down on you with such force, pining you under all his weight as he clutches the pillows.

Forehead resting against yours, he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head in ecstasy. "That's right bun, feels so good, doesn't it?"

He needs to hear more, needs to feel you ripping him piece by piece, until all he can do is give you everything you need.

The need to tear you apart; to submerge you in every ounce of desperation he breathes; to have you completely unravel around him, wrecked and clinging to him.

He wants to give you everything. He lifts up, looking down at his cock driving in and out of you, the stretch of your walls around his girth perfect with each snap of his hips. Bucky's head falls back, moaning at the lewd sounds his cock makes spearing into your wet heat.

It's so good, so so good, he needs to stay like this forever.

He untangles your legs from around him, lifting them up and around his arms, the force of his hips punching a spot so deep, your eyes roll back, the muscles in your stomach wrapping around each other with a sharp inhale.

"Bucky, baby I'm gonna cum," you wail, a sound so desperate, so wanton, it echoes vivaciously around the room, wrapping your cunt tighter around Bucky's dick.

"That's it bun, look at you. Sound so fucking good taking me. Fuck, you're chokin' me. Wish you could feel how good you are," he praises, each utterance met with a rough, punctuated stroke. You feel incredible, he's never gonna leave.

Bucky’s balls slap against the skin of your ass, the sound mixing with the salacious suck of your pussy and cries of pleasure. "Bucky, s'good. Right there baby don't stop," you moan.

He grasps your wrists and pins them above you, pressing you down with all of his strength into the mattress. His hips continue their painfully slow thrusts, every throb and twitch of his cock ingrained in the pulsating quiver of your walls.

"Fuck bunny, that's it, cum for me, be my good girl and cum," his teeth suck at your neck, branding bruises of passion and wells of pleasure to pool deep within your stomach. The tight winding of your muscles snap, crazed and pounding pleasure erupting through you.

"I love you, I love you so much," he groans, the pulsing and clench of your walls around him almost too much to handle.

He lifts your thighs higher, bending you in half.

"My good girl, so good for me. No one makes me feel like this," he barks, pushing you through the throes of your orgasm with a hasty jerk of his hips.

"M'yours Bucky," you wail, walls fluttering desperately around him, torrential swells of pleasure prickling every nerve of your body.

“Say it again,” he growls, hips stuttering for a moment.

“I’m yours, all yours Bucky,” you plead. He latches his mouth around your nipple, flicking and sucking it sharply between his teeth.

“Again,” a roaring moan rips through him. Bucky’s eyes pierce straight through you, wrapping themselves around you as he feels your heart thump viciously under him.

“Only yours,” your nails rake down his back, the sting urging him to bounce his hips harder against you. Your hands dig into the globes of his ass, thighs wrapping themselves higher up around his waist. “Please, Bucky. Please oh fuck,” your cries grow louder, hips desperate to meet his with every harsh thrust.

Bucky drops your legs, your weak limbs pliant and shaking in his hold. A strong arm lifts under your hips, plunging himself into you so deep, deeper and deeper until he has to remind you to breathe. His thighs start to shake, the grip your cunt has on his cock strangling him so firmly he's whining. "Fuck bun, so good for me, so good," he cries.

The sound of skin slapping and lewd squelching bellows in the room, moans and words of praise permeating every inch of Bucky's cabin. His hold forces you to feel every last inch of him, your hips meeting his with all the energy you can muster.

"Oh fuck– so fucking perfect for me, all mine," he growls, pounding his hips into you so meticulously, so deep you feel him in your chest. "Need one more bun, need to feel you one more time, please."

His hand dances down your skin, meeting your swollen clit with a harsh flick of his wrist. Oh shit it feels so good, too much Bucky too fucking good.

Your walls spasm uncontrollably, squeezing him so tightly he can't breathe, but fuck– it's heaven.

Don't stop please don't ever stop bounces around the room– was that your words or his? Your body arches higher and higher, another shattering orgasm bursting through you. Your walls scream around him, the wet unrelenting clench choking him so tightly he swears he sees stars across your skin.

"I love you," he moans, unable to control the aching sob of his dick any longer. His hips quiver, his high raging through you in thick, hot white ropes of his spend. Whimpers leave his lips as you milk him dry, cum dripping and ripped from him with every last stutter and weak move of his hips. Bucky collapses on top of you, still hard, deep inside you.

Your hands card through his hair, holding him closely to the swell of your chest. His body melts against you, shaky breaths tickling your skin with every trace of your fingers against his scalp.

"I love you," you whisper, "and I plan on it for a long time, as long as you'll let me."

Watery blue eyes peer up at you, his skin sticky, but clinging to yours so tightly for the first time. Tingling with a rosy tint, bashful and so safe under your stare, he's never felt words so profound in his life.

He's never felt so wanted.

You lull his head back down, softly sweeping over the lines of his face, sloping your fingers down the curves of his neck.

A whimper of content sounds softly from his lips, preening under your touch and squeezing himself tighter around you. And for the first time, he lets himself feel it.

Sleep taunts him so sweetly, the love he feels infused in the reverent tremble of your fingers, saturating him so deeply is enough to drag him under.

"All yours, Bucky," you sigh, softly planting your lips along his hairline.

Oh.

Oh yeah. He's fucked.

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