#the winter soldier smut

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2023, Day 6

Take The Time

Summary: Every morning you wake up from your worst night. The entire night relentlessly being chased. And each night your will to outrun him was waning. He didn’t seem so bad. And every morning you missed Bucky even more. He had been gone for so long, with no thought of returning. So why were you running from your nightmare? And why were you so so exhausted? When he touched you, why could you still feel it? And why was the rose he gave you now in your bed?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, implied non con (sleeping), chasing, stalking/obsession, kidnapping, brief bondage, voyeurism, unprotected sex, PIV sex, manhandling, taunting, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.7K

Previous

Series Masterlist

You jolt up in your bed. Chest heaving as you take short shallow breaths. Looking around to find you’ve managed to be in your bed. The recurring dream — nightmare leaves you feeling disoriented in the morning. Everything seems so real. And you wake up breathless.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you take count of your body. Things are sore. Like you had really been running. Had been chased all night by some masked man. You were running less and less. Slowing down because you wanted to see his face. You couldn’t tell if he was chasing you because he wanted to kill you or if he just wanted you.

He didn’t seem angry as he chased you. He seemed…worried. He was trying to warn you of something, but what? The only thing you cared about was finding where your boyfriend has been.

Picking up your phone, you make the same call as you do every morning. His best friend’s voice groans as he answers, “We haven’t heard from him. I told you I would let you know if there are any leads.”

“Steve, I don’t think he’s that far away,” your voice trails off as you look at your bedside table. A single pink rose and no thorns. There was only one person who ever did that for you.

Steve repeats your name several times before you realize he had been speaking, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Could you please answer me?”

“Steve, there’s…I have a pink rose, and the thorns have been pulled off.”

“I’m on my way,” Steve was well aware of Bucky’s favorite thing to leave behind for you. It was always a pink rose. Red was cliche, and harsh. Pink was your color. Delicate, feminine, sweet. And every time he painstakingly pulled off each of the thorns. No one would ever hurt you while he was around. Not even an inanimate object or a plant.

You walk into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror, you look like shit. A few weeks without sleeping would do that to you. You wanted to tell Steve not to come by. What good would it do? If it was Bucky that left that rose behind, he didn’t want to be seen. If it was someone else, Bucky no longer cares for your safety. Your will in the real world was dwindling just as much as your dream self. You didn’t want to chase for him anymore. You just wanted to know he was okay.

——

You turn to look over your shoulder, and the masked man is gaining on you. A few more strides, and he would be close enough to capture you. You pump your arms harder, and run just a bit faster. It is exhilarating to know that the monstrosity of a man was putting up such a fight because of you.

Reaching out his hand, you swerve out of the way before he actually touches you. Giggling at the fact that he missed. He growls under his mask, and it causes you to slow enough that he pulls you into his body with body arms.

“You’re not fighting,” his voice is deep on your neck, and your body goes limp. You shake your head no because you didn’t care. The thrill was now gone, and replaced with something more. Lust.

There is something in his voice that was oddly familiar, and your body craved it more than you did. “Mmm,” he sniffs up your neck as his hands roam over your body. Dipping lower, until his hands wrap around your thighs. Jerking them apart, and his hands fully explore between your legs.

“Heaven,” he moans, and you lean your head back on his shoulder. This shouldn’t be as comforting as it is, but you’re prepared to let him have you. It was only a dream after all.

He palms you over your panties, because of course you’re just running around in Bucky’s shirt and panties just like you went to sleep. Letting you get good and comfortable in his embrace before slipping off his glove. His nimble fingers move under the elastic of your panties, and you moan when he enters three fingers into your body.

Giving you no time to adjust before his hand barrels into you. You have to bite onto his neck the harder he pushes. His moans and grunts add to your pleasure.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine,” ringing in your ear.

——

Your eyes burst open, and you take a haggard breath. A deep soreness in your core. Your face has been planted in your pillow, and now you struggle to get up. How tense were you in your sleep to cause this much tenderness?

You whimper, twisting your body over, and there lies another rose. This time with a glove. Not just any glove. His. You aren’t dreaming. And you want him. But he’s not Bucky.

You cover your face with your hands allowing the tears you have held in for too long pour out. Rivers of saline drift down your face when Steve rushes to your side, “What is going on?”

“You’ve been here?”

“All night,” he looks to the table, and grits his teeth, “Son of a bitch. Where did that come from?”

“H-h-he had to have left it, but who is he? Steve!” You scream as he storms off. “Steve!” He doesn’t turn back to look at you. “Who is he?”

“I think it’s Bucky,” you shake your head no, but he doesn’t see. “The rose. The glove. I think we found him, but not before he found you,” he spins around to look at you. Covering your face with his hand when everything fades to black.

——

Groggily you open up your eyes, and try to move. Stuck. This isn’t a dream. This shouldn’t be a reality. Roses. Gloves. Bucky. Masked man. Steve. Tied up, and stretched out. What was happening?

There was no way to get out of your predicament. The cuffs on your arms and legs are tight. Keeping you wide and spread for whoever was coming in here. The good thing is you have clothes. For now.

This is so stupid. Steve did this. There is a weird recurring dream, and Bucky is still missing. But Steve said…Bucky found you. Lights turn on into your hellhole of a room and your eyes clench close.

The person in the room inhales deeply before your bed dips down with your weight, and you peek your eyes open, “Steve?”

“You know, you have caused a lot of problems for us,” he begins. His hand taps you on your leg, and you pull it back. Hearing a low rumble outside of the door.

“Us?”

“His mind is just too powerful. Your stupid fucking rose alerted me of just why he can’t complete a damn mission because he keep going to see your pathetic self,” Steve’s hand slams on the bed, and a feral scream echoes into the hall.

“Ahh, shut up! I am not talking to you!” He screams, standing up to open the door, pulling in the masked man, and you retreat away. Being tied up was the moving difficult. “See, she’s not hurt,” the man turns and glares at Steve, pointing a finger at your restraints. “She’ll run away.”

The man shakes his head no, turning to look at you with the softest of eyes, and you know who he is instantly. “What did you do to him?” You pout, and Bucky tries to step towards you

“He’s a weapon,” Steve shrugs his arms. “But you — you invade his mind so much that he can’t even be that. And it wasn’t until he left that fucking pink rose for you that I realized where he was going when he wasn’t on a leash. My god, I should have known. You have poisoned him from the beginning. But I am giving the two of you a gift. I am allowing him to sleep in here with you when his brain isn’t being turned into mush. And when he finally forgets, we’ll dispose of you.”

Bucky growls, pushing Steve up against the wall. His forearm presses into his neck, but Steve laughs maniacally. “I can make you watch as we destroy her. Loosen your grip,” Bucky backs away immediately, keeping a protective stance around you.

“Sweetheart, if I let your precious boyfriend have fun with you, will you try and escape?” Those crystal blue eyes turn to look at you with the most pleading face. He isn’t as vocal as Bucky once was. He looks scared, and you can’t leave him.

“I won’t escape,” your lip trembles. You wouldn’t escape now. But you’re also taking Bucky with you.

“Good. Soldier, have your fun. Pump her full of cum, beat her, fuck her until she passes out, I don’t care. You understand he might not be the man you remember. He’s a machine.”

Steve turns on his heels, walking out of the room, “And you’re a monster. Bucky?” His head tilts to the side as he walks closer to you. Gently undoing your binding, and you sit up in the bed to remove his mask. Your hand presses gently up against his cheek, and you sob out his name.

“I thought I lost you. Won’t you say something?”

He struggles to say your name, and you brush away his hair, crawling into his lap. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. I got your roses. They can’t take away your heart, huh? Just your words,” his gloved hand pets up and down your back, and it infuriates you. “Take that off. I want to feel your skin.”

“Yeah — yes,” he says robotically, removing the material that keeps him from you. His hand touches your back, and you melt into him. He smells different, but that underlying musk of Bucky that was his natural scent is still there.

“Miss — you.”

“I missed you, too. Dreamed about you every night.”

“Not — dream. Me,” sitting back, you look up at him. Giving him the softest chaste kiss. “Me.”

“I did feel you. But you weren’t really chasing me were you?” He shakes his head smiling. “So I was dreaming, and you were touching?”

“Sorry,” his glove free hand pets up and down your sensitive neck before struggling to put it away. Bucky loved feeling his hand around your neck, and now there is a fear to touch you in that way.

“What if,” you lick your dry lips, eyes flitting around his face when you get the courage to speak. “What if I let you touch me? I’m not dreaming, or sleeping. I’m here. Apparently I am your toy to play with, so play. You…you can put me back in the restraints if you need to”

His brow furrows, and he shakes his head no. “You don’t have to hunt me. You don’t have to wait until I’m sleeping, I’m right here telling you I want you to have me. I’m leaving. But not without you. And…we’ll get out of this. We always do.”

Bucky lifts you off his lap to lay flat on the bed. Lifting up his shirt, he cheekily smiles at your covered core before rubbing the shirt in between his fingers. “Mine?”

You pull his hand down to your center. Letting him flatten his hand against you, “Yours,” a deep low growl rumbles up his chest, followed by a sigh. “It’s always been yours, Bucky.”

Sitting back up, you remove his shirt, and he looks over to the corner of the room, cameras. “Let them watch. I just want you,” you shimmy out of your panties, becoming completely nude while he is still in his gear. “However you want me,” you urge him closer. Taking off his other glove so you can weave your fingers in his.

Touch with Bucky has always been electric, and this is no different. He straightens up with your touch. Eyes opening up to show a bit more life to them. Getting to his knees, he undoes his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his cock, and you chirp at the sight of him.

“Yours,” he cocks his brow up, before using his thick body to spread you out further. Grabbing the base of his cock, he flicks your clit with his tip. Over and over again until you’re completely needy and squirming for him. Your arousal leaks out onto the bed, but this Bucky doesn’t stop. He wants to torture you with pleasure.

“Bucky!” Your fingers cling to his forearm as you urge him closer to you, but he still sits there flicking your clit, and teasing your entrance. “Bucky, take it. Take all of me. You already have.”

His breathing stutters, and your eyes blow wide open as he thrusts himself completely into you. Giving you seconds to adjust to his wide girth before he rails into you. There isn’t anything sweet about this moment. You’ve had sweet. This is Bucky reclaiming what was always his. Raw and forceful, and all James Bucky Barnes.

His hands slam above your head onto the bed frame. Wood splinters above your head, creaking under his pressure, but you only see Bucky. Much too dressed for your liking, but it was him. Powerful. Dangerous. Hard. But the softness in his eyes remains.

He is everything that you have ever wanted, and so much more. Even in this state, he is perfect. More than any man could ever amount to. He is Bucky. And he is yours. There is a fearful look on his face now. But he never gave up. He always finds you. He promised you he would, and he kept that promise.

Pulling himself out of you he wraps his arm around your waist, and forces you onto your knees, pushing your head down into the mattress before grabbing at your hips, and cramming himself back inside. You grip tightly to the sheets, centering yourself, and trying to remain present. This was always your favorite position. Letting Bucky use you completely, and it makes you a mess.

Squirting out how good it feels, and he goes harder. The bed lurches with every rock into your body. Eyes rolling into the back of the bed as you thank the stars above for giving Bucky back to you.

“And you think she is going to be the secret?” A man looks over towards Steve who was scowling at the monitor. He hated watching Bucky with you. He never deserved you. And no matter what he did, Bucky always found you. Desperation caused this, and he still found you.

“He’s not fighting anymore, is he?” Steve asks the man. Bucky just wanted you. You were his biggest weakness.

“Maybe he wouldn’t have fought, if you didn’t tease him. What was it you told him? You got to sink into her every fucking night? That you were going to breed her like your little bitch?” Steve shrugs his shoulders, trying to fight his impending hard on.

“I’m guessing you never got to fuck her?”

“It’s more complicated than that. She was only worried about Bucky. She didn’t even think about…I didn’t have time to try because that asshole kept needing to see her, and now she’s here, and…I hate him,” Steve grunts as Bucky smirks up at the camera.

Tilting his head back he lets out a guttural moan as he goes harder and faster than he ever has. Your body is completely flat on the bed now, trembling with pleasure as you look back at Bucky. He is different, and somehow still the same. He is enjoying himself, and your pleasure has always been his.

Hands hold tightly to your ass, spreading you apart so he can watch where the two of you connect. “I love you, Bucky,” your voice is barely audible, but he heard it. Crying out your name as he slams into yourself one last time before his thick cream paints your walls, and you moan at the warmth of his added seed.

“I love you, too,” such sweet sounds coming from him. Slowly he pulls himself out of you, and lifts up your ass, pointing to your gaping hole before looking back at the camera. “Mine. Not yours.”

“Who…who’s watching.”

“Him. Shh, go to sleep. Don’t worry. You’re mine.”

“And you are mine.”

“Forever and…”

“Always,” he would forever be yours. Nothing could ever change that. And nothing ever would.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @missusbarnes-rogers @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @buckybarnesisdaddy @magnificentsaladllama @tittittoee

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x fem!reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x you #bucky barnes smut #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic

[babyjakes]

earn it. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | august '23 general requests blurb night

summary | if you want your daddy's cock, you're gonna have to earn it.

pairing | daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader

warnings | ddlg. fairly soft!daddy!bucky but he does force an orgasm out of reader. thigh riding. begging/pleading. fingering/clit play. (implied) multiple orgasms. overstimulation. praise. petnames. squirting. implied p in v.

word count | 308

requested by @vase-of-lilies | I'm excited about your event! If I could request a Bucky fic where the reader is super needy and just wants to ride his cock, but Bucky is a menace so he makes her ride his thigh first, then he takes super good care of her after being such a good girl for him, so she earns lots of overstimulation because she listened to him the first time! I hope that it is not too much or too little! I just love needy!reader and menace to society!Bucky lol!

an | okay soooo i haven't written for bucky in ages but i really really really wanted to write this request for you friend, thank you so much for sending it in 🥺🤍 i looove thigh riding and overstim so this was just the perfect little idea, thank you for sending it in and i hope you enjoy friend!!! <333

"Please Daddy, pretty please!"

"I'll be good for you, Daddy— I'll be sooo good if you let me!"

"Pleeease Daddy, need your cock! Need it in me, please, please, please!"

Your desperate words fall on deaf ears as your daddy bounces you on his bare thigh, his big hands supporting you by the waist as you sniffle and whine into his shoulder. "Shhh, pumpkin. C'mon, give me one more. Cum one more time for Daddy, and then you can have it, sweet girl."

"N-no Daddy, please," you beg again, your little hips jerking as he grinds you down more forcefully against his flexed thigh, the thick bands of his muscles hitting right up against your weakest spots.

"But you're doing so good, baby. So good for me, yeah? Just wanna see you cum one more time. You know how much I love seeing you fall apart like this. Doesn't it feel good, baby doll? Don't you like riding Daddy's thigh?"

"Y-ye-es Daddy, but—"

"Shhh," he shushes you again, reaching a hand down to move things along by rubbing your poor, puffy clit. Your hands dig into his shoulder blades as you squeeze your eyes shut, your head pounding as you hear Bucky whisper, "C'mon, baby. Let go for me. That's it..."

He coos loving praises as you squirt helplessly against his leg. He keeps rocking you on top of him as you ride the waves of your orgasm, letting out the sweetest little hums and moans against the familiar safety of his t-shirt.

"That's my girl," he murmurs proudly, kissing the side of your head as you float back down from your high. "Did so good for Daddy, 'm so proud of you, angel. Now let's get you all spread out on your back and ready for me, hmm? Think you've finally earned a good fucking from Daddy."

#august ‘23 blurb night #eun's writing #earn it #bucky barnes #x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #daddy!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes headcanon #the winter soldier #the winter soldier smut #the winter soldier fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan smut #marvel #marvel smut #mcu #mcu smut #avengers #avengers smut

[renova-writes]

dating bucky barnes aesthetic

It's time, you've come a long way Open the blinds, let me see your face You wouldn't be the first renegade To need somebody

renegade, taylor swift

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky aesthetic #bucky barnes aesthetic #winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier smut #the winter soldier #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes hot #dating bucky barnes #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes daddy #bucky

[avengersfantasies]

A Night With Him in Bucharest - 1

Summary: While on vacation to forget about your ex, you run into a handsome Bucky Barnes at a bar. The two of you have a much-needed one night stand, and after you return from your vacation and having lost all contact with him, you discover you're pregnant.

What to expect: Smut

“Tryin’ to forget your problems too, huh?” a man’s voice spoke from beside you. You turned your head to see a handsome man with shoulder-length brunette hair, bright blue eyes, and the perfect amount of scruff on his face. He wore a red Henley with a black and brown jacket over it, black leather gloves, and a black baseball cap – dark blue jeans and black boots to match.

            “Somethin’ like that” you chuckled – the blood rushing to your face as you started to blush. It didn’t slip past the man, and he responded with a chuckle of his own. “How ‘bout you?”

“Ah,” he smacked his lips, “my problems can’t be forgotten so easily.” You felt him eyeing you up and down. “I’m Bucky,” he smiled. You introduce yourself to the handsome man and finished off the drink you had been sipping. “Next round’s on me.” You smiled and agreed to let him buy the next round of drinks. “So, what’re you hiding from?”

You chuckled and looked down. “Uh…my ex.”

“Yeah?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Well,” you began – throwing back a shot of vodka, “he uh, well…he could never satisfy me, said it was my fault, then I found out he was going behind my back and screwing the whole city.”

He looked at you in shock and chuckled incredulously. “Your fault?” He exhaled and smirked at you. “Must’ve been blind then.”

You chuckled, and the two of you sat at the bar talking and getting to know each other. The more he spoke, the more the sound of his voice lit a fire in your core – making you want to try to take this further.

“What do ya say we uh…get out of here?” His voice was low – his eyes full of mischief and lust.

“I’d say lead the way,” you bit your lip.

As if there was a fire, Bucky led you to his apartment. “Sorry it’s a little…undecorated,” he chuckled nervously as he opened the door and stepping inside with you. “I haven’t really had time to –”

Before he could finish, your lips were on his – pushing him against the door and closing it. Smirking against your lips, his had reached back and locked the door before leading you over to the mattress he slept on. It wasn’t plush or fancy, but you didn’t care. At that moment, you just needed him to put out the burning fire he’d started in your core. He hovered over you – sliding your shirt off and then your bra – his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, and he sucked on it – your back arching at the wave of pleasure.

“Off,” you demanded through heavy breaths – pulling at his jacket and shirt. He helped you take his shirt off, and you placed kisses on his chest – your hands reaching down to his jeans. You cupped his bulge and giggled at the sound that fell from his lips.

“Gonna fuck you,” he growled – taking your pants and panties off in one motion. “Nice and good.”

“Please,” you moaned – taking his pants and boxers off before wrapping your hand around his cock. “Fuck, you’re huge,” you growled in his ear.

“Yeah?” he panted – sliding his fingers in between your soaking wet folds. “Seems this pussy wants my huge cock.” He took his fingers from you and licked them clean – moaning at the taste of you. “Can I have a taste?” You nodded breathlessly – unable to speak coherently. Immediately, his face was in between your thighs – his tongue licking up your arousal as it dripped from you. One hand gripped his hair – holding you close to your cunt and keeping the pressure and the other played with your nipples. Each moan his mouth made against your clit brought you closer to bliss, and when he added two of his metal fingers, you gasped in ecstasy.

“Fuck!” you screamed – your hips bucking against him. However, instead of letting your coil snap, he slammed himself into your warm and wet pussy. You gasped – letting out a silent scream as the force of his thrust was enough to give you your first orgasm.

“So warm,” he grunted – moving in and out at a brutal pace. “So tight.” Your head was thrown back in ecstasy – giving him full access to your neck and chest. You moaned as he moved and sucked hickeys on your breasts – furiously pounding your pussy. “Gonna ruin you for any other man,” he panted. “Gonna have this pussy red and raw…you’ll be feelin’ me for days.”

“Please…,” you begged pathetically – sounding like a child begging for candy. “Bucky…please.”

His thumb found its way to your clit – rubbing the throbbing nub – enough to push you over the edge. Your walls clenched him hard.

“Fuck yes, baby,” Bucky groaned – his thrusts becoming sloppy and his body beginning to shake, and you screamed – letting him fuck you through your orgasm. Your legs tried to close on either side of him – your body shaking and bucking underneath him. “Oh no you don’t,” he warned – grabbing your legs, pulling them apart, and pushing them towards your chest – his hands on the back of your thighs. Somehow, this allowed him to hit a deeper spot – pulling another scream of ecstasy and wave of pleasure through your body. Your fingers clawed at his chest as he exploded inside of you – his warm cum coating your walls – the bulge of the tip of his cock showing in your lower stomach. He screamed and moaned into your neck as he filled you to the brim. You felt each rope hit your insides – you didn’t know a man could come so much or that your body could hold all that he was giving you. When he softened, he pulled out of you and let his arousal leak out of you – falling next to you on the mattress as the two of you caught your breath.

            You had returned from your vacation in Bucharest two months ago, and you began to feel that something was off. You were getting sick – headaches, vomiting, lack of appetite, and fatigue. Thinking that you may have the flu, you took yourself in for a checkup. When filling out the paperwork, you hesitantly circled the yes option for the “have you been sexually active in the past three months?” question. Once you finished, you turned in the clipboard and waited patiently. After scrolling on your phone for about ten minutes, your name was called, and you went back to meet with the nurse. You sat down in a chair as the nurse looked over your paperwork.

            “Since you’ve been sexually active recently, we’re going to do a pregnancy test,” she informed you. “Is that okay?”

            “That’s fine,” you nodded.

You watched as the nurse took out a pregnancy test and handed it to you. She told you where the bathroom was. Without a worry, you went into the bathroom and took the test. After all, you were on birth control when you and Bucky had hooked up two months ago. There was no possibility you could be pregnant. When you finished, you came back into the room and handed it to the nurse.

“If it’s positive, would you like a blood test to be done?” the nurse asked. “It’ll tell us how far along you are.”

You nodded. “If I am, yes, but I’ve been on birth control for years.”

A few tense minutes went by before the nurse looked at the test. “Well,” she began – turning the test over to you, “you are pregnant.” Your eyes widened at the result of the test.

“H-How?” you asked – your expression clearly shocked at learning that you were currently carrying the baby of a man you had a one night stand with.

“Birth control isn’t always affective,” she told you as she grabbed for the blood test kit. You held your arm out and let her prick your finger for a drop of blood. “There are options for you though.”

You nodded as she let go of your hand. “It was just a one night stand,” you whispered. “I don’t even know his last name.” Tears began to well up in your eyes. “I-I thought that with birth control, I couldn’t…,”

“I’ve seen it happen before,” she admitted. “It’s extremely rare, but it has happened.” The nurse looked at the second test. “It looks like you’re a little over two months along…when was this one night stand? Maybe we could give you some resources to help find the father.”

“A little over two months ago,” you quietly admitted. “All I know is his first name and that he speaks Romanian and English.” The nurse nodded – her expression soft and understanding.

“If you would like for us to upload the DNA of the baby prebirth, we can,” she informed you. “If his DNA is in the system, it’ll help find him.”

You nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’m going to have you lie down on the bed so that we can get an ultrasound tech in here.”

You did as told and waited for the tech to come in. A few minutes later, the tech came into the room and greeted you with a smile. The gel he put on your belly was cold – causing you to shiver. Grabbing the transducer probe, the tech began rubbing the gel over your lower stomach. Watching the image on the screen with him, you gasped when you saw the tiny bean.

            “Congratulations,” he smiled – printing out a photo of the fetus with an arrow pointed to it that was labeled baby.

            “Push, push, push,” the doctor encouraged you – the pain of delivery bringing you to tears. You screamed out – gripping the sides of the bed as hard as you could. “You’re doing amazing,” he praised. “You’re almost there.”

Your breaths were heavy, and you wanted nothing more than for your baby to be here and out of you. You were terrified at the fact that you would be a single parent, but you were determined to give your little one the best life possible. After what seemed like an eternity, you finally felt the pressure give, and the sound of a crying baby filled the room.

“It’s a boy!” one of the nurses announced. You fell back in tears as the nurses placed your newborn on your chest. You held him close and rubbed his back – letting him grip onto your finger.

“Hi there,” you spoke softly. “I’m your mommy.”

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction #the winter soldier smut

[frostironfudge]

Won't Let You Shatter - Bucky Barnes (smut)

Summary: A hard day has you wanting to give over control, Bucky's right there to take over, he's hold you and won't let you shatter. Part of my This Feeling I've Got (Bucky Barnes AU). This piece can be read as a standalone.

Pairings: FATWS!Bucky Barnes x Plus Sized! Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, minors dni, bucky comforting the reader, cuddling, fingering, knife kink, hands tied, dom/sub dynamic, bucky calls the reader kitten, praise kink, overstimulation, p in v, slight oral fem receiving, thigh riding, mirror sex. if i've missed anything lmk, enjoy!

Word Count: 2635

Masterlist // AO3 // This Feeling I've Got AU Masterlist

The day was heavy on your shoulders, the tired sigh you let out reached Bucky’s ears before the twist of the lock of the door. His feet carry him over to you, warm arms pull you close. Pulling you into safety, encasing you into peace.

His vibranium fingers, run over your scalp, you relax against him further. When was he able to bring you onto the bed you don’t remember. Bucky does quick work of your shirt buttons, opening it and he lowers your jeans down, as you kick them off.

You push against his own t-shirt, needing to feel him close, needing to have him consume you. He removes the barrier from his skin, pulling you flush against his chest. Your face buried in the crook of his neck. 

Bucky resumes the soft movements upon you. His heart relaxing as the tension eaves your shoulders, you melt against him. 

“Tough day?” He knows not to ask too much too soon, to allow you to process the day and then reach out to him, to pull him into your world. To hold onto him as an anchor, as a lifeline.

You nod, still encased into his warmth, the scent of his body wash and cologne aiding you to latch onto him, to bring yourself out of the dark waters that tried to drown you.

You wanted him to know, wanted to tell him everything. Needed to tell him, but right now all that you wanted was to feel him, be near him. Bask in his presence, thrive in the sunshine that he is to you.

Bucky softly hushes you, the first trace of tears warm but cold against his skin as the weight of you day reveals itself to him wordlessly. 

he rubs his hands along your back, your fingers tighten around his bicep as the break down gets to you.

“I’ve got you, kitten. Let go for me, here to hold you. Won’t let you shatter.” He assures, each word accompanied by a loving touch, accompanied by a kiss to your head, temple, cheek, shoulder. 

You sniffle, palms tracing over his chest as your tears are wiped away by Bucky. He kisses the wet skin of your cheeks, eyes softening as he traces his thumb over your cheekbone. 

“Need you.” You murmur, your breath fans across his palm.

“Kitten,” He wants to be sure, this shouldn’t be something you want to just numb yourself.

“Please.” You look up at him, fresh tears pooling in your eyes, “Need you to take control.” You add.

Bucky nods, pressing a kiss to your lips, it moves from slow and sweet to wanton and needy, your fingers move to tug on his hair, Bucky shifts, above you, pressed against you. 

Your legs wrap around his hips, Bucky groans as you arch against him. 

“Behave, Kitten.” He warns, breaking the kiss and brushing them against your jaw. His stubble brushes against your skin, as he traces kisses to your sternum.

As he sits back, you watch him drink you in, licking his lips. The air around him changes, you watch him plan it out in his mind. 

“Go kneel in front of the mirror, Kitten. Be my good girl.” He instructs, you scramble to comply, kneeling in front of the mirror.

“Good girl,” He praises palm smoothening over your head, you lean into his touch.

“Hands behind you, such a good kitten.” He praises, you whimper as he binds your hands together.

Goosebumps then bloom across your flesh from your shoulders. Left side trailed by his vibranium fingertips and the right carried by the soft gleam of his knife as he cuts into the strap of your bra. 

The material falls forward. Bucky’s lips trace over your collarbone, warmth contrasted by cold as he drags the blade softly across the tops of your breasts. The tip of the blade presses in more when you take a deep breath. He holds it with precision not to pierce your skin. 

Bucky watches as you squirm, the heat of your skin under his, the way the fabric of your panties darkened by your arousal. He felt only slightly bad that he was still wearing his jeans, cock straining hard as little whimpers left your sweet lips. 

The tip of the knife softly scrapes against your skin with each breath you take. Your eyes shift to Bucky, he hums in approval at the way you respond. Then a smirk takes over his features as he thinks you should get some relief.

In a few swift movements your legs are spread further apart, Bucky still remains behind you but you are now perched on his thigh. You close your eyes, breaking the gaze upon yourself and him in the mirror as he contracts his muscle, your hips roll against him.

“Need to be careful, Kitten.” Bucky warns in reminder, knife moves along your neck, then the handle has him titling your head back. Your shoulders retract as he tugs on the rope your hands are tied with, he smirks as he catches your thighs clench around his, aching with need. 

Your vision clouds with his deep azure, eyes hold the lust and power he feels, you want him to wreck you, take you apart then put you back together. 

“Have to pay attention, understood?” He reminds, gripping your hair and turning your gaze back to the the mirror. You watch as he switches hands, left now holding the blade as it is dragged down your back. 

The feel of the metal has you arch, making you moan his name as your hips grind down on his thigh, the material on your panties and his jeans rub deliciously against your clit.

“I know, Kitten. I know.” He affirms, right hand tracing over your thigh, the knife flattens against your lower back, he moves it around, to your side.

“Look at you. Listening to me so well.” Bucky admires your body, soft, needy, skin so beautiful. 

“So fucking beautiful.” He places kisses from your mid back to your shoulder, then up your neck. Altering between open mouth kisses, little bites and leaving his claim in the form of blooming love-bites. 

Bucky admires the way you squirm, trying to stay still, trying to watch him take you apart. 

A soft tear draws your attention, the fabric of your panties torn from one end, the knife traces over your abdomen, circling around your belly button. 

Your stomach contracts and your clit begs for attention.

The fabric meets the same fate on the other side, torn under your wet, aching cunt, and sitting above his thick thigh. 

“Look at you, haven’t touched you yet so wet. Go on grind down on my thigh, I know you want to I know you can do it.”

You bite your lip, gaze lifting from where you sat perched in his thigh to his darkening eyes, you begin to move. Incredibly aware as the knife keeps tracing over you. The binds that tug on your hands, the way Bucky watches you.

You moan, your pace picking up. Bucky keeps his gaze locked with you, his knife cutting into the remaining piece of your bra. It falls to the floor and he admires your breasts bouncing with each rock of your hips. You feel your orgasm looming close, wanting to burn brightly

His fingers trace around your nipple, as does the tip of the knife. You moan, head thrown against his shoulder. Picking up the pace. he rpeats the movements, then switches the knife from one hand to the other, equal attention to each nipple.

Your thighs constrict his, a mess of his name and pleases leaving your lips.

“Go on my sweet, sweet Kitten, cum for me.” he allows and the  coil snaps, you shudder in his grasp, Bucky sets the knife aside and holds you. 

His flesh hand rubs along your inner thighs as the after shocks still run through you. Only after a few moments you realise your bindings are cut through, your hands trace over his, Bucky places a soft kiss to you shoulder.

“How are we feeling, Kitten?” He enquires, soft caresses still upon your flesh.

“Green.” You murmur, he nods. 

“Did so good for me.” He praises as his fingers circle your clit. you grind down against his fingers.

“Hands around me.” He orders, pace increasing, your hips begin to lift from him. Bucky

Your arms encircle around his neck, eyes trained on his fingers, the wet squelch echoing round the room.

“So fucking pretty like this, all spread out for me.” His voice deep and rough, you only moan in response. Bucky watches as you begin to tremble, your orgasm drawing close, your fingers tug on his hair.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky—,” You pant, he repeats your name with equal frevor, asking you to make a mess of his fingers, letting you coat him so he can taste you.

His words and the sight of his mouth parted, starving for you. Stars bloom across your vision as your second orgasm takes over. Your muscles contract jaw slack, Bucky admires you his fingers not leaving your overstimulated clit. 

You try to push back his hands, brain fogging as he coaxes you.

“So good for me, Kitten. You will give me another one before I fill you up, going to fuck you right here.” He whispers, your fingers wrap around his forearms arms. His blue jeans darkened by your arousal, almost mimicking the dark shade of his irises.

Bucky bites his lip as your nails dig into his flesh, leaving tiny crescents in their wake. he can feel each little indent even on his vibranium arm though it won’t carry the proof of your attempt to prevent the over stimulation.

“Look at you, so pretty, so beautiful. You can give me one more right?” He questions, chuckling when you nod, eyes glazed over. 

“You love watching me fuck you, don’t you Kitten?” He questions, his hips move against your lower back, both of you now kneeling, two thick fingers inside you and the cold vibranium against your clit has you beg him.

“Bucky, please, please, please…” you babble, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, every little tremor, every little after shock wrecking through you. 

Your senses numbed, Bucky coaxing everything out of you, holding you as you fall apart for him a third time. Trembling in his grasp. 

“So good to me, so very good for me. Proud of you, Kitten.” he murmurs, now in front of you, his lips peppering kisses over your cheeks, forehead and against your lips. You still tremble, knees wanting to Buckle, Bucky licks his fingers clean as he helps you lay back on the carpet.

His hands roam over you, eyes full of adoration and awe, the way your skin feels in his palms. The way your curves are memorised into his skin. They way he could map out your freckles with his eyes closed. The way he has written words onto your skin. Etched his being onto your heart.

He stands getting rid of his remaining layers of clothing. You watch as his length springs free, tip red and coated with a slight sheen of pre cum.

Bucky settles between your bent knees, cunt still wet and inviting. He places soft kisses to each of your thighs, then over your folds, licking a line upto your clit then sucking on the sensitive nub. 

You preen, hands trying to search for an anchor. Bucky hums at your taste, 

“Did so well for me, Kitten, just want one more from you okay?”  He bargains, thumb running soothing circles over your entrance that send jitters through you.

“Can’t, can’t—,” Your head rolls to the side, Bucky places a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Look at me,” he encourages, a softness as he repeats the request with your name.

“Eyes on me baby, you can do it.” He whispers, your hands move to grip at his biceps. Both of you moan in unison as he sheaths himself in your warmth.

“Fuck so damn, tight and warm.” He groans as you clench around him.

“Such a pretty pussy, taking me so well. Always so good to me, Kitten.” Bucky looks from down to back to your face, eyes closed and scrunched in pleasure. He pulls out, then moves back in, your hips arch, legs wrapping around his waist.

You can’t think of anything, just Bucky consumes every fibre of your being, the feel of his thick, veiny cock inside you the pleasurable stretch. His grunts and moans all because of you. 

You look up at him, his face blissed out, his eyes meet yours and you reach up brushing your lips against his as he picks up the pace. The brush of his happy trail along your clit with each thrust has you mewling, the haziness slowly overtaking you as Bucky unravels another layer, his pace relentless.

His words of praise coaxing you into deeper bliss, he movers your right leg higher, placing it over his shoulder diving deeper into you. His cock keeps hitting the spot that has you trembling at a quicker pace, your legs shake and Bucky smirks, your head thrown back as your cum undone around him, he doesn’t stop fucking you through the orgasm. Putting his weight on his metal hand he brings his flesh hand to your clit, thumb rubbing frantic circles as his hips stutter.

“Fill me up, Bucky please, fuck, you feel so good, so full.” you beg, needing him to be pushed to the brink. 

Even though his pace is relentless and your clit aches with the overstimulation you can’t help actively clenching around his cock wanting to have him fall apart.

Bucky’s moans are one after the other, every clench every arch your body does against him driving him to his brink. 

He knows you need him, he wants to meet you there in the afterglow, your nails scrape down his back, needy begging for more for him, he knows he’s pushing you too far but you’re doing so well.

“Fuck, Kitten, going to fill you up.” he says in warning before his hips still, “i’ve got you, I’ve got you. Let go for me.”

You will your eyes to open as you cum undone once again, you watch as his face contorts into pleasure, mouth open, lips parted pink and kiss bitten. Bucky’s soft hair falls across his forehead, trembling fingers reach out to run your hand through his hair.

A loud moan of your name registers in your mind and Bucky resumes thrusting into you, your hips fall back body exhausted. Bucky stays inside you as he pants, aftershocks running though him.

He meets your gaze then, a smile taking over his features as you look blissed out beneath him, slowly, he pulls out of you. Laying next to you on the carpet, pulling you against him.

You both don’t speak, letting your lingering touches to the job. caresses, lips brushing against heated skin. You sigh contended, Bucky kisses your nose making you giggle.

“How do you feel?” He questions, you intertwine your hand with his left, thumb tracing over his hand. He breathes easier at the contact, the signals letting him feel every small divot and touch.

“Like I’m going to feel you inside me for days.” You hum, “So great.” you grin up at him, Bucky laughs.

“Good, my plan was successful then.” He grins as you reach up to play with his hair, he brushes his nose against yours again.

“Thank you.” You murmur, holding onto his chin, thumb brushing over his stubble. 

“Don’t have to thank me, Kitten. You need me in any way. I’m here for you.” He assures, sealing his words with a soft kiss.

-x-

bucky permanent tags: @slutforsexyseabass

permanent tags: @stevesmewmew @pandaxnienke

special tag: @elle14-blog1

#bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x yn #the winter soldier x you #frostironfudge #james buchanan barnes x you #white wolf #bucky is the best #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #sebastian stan #james barnes smut #fatws x reader #fatws bucky

[sebastiansluts]

Request: both bucky and the winter soldier make you lick their sweaty bodies( balls,armpits,pecs,feet) and force you to drink their piss

this one is more thots written out than a full on fic

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Winter Solder x Reader; dub/non-con; sweat kink, body worship- balls, armpits, pecs, feet; piss kink- piss drinking,

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

Okay but being held down by the winter soldier while bucky is holding your head into his pecs? Bucky is straddling your hips, his legs holding yours down effortlessly, his hands on his pecs, framing them and pushing them together around your head, smothering you. Your hands were held down by the impossible grip of the winter soldier. He held you immobile as you licked desperately at bucky’s chest. 

Bucky finally letting you breathe, but only for a moment before he’s got you buried in his armpit, smelling his sweat and breathing in his stink as you licked at him. Until the winter soldier gets impatient, and he shoves bucky aside, dragging his balls over your face, teabagging you as you scrambled to reach for something, anything, finding bucky’s hands. He grips yours hands tightly keeping you where he wants you, letting the soldier do what he wants. The soldier sits back and pushes his feet into your face, dragging the soles of them over your tongue, forcing you to lick in between his toes, pressing down on your tongue with his big toe. 

Both of them kneeling on your arms, up by your head, not letting you up, or control anything. They both grip their dicks, the soldier using his metal hand to reach down and grab your chin, forcing your mouth open. They put the tips of their dicks in your mouth and being pissing, your mouth filling until you swallow, and swallow and swallow, over and over again, bucky and the winter soldier are pissing, forcing you to drink it all.

#rose writes #smut #no y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier smut #the winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier

[pedrito-friskito]

the way we were / the way we are - chapter 16 - judgement day

summary: it’s a bittersweet reunion, and Bucky makes you a promise.

warnings: explicit sex, canon-typical violence, reader is a badass and bucky is a babe

a/n: this is a big one but fuck I love this chapter so much

| series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 |

He just stares. And stares. And stares.

You just stare right back, unmoving from your spot on his couch.

Slowly, he steps into the apartment, pulls the door shut behind him. Stares at you.

“How did you find me?” he asks, his voice low.

Suddenly, you jump to your feet, heart racing in you chest. “Can I use your bathroom?” you ask, forcing your voice to sound casual. Your stomach is in your throat. “I smell like an airplane.”

Bucky just nods, points over his shoulder to a door you hadn’t noticed on the other side of the apartment. You cross quickly towards it, keeping a wide berth between you, and step inside. You inhale deeply, trying to get your heart to slow down. You brace your hands on the sink, stare yourself down in the mirror. Calm down, you think. You can do this.

It’s been more than a year in the making.

You take your time, splash cold water on your face, shake your limbs out. You can’t stop yourself from rummaging through the few things in the bathroom. He has a green toothbrush, a ratty towel that has definitely seen better days, and some of that 2-in-1 shampoo and body wash that men seem to love so much (you’ll never understand – the present has made you appreciate the finer things in life, like conditioner). The scent of the body wash is called Alpine Snow, and you take a whiff, leaning back against the wall. It smells familiar, like how Bucky always smelled, even in ’45.

You step out a few minutes later, and find him now sitting in your spot on the couch, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. You put your arms behind your back, lean against the wall until your palms flatten against the surface.

He doesn’t look up at you when he speaks. “Why are you here?”

“Tell me you weren’t in Vienna earlier today,” you say, ignoring his question. “Tell me you’ve been here the entire time.”

His gaze finally lifts, and his blue eyes are nothing but confusion. They lock with yours, and he doesn’t look away. “What?”

Wordlessly, you pull your phone from your pocket and pull up the broadcast you’d watched earlier before handing it to him. A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. He blinks, watching the clip over and over again.

He hands the phone back to you, and you force yourself to ignore the way your gut leaps when your fingers brush his flesh ones. His eyes lock with yours again, wide and shocked. “It wasn’t me. I’m not…I don’t…it wasn’t me. I swear it.”

“I believe you,” you say. You do. Past the anger and the hurt and the heartbreak, you believe him. You can see it in his eyes. “But the rest of the world might not.”

His jaw clenches. “Is that why you’re here? To warn me?”

You nod. “Eighteen hours, give or take, before the Task Force shows up. Steve will be here in twelve.”

“How did you find me?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” he says, pushing himself off the couch. There’s only a few feet between you, and you can’t stop yourself from dragging your gaze up and down his body. It seems impossible, but he looks even broader than he had in Vienna. “But I want to know why.”

“Why?”

“Why are you here?”

Emotion swells in your chest. “I’m here because, even if you don’t want me anymore, I’m still married to you, and despite everything, I still give a damn about you. I still love you. And the whole world wants your head on a platter, so I came here to warn you. Steve didn’t want me to come, but I pushed.” You cross your arms over your chest, meeting his eyes again. “I had to see you again. Even after Vienna, I still had to. For better or for worse, remember?”

“Does…Stark know that you’re here?”

“For the time being, no.”

He’s silent for a long moment, and his gaze never drops from yours. “I never said I didn’t want you anymore, Y/N.”

Your gut twists. “Then why did you make me leave?”

A sad smile pulls at his lips and he takes a step towards you. “Because I still give a damn about you too. Because I still love you. But I can’t keep you safe, especially not now. Vienna broke me. It broke me to push you away like that, but I can’t…I can’t let myself have you again, because that means dragging you into a fight. And it always ends in a fight.”

You push away from the wall, take a step towards him. There’s less than a foot between you now. You can feel his body heat, see every shift in the colour of his eyes. They’re blue, so, so blue.

He takes another step, and the toe of your boot touches his. Another, and he’s backed you up against the wall again, hands clenched at his sides, yours still crossed over your chest. Your arms relax, and you lift a careful hand to his face, your thumb swiping over his bottom lip.

“You still love me?” you whisper out. He nods. “You still want me?” Another nod. “Then kiss me. Please.”

A low groan rumbles through his chest, and you can feel the vibration against your fingertips. “I want to.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“Because once I start,” he says, and pulls your hand from his face, holding your wrist and leaning in close to you. The tip of his nose slips along yours, and you can just feel the ghost of his lips across yours. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

You let out a shaky breath, and he releases your wrist, both flesh and metal hands resting on your waist. His fingers curl in the fabric of your jeans, and your own hands lift to his shoulders, palms flattening against the curves of his muscle. He pulls your hips forward, meeting them with his own, and then his mouth is on yours, lips warm and soft and inviting.

It starts slow. It starts tentative, your hands grasping at each other, holding on for dear life. You’re breathing the same air, and the taste of his mouth lies heavy on your tongue. It’s intoxicating. It’s been more than a year since Austria, since you’d kissed for the first time seventy years, and yet this seems different too, like you’re seeing him for the first time all over again.

And then it changes. The love and the longing still linger, but when his mouth moves to your neck, nips at your pulse, and draws a moan of his name from your lips, desire and…hunger break through the surface. He pulls back a fraction of an inch, and you see his pupils are blown, eyes nearly black as they rake across your body. But his hands freeze on you, still clenched around you waist. He kisses you softly, once, and you feel metal fingers slip just beneath the edge of your shirt.

He’s asking, you realize. He’s waiting for permission.

It breaks something in you, and you grab him by the collar of his shirt, your mouths crashing together once more.

A moan slips between the two of you, and then you’re pulling at his clothes, hands fumbling for his belt and the button of his jeans. He unzips your jacket, licks a stripe from your collar to your jaw. “Damn it,” he rasps out, and you realize he’s grinning. Actually grinning. “You taste exactly how I remember.”

The words only spur you on as you make quick work of his zipper, shrugging off your jacket and then slipping your hand down his pants, fingers snapping at the waistband of his boxers. Your lips find his temple, and you feel the scratch of the scruff on his jaw as his teeth slide against your neck.

Your hand slips beneath his boxers, and a lust-filled grin pulls at your lips as you fingers close around him, already hard as a rock. A deep gasp escapes him, but you only manage to stroke him twice before his hands are pulling at your jeans, pushing them down over your hips. He pulls your hand away from him, and drops to his knees before you, unlacing your boots and pulling them off one at a time, then peeling your pants down you legs. Your underwear goes with them, leaving you bare from the waist down.

“Bu-” His name cuts off in your throat, replaced but a quiet moan as he knocks your legs apart with one hand, lips finding the inside of your thigh instantly. Your head falls back against the wall, hands gripping his shoulders, muscles tightening as both his hands, metal and flesh, glide up the backs of your thighs, grabbing handfuls of your ass.

His mouth is hot as hell over the very core of you, tongue flicking out in all the ways you’ve been dreaming of. One of your hands moves to his head, fingers tangling in the long strands. Pleasure rolls through you like a tidal wave, sparks of white light firing behind your eyes. You nails dig into his shoulders hard, and he growls between your legs.

You yank him up by his shirt, and his eyes go wide for a moment at your strength. “I should have believed you,” he says, letting you pull him to his feet. His hands bracket your head, palms flat against the wall. “When you said you were just as strong as me.”

A grin pulls at your lips, but your mouth drops open when his flesh hand glances down your front, cupping you between your thighs. You grab his face in your hands and moan when his teeth clamp down on your bottom lip, sucking on it lightly as his middle finger strokes you. “Bucky,” you gasp out, hands twisting in his as his mouth closes around your pulse once more. “Please, I need…fuck…I need you.”

He pulls his hand away from your core only to grab your waist and haul you up. Your legs lock around his hips instantly, and he’s smiling at you. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before.”

“Yeah, well,” you whisper, “I think it’s called for.”

He takes himself in hand, you tilt your hips, and when he slides home, you curse again, your jaw dropping. This time, it’s him gasping your name, burying his face in your neck as his hips rock against you. He feels like pure power, corded muscle holding you up easily, hips snapping against yours over and over again.

You feel everything at once; desperation, love, lust, hunger, pleasure. You slip once hand beneath the collar of his shirt, finding that spot between his shoulder blades. Bucky groans against your throat when your nail grazes the spot, thrusting harder into you, hands holding you so tightly you’re sure there’ll be bruises, but you don’t care.

The wall nearly cracks under the impact of the two of you, and your lips find each other’s again, both gasping for air, breathing the same breaths.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I never stopped loving you.”

He hits that spot inside you, the one that makes your whole body scream in pleasure and your free hand knots in his hair, tugging lightly. It makes him groan. “I love you too.”

The release slams into both of you at once, making your vision white out. The only thing keeping you tethered to the earth are his hands on your body, flesh and metal.

Your vision clears slowly, and as the tingling in your limbs recedes, he kisses you again. You both pull away after a moment, your hand still in his hair, and you tilt your head to kiss the spot below his eye. His lips part, and you feel his breath on your skin. “Hold me forever and never let go.”

He walks over to the couch, you still held in his arms, and sits on the couch, settling you into his lap. He’s still inside you, and his hand skim up your back. “You said that to me, before,” he says, and you can see it in his eyes.

He’s remembering.

You nod, adjusting yourself against him, draping your arms around his neck. His hands roam your back, tracing over the dips in your spine, the notches of your ribs. “I did.”

His brow furrows, and you lean in to kiss it, feeling his arms tighten around you. “The night we got married.”

“You remember.”

“I do,” Bucky says, and a smile breaks across his face. “It was the happiest day of my life.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you lean down to capture his mouth with yours.

You make love twice more; once right there on the couch, and again on the bare mattress, stripping each other completely and finishing in a sweaty heap. You lie with your head on his shoulder, his metal arm around your back, your hand drawing shapes on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “for Austria. I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I shouldn’t have sent you away,” he admits, and you can feel his lips against the top of your head. “You were the only thing that mattered to me, all these years. You were the only thing that kept me…me. Even when I didn’t know who I was, I knew who you were.” There’s a crack in his voice, and there’s a pang in your chest.

You lift your head from his shoulder, prop it up so you can look at him. “Promise me something?”

Metal fingers drift down your spine, rest at the small of your back. “Anything.”

“Promise me you won’t make me leave again,” you say, and your voice sounds small, even to you. “Promise me that we’ll stay together, no matter what happens.”

He just nods, leans up to kiss you once. “I promise.”

+

You talk for hours. Well, you do. Bucky mostly listens. And takes notes. It makes you smile. You tell him about Steve, and Nat. You mention Tony briefly, but his face changes, same as it had in Vienna, and you stop.

As for the Task Force, you make a plan. Steve will be at the apartment in less than six hours, and you’ll both do your best to set the record straight. Bucky’s alibi is essentially non-existent, but you’re willing to vouch for him; you don’t think it’ll go very far, but it’s at least a start. With the Accords in effect, you don’t have much help behind you – Nat and Tony are a no-go, and you know Steve and Sam will be less than thrilled with your plan – but it’s a start. It has to be.

And if Steve can buy you some time, you can get out. Together.

You sleep for a few hours, pack up the few belongings Bucky can’t leave behind. Morning comes quickly, and you head down to the market while you wait for Steve, keeping enough distance between you two to draw as little attention as possible. He heads for the fruit stalls, you hunt down cups of coffee, and then you meet at the fountain in the centre of the market, eyes peeled.

“Ce face o fată frumoasă ca tine într-un loc ca acesta?” he says, and you just blink, offering him one of the coffee cups.

“Pardon?”

He grins. “What’s a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this?” When you start to laugh, he leans in and kisses your cheek. “It’s Romanian.”

“I didn’t know you spoke Romanian,” you say, and he just nods, sipping the coffee.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know.”

His eyes go far off for a second, jaw clenching, and you take his chin in your hand, leaning in to kiss his mouth. “I know that I love you,” you tell him, and his gaze softens, “and that’s all that matters.”

You drink your coffees, share a plum he’d bought at the stalls, still keeping your eye on your surroundings. Everything is in high-definition to you, and you can tell just by looking at him that Bucky is on high alert.

His eyes land on someone across the way, and he reaches for your wrist. “We need to go.”

+

You head back to the apartment as quickly as you can without looking like you’re running. Steve is waiting when you step inside.

Bucky goes into combat mode immediately, pushing you behind him, metal arm held out in front of you. Steve looks at you, his eyes asking, and you nod once. “Do you know me?” he asks Bucky.

“You’re Steve,” Bucky replies, his words careful. “I read about you in a museum. And she…she helped.” You reach out and put your hand on his side.

“They’ve set the perimeter,” you can hear Sam’s voice in Steve’s earpiece, and you know Bucky can too. Super-soldier perks.

“I know you’re nervous,” Steve says. “You have plenty of reason to be. But you’re lying. I saw the tape.”

“It wasn’t him, Steve,” you say, your hand clenching in Bucky’s jacket. “I know it wasn’t.”

“I wasn’t in Vienna,” Bucky interjects, and you can see his shoulders go tense. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“They’re entering the building.”

Steve’s eyes dart to you, then back to Bucky. “Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. And they’re not planning on taking you alive.”

“That’s smart,” Bucky says, nodding. “Good strategy.”

“We’re leaving,” you tell Steve. “Now.”

“They’re on the roof. I’m compromised.”

You hear heavy footsteps up the stairs and Bucky turns around. “Go,” he tells you. “Out the balcony, onto the roof. I’ll follow you.” He leans in, kisses you hard, and Steve clears his throat.

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight, Buck,” he says.

“It always ends in a fight,” Bucky shoots back, “and I won’t leave her again.”

“Five seconds.”

“You pulled me from the river in Washington. Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Three seconds.”

“Yes, you do,” Steve pushes. “The same way you know her.”

“I love her.”

Steve’s face falls. “I know you do.”

“Breach! Breach! Breach!”

A grenade crashes through the window, landing on the floor between the three of you. Bucky kicks it towards Steve, who smothers it with his shield, but the blast shakes the floor beneath your feet. Bucky yanks you away from the door, and pushes you past Steve, towards the door to the balcony.

Something heavy slams into the door and Bucky yanks up the mattress from the floor as bullets fly through the windows, shattering the glass. The table goes flying, blocking the door as two cops swing through the windows on cables. They both go down quickly, and Bucky lurches towards you. Another breaks through the balcony door, and Steve steps in front of you, slamming the cop in the head with the shield.

“Buck, stop!” Steve yells. “You’re gonna kill someone.”

His eyes go dark for a moment, and his metal fist slams through the floor, yanking out a familiar backpack. “I’m not gonna kill anyone,” he says, then launches the bag out the window. “Y/N, go,” he tells you, pushing you towards the now broken door. “Now.”

The front door bursts open and you scramble onto the balcony. Before you can second guess it, you clamber onto the railing and leap off, aiming for the roof of the building below. You can see where the bag had landed and skidded across the surface.

You land a few feet away from it with a loud yelp, the concrete slamming into your shoulder. You roll across the rooftop, coming to a stop beside the bag. You let out a groan, pain snaking down your arm, but you get to your feet quickly, turning just in time to see Bucky jump from a balcony a few floors below his. He lands the same way you had, rolling to a stop a foot away from you. You reach out a hand and he grabs it, getting to his feet and taking off again, pulling you behind him. It’s easy enough for you to keep up with him, and the adrenaline pumping through you helps.

Out of nowhere, a man clad in some kind of catsuit throws himself at Bucky, and you both go tumbling. Bucky shoves you out of the way as the man attacks him, sharp metal claws coming way too close to his face.

“Go!” he yells.

You get to your feet just as a helicopter swoops in, machine gun whirring loudly. You grab the bag off the ground and run toward the far edge of the roof. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see the Falcon shove the chopper off course. Bucky breaks away from the man, grabs the bag from you, and you leap over the edge of the roof, using the air vents as landings to get down to the street level.

The man in the catsuit slides down the wall, swiping at your back as he goes. Bucky yanks you out of the way, you land on the street, and keep running.

You know you’re thinking the same thing when you see the opening to the underpass, and Bucky grabs your hand, the both of you leaping down to the road below. Car horns fill your ears, and you brace yourself against the impact as you land on the asphalt. Bucky’s hand tightens around yours, and you take off again, weaving through traffic.

It all happens in a blur. You see the motorcycle coming straight towards you, and Bucky yanks you forward as it comes closer. Your arms lock around his shoulder, and the next thing you know, you’re on the bike, holding on for dear life as Bucky revs the engine and speeds away.

You feel claws on your back, and you’re yanked from the bike, landing hard on the asphalt as the bike carries on. Bucky looks back at you, terror in his eyes, but then there are hands under your shoulders, and you look up to see Sam lifting you from the asphalt.

The roof at the end of the underpass explodes into rubble, and you see the man in the catsuit leap through it, swiping at the tire of the bike and throwing Bucky from it. Steve appears out of nowhere, jumping from an SUV that rolls as soon as he’s out of it, crashing through the rubble. Sam swerves through the explosion, yanking you out of the way of the rolling car, and you see Steve pull the man off of Bucky as more than a dozen armed guards surround them.

Not just them, you realize. You and Sam included.

Sam sets you down beside Bucky, and you grab ahold of him instantly. He pushes you behind him again just as Rhodes, in full War Machine gear, descends and raises repulsors at both Steve and Bucky. Bucky reaches for your hand, and Steve puts the shield away. “Stand down now,” Rhodes commands. The cops move in and pull Bucky away from you. You reach for him, but Steve grabs your shoulder, keeping you in place. “Congratulations, Cap,” Rhodes continues. “You’re a criminal.”

The man in the catsuit puts the claws away, and you watch as he lifts the mask from his head. King T’Challa. You recognize him from the news broadcasts. His father, the former King T’Chaka, had died in the bombing in Vienna.

One of the cops says something in German. You reach for Bucky again, but Steve’s grip on you is tight. The cop shoves Bucky to the ground, and he doesn’t resist. Then they reach for you, holding your arms behind your back, same with Steve.

Bucky’s eyes meet yours as they bind his hands behind his back with the largest set of cuffs your ever seen. “I’m sorry,” he mouths, and then they haul him away.

—————

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#the way we were / the way we are #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #the winter soldier fic #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x y/n #my fics

[mariessecretcorner]

Going to be working on the masterlist tonight guys! So don’t worry I’ll post some of my work soon!

#miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #the winter soldier smut #henry cavill smut #walter marshall smut #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #loki laufeyson #henry cavill #chris evans #tom hiddleston #writer problems #so much to do #maries secret corner

[cherrycocaineee]

24. Bucky Barnes - I Didn’t Mean to Leave You Alone

* WARNING: This follows none of the movies. It’s pure fun and fiction. Also, for my own characters, I’ve used Tokyo ghoul as a reference to her abilities and species. There are also mentions of long term sexual assault and abuse*

*Bucky’s p.o.v*

Flashback

She was quiet, even when she spoke her voice was no more than a whisper. Her eyes were dead and when they beat her she refused to cry, instead, she decided just to take it. At this time, she was only ten years old when her father sold her to HYDRA.

  “She’ll make a great addition to the team,” a soldier said, “our leader will be happy to have someone so strong.”

 “I’ve already worn her in for ya,” her dad said, “she won’t do anything unless you tell her to. And she’ll do anything you tell her to. Anything.”

All of them were laughing, as if they were in on some sick joke. Little did I know at the time. When I did come across the girl more closely, I noticed that they’d chained her up. Her hair, which was long and ash-blonde, was a bit unkept; her pale skin was dirty and bruised. But that wasn’t what got my attention the most. It was what she had to eat. HYDRA was careful not to give her too much, only enough to keep her alive. I remembered the first time I seen her eat, the sight almost had me gagging. It was human flesh, full of running blood that dripped from her chin as she devoured it.

  I remember finally seeing her alone for the first time. In front of her was a regular breakfast: eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes but it was untouched. Taking a look around her, I walked over to her causing her to look up at me.

 “I’ve seen you before,” she muttered, not evening showing any type of emotion once, “you’re always just watching me.”

 “What are you?” I questioned.

She shrugged her shoulders, “I’m a ghoul. Well, half-ghoul.”

  “A ghoul?”

 “I’m a creature that devours human flesh or other ghouls.”

I sat down in front of her, she did the same crossing her legs in the process. We stared at each other for a while before I continued asking her questions.

 “What’s your name?” I asked.

 “Aubree. What’s yours?”

 “They call me the Winter Soldier.”

 “You don’t have a real name?”

I did have a real name but at the time, I didn’t remember it. So all I could tell her was I didn’t know it and that all I remembered being called was the “Winter Soldier.” I remembered her telling me that it must be sad not knowing who I really was but I wasn’t sure how to respond to that so I didn’t. She didn’t seem to care if I answered or not.

   After a while we seemed to get a long great, and I had started caring for her for a while. When I went on missions, I’d come back and see her. They’d continue to feed her human flesh but most of the time they’d give her regular food that made her physically sick when she tried to stick it in her mouth. I did what I could, giving her some of my blood from an open wound and if I didn’t have an open wound, I’d cut myself and give her a little. I took care of her. It was the only humanly thing I felt like I was doing. We grew close.

  “Do you ever wish you were free?” She asked one day.

 “What do you mean?” I answered.

  “Well, I assume you’re being held here against your will or something. They don’t let you remember what missions you go on, always erasing your memory. They freeze you back up about an hour or so when you get back. So I figured if you had the chance, you’d escape.”

  I thought about her question for a bit before shrugging.

 “I’m not sure.”

 “I would. You should see the things they do to me when you’re frozen or out.”

But that was all she said, and at the time, I never wondered what they could be doing to her. And if I was being honest, I didn’t even really care what they were doing. And a part of me figured she didn’t really care if I didn’t care. It wasn’t really my fault I was emotionless to begin with, so she probably just told me just to keep the conversation going. But she did ask me repeatedly, whether she knew or not, if I’d come back for her if I ever was to escape.

 “So would you?”

   And I’d grown so close to her, that a part of me felt emotional towards our relationship.

 “Yes, Aubree. I’d come back for you.”

But I didn’t.

  I’d forgotten.

End of Flashback

“How is she?” Dr. Strange asked as Bruce walked out of his lab.

  “Fine,” he stated, “we have her locked away in an impenetrable barrier.”

I felt my muscles tighten as I listened to what he said. Steve seemed to notice, giving me a quick glance that noticeably read “are you okay” before looking back at the others. I had told them, when we came across her, that I had known her during my time with HYDRA. After HYDRA fell apart, Aubree was passed down to a new group called Necron, who happened to have the remaining members from HYDRA along with a new leader. Now she was now sixteen.

  “Do we really need to keep her locked up?” I finally asked.

 This caused all of them to look at me, some, especially Tony Stark, with annoyance.

  “Of course we do,” Tony replied, “she just tried to kill us.”

 “But she was being controlled. Like I was.”

  “Bucky’s right,” Steve said, “we should give her to benefit of the doubt.”

 “Well, I agree with Tony,” Clint said, “she dangerous.”

Steve raised his hand up, silencing them before walking down to Bruce’s lab. All of us followed after him. Aubree was walking around while being confined, a dull look plastered on her face. She was still covered in some blood. No one had said anything but she still knew we were there.

 “I know you’re standing over there,” she muttered, “I can smell your blood.”

 We walked over to her and she stopped walking so she was standing in front of us. Her dead eyes traced over all of us until they landed on me.

 “Just gonna let them keep me locked up,” she hissed, “you always were such a help.”

 “Aubree,” Steve said, “Bucky was just telling us we shouldn’t keep you caged in.”

  “Oh, fuck off!”

Steve’s eyes widened.

  “He doesn’t give a damn about me. He just feels bad for not keeping his fucking promise so he’s compensating! But unfortunately for him, I don’t care.”

  I lowered my eyes, feeling bad enough that I didn’t deserve looking at her. But I wanted to defend myself. Tony looked at Aubree.

  “Tell us about Necron,” he demanded.

 She had already moved to the other side of the prison cell and leaned against it.

  “What do you want to know?” She replied.

 “Anything,” Nat said.

Aubree ran her fingers through her hair, probably thinking if she should spill her groups secrets. Though I doubted she was having a hard time considering it, and if I had to guess she was probably thinking of what she could benefit from helping us out. When she finally did answer, my original assumption was correct.

  “I’ll tell you everything you need or want to know,” she replied, “if you let me out of this cell.”

  There was a wave of skeptical throughout the crowd causing Aubree to roll her eyes.

 “I’d also like to mention that if I wanted to kill all of you, I would have.”

 That didn’t wave their decision at all, instead, they all turned around and left. Aubree rolled her eyes and turned away. Sighing, I followed my friends out of the lab and was closing the door when I heard Aubree scream in frustration. She was tired of being locked away, tired of being treated like an animal. Steve was staring at me when I walked away from the door, placing his hand on my shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze before walking away. I didn’t say anything, I just went to my room to think.

   Hours passed before I decided to leave my room and join everyone for dinner. Wanda had made creamy garlic chicken with potatoes and grilled green beans. It smelled great. Wanda made plates for everyone before picking up an additional plate.

  “I’m going to take this to Aubree,” she said.

 “Why?” Clint asked.

  “So she isn’t in there starving. We aren’t like her past captors, she still needs some food.”

 “You can’t give her that,” I muttered, “she can’t eat it.”

   “What does she eat?” Peter asked.

I froze. Everyone was holding their plates and staring between Parker and I. Tony, however, saved me from having to answer.

 “Just go eat.”

 Shrugging, Peter walked over to the large table to join those who were already sitting down. Wanda handed me a plate and I took it, muttering a quick thanks. Everyone else was chatting and going about their evening while I just thought of Aubree sitting in the lab all alone. Steve looked at me.

  “Try not to think so much about her, Bucky,” he said.

 “Is that what you would do if it were me sitting back there?” I asked.

  “No but she isn’t you.”

   “Steve, her life was much worse than mine. Besides being a pawn for HYDRA, I grew up with people who cared about me and friends to surround myself with. Aubree’s had no one. Her dad got rid of her when she was 10 and who knows what the hell happened to her before he gave her up.”

  Now everyone was listening.

 “Not to mention what HYDRA probably did to her while I was frozen or out on missions.”

“Have you ever asked?” Wanda asked.

  “I never got the chance.”

“You should ask her now,” Vision said, “I’m sure she’d tell you.”

I took a large bite of food, trying to avoid replying to Vision. I doubted Aubree would want to tell me what they did to her now. She hated me. The rest of dinner was filled with aimless chatter that didn’t have anything to do with Aubree or Necron or anything else that had to do with work. When dinner was over, everyone went on about their evening. Nat and Wanda wandered off into a separate room, Vision was speaking with Tony, and then on. I decided to check on Aubree again.

  In the lab, I saw Aubree sitting on the ground. Her legs were pulled up against her chest while her arms were wrapped around them. Her head was leaning against the wall of her confinements while staring forward. She looked exhausted and probably hungry. I walked over to her cell.

 “What do you want?” She asked.

  “I’m just checking on you,” I replied.

 “Like how you checked on me when we were both property of HYDRA? Oh wait, now you’re the one holding me hostage.”

  “Aubree, you tried to kill us.”

 “I was doing what I was told to do.”

  “I know that.”

  “And you still let them lock me up.”

I looked down at my feet. There wasn’t really anything I could say to make her less angry at me. I knew that. Sighing, I met her gaze again.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked.

 “Of course I’m hungry,” she muttered, “I haven’t eaten in a week.”

  “And they brought you out in the battlefield.”

  “Just because the group changed, doesn’t mean they’re less assholes than before.”

   “Fair.”

I walked over to Bruce’s set and up and stared at the keys on it. There was a button that allowed me to open up her prison but before I pressed it, I had to make sure she wasn’t going to make a run for it or try to kill my friends.

  “I’m not going to escape.”

   I tore my eyes away from the keys. She was still sitting down, her eyes staring at me.

  “I’ve given up on being my own person. So you don’t have anything to worry about.”

And I honestly believed her. She’d never given me a reason to not trust her. So I pressed the button and the light blue prison walls disappeared. And like she said, she didn’t get up and try to escape. She just sat there. I walked over to her and sat down in front of her like I normally did when we belonged to HYDRA. I removed my pocket knife from my jean pocket and rolled up my red sleeve. I met her eyes.

  “Hold out your hands,” I said, “you’ll get messy but at least you’ll eat.”

  She didn’t argue or protest, she just held out her hands and waited patiently. I slit my arm just enough to allow blood to come out and it steadily spilled itself into her palms. Once there was enough to cause a puddle in her hands, I pulled my arms away and covered the wound with my metallic arm, using enough pressure to stop the bleeding. She started drinking, some of the blood dripping from her chin. I couldn’t help but smile. I liked taking care of her. When it was all slurped up, Aubree sighed in relief and wiped the blood off her chin.

  “Thank you.”

 “Of course.”

It wasn’t a whole lot but it was enough to keep her full. We both sat there quietly; Aubree was picking at the rips in her jeans while I watched her. Something seemed to be bothering her but she was trying to hold it in. I decided to do what Vision said to do.

  “What did they do to you?” I asked.

 “What do you mean?” She replied.

  “Long ago, you said that they did terrible things to you while I was out or frozen. What was it?”

 She shrugged, “doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me.”

  A soft sigh left her lips.

  “Mmmm,” her head tilted back, her eyes seemed almost full of tears, “they beat me a lot. I remember being covered in bruises most of the time. And sometimes…sometimes they’d rape me, you know.”

  My back stiffened, my fist clenched.

 “It hurt a lot. But I just…I just laid there.”

 “Aubree,” I said, “you’re a ghoul and incredibly strong, even when you haven’t eaten. Why didn’t you kill them?”

  Aubree wiped away the few tears in her eyes.

 “I thought it was normal, you know. I mean, yeah, it sucked and I hated every moment of it. But it’s just how I grew up. You don’t say no, you don’t fight back. Either take it or I’ll forget about you and you’ll die.”

  Just from those words, I suspected her father did the same things to her that HYDRA did. I felt sick.

  “Why didn’t you come back for me like you promised?” Aubree whispered, “was it just a lie? Did they make you talk to me to get inside my head?”

  “Of course not, Aubree!” I proclaimed, “everything just happened so fast that I forgot. I ran into Steve, and he was trying to help me, and some of his friends were trying to kill me because of what I did when I was under HYDRA’s control. I just forgot, I swear. But once I remembered, I did start making preparations to come back. Then HYDRA was destroyed and you were already gone. I thought, maybe, they’d killed you.”

She tried to wipe away her tears so I wouldn’t see them but it was too late, I had.

  “Well it’s too late for you to do anything. Your friends already think I’m a monster. They don’t want me around.”

 “That’s because they don’t know you. What you did wasn’t because you wanted to do it, it’s because they made you do it. I’ll help convince them you aren’t bad.”

“Why?”

  “Because I didn’t mean to leave you alone, Aubree,” I said, “and because all of this happened to you because I forgot about you in the first place. I won’t make that same mistake again.”

  Aubree watched me before standing to her feet, I followed her exact movement. She was much shorter than I was, and like before her hair was a bit mangled and her face was covered in dirt. But despite all of that, she smiled softly. Something I’d never seen her do. She held out her pinky.

  “Promise.”

I smiled back and linked my pinky into hers.

  “Promise.”

We unlinked our fingers before I turned to leave, going upstairs to speak to the others. I went to lock her back up but then I froze.

  “I’m not going to lock you up again.”

   She only nodded and I went back upstairs.

Talking to the others didn’t go as planned, not even Steve was happy about me letting Aubree sit in there without being confined. The whole way down there we were arguing about Aubree being potentially dangerous for all of New York. But when we got down there, Aubree was gone. There wasn’t a single sign of her.

  “Aubree,” I said, hoping she was just hiding or looking around.

  But she wasn’t there. In her place was a letter. I picked it up.

If you’re reading this, then I’m already gone. You don’t have to worry about me though. I’m not going back to Necron or anything but there is something I need to take care of before I go on normally with my life. I believed you when you said you’d talk to your friends but unfortunately, I knew what their vote would be. Creatures like me aren’t wanted around for anything other than strength. It was only a matter of time before someone wanted me to do something about Necron. Hope we meet again some day and maybe we can put everything behind this. And if you’re reading this Bucky, don’t be shocked that I just ditched. You’ve lied before too, remember.

   When I looked up from the letter, everyone was watching me.

“She’s gone, huh?” Steve asked.

  “Yeah,” I muttered, “she’s gone.”

“Guys, look,” Bruce intervened.

All of us wandered over to him and saw that Aubree even left a note on Bruce and Tony’s computers. On the front it said “Necron.” Bruce opened it. Inside was all the information we needed to know about that organization along with another little message from Aubree.

A little show of good faith since I left. I never liked them to begin with so if you’d like to get rid of them, I won’t get in the way. As long as you don’t hunt me down, we’re good.

She was free.

At last.

#Marvel Avengers #The Avengers #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #imagines #fluff #Smut #the winter soldier imagines #bucky x reader #reader x bucky barnes #the winter soldier fluff #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes imagines #marvel imagines #marvel fluff #the avengers imagines

[ellemj]

Bigger Than He Was

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @littlemiss-yeehaw: jealous!Bucky, fake dating, handjob.

Summary: Bucky pretends to be your new man when you run into your ex in public. However, the little act of pretending sparks something inside of him that he didn't know was there.

Warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight size kink, jealous!Bucky, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: The first request I wrote from the smut menu had to be from my Tumblr best friend. Not only does she pre-read nearly everything that I post, but she keeps me from deleting my blog on a near daily basis, and she keeps me sane. I hope you all enjoy it as much as she did. If it wasn't for this girl, my blog would've been deleted before Needs & Wants was ever completed lmao.

            You’ve decided that no one in the world looks more out of place than a super soldier in a grocery store. Specifically, a super soldier in the produce aisle of a small local market. He looks like a bull in a China shop as he scours through a bin of tomatoes to find ones he approves of. He holds one tomato in each of his leather gloved hands as he compares them carefully, acting like choosing between the two is every bit as difficult as deciding whether someone lives or dies in his usual line of work.

            “They’re pretty much the same, Bucky, and we only need two. Just put them in a bag.”  You say with a sigh, resting your elbows on the handle of the shopping cart that you’ve been pushing as you’ve trailed behind him. Though you’re the one carrying the team’s grocery list, Bucky’s been the one pulling things off of the shelves and setting them in the cart. You originally suggested each of you taking half of the list and splitting up to get the shopping done faster, and to avoid the pointless arguments and annoyances you’d face in each other’s presence, but Bucky’s only response to your idea was a furrowed brow and silence. So, you’ve been following him around with the shopping cart safely between the two of you.

            Bucky starts to put both of the tomatoes down and pick two different ones just to bother you, but he takes the high road and bags the two he’s already holding instead. He’s usually assigned to grocery shopping with Sam, which he definitely prefers, but with Sam off to visit his family this week, he ended up being stuck with you.

            “What’s next?” Bucky asks, setting the plastic bag of produce in the cart and then casting you a sideways glance. You cross tomatoes off of the small piece of paper in your hand before moving on to read the next item.

            “We’re done with food items, next is ibuprofen, melatonin, and some feminine products.” You answer, lifting your gaze to meet his as you tap the pen against the piece of paper absentmindedly. Bucky nods curtly and starts leading the way down the aisle, knowing all of the aisles with medication, first aid, and toiletry type supplies are on the opposite end of the store. You follow a few feet behind him, missing your usual shopping buddy, Wanda. Though it’s a menial task, you always seem to have a fun time when the two of you are on the grocery schedule for the week. Bucky is a stark contrast to your far more bubbly, lighthearted friend.

            You’re lost in thought as you turn a corner and enter the pharmacy aisle, not paying any attention as Bucky looks through various types of over-the-counter medications. It isn’t until you hear a voice one aisle over that you straighten up and tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The voice sounds familiar, so familiar that you find your ears straining to hear it better so you can identify it. Is it an old friend? Someone from SHIELD? You can’t be sure, but you’re starting to think it isn’t a friend by the way your nerves seem to be rising with every incoherent word that they mutter. You leave Bucky standing at one end of the aisle as you walk ahead, trying to get closer to the source of the voice. You’re nearly at the opposite end of the aisle when suddenly, the front end of another shopping cart appears and quickly turns in front of you, almost colliding with the front end of yours. You stop abruptly for two reasons. The first reason being so you don’t cause a pileup on aisle thirteen. The second reason being because you now see whose voice was causing your heart rate to elevate and your stomach to twist into a knot. Your fucking ex-boyfriend.

            “Oh, wow, hey!” The man before you extends the greeting so casually, as if he didn’t waste a year of your life with meaningless words and empty promises. He raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, his eyes darting over his shoulder just as a pretty blonde woman steps into view. Oh. “This is uh, this is my girlfriend.” He gestures to the woman before looking back at you with a wary glance, clearly trying to gauge how you feel about him committing to someone new so soon. The woman offers a small smile and wave as she introduces herself by name, but it all goes right over your head. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, unable to tear your eyes away from the piece of shit behind the cart full of organic produce and a questionable amount of wine.

            Bucky’s watching everything unfold from a few yards behind, acting as if he’s still deciding between a name brand bottle of ibuprofen and a generic version of the same. He gives you a few seconds to soak in the obviously awkward social situation as his eyes analyze your body language. You’re tense, your grip on the handle of the shopping cart is so tight that your knuckles are turning white. It’s been ten seconds since the woman introduced herself to you and you still haven’t uttered a word. Bucky glances to his right and notices the selection of condoms, lube, and pregnancy tests spread over the shelves next to the medication section. He only takes a second to weigh his options: let you continue to flounder in front of your shitty ex and his new victim or offer you an easy reprieve while simultaneously sending your ex into a mental spiral. His gloved hand wraps around a couple of boxes of pregnancy tests and he pulls them off of the shelf, signifying he’s chosen the latter.

            “Oh, trying for a baby?” Your ex jokes when Bucky approaches from behind you and drops a handful of pregnancy tests into the cart.

            “No, it’s just smart to have a few of these on hand when we only ever fuck raw. Do we know you?” Bucky’s tone is calm and even, like he’s just said something completely within the ordinary. It breaks you out of the trance you were in and you blink your eyes as you feel the heat from Bucky’s body enveloping you in warmth. He cages your body between his and the cart, his chest brushing against your back as he places his hands on either side of yours on the shopping cart handle. You don’t see the way his lips curve upward into a shit-eating grin as your ex’s face falls at both Bucky’s unfiltered words and the public display of affection he’s witnessing.

            “Aren’t you…” The man addresses Bucky with slightly widened eyes and an unsure voice. You almost laugh at the effect Bucky has on the poor guy’s demeanor, and the fact that Bucky towers a few inches over the man is just icing on the cake.

            “Bucky.” Your ex has just realized that not only are you grocery shopping with the Winter Soldier, but you’ve also been letting him fuck you.

---

            Your week has been full of unexpected moments, but two stand out in particular. The first moment was when Bucky so calmly chose to play the role of your fake boyfriend at the grocery store three nights ago. Nearly every waking moment since then has been spent replaying it in your head, wondering why he decided to step in and do that for you, why he decided to take such a blunt approach and tell your ex that the two of you prefer unprotected sex, and how the hell he acted as if nothing happened immediately after the interaction was over. The second moment is unfolding right now. Your eyes are locked in on your phone screen as you mull over the text that’s displayed there.

            Are you free tonight? Would love to sit down and catch up, want to talk about things.

            You don’t have the number saved in your phone but you know exactly who it is. It’s the same shitty ex you ran into two nights ago, the same one who now thinks you’re fucking the Winter Soldier. Before you’ve even considered responding, a second message from the same unsaved number rolls in.

            I’ll be at the bar we used to go to, the one off of 83rd street, in an hour. Hope to see you there.

            The way your face scrunches up in confusion at the sight of the two texts on your phone screen piques Bucky’s interest as he steps off of the elevator and uses the collar of his t-shirt to dab sweat off of his neck. He’s just finished a pretty strenuous workout and had every intention of heading straight to his room to shower and spend the rest of the night in there, but he can’t ignore the feeling of some kind of invisible string tugging him in your direction. It was only two nights ago that he pressed himself against you in the grocery store and pretended like he knew what it’s like to have you in his bed.  It was only two nights ago that you became a near constant thought in the back of his mind.

            “Don’t tell me he texted you.” Bucky’s voice catches you off guard. You lift your gaze from your phone screen and lean back into the couch cushions, attempting to look perfectly at ease in his presence. Truth be told, you’ve been a little on edge around him since the night in the grocery store, but you don’t know why. Maybe because he saw you in such an embarrassing and vulnerable moment, in your own personal hell.

            “He didn’t text me.” You lie, watching him carefully as the elevator doors close behind him and he takes the few steps across the room to reach the sectional you’re currently lounging on. It’s odd to see him sink into the opposite end of the piece of furniture so comfortably, like he’s such a normal guy. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him sit in the living room of his own free will, and it’s a sight to see.

            “You’re a bad liar.” Bucky huffs. His expression turns thoughtful as he thinks back to his encounter with your ex that night. The corners of Bucky’s lips curl up into a smile when he remembers the way the guy practically shrank when he heard that the two of you like to fuck raw. “What does he want?” Bucky seems to have a sixth sense about this shit, so you decide to go with it and tell him the truth, see where it gets you.

            “He said he wants to catch up and talk about things.”

            “Right after seeing you with another guy.” Bucky points out, hoping you’ll see where this is going. You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms over your chest.

            “I guess so, or maybe it’s unrelated. People break up and then discuss it later for closure sometimes, it’s a thing, Bucky.”

            “So, you’re going?”

            “I haven’t decided yet.” You answer honestly. You watch as Bucky nods slowly, as if he’s digesting the information and deciding what to do with it. He uses the collar of his t-shirt to wipe a bit of sweat away from his neck again, drawing your gaze down to the flexing of his bicep. You’re quick to avert your gaze back up to his eyes, but the satisfied smirk on his face tells you that he caught you looking.

            “We’re going.” Bucky decides, sitting up a little straighter on the couch and running a hand through his sweaty hair. The bewildered look that takes over your face says it all.

            “What the hell do you mean we’re going? There’s no we here, it’s just me.”

            “I meant exactly what I said, we’re going.”

---

            You stand in the garage of the compound, where everyone’s various vehicles are stored away safely. Your fingers pick at the frays of your black jeans absentmindedly as you lean against a concrete pillar, waiting for Bucky. You know you should just get in your own car and leave without him, there’s absolutely no good that will come out of letting him tag along for this. Yet, something in the back of your mind is tugging at you to stay and wait for him, to see what might come of this. Looking up at your reflection in the car window a few feet away from you, you take in the sight of your little ensemble. You’re wearing dark jeans paired with a tight little long-sleeved crop top that shows the tiniest bit of your midriff. You wanted to wear something fairly plain yet something that showed a little skin, so this is what you settled on.

            Unbeknownst to you, Bucky’s outfit for tonight will go well with your own. He’s wearing dark jeans as well, but with a dark t-shirt and black leather jacket. As the elevator carries him down to the lowest floor of the compound, he has a brief second of clarity where he asks himself what the fuck he thinks he’s doing. First, he went against every rational thought in his mind when he pretended to be your boyfriend in a damn grocery store. Then, he spent two nights thinking about what it might’ve been like if he actually had been fucking you raw like he’d told to your ex he was. Those two nights ruined him. You ruined him. It took less than 48 hours for his mind to become completely preoccupied with you.

            When the elevator slows to a stop and the doors slide open to let him into the private parking garage beneath the compound, his eyes fall on you instantly. Fuck. One look at you and he’s immediately decided that you’re not taking a car, no, you’re taking his bike. Hell, you’re dressed near-perfectly for it. The only issue is that bit of smooth skin you have showing beneath the hem of your little top, he’s not going to take you out on his bike and risk ruining that perfect skin of yours with road rash.

            The ding of the elevator draws your attention to your right, where Bucky is stepping into the parking garage looking totally different than when you saw him upstairs half an hour ago. His messy hair has been washed and dried, his flesh and metal biceps are hidden within the sleeves of his leather jacket, and his neck is no longer glistening with a sheen of sweat. You’re unashamedly focusing on the way his jeans are accentuating the muscles of his thighs when he starts stripping off his leather jacket.

            “Put this on.” He says as he holds the jacket out to you with one hand, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans with the other to fish out the key for his bike. Your eyes widen as you stare at the jacket in his outstretched hand. Shaking your head, you take a step back from him.

            “Why?”

            “Because you’re not riding on the back of my bike with skin showing, it’s not safe.”

            “The back of your bike? Bucky, we’re taking a car.” You say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. Bucky can’t ignore the way your breasts are slightly pushed up by the action, a hint of cleavage peeking out over the lowcut neckline of your top. He quickly averts his gaze back to his motorcycle that stands a few feet in front of you both, a sigh leaving his lips at your stubbornness.

            “Just put on the damn jacket.” He says, looking over at you one more time, but this time with a softened expression. You don’t know why you comply and take the jacket from him, but you do. It’s warmed from his body heat when you slip your arms into it and the way it engulfs you and pulls down on your shoulders with a bit of weight is almost comforting.

            The motorcycle ride to the bar, however, is anything but comforting. The only other time you’ve ever been so close to Bucky was that night at the grocery store when he cozied up behind you for show. But this felt different. This involved your chest pressed against his back, your inner thighs brushing against his hips, and your arms wrapped around his torso. This felt intimate. It felt the same way to Bucky and he couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard he tried. When he stopped at a redlight in the city, you let your hold around his abdomen relax for a moment. Your hands slid down to rest on the tops of his thighs as you remained pressed against his back, and he was praying for the light to turn green again before one of your hands had a chance to shift and find out how hard he was beneath the fabric of his jeans. He can only blame himself for the torture, since he was the one that insisted you take the bike.

            When you turn onto the right street, you’re quick to tap Bucky’s thigh with your hand, completely missing the way he tenses up beneath your unexpected touch. You use that same hand to point to a small parking garage across the street from the bar that you’ll be heading into, and Bucky gets the signal. It’s only two minutes later that he’s parking his bike on the third floor of the garage and trying to keep his eyes off of you as you stand beside the bike, removing your helmet carefully. Some part of him can’t help but think that you’re being so careful because you want to look your best when you waltz into the bar to meet your ex, and he fucking hates it. He has the sudden urge to mess your hair up and send you in there looking like shit. But that urge only makes him think about all of the ways he could mess your hair up. He could grab you by it and pull you against him, he could run his hands through it and rake it into a ponytail while you’re on your knees for him…shit. He just volunteered to drive you to the bar to meet your ex. He can’t do a damn thing.

            You hand Bucky your helmet and immediately start smoothing down your hair, seeing the look of disdain he gives you but choosing to ignore it. He had no obligation to be here with you tonight, but he insisted, so he has to put up with it.

            “You don’t have to go in with me, I can do this on my own.” You say, hoping Bucky will choose to wait for you in the parking garage rather than go inside the bar with you.

            “What are you planning to do?” Bucky asks, swinging his leg over as he dismounts the bike and joins you on the concrete floor. He stands in front of you, slipping his gloves off and resting them on the seat of the bike before reaching under the chin of his helmet to undo the strap there. Your eyes drift to the veins on his flesh hand and golden accents on his vibranium hand as you formulate a believable response.

            “Hear him out, give him closure or whatever he’s here for.”

            “Whatever he’s here for?” Bucky repeats your words almost sarcastically, scoffing beneath his helmet. When he pulls it off and rests it on the seat next to his gloves, you can see he’s scowling. “Why are you playing dumb? He’s here for you.”

            “No, he isn’t. He’s with someone else now, and he thinks I am too.” You point out. A low chuckle rumbles past Bucky’s lips as he runs a hand through his hair and starts toward the concrete staircase on the other end of the floor.

            “That’s exactly why he’s doing this, because he thinks you’re with someone else and he can’t stand it.” Bucky sounds so sure of himself, as if he’s experienced something like this before. In fact, he sounds so sure that it makes you wonder if he really has experienced this before.

            “You think he’s jealous? You saw the girl he was with, didn’t you?” You question, falling into step next to Bucky. His leather jacket still sits heavy on your shoulders but giving it back to him hasn’t even crossed your mind yet. Bucky’s hoping you’ll forget about it and keep it on when you walk in and sit down across from that piece of shit ex you’re here for.

            “She doesn’t have shit on you and he knows it.” His words leave your lips parted and your eyes widening in surprise as he reaches the staircase and starts heading down in front of you. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. For the most part, you’ve only ever heard him talk about you with an air of annoyance or indifference, but you could swear that what he just said was almost complimentary. If you could see the grimace on Bucky’s face, you’d know you were right. When he saw the blonde in the grocery store, he wanted to laugh at the way the guy had downgraded after losing you. She was pretty, sure, but you glow like the fucking sun even on your worst day.

            “So, what should I be doing here tonight then?” You ask, knowing Bucky probably has a plan in mind if he came all this way just to witness what’s about to go down.

            “Showing him that you don’t need him, that you’re better off without him.” You reach the bottom of the stairs and step out onto the sidewalk across from the bar. Bucky turns to face you as you scan the area for a crosswalk.

            “And how do I do that?”

            “For starters…” Bucky says, stepping closer to you and grabbing the front of his leather jacket that you’re still sporting, “keep this on.”

---

            Bucky’s been standing at the bar for the last fifteen minutes, nursing both a beer and an aching jaw. The ache is from how hard he’s been clenching his teeth together since your ex strolled in and took the seat across from you at a little two-seater table across the room. Of course, the guy showed up without his new girl. And, of course, he’s been trying like hell to get you to smile and laugh at whatever half-assed jokes he’s been cracking since he sat down. Bucky knew the guy wasn’t after closure.

            He watches with a less-than-pleased look on his face as the guy leans his elbows on the table and rests his hands a little too close to yours, but you don’t pull away. You’re sitting facing Bucky’s direction, yet you haven’t once let your eyes flit up to meet his. It’s infuriating. Bucky strains his ears to pick out your conversation through the din of the usual bar chatter around him. He listens intently as the guy tells you that it was nice to run into you at the grocery store, that he didn’t know if he’d ever see you again, that he missed the way you laughed. What a fucking ass. If Bucky remembers correctly, from overhearing gossip among the team, the guy had you nearly head over heels for him, and then one day he pulled the rug out from under you in and instant. He never even gave you much of a reason why. He simply called you up, ended the relationship over the phone, and a week later you heard through the grapevine that he’d met someone else. Why you felt compelled to meet the guy here tonight, Bucky will never understand. He doesn’t think the prick deserves even a minute of your time.

            “So, you’re really seeing someone else now?” The man’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard to Bucky’s sensitive ears, but he continues to focus on your conversation anyway. Bucky has to know how you’ll respond. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you push a stray lock of hair back over your shoulder, over the shoulder of his leather jacket, and then you blush. Why are you blushing? Bucky’s heart starts to race in the slightest because he can’t figure out if you’re blushing at the idea of you and him being together or at your ex prying into your personal life.

            “Yeah, he uh…at the grocery store, he…” You stutter through your answer. Like Bucky previously said, you’re a bad liar. The pink showing through the skin of your cheeks darkens another shade as you look away from your ex. Your eyes finally land on Bucky, who’s now standing at the bar facing you head-on. He holds your gaze assuredly and gives you a small nod, letting you know that you’re saying the right things. Somehow, just making eye contact with him and getting that small nod of approval calms your nerves.

            “Right, I remember. I guess I kind of thought that was a joke.”

            “A joke?” You ask, a bit offended at your ex’s confession. He rubs his hand across the back of his neck and lets out an awkward laugh before leaning back in his chair comfortably and taking a sip of his drink.

            “Yeah, I mean the guy said you only ever fuck raw. You never once asked me to fuck you raw. It just didn’t sound believable.” Huh. You’re silent for a moment as you sip on your own drink and let your gaze float back to Bucky once more, unaware that he’s just heard every word that the man said. The two of you stare at each other with some kind of…tension in the air between your table and the bar. Honestly, if you and Bucky were actually together in some alternate universe where you didn’t find each other incredibly annoying from the start, you think you would love to let him fuck you without protection. Something about it just sounds so filthy and enticing. But when you imagine it with the man that’s currently sitting in front of you, the man who promised you a lifetime and then kicked you to the curb like a broken piece of furniture, you cringe. No, you never asked him to take off the condom, and you probably never would have. Truthfully, that should’ve been a sign.

            Bucky’s eyes analyze the two of you as you put on a tight-lipped smile and then relax in your seat, fiddling with the zipper of the leather jacket draped around your frame.

            “It didn’t sound believable?” You ask softly, looking up through your lashes in a way that makes Bucky’s cock twitch, and he’s not even the one you’re looking at. When you do flit your eyes over to him, he can sense the change in your demeanor instantly. You’re not coming off so lighthearted and timid now, you’re giving off an air that says you-don’t-know-who-the-fuck-I-am anymore. “When I look at you, I can’t even fathom the two of us having unprotected sex. It never once crossed my mind to ask you for that. But when I look at him?” You let your gaze travel over to Bucky once more, and this time your ex catches on. He turns in his chair, scanning the bar behind him until he sees the super soldier leaning against the bar with a smug smile on full display. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.”

---

            Bucky’s leather jacket weighing on your shoulders, his body warmth seeping through his t-shirt and offering you reprieve from the wind that’s hitting you both head-on, his right hand reaching back to grip the side of your thigh as he weaves his bike skillfully in and out of traffic on the way back to the compound. All of those things are mixing and swirling together to create a near suffocating tension. You’re focusing on keeping your helmet from bumping into the back of his and even more than that, on keeping your mind out of the damn gutter. What you’d said back at the bar, the final thing you’d said before your ex realized he had no chance at getting back together with you, it was true. When you look at Bucky, you can’t stop imagining him fucking you without anything between your body and his. You don’t know when that started or when it might end, but it’s true. So, you left with him, climbing onto the back of his bike much more willingly than you had earlier in the evening. Not because you wanted to be close to him, but because you wanted to get home as fast as possible so you could get the hell away from him. Where on earth did this new found attraction come from? Why was your mind betraying your body with every single glance in his direction? Fuck physiology.

            Bucky can almost hear you overthinking behind him as he turns off of the interstate and onto a quiet, private road leading up to the compound. Hell, he’s overthinking too. He heard what you said at the bar, and he saw the look in your eyes when you said it. Had you been thinking about him the same way he’d been thinking about you since that night at the grocery store. No, there’s no way. If you really had been, then you wouldn’t have wanted to meet up with your ex tonight. Bucky lets out a breath and slows the bike as he nears the entrance to the parking garage. Neither of you said a word when your ex stormed out of the bar, nor did either of you when you made the walk across the street to the public parking garage and started the ride back home. It’s been silent, unbearably silent for too long.

            When Bucky finally parks the bike among the various vehicles owned by your friends and colleagues that reside upstairs, it seems as though you can’t get away from him fast enough. You swing your leg over and dismount the bike quickly before slipping your helmet off and taking a few steps over to the wall to set it on the shelf it originally came from. You’re halfway to the elevator when Bucky speaks, stopping you in your tracks.

            “The jacket, sweetheart.” He says coolly. When you turn around, you see him still sitting on the bike, looking down at the helmet he holds in his hands. It almost bothers you that he isn’t looking back at you. He can call you sweetheart but he can’t lift his eyes to your face? You let out a deep sigh before walking back over to him and standing a foot away from him and the bike. You strip off the leather jacket a bit reluctantly before holding it out to him. You have to admit you feel a bit like you’re missing something without it on now. Bucky takes it without glancing in your direction, and as soon as you turn on your heel to walk away, you can hear him dismounting the bike and setting his own helmet on the shelf. You’ve just hit the button to call the elevator down to the garage when he decides to speak once again. “You’re a bad liar.”

            “What?”

            “You’re a bad liar. I don’t know much about you, but I know that.” Bucky says. You stand in front of the elevator but you can’t tear your gaze away from him when he’s speaking so ominously. You watch him carefully as he turns away from the shelf and faces you, but still doesn’t lift his gaze to meet yours. Instead, he smooths out his leather jacket before laying it over one arm and tucking the keys to his bike into the back pocket of his jeans.

            “What does that have to do with anything?” You question, crossing your arms over your chest. Your eyes dart back to the screen above the elevator. It’s still so many floors away from reaching you.

            “I knew you were lying when you told me he hadn’t texted you. I don’t even think your piece-of-shit ex believed you at first when he asked if you were really seeing someone new, you couldn’t even get a full sentence out. You’re a bad liar.” The words pour out of his mouth with ease, as if he pre-planned the entire speech. When you don’t say anything, he finally lifts his eyes to meet your narrowed stare. A shiver runs down your spine, but you blame it on the fact that you’re no longer wearing his jacket. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.” When Bucky repeats your words so perfectly, you can feel all of the color draining from your face. “When you said that, you didn’t stutter, you didn’t hesitate. You weren’t lying.”

            “You think I was being honest?” The question leaves your lips with a hint of anger edging each word. Bucky merely shrugs in response, tilting his head to the side as he waits for you to answer your own question, since it’s obvious that he thinks you were being honest. “You think I look at you and imagine you fucking me raw?”

            “Do you?” Bucky taunts, licking his bottom lip before drawing it between his lips and pressing his top teeth into it. Your gaze darts down to his lips against your better judgement, and when your eyes settle back on his, all you see is a reflection of what you’re sure your own eyes are showing. Lust. He thinks about it. He thinks about fucking you raw. In this moment, you’re sure. In fact, he’s thinking about it right now.

            Your feet start moving before you even have a moment to consider the action, they’re carrying you straight toward him, ignoring the elevator that’s just arrived to take you away from him. When you stop a few inches in front of him, he’s staring down at you with a raised brow and building anticipation. He wants your answer.

            “Yes.” You breathe the word out. In an instant, Bucky’s dropping his jacket to the floor and tangling his flesh hand in the hair at the nape of your neck as his pulls you into him, crashing his lips against yours. It’s a kiss that takes your breath away and fills your lungs with a fiery burn, yet you don’t want to break for air. You kiss him back, moving your lips to suck along his bottom one as you tilt your head to the right to give each of you better access. Bucky languidly drags the tip of his tongue along your top lip before snaking it lower and letting it delve into your mouth. God, he might’ve imagined fucking you but truthfully, he forgot to imagine kissing you. He never would’ve thought it could be this good. His vibranium arm wraps around your lower back, pulling you closer into him until his body warmth begins sending tingles across the surface of your skin. Once he has you flush against him, that same cool metal hand begins unwrapping from your back and traveling down until it’s in place to grip a handful of your ass, hard. When you gasp into the kiss, Bucky pulls back and bites down on your bottom lip. Fuck. If you don’t stop him now, he won’t be able to stop himself from having you right here in the garage. As if you’re reading his mind, you place both hands on his chest and pull your head back until there’s an inch of space between your mouths. While your eyes are focused on his pink nose and swollen lips, your mind is focused on what you feel pressing against your thigh. He’s fully erect, his cock straining against the front of his jeans just from kissing you. You could overthink this, let your mind weigh all of the pros and cons of what’s happening right now, and then convince yourself to be responsible and go upstairs to your own room, pretending this never happened. But for some reason, your right hand is already coasting down his chest, over his abs, and sliding between your lower bodies. You find yourself palming the outline of his cock, offering him such a perfect amount of pressure and friction that he can’t help but lean his hips forward and press his cock further into your touch.

            “If you don’t stop now…” Bucky rasps, but his eyes flutter closed and he bites down on his lower lip before he’s even finished the sentence, your sensual touch getting the better of him.

            “If I don’t stop now?” You encourage him to say what he wants to say, but you can’t fight the teasing smile that’s beginning to play on your lips.

            “If you don’t stop now, you won’t be able to return all of those pregnancy tests on your next grocery run.” You laugh lightly as you lean in and press a soft kiss against Bucky’s jawline, continuing to rub his erection through the taut fabric of his jeans.             “Are you thinking about fucking me raw, James?” You tease. Bucky groans before opening his eyes and pulling you away from his jaw by your hair. He doesn’t stop you from slowly sliding your hand back and forth along the outline of his cock, but he makes sure you’re looking right in his eyes before he speaks again.

            “Right here in this damn parking garage.”

            Without a single thought in either of your minds, Bucky lets you push your palms flat against his chest and walk him back until he stumbles onto the seat of his motorcycle. In one swift movement, you slip your hand past the waistband of his jeans and boxers and the warm skin of your hand comes into contact with his hard length, without anything between the two of you. Bucky lets out a heady groan and his hands begin moving all on their own, working to unbutton and unzip his jeans to give your hand as much space as possible. As soon as he has his pants undone, you shift your hand and wrap it firmly around his cock, giving it a slow stroke inside of his boxers. When you near the head of it, a bead of precum drips onto the side of your thumb and you smile to yourself as you spread it back over the smooth tip of his cock. What is it about having a man this way that makes a woman feel so damn powerful? Bucky looks at you with a mix of annoyance and awe at the way you’re working his cock so effortlessly yet turning him into putty in your hands. He’ll let you have your fun for now, and then he’ll show you that he can have the same effect on you.

            The moment your eyes lock onto his, he slides his right hand along the side of your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss, the taste of your lips and the feel of your hand stroking back and forth along his hard-on is nearly enough to send him over the edge, and he inhales sharply, tugging his lips away from your own.

            “I’m not going to have much use for those pregnancy tests if we keep going like this, am I?” You ask jokingly, as you remove your hand from Bucky’s pants and raise it up to your face. Bucky runs a hand through his hair as he blows out a breath and watches you intently. Your thumb, still a bit shiny and wet from his precum, ventures dangerously close to your mouth. You keep your eyes trained on Bucky’s as you use that same thumb to tug down your bottom lip before sliding it into your mouth and sucking.

            “Oh, fuck.” Bucky groans, his rationality fleeing as his own flesh hand delves into his pants and begins mimicking your actions from a moment ago. The way your eyes follow his movements, your pupils blown wide with lust as you watch him touch himself, it’s too damn much for him. He grabs you by the hair once again, in that desperate, needy way that you’re quickly growing to love, and pulls you against his chest, kissing you as fervently as the first time. However, this kiss doesn’t last. He pulls away from you in an instant and suddenly, his hand is on your shoulder, pushing you down to your knees. Before you reach the floor, he uses the toe of his boot to slide his discarded leather jacket across the floor to cushion your knees. So fucking thoughtful.

            Bucky stands up with you on your knees in front of him and his bike resting on its kickstand behind him. His eyes never part from your face as he pushes his already undone pants and boxers down his thighs just enough to free his cock from their confines. Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as you lay eyes on it, as soon as you lay eyes on the sheer size of it. Bucky doesn’t make a move to stop you as you reach up with both hands and take hold of his length, using one hand to begin stroking it from the base to the tip while your other hand grips his thigh. Your eyes widen at the way it looks even bigger in your hand, which is a mental image that Bucky will probably be recalling every day for the rest of his life. You’re more than ready to lean in and take him in your mouth, to experience every second of what it’s like to suck him off, but his gentle touch halts your movements. His flesh hand softly cups the side of your face as he lets his thumb caress the skin over your cheekbone.

            “You’re so much bigger than he was.” You whisper, your eyes traveling up Bucky’s torso until you’re getting lost in his gaze. It’s true. Your ex was…well below average in this department. But Bucky? God, Bucky is so far above average it’s actually making you wonder if you can even fit half of him in your mouth. Bucky chuckles lowly before tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, and then copying your earlier move. He slips the pad of his thumb between your lips and watches with hooded eyes as you eagerly accept it, sucking on it gently. Fuck. He’s so ruined. Only a moment later, he’s standing there with his head thrown back and a string of curses are falling from his mouth as you bob your head back and forth, letting his cock slide along your tongue and brush against the back of your throat repeatedly. He’s fully lost in the pleasure of your mouth. He’s so lost, in fact, that when you grip his thighs with both hands and lean into him as far as you possibly can, letting your nose brush against his lower stomach and your throat tighten around his shaft as you gag, he lets out a groan that reverberates through the parking garage and sends a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.

            “Fuck, do that again.” He rasps, finally looking down at you as you pull your head back until only the tip is resting on your tongue. A smile plays behind your eyes as you dare to look up at him. He can’t help himself. Both of his hands move to run through your hair, encouraging you to do exactly what he just said. You repeat your actions, moving your head forward and taking his entire length in until you gag a second time. But this time, Bucky holds your head still there for two seconds. His eyes squeeze shut as your throat grips his cock tighter and tighter, the sensation bringing him so close to the edge that he abruptly pulls back and leaves only half of his length for you to taste. “Just like that, shit.” Another minute of your mouth doing exactly what Bucky wants and he’s fighting with every cell in his body to delay the inevitable. He wanted to fuck you raw, truly, it was his intention from the moment you admitted you thought about it. But having you like this? Having you on your knees for him, telling him that his dick is bigger than the last piece of shit you were with? God, he’s so close to cumming in your mouth that it almost hurts.

            “I’m so fucking close.” He groans the words out as if he’s in pain, as if he’s holding back because he doesn’t want to cum in your mouth. That just won’t do. So, you release him from your mouth with a pop and start working him with your hand as you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze.

            “You don’t want to cum in my mouth?” You ask innocently, looking up at him through your lashes. It’s the same way you looked in the bar earlier and he feels his last bit of resolve crumbling. He could easily cum in your mouth, but that’s just not what he needs right now. In that desperate, needy way that you love, Bucky grasps your hair and pulls you to your feet. A whimper leaves your lips as his cock slips out of your hand.

            “No.” Bucky says calmly, turning you around and pushing your back forward until your hands land on the seat of his bike. “I’m going to give you a reason to use one of those damn pregnancy tests.”

            He’s swift in pulling down your jeans and panties with both hands, and then lining his cock up with your entrance and making you think he’s going to fuck you. But no, Bucky lets the tip of his cock gather the wetness that you’ve been sitting in since you left the bar, and then he begins chasing his release with his own hand. You let out a needy whine, pushing your hips back against him and hoping his cock will just happen to notch inside of you and slide all the way in, but Bucky isn’t going to let it happen until he’s ready.

            He has a plan. He’s going to fill you with his cum first, then use his fingers, his tongue, and his cock to fuck it back into you after. The next time your run into your ex, Bucky wants you to be so fucking pregnant that the guy loses his goddamn mind.

There will be no tag list for the smut menu requests.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

[renova-writes]

the outfit

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 549

warnings: smut, language, implied bdsm??? 

a/n: inspired by personal fantasies and some prompt list I saw while scrolling. I really need to stop using the internet as much. 

masterlist

“Bucky, I need help!” You called from your closet. You had plans to go out with your friends that night and had your hair and makeup done. You were supposed to leave in ten minutes but you were standing in your closet in the giant t-shirt you did your makeup in trying to pick out an outfit.

“Yes?” Bucky asked, poking his head into the messy room. Your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, was tall, with long dark hair, and bright eyes, and was absolutely gorgeous. Not to mention he had good fashion taste. 

“I don’t know what to wear.” You frowned. 

“Lucky you asked me for help.” He smiled at you, the corners of his mouth turned up smugly. He began rummaging around through your drawers and hangers. He threw a skirt at you. You un-crumpled it, confused as to why this skirt in particular was the one he chose. You thought the same thing when he tossed you a shirt. 

“Bucky, that shirt is way too revealing. It barely counts as a shirt.” 

“You asked me for help.” He reminded you, and went back looking around your closet. Finally, he handed you a matching pair of pink lace underwear and bra, and a pair of heels. “I’ll let you get dressed.” 

You had to hand it to Bucky, the outfit looked good, albeit very very sexy. Only your butt and breasts were covered and even then only barely. He had managed to find the shortest skirt you owned and the most revealing top. Butterflies filled your stomach. Bucky had picked out this outfit for you. 

You walked out of the closet to find your room deserted. Bucky must have left, being impatient and not wanting to stick around. You checked to make sure that you had everything in your purse before you headed for the front door. Just as you grabbed the doorknob, you noticed Bucky leaning against the refrigerator. 

“Wait a second, you don’t think you’re actually leaving looking like that?” He laughed.

“Looking like what?” 

“You look like a slut.” 

“You dressed me in this.” 

He walked over to where you stood by the door. You backed up into the door and Bucky put his hand on the wall, trapping you. 

“Bucky-” 

“You look so fucking good right now.” He said, his voice low and husky. You looked down in submission and saw the bulge in his pants. He noticed what you were staring at. “You know you want to.” 

You looked into his eyes before nodding your head. Bucky grabbed your neck and kissed you. He pressed his body into yours deeply and passionately. 

Bucky pulled down your panties and shoved them into your mouth. He undid his pants, picked you up by the waist and pinning you against the wall, he slid his cock into you. He fucked you hard and fast. 

Just as you were beginning to get close to your peak, Bucky cursed and shot warm cum into you. 

“Fuck, baby, that was good.” 

“Not for me. I didn’t get close.” 

“Don’t worry about that, baby. I got some ropes and toys that’ll fix that pretty fast.” 

“But my friends-” 

“Just tell them you got sick. I know you’d rather be here.” 

Bucky did make good on that promise, but you never did ask him for fashion advice again. 

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #the winter soldier smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barns x you #the winter soldier x reader #hot bucky #smut #marvel smut

[avengersfantasies]

If you guys want to send requests with prompts...

Go HERE to see the prompts I've compiled (and still compiling)

#loki x you #loki imagine #loki x reader #dad!loki #loki smut #loki fluff #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier smut #the winter soldier fanfiction #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #captain america x female reader #captain america x you

[espinosaurusrexex]

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)

word count: 10.8k

warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 

You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  

It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 

There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 

The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  

The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 

The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 

You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 

“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 

Holy Shit. 

Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 

Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.

“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”

Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.

“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.

“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 

Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.

The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 

You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 

“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 

“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.

“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”

His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 

“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”

“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.

Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”

Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 

Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 

As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 

“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 

Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 

“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.

“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 

“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 

It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 

Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 

“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 

“Just shut up, punk.”

“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 

Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 

But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 

He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 

“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”

“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 

“You aren’t serious.” 

“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 

“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 

“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 

Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.

“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 

Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 

Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 

“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 

And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 

By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.

You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  

Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 

With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 

You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 

You knew better though. 

People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 

Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.

Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 

So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 

Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 

Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.

He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 

The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 

Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 

It was worrisome. 

He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 

He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.

You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 

“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 

Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“

“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 

Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 

“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 

“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 

You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 

He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 

“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 

His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”

He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 

After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 

Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 

The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 

He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 

The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 

You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 

“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 

“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 

“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 

But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 

You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 

“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 

“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 

“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.

You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 

“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”

“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 

“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 

“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”

“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 

“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”

Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 

“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”

“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 

“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 

“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture. 

Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 

It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 

Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.

It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 

“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 

Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 

The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 

Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 

His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 

He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 

“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 

His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 

Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 

Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 

For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 

Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 

He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  

Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 

“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”

“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”

“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 

“So...?”

“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”

“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?

“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 

You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 

Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 

Happy one month!

Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.

Happy one month.

You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.

You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 

“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 

“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 

“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 

Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.

With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 

It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 

Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 

But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 

“Hello?”

“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.

“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”

“What? When?”

“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 

You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 

Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 

“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 

To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 

“You forgot your flowers.”

“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 

“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”

His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 

“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 

“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”

“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 

“Can I trust you?”

His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 

Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 

You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?

His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 

So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 

Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 

Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 

Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 

No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 

Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re very good at this.”

He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 

Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 

“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 

“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 

You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 

You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”

His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 

“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 

“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 

In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 

“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 

“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 

“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 

“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 

You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?

“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”

“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 

His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 

He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 

You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 

“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”

“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 

“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 

“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”

His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 

“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.

“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 

“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 

“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”

“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 

Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 

“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”

And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.

He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 

A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 

But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 

“Good morning, Sharon.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”

“What? Until when?”

“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”

“Do you know what she has?”

“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 

“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 

“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 

“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 

Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 

“Hello?”

Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 

“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?

“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 

“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?

“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”

You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.

So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 

First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 

It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.

His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 

The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 

Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 

You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 

His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 

He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 

“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 

“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 

“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.

You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.

Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.

Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 

You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 

In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.

Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–

*smack*

His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 

“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 

It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 

“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”

He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”

You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”

Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 

“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 

He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 

He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”

“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 

Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”

He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 

His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 

Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.

I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!

If you’ve read this far, I would be so happy to receive a comment or reblog. It helps writers reach more people in the community and also improve themselves. So, if you have the time, please consider giving me some feedback :) until next time ~Meg 💞

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[downbadf0rficppl]

pink in the night

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Porn with a bit of plot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, soft Buck, SMUT!!!!

AN: Sorry y'all! It's kinda a bit shit but listen, it's self-indulgent so idc :) This is kinda inspired by 'Pink in the Night' by Mitski which I was listening to while writing this. Have a good rest of the week, y'all <3

Repost

Bucky had a love-hate relationship with being your neighbour. On the one hand, he loved seeing your face as you left your room every morning, hair not yet slicked to perfection, and sleep still evident on your face. You seemed a lot more innocent in the morning - conversations more idle.

On the other hand - and perhaps as a downside to his more sensitive hearing - you drove him crazy with the knowledge of things that perhaps he wasn't supposed to know.

This night was no different. You had headed off to bed after a long day, bidding everyone in the kitchen a good night. You grabbed a water bottle before slipping into the elevator, Bucky not far behind. You stepped out of the elevator together and you wished him sweet dreams before slipping into your room. Oh, his dreams were going to be far from sweet.

You see, your beds were pushed up to opposite sides of the same wall, so he could hear you relax on your bed. He could hear you shuffle to strip into just your underwear, and how your hand slipped into your panties. He could hear how your breath hitched as you circled your clit, and your soft moans as you plunged your fingers into your cunt or as your vibrator dipped in between your folds.

He could almost envisage you doing it - a forbidden porno that took root in his mind every night that he heard you finger yourself to completion. The rosy pink flush that you would glow as you came all over your hand. Your heavy rise and fall of your chest as you came down from your high. The small smile that would adorn your face as rolled over to fall asleep - the oxytocin released coursing through your veins.

He felt disgusting as he did - one of those creeps that he intended to protect you from for the rest of his life. But after you'd fallen asleep, he'd hop into the shower to cool his body and his mind - to throw the detestable thoughts of you to the far corners of his mind. But as he fell asleep, you'd re-enter his mind in a different way. A more safe-for-work way. You'd be in his arms, cuddling him and whispering sweet words of encouragement. You'd be cooking him dinner while he told you funny stories about his life with scrawny Steve in the 40s; he'd be washing the dishes while you sat on the counter tell him about your day. He'd worry for your well-being - not as an overbearing coworker but as a loving, doting boyfriend. Maybe husband.

Bucky was getting ahead of himself - he'd have to work up the courage to have more than a few-word conversation with you. But for now, wishing he could hold your hand would have to suffice.

Being Bucky's neighbour was not much easier. Especially when he was completely oblivious to your plight. Even the slight brush of a hand made your heart flutter.

You loved seeing him early in the morning - he always seemed less reserved when he was fresh from a good night's rest. He was faster to smile, faster to laugh. It was nice. You woke up at an ungodly hour to see him just before he headed on his morning run. You couldn't deny that the morning light did wonders for him - you were always left wanting more when he dipped into the elevator.

Oh, and the sounds. Your hearing was not quite as superior as Bucky's, but you definitely heard things that left you clenching around thin air.

You knew Bucky wasn't one to self-complete often - in fact, it was rare that you ever caught on to the act. But you had caught the odd broken moan coming from his room. You turned into molten mush, the weight of your arousal buckling your knees. If there was any sound that could turn you to putty, it was that.

You didn't how many times the idea of Bucky fucking you had played through your mind, but each night a different variation brought you the same ending - your fingers deep in your cunt, coaxing you to a climax.

Every night, you wished his cock, tongue, fingers were filling you up instead of yours, leaving you aching and wishing for more. You wanted to run your nails down his back - leaving permanent reminders of your love for him - while he nipped at your neck - leaving marks claiming you as his.

Sometimes, your brain caught up to your thoughts, reprimanding you for your possessiveness. He wasn't yours, you had to remind yourself, even if you wished he was. For that, you'd have to actually have to have more than a few-word conversation with him - which to be honest, seemed impossible. So you stuck to your nightly wishful dreaming, hoping one day he'd be yours. Only yours.

Summer was the worst for Bucky. You were the type to spend hours upon hours out in the sun, coming back with a budding tan and rosy complexion - it did nothing to quell the budding images flashing in the back of his mind. You. Under him. Panting. Moaning his name as he brought you to the edge. Over and over again. Face glowing pink as you gaze up into his eyes, drunk on love and his cock. Bucky had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.

It didn't help that the clothing you wore did nothing to help his imagination. The semi-sheer tops, the shorts, the swimsuit and bikinis. Every time he saw you, he immediately had to duck back inside to deal with 'a little problem'. More like a very large, very hard, and very obvious problem.

Still, he enjoyed your company more than he had for the better part of his time living in the compound. He listened to your stories, your jokes, helped solve your issues. He felt that - even if you weren't quite what he wanted you to be - your relationship was blossoming into something quite beautiful. And that made him feel a lot braver - he introduced a little comment here and there, a hand always on your waist or the small of your back. He flirted with you from time to time: just to gauge a meter on your reactions, he'd tell himself, as if this was an experiment to crack a hypothesis that had been perplexing scientists for years.

The sun was peaking over the top of the trees surrounding the compound when you woke up. That was a rarity in summer, given that the sun rose at nearly 5am. Still, you didn't miss out on the opportunity to watch the sunrise, curling up on your windowsill with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

You heard Bucky opening his door, and you ran towards yours, grabbing your phone and slippers on your way. You opened your door just as he closed his. He was dressed in gym wear - as always - since he was going on his morning run around the compound track. It was a nice track - one that you rarely frequented - going in and out of the forest behind the compound, totalling about 4.5 miles in distance.

He took you in, eyes bulging as they raked over you. You looked down, following his gaze. Shit. In your rush to see Bucky, you'd forgotten that your nightwear had consisted of some flimsy shorts and your bra - that you had thrown on after waking up to save a modicum of dignity, should someone burst into your room. It was too hot for anything else. You crossed your arms over your chest, which indefinitely made the issue worse as Bucky's eyes lifted way over your head.

"Looking good, babe!" Nat yells, walking across the landing toward you both. Clearly, Bucky had been intending to go on a run with her, maybe fit in a quick sparring session. You sent them on their way, with a 'have fun' and 'don't have too much fun.'

As soon as you were back in the comfort of your room, Nat elbowed Bucky hard.

"Oww! What the fuck was that for?" Rubbing his metal arm, for the convincing act.

"Oh please, you big baby. You have a fucking metal arm, get over yourself." She looked down, "You have a bit of a situation going on down there."

He looks down, embarrassment flushing his cheeks bright red, and subtly tucked his hard dick into his waistband.

"You wanna go sort that out? I won't hold it against you," Nat said, hitting the button to call the lift, "I promise not to tell Stark. Scout's honour." She jokingly holds up 3 fingers. Bucky swats her arm gently.

"No point."

Nat gasps, "No way. Don't tell me Mr. Winter Soldier can't have sex."

"Not sex," Bucky mumbles, "Just jerking off. Can't seem to - you know - finish."

Bucky had a history with Nat. They'd known each other for years. That kind of history made this kind of conversation somewhat less uncomfortable.

Nat burst into laughter. So much for not being uncomfortable.

The lift stopped on Sam's floor. He stepped in, gazing warily at the scene in front of him: the Black Widow doubled over in laughter, and the Winter Soldier embarrassed and uncomfortable in the corner.

He begged to be let in on the joke. Nat wheezed between laughs, "He - can't - fucking - cum!" Bursting into another bout of laughter, with Sam close behind, Bucky jumps out on the next floor, heading to the roof for some fresh air. He catches you up there, trying out some morning yoga. He sneaks up behind you as your stand up, grabbing your waist. You shriek, hitting him hard in the chest, before melting into his embrace once your brain caught up to the situation.

"Not fair!" You pouted, pausing your peaceful music, "Yoga's supposed to be peaceful!"

Bucky chuckles, pulling you into another hug, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck.

"I thought you were going on a run with Nat?" You whispered into his ear, your cheek resting on his clavicle.

"She ditched me for Sam." Bucky opted to leave out the real reason why he had left Nat and Sam in pieces in the elevator.

"Sucks to be you, Barnes!" You laugh pulling away and stepping back onto your mat. "Now leave me alone - just 'cause your friends abandoned you, doesn't mean you can bother me."

Bucky pouted, causing you to laugh before you turned back to your Yoga. He stood there and watched you for a minute, before heading back down to the gym. He strung up a punching bag, before wrapping his flesh wrist. Bucky took all his pent-up aggression and frustration out on the punching bag, allowing no respite between each jab, cross, and hook.

He stayed in the gym for over 3 hours, working every bit of stress out of his body. By the time he left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and a long day of paperwork and training awaited. Bucky headed up to his room for a quick shower - washing all the sweat off his body.

He felt lighter heading downstairs for breakfast - the weight of his arousal pushed far back in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

Since deciding he would pursue you honestly, he couldn't seem to finish, no matter how hard he tried. You had been the only thing to push him over the edge - it seemed his body couldn't do it without you. It was frustrating beyond belief. He'd tried other things, porn, erotica, even thinking back to good times before the war. Nothing helped. It was as if his body was finetuned to you - only you knew the magic password to release him. Figuratively and literally.

When he reached the kitchen, he was privy to a welcome sight. You, in your combat gear, grabbing some granola bars before you jumped on the quinjet. You and Stark were heading on a surveillance mission in Guatemala for the week. You were reaching up to the top shelf, stretching on your tiptoes for the expensive granolas that had been kept on the top shelf. Bucky's granola bars that he had put there to stop anyone else from stealing them.

He reached up from behind you and grabbed the box, placing it in your hands. You looked guilty. You'd been caught red-handed.

"It's fine, doll. Take as many as you want." He said, leaning back against the counter, resting on his forearms. Your face flushed red as you grabbed 2 or 3, shoving them into your bag and turning around to fill up your water bottle.

You shivered when his hot breath fanned across your exposed neck, "Just remember that you owe me."

He was gone by the time you turned around.

The rumour had spread like wildfire while you were away.

"Did you hear that Bucky can't have sex?"

"I heard that Bucky can't - you know - cum?"

"Apparently, his time at Hydra fucked him up worse than he realised."

"He can't even masturbate you know?"

The rumours were getting out of hand, but he let them swirl. There was an ounce of truth to them, even if Hydra had nothing to do with his current predicament.

No, that blame could only lie with you.

When you got back, Bucky had just left on a 4-day-long mission with Sam - which meant you heard all the rumours and Bucky wasn't there to defend himself.

You heard it first when you dropped your suit off for dry-cleaning. One of the tech guys was whispering to Marta, the woman who looked after the dry cleaning of suits, about Bucky's apparent inability to ejaculate. You were shocked. Where the hell did they even get that information? You dropped off your suit and headed back up to your room to shower.

You then heard another mention of it when you went to drop off your reports. Two of the agents that were being reassigned to Steve's team - that were currently on a month-long mission in Chad - were gossiping outside Tony's office.

" - and apparently she ran out crying. Thought she wasn't good enough for him or something along those lines. I don't know."

"Yeah, apparently the breakup was grizzly."

"I feel bad for him you know, all of the shit he went through with Hydra, and now this?"

"Yeah, man, really sucks."

Your face blushed a bright red. What the fuck? Where did this rumour even come from? You knew for a fact that Bucky hadn't had a girlfriend since living in the compound so wherever that part of the rumour came from was completely untrue.

You had to get to the bottom of this.

You spent the better part of the next 2 days collecting bits of information from conversations between people around the compound. You found out that the rumour had originated from a conversation between Nat and Sam, which an agent had overheard while they were on their run. It had been twisted as most oral stories were leading to this big misleading idea that Bucky was unable to even get it up and that he was unable to please a woman. You were sure the latter part was untrue. You'd heard the way he moaned alone in his room - you were sure that you could cum just from his moans alone. He wouldn't even need to touch you.

You didn't think the rumour would affect you when Bucky got back. After all, you knew at least some of it to be false. But when he got back, his beard grown out a little because he couldn't shave it while he was away, you felt embarrassed. Not because of his supposed 'predicament' but because you felt as if you had found out something that you maybe weren't supposed to know.

Bucky caught on quicker than you would have liked. The night after he got back, Tony had thrown a little get-together to 'celebrate midsummer'. Realistically, Tony just wanted a reason to go out and drink with his friends. You had avoided Bucky most of the night - not necessarily intentionally, but Bucky still felt slightly hurt and more than a little confused.

He caught you alone on the balcony, looking out at the stars.

"Did I do something?" He said, sneaking up behind you and making you jump. Nervousness and insecurity laced his every move, worried that he had hurt you in some way that he couldn't possibly imagine.

You shook your head violently, scared to make eye contact with him. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"What's wrong?" You turned back to face the sky, embarrassment filling your chest. He laced his metal fingers into yours, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"It's stupid."

"No, it's not. Nothing's stupid, not if it's you." Your heart fluttered at his words.

Your eyes met his steady gaze, "It's really stupid." His eyes begged you to go on, "It's just that - um - when I got back I - um - heardthisreallystupidrumourandIshouldn'thaveletitgettomebutbasically -"

Bucky placed a hand on your waist, drawing small circles, "Breathe."

"Someone said you had trouble pleasing women." You let out quietly. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he probably would have missed you. His grip on your waist tightened, "Bucky?"

"Trouble pleasing women? That's a new one." His deep voice cut you to your core. You let out a small whimper as the arousal pooled in your panties.

Bucky didn't miss that either.

He grabbed your arm and led you through the party. No one gave you a double look as he lead you into the vacant elevator, slamming your floor number and pushing you up against the wall.

"Think I can't please a woman, huh? Think again. Don't think I don't know what you think about when you cum all over your hand, whining my name under your breath." You whined lowly at his words, feeling how he pushed his hard dick perfectly in line with your throbbing pussy, "Isn't that right, slut? That's what you are, aren't you? My perfect little slut?" You moan at his degrading statement, pushing your pussy further onto his cock trying to find some friction.

"So needy," He tutted, his condescending tone only heightening your arousal. The elevator door pinged and Bucky picked you up bridal-style, kicking the door to your room open. You regularly forgot to lock it while heading down to dinner - for once, both you and Bucky were glad.

He dropped you on your bed, unceremoniously, eyes raking over you ravenously. The heat rose up your face, as you shifted under his unrelenting gaze.

"Oh baby, you don't how long I've been waiting for this." He leaned down locking your lips in a passionate kiss. His palm landed just above your knee, caressing up your leg towards your upper thigh. His hand slid under your dress, cupping your ass. He left a light squeeze, making you gasp into the kiss.

He leaned down, grabbing you with ease, flipping you both so you were straddling his waist. He tangled his flesh hand in your hair, the metal one possessively gripping your hip. He brought you down to his lips for another kiss - even when you were on top, he made sure you knew that he was in charge.

He toyed with the hem of your dress, eyes raking over you once again.

"Off."

You pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. You felt seriously underdressed, especially considering Bucky was still in his jacket. He reaches up, joining your lips in another kiss, and reaching around to remove your bra. He tosses it to the side, running his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. You moan loudly, panties soaked. He takes his time pinching and squeezing your nipples, licking and biting as he went. The alternate sensations of one warm hand and one ice-cold heighten your arousal ten-fold. You buck your hips over his jeans, the sensation of his fly between your sensitive folds throwing you into overdrive.

His grip on your waist tightened once again. "I can feel your cunt throbbing, honey." You whimpered pathetically. "Go ahead, use me to get off. I know you want to."

Your hips started bucking off their own accord, clothed pussy running over the fly of his jeans. They started slow, getting a feel for what exactly you were doing. Bucky's hands started pushing you faster, setting a faster groove. The coil in your stomach began to tighten as your bucking became more erratic. You teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Bucky stopped you.

"Beg." He restarted your pace, faster and more erratic than before.

"Please, please, please, please, Bucky, please let me cum, please..-" You babbled, tripping and stumbling through your pleas. With a searing kiss, he gives you permission.

"I love you, I love you, I love, OH-" You fall off the edge of one of the hardest orgasms you've ever had, head empty with only one thing on your mind. Bucky.

You feel Bucky manhandle your body so your back is lying on the bed and he is towering over you. He asks you if you want to go on and all you can do is nod your head vigorously.

He chuckles, "I like your enthusiasm baby, but I need words. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, YES!" You shout, breathlessly, already needing more.

He's fully naked and it's all you can do to not stare. He's definitely a well-endowed man, and he definitely has no problem getting it up.

"Like what you see?" He smirks, and you slap his thigh playfully. He pulls you further toward the edge of the bed and lines his dick up with your slick folds. He slides in slowly, holding your chin up so you keep eye contact with him. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head in satisfaction. You've never felt so full in your life. He presses into you slowly, feeling the way your tightness engulfs him, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You whimper softly as he pushes in - you never realised just how desperate you were for him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He chuckles, watching as tears leak out of your eyes. His condescending tone was back, and all it did was make you hornier. You babbled incoherently, "Gone dumb already? What a cock-drunk little slut you are."

He trails a metal finger up the side of your torso, watching the goosebumps left in its wake. You whimper again.

"Such a needy little baby. Only I can take care of you like this, right? Only me."

"Only you." You affirmed, pressing a kiss to the arm near your head.

He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming all the way back in. You screamed in pleasure, and Bucky set a brutal pace. He pinned your arms above your head with his right hand, and his left hand came to wrap around your throat. The significance of that was not lost on you. He loved you enough to not hurt you, even with his metal arm.

"I love you, baby. You know that right?" Bucky looked you deep in the eyes, "You know I love you right?"

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," You babble back, lost in the throes of passion.

Bucky found your clit with his metal hand, pressing and flicking gently. You felt your muscles tighten for a second time, and you grabbed the sheets throwing your head back as you came harder than the first time.

Bucky came moments later, deep inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself into his neck.

He chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bear hug. You stayed like that for a minute before he untangled himself from you and carried you to the bathroom.

He turned on the shower and you both stepped under it, cleaning the sweat and cum off your bodies. Your legs felt like jelly, so you leaned heavily into Bucky as he washed you off.

"Stay awake, doll, just for a second," He said, shaking you awake each time you dozed off in the shower.

Bucky pulled some of your clothes onto your body, before setting you down on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before promising to be back soon.

He snuck into his room wrapped in a towel, before throwing on the first pair of sweats he could find and dashing to the kitchen for a cup of water.

He snuck back into your room, to see you already dead asleep on the bed. He slipped under the covers, tugging you closer to his chest, and smiled.

Through your grogginess, you nuzzled into his chest. "I love you." You whispered, your lips resting against his heart.

You woke up to the sound of soft snoring in your ear and sunlight streaming through the window. You smiled. You untangled yourself from Bucky's arms, disappearing into your bathroom to pee. You wash your face and brush your teeth before diving back into Bucky's arms.

Your legs were still sore from last night, but you didn't care. You were Bucky's and Bucky was yours. The very thought put a massive smile on your face.

"What's tickled your feather this morning?" Goddamn, his morning voice was sexy. You smiled and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

Bucky smiled through the kiss. He picked you up by the thighs, carrying you while he brushed his teeth and splashed his face.

The compound was pretty silent, barely anyone was awake after drinking the night away. So, while Bucky made you pancakes for breakfast, you asked him the question, "Hey, Buck, where did the rumour come from?"

He looked at you, vaguely embarrassed, "You know that day, when me and Nat were gonna go down to train?"

You face flushed red, "When I walked out in my underwear?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "I got a hard-on, like a teenage boy."

You stifled a laugh.

"So, Nat said, do I wanna go deal with it? And I told her I couldn't."

You looked at him confused, "Why not?"

"Cause of you," he said simply. You looked at him even more confused, "You were the only thing I got get off to. I tried everything else. Porn, erotica, even thinking about old sex. Nothing worked."

You flushed red again. "Oh god, I've weirded you out, haven't I?" You broke off his impending spiral with a kiss.

"I love you." You said, placing a kiss on his bare chest.

He looked at you with such love and reverence that you felt like you might combust under his gaze.

He kissed you again and all you could think was, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

I love you, I love you, I love you.

I love you I love you I love you.

fin.

buy me a coffee

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bukcy barnes #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #bucky imagine #bucky smut

[pedrito-friskito]

the way we were / the way we are - chapter 15 - way down we go

summary: the aftermath, and moving on...?

warnings: in a shocking twist - MORE ANGST

a/n: welcome to civil war.

| series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 |

The door slams shut behind you, and Bucky sinks to his knees.

The wood is hard and unforgiving, and hot tears stream down his cheeks, but he can’t bring himself to unclench his fists, to wipe them away.

Seventy years.

You were right there. You were right there in front of him again after all that time. He could feel the warmth of your skin, hear your heartbeat, taste your lips. Seventy years, he’d lived without you. Your face had been the only thing that kept him alive, kept him grounded, kept him tethered to who he really was. You were the only thing that stopped him from taking over.

And even so, he’d sent you away.

He’d seen the look in your eyes, the heartbreak clear as day on your face. He was destroying you – and himself – but when you’d mentioned Tony Stark…there was no other way.

You’d never forgive him; he’d never forgive himself.

It’s better this way, he thinks to himself. He can’t protect you, or give you the life you deserve. It always ends in a fight, and he can’t drag you into this. If something were to happen to you…

It’s better this way. He’s better off alone.

No matter how much he loves you.

Part of him wonders if you’ll stay true to your word, or if you’ll tell Steve where he is. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. He’d broken your heart, and he wasn’t the man you’d promised your life to in 1943. He didn’t deserve your trust, not anymore.

Silently, he cleans up the apartment, righting the drawers you’d pushed over in your exit – an image he knows won’t be leaving his brain anytime soon – and grabs his backpack. He ignores the tingling in his chest, the still-warm spot where your palm had been flat against his heart. Without another thought, he disappears into the night.

+

You touch down at the Tower late in the evening, and Steve is waiting for you on the landing pad, still dressed in his gear, and greets you with a warm hug.

“How’d it go?” he asks, squeezing you against his chest.

For a moment, you want to tell him the truth. You want to break down and sob until you can’t see straight, let out every single thing you’ve been holding in since you walked out of that apartment in Vienna. It would be so easy.

But you gave your word.

“Dead end,” is what you say instead, lifting a shoulder. There are tears building in your eyes, and you blink hard, stepping out of Steve’s embrace.

“But the tags,” Steve says, his brow furrowing. “He left them for you. He had to.”

“I think it was his way of saying goodbye,” you reply, your voice low. “I don’t think he wants to be found.”

Steve’s eyes search yours for a moment, and you can only pray that he can’t see the hurt in them. Your chest aches, and if you close your eyes, you can still feel Bucky’s hand in yours, feel the scars beneath your fingertips, feel his mouth ghosting across your lips.

“It’s good to have you back,” Steve says, hugging you close again. “Tony is in the lab, asked me to send you up when you landed.” You nod and Steve drops a kiss to the top of your head before he releases you. “Wanna have a movie night later? Like old times?”

You shake your head. “I think I’m just gonna head to bed after,” you say, averting your eyes from his. “I’m exhausted.”

He just nods, and you don’t miss the look him and Sam share. They start talking once you’re out of earshot, but you shuffle your way onto the elevator, hitting the button for the lab floor.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Barnes,” a feminine Irish voice says as the doors slide shut and you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Where’s Jarvis?”

“You can call me Friday,” the AI responds.

You’re confused, but you go with it. “All right. Just call me Y/N then, Friday. No need for formalities.” It hurts too much.

“Whatever you need, Y/N.”

Tony is waiting for you when the elevator doors slide open and instantly pulls you into a bear hug. He looks a little rough around the edges, but mostly intact. “Hey, kid.” He keeps his arm around your shoulders, leads you into the lab. “There’s something I want your input on. If you’re up for it.”

You nod enthusiastically; you hadn’t been lying when you told Steve you were exhausted, but you’re happy for any kind of distraction.

Vision is not what you were expecting.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Tony says defensively, throwing his hands up, “but Thor gave us the go ahead.”

“Hello, Y/N,” Jarvis’ voice says, holding a hand toward you. You warily reach out your own, and your breath hitches when his hand closes around yours. He’s…warm.

You tilt your head to the side slowly, bracing yourself for the same onslaught you’d felt with Ultron. But as your eyes focus, the only thing you feel is…comfort. He’s…human, in a way, but also not. You can see the same network of connections and synapses you’d seen in Ultron, but they’re different. They’re kind. Inquisitive. Peaceful.

Peace in our time.

Vision smiles at you as he studies you, his eyes searching yours. “It’s quite an extraordinary gift that you have, Y/N,” he says, and you realize your hands are still touching. “Perhaps we could be of use to one another.”

You just nod, the corner of your mouth twitching.

Tony leads you up to the residence after that. You meet Wanda, who’s incredibly quiet, but has a far-off look in her eyes that you think you understand. Nat greets you enthusiastically, but there’s a strange glint in her eyes too, and it takes you a second to realize why.

“Where’s Bruce?”

Her face goes almost blank, unreadable, and all she says is, “Fiji.” Then she turns on her heel and disappears in the direction of her room.

Tony fills in the rest of the details, informing you that the giant green rage monster had commandeered a Quinjet as they were fleeing Sokovia, and had managed to engage the stealth tech onboard, making the plane completely untraceable, even to Tony. “He’ll come back when he’s ready,” Tony says, and you’re not sure who he’s trying to convince, you or himself. “He’s probably laid up on a beach somewhere, drinking margaritas, turning brown instead of green.” He smiles at you, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Can’t say I blame him.”

You head to your room after bidding Tony goodnight, collapsing into your bed the moment you see it. You pull the blankets around you, trying to will back the tears you’d felt when you’d lied through your teeth to Steve, searching for some kind of relief. But they don’t come. It’s like this is your punishment, for lying to his face.

Eventually, you fall asleep, but wake from a nightmare a few hours later, one involving a whirring mechanical arm, eyes like steel, and a metal hand around your throat. You jolt awake, but there’s no screaming, and Steve doesn’t appear at your door like he usually would.

Too alert to go back to sleep, you head for the kitchen, fix yourself a snack, and after snagging a blanket from one of the couches in the living room, you head out onto the Tower’s terrace. You perch at the edge of the landing pad, your legs dangling over the edge, blanket tucked around your shoulders. The city is still awake below you, full of lights and the hum of cars and people. It’s true what they say, New York is the city that never sleeps.

It’s not long until you hear the door slide open again, and you look over your shoulder to see Nat step out onto the terrace. She’s bundled in a thick sweater zipped to her chin, and a pair of fuzzy slippers that look like kittens. Wordlessly, she pads over to you and sits on the ledge beside you. You offer her an apple slice and she takes it, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“You wanna talk about it?” you ask.

“No.”

“You wanna go to Fiji?”

She scoffs. “No. Oddly enough, Fiji is the last place I want to be right now.”

You’re both quiet for a minute, listening to the city below.

“Tony’s right,” she says finally. “He’ll come back when he’s ready. But, it just wasn’t meant to be. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

Her words strike a chord in you, and you swallow back the tears that automatically rise. “Could you do something for me?” you ask.

Nat lifts her head from your shoulder, gaze locking with yours. “Of course. Are you okay?”

Your nose crinkles. “That I haven’t quite decided yet. But I…I need to tell you something. I need to tell somebody. But I need you to promise that you won’t tell Steve. Or Tony.”

+

A year seems to pass in the blink of an eye.

After things settle from the aftermath of Ultron, and the new Avengers facility upstate is fully operational, you and Steve see less and less of each other. He’s intent on training the new group to be the earth’s next saviours, and while you’d fought him hard for the chance before, you can’t find the urge this time. Yes, it would be a distraction, but it’s not the kind you want.

He keeps you updated on the team’s progress, sends you mission updates and you offer gear upgrades when you have them. You try and video chat once a week, but as time goes on, it dwindles, and months go by. You still text on occasion, but it’s not the same.

One night, he calls. It’s late, nearly two in the morning, but you answer. You always answer.

“I miss you,” he tells you, his voice kind of raspy through the phone, “and I’m worried about you. Maybe it’s not my place, but I’m worried.”

You drag a hand over your eyes, blinking at your ceiling. “I’m okay, Steve,” you say, “I promise.”

“You could still come up here,” he says. “There’s a spot for you, if you want it.”

“I…” You sigh. “I can’t. Not yet, anyway. I know, that I fought you on it before, but now, I’m not so sure I’m the best fit. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on Tony.”

“And who’s gonna keep an eye on you?”

You stay at the Tower with Tony, help him through the aftermath when Pepper gives him an ultimatum and decides they need to take a break. Mostly, the two of you just work, pouring yourselves into the Stark Relief Foundation and trying to find more ways to help. He’s more than thrilled to make you his new head of R&D at Stark Industries, and it’s exactly the distraction you need.

When Tony starts developing Binary Augmented Retro-Framing – and an acronym you laugh at every time you hear it – it keeps you even busier. The concept blows your mind, and you can’t stop studying the way it works. And when Tony wants to test it out, you’re quick to volunteer.

The first memory that comes is that night before he shipped out, when Bucky took you dancing. The Retro-Framing picks up on every detail; you can hear the music, see every button on Bucky’s uniform, the bottle of champagne you’d shared. It’s perfect. Except you can’t feel his warmth, you can’t feel his hands on your body.

It’s too much.

When you drop the glasses onto the table and all but sprint from the lab, Tony is quick to follow. He finds you on the terrace crouched in the middle of the landing pad, your face in your hands. The wind howls as he crosses the pad to you, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“You know,” he says, reaching out and putting a hand on your shoulder, “I realize, I’ve never asked you what it was like. Being on the ice for so long. Or Steve. I never asked. I just tried to fix you, from the get-go. I should have asked.”

Slowly, you pull your hands from your face. Your cheeks are wet with tears, and Tony reaches up and wipes them away with his thumb. “I dreamt about him. For seventy years. I just…I slept. And I dreamt about him. I imagined our life together, that we had the chance to grow old, and no matter what, I always came back to that.” You point over his shoulder, in the direction of the lab. “But I haven’t…I haven’t…I can’t…” You dissolve into tears, unable to form a coherent sentence. You put the tears off for so long, and here they are.

He manages to get you back inside the Tower, puts a blanket around you, deposits you on the couch. And then he calls Steve.

The Quinjet touches down not thirty minutes later, and Steve finds you in the same spot Tony had left you, arms around your knees, your gaze far off. He doesn’t say anything, he just scoops you into his arms and carries you up to your room. He sets you on the bed, pulls you against his chest, and turns on a movie. It isn’t until the credits roll that you open your mouth.

“What was it like for you?” you ask, and your voice is still thick with tears. “In the ice.”

He clears his throat before he speaks, hand squeezing your shoulder. “I don’t remember most of it, honestly. It just felt like falling asleep. I dreamt for a while, about Peggy, and you and Buck. I imagined what could have been, if things had been different.”

“And then you woke up.”

Steve nods, turns his head and kisses your temple. “And then I woke up.”

“What if I never see him again?” you say, and Steve just pulls you closer. “What if he never comes back?”

“He will,” he murmurs against your hair. “When he’s ready.”

You’ve been sitting on the fear for a long time. You’d kept quiet, just like you’d said you would, but the heartbreak was real. He’d forced you to leave, he’d made his choice. And made yours for you in the process.

Steve stays the night – you watch movies in your room until you both pass out – but leaves early in the morning; the team has a lead on Rumlow for the first time in months and he’s headed to Lagos. (You’d had to stifle your rage the first time they’d told you Brock Rumlow had survived the Triskelion, but Steve’s promise to hunt him down had helped.)

Tony has a presentation at MIT, the first public introduction to the Retro-Framing and the announcement of the September Foundation. You accompany him, stand in the wings while he presents. Your heart leaps in your chest while he displays his memory; an older version of Howard Stark, a version you never got to see in person. And Maria Stark, who you never got to meet.

He disappears after the presentation, clearly thrown off when Pepper’s name appears on the teleprompter. It makes you curse under your breath; Pepper was still involved in the company, and the September Foundation, but she’d failed to inform either of you she wasn’t attending the presentation.

When you find him again, his hand are shaking, and he can’t bring himself to look anyone in the eye.

On your way back to the Tower, the news breaks about what happened in Lagos, and Tony gets a call from the Secretary of State.

+

He’s been writing. As things come back, he’s been writing notes.

There are dozens of notebooks, filled with scribblings and memories. He always has one in his pocket, a pen stuck inside it. They’ve been coming at random lately; he’ll see something out of the corner of his eye, hear a name, smell something particular.

More than half of the books are filled with his memories of you.

Baseball games, the pier, the bookstore. It goes on and on and on. He remembers everything.

It’s been a year since he saw you, but he thinks about you everyday. He remembers all of you.

The only problem is, he remembers all of them too.

+

Tony heads for the compound upstate, but you stay behind at the Tower. He called you after the initial meeting and asked if you’d join, said that as a super-soldier yourself, you deserved input on what Ross was proposing. But after you heard Steve’s side of things, you refused.

“It’s not my place,” you told him. “I’m not an Avenger, not really. I’m Switzerland, Tony. I can’t pick a side between you and Steve. Don’t ask me to.”

The call comes in the afternoon, a number you don’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Y/N Barnes?”

“Speaking.”

“I’m calling on behalf of the estate of Margaret Carter.”

Your heart drops. “Oh, god.”

“I’m very sorry to inform you, Mrs. Barnes, but Margaret Carter passed away last night. She went peacefully, in her sleep.”

Your lip is quivering. “Does Steve…has Captain Rogers been informed?”

“We were unable to reach him. Is there a number you could give us?”

“I’ll tell him,” you say. “Thank you.”

The line goes dead. You swipe your hands under your eyes and pull up Steve’s contact. They’re still in the meeting – Tony said he’d let you know when they were done – so you send a text instead.

She’s gone, you type out. In her sleep.

+

Steve carries the coffin. It’s like you can see his heart break a little more with every step.

You sit in the front with Sam, watch as they carry Peggy’s coffin up the aisle. There’s a large photo of her at the top of the steps, young and beautiful; it’s exactly how you remember her, from 1945.

Steve sinks into the pew beside you after they set the coffin down, and your reach for his hand. The priest says his piece, and then, “I would like to invite Sharon Carter to come up and say a few words.”

Your eyes go wide as you watch Steve’s neighbour from Washington appear and walk up to the podium. You hear Sam’s sharp inhale, and he nudges Steve, who looks up, eyes going wide.

“I thought her name was Kate,” you say to Sam.

“Margaret Carter was known to most as a founder of S.H.I.E.L.D., but I just knew her as Aunt Peggy.”

You and Steve both inhale sharply at the same time.

Sharon continues. “She had a photograph in her office. Aunt Peggy standing next to JFK. As a kid, that was pretty cool. But it was a lot to live up to. Which is why I never told anyone we were related.” Her eyes flick up from the podium, land directly on Steve. “I asked her once how she managed to master diplomacy and espionage in a time when no one wanted to see a woman succeed at either. And she said, compromise where you can. But where you can’t, don’t. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move, it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye and say, ‘No, you move.’”

Nat makes an appearance after the funeral. You say a quick hello, and then you and Sam head out, giving her and Steve some time alone. You can’t help yourself from asking. “Have they…?”

Sam starts laughing. “Professed their undying love for each other?”

“Exactly.”

“Not yet,” Sam says. “Steve’s a stubborn ass sometimes, Nat is still hung up on Banner, and I feel like now…” He glances over his shoulder in the direction of the church. “Just not the right timing, y’know?”

You nod. “I do.”

Nat and Steve exit the church a few minutes later. Nat hugs you goodbye, pecks your cheek, and disappears. Sharon Carter makes an appearance then, shyly asking Steve if they can get a cup of coffee and talk. He agrees, and you all walk in the direction of the nearest café. After killing some time, Sharon says she has to go, and Steve offers to walk her back to her hotel. You and Sam follow, hanging back to give them some space. You walk into the hotel, hang in the lobby while Steve walks Sharon over to the elevator. You and Sam head for a coffee cart, watch the news while you wait.

You’re engrossed in your coffee when you hear Sam’s whispered, “Shit.”

Next thing you know, you’re up in Sharon’s hotel room, sitting on a couch, hand over your mouth.

A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. More than seventy people have been injured. At least twelve are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Solder. The infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.

“It’s not him,” you say instantly. “There’s no way he did this. It’s not him.”

You feel Steve’s warm hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. “We have to find him.”

His phone rings a few minutes later. Nat. With a warning to stay out of it.

It takes a few hours, and you take the time to prepare, changing out of the dress you’d worn to the funeral and into something less conspicuous. Steve and Sam do the same, and you meet Sharon in a coffee shop around the block from her hotel.

“Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter Soldier goes to her gym,” she tells you, and you scoff. “Most of it’s noise. Except for this.” She slides a file across the counter, and you flip it open, studying the location mapped on the page inside, then slide it to Steve, who does the same. “My boss expects a briefing, pretty much now, so that’s all the head start you’re gonna get.”

“Thank you,” Steve says.

“You’re gonna have to hurry,” Sharon says. “Twenty-four hours, and then we have orders to shoot on sight.”

Sharon disappears into the crowd, and Steve flips the file shut. “Time to go to work.”

You put a hand on his arm. “Let me go first.”

Steve sighs, glances around the shop. “Y/N…”

“Please,” you say, turning to him. “I have to. Seventy years, Steve. Seventy years since I saw him as him.” It’s a lie. You’re lying through your teeth to him again, but you have to.

“He’s been missing for two years,” Steve says. He’s trying to reason with you. “We don’t know what kind of state he’s in. And if he did this-”

“He didn’t,” you shoot back, you hands clenching at your sides. “I saw him, that day in Washington. He’s in there. He has to be. Let me do this. Please.”

Steve is silent for a long moment, muscle working in his jaw, before his gaze shifts back to yours. “Fine,” he says finally, and your heart leaps in your chest. “But you go in armed. Just in case.”

+

A few hours later, you’re in Bucharest. The apartment is easy enough to locate, and the lock is even easier to pick. It’s a rundown place, barely more than a room and a kitchen. There’s a bare mattress on the floor, a threadbare couch, but the dishes beside the sink are clean, and there’s milk in the fridge.

You’re skeptical at first, worried for a moment that it’s a set up, and keep your gun handy, flicking the grip on the holster at your thigh. Your senses are on high alert, but enough time passes and nothing happens. So you just…wait.

It’s nearly midnight when you hear the doorknob rattle. Eighteen hours, you think to yourself. You have eighteen hours.

You’re perched on the edge of the couch, elbows braced on your knees, fingers steepled at your lips.

The door swings open and familiar blue eyes go wide. Just blue. James Buchanan Barnes.

“Hi, Bucky.”

—————

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𝓢𝓮𝓫𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓪𝓷 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓷 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

Masterlist Keys:

🔞= SMUT 😈= Dark ⚠= Trigger Warning 💖= Fluff

⛓=Non/Dub Con 🐺= AOB ⭐= Personal Favorite

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 All characters are above 18. This is all a fanfic/Au reality so don’t take it seriously. Please be kind and respectful if you have any comments, questions, and thoughts on this story.

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