#winter solider fanfiction
I knew I recognized this from somewhere...🤔🤔
Loki its your turn :)
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Pairing: Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader
18+ MINORS DNI
Warnings: implied smut nothing too crazy, self image issues, age gap (reader is in early twenties, Buck is late thirties early forties), female aligned reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Synopsis: You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine's favorite teacher and Bucky's just gotta meet you.
Teacher's Favorite AU || Masterlist
The digital clock above the radio mocked you as each minute ticked by. Early meetings were never fun. Something about sitting at a table crowded with tired teachers was draining. Reaching across the middle console you grabbed the tote filled with miscellaneous craft supplies, failing to catch the few googly eyes that fell onto the floorboard. Stepping out into the cool morning air you suppress a shiver making your way up to the entrance.
Everything was quiet early in the mornings. No kids running down the halls or teachers blowing those stupid whistles trying to make them calm down. A smile made its way onto your face seeing the new bulletin board you had slaved over for a few days. Pictures of each of the kids next to their artistic renditions of the school building. You were only a week into the year and it was already so busy you could barely keep up with the work. Approaching the conference room you could smell the coffee and stale bagels the school board provided as a half ass incentive to quote: “Have a good year!”. Honestly, you’d rather them be blunt with you on new policies instead of them pretending they care.
Because to be clear, they don’t.
Stepping into the room you found yourself a seat and waited patiently as all the other’s slowly filtered in. It was a long meeting going over the same policies you’d already read over. While they rambled on you did some lesson planning, specifically on today’s lesson. In the evening there was a PTA meeting and an open house planned. Thankfully, you didn’t have to sit in on the PTA moms arguing about a fall festival that was weeks away, but you were in charge of having something for the kids to do while their parents were there. Today’s lesson surrounded the reading book you were reading to the class, Goodbye Summer Hello Autumn. The theme was the change in seasons and the kids seemed to love it. You were trying to think of something that could coincide with the lesson as well.
No one responded. Mrs.Florence clapped her hands together and dismissed everyone. “Excellent job on the bulletin board. Very cute.” She said, patting you on the back on the way out. “Yes.” You silently congratulated yourself. Praise from that woman was nearly impossible to receive, and you were really trying. Being so much younger than a majority of the teacher’s made it incredibly hard to gain respect. Sometimes it was worse than highschool, and you had to remind yourself constantly that it wasn’t for you, it was for the kids. Those little smiles were worth far more than anyone else’s approval. Stepping into your classroom you flipped the lights on and began setting up for the day. Crayon baskets at each table, each student’s writing journal, and selecting the helper’s for the day.
Paper collector, line leader, and snack helper were high honors in a first grade classroom.
Finally turning on the board you put up the plan for the day and finally took a seat waiting for your TA and the kids to come in. Just in time Hailie came in with a string of excited children behind her. Hailie was your assistant and you were thankful for her more than you could even express. “Good morning guys!” You said standing up watching all of them put their things away in their cubbys. You received a plethora of replies and most of them were excited screams. “They’re extra hyper today.” Hailie huffed, sinking down into her chair. You gave her a pitiful smile before walking around your desk.
“Sweetheart!” A little voice caught your attention and you looked over. Elaine came running at you full speed and wrapped her arms around your legs. “Hello Elaine. What did I tell you about sweetheart?” You laughed crouching down to give her a proper hug. She giggled, throwing her arms around your neck. “Sorry miss. I like sweetheart. You are sweetheart! My daddy calls me sweetheart too!” She explained, stumbling over her words a bit. “Oh Elaine.” You sighed, watching her run off.
Picking favorites was wrong, and you didn’t.
Elaine Barnes held a special place in your heart already. Only a week in and she came in everyday giving you a hug and called you sweetheart. It was the sweetest thing you’d ever seen. She came in on the first day a little nervous and with a little soothing she quickly proclaimed you as her favorite teacher. She had to be the most polite little girl you’d ever met. When she first called you sweetheart it made you laugh. She insisted on explaining to you why in a dramatic manner.
“Daddy says that my heart is sweet so I am his sweetheart. I think your heart is sweet so you are my sweetheart!”
You accepted it pretty quickly, but you told her she still needed to call you by your name in class. A pinky promise sealed your fate and now – to Elaine – you were sweetheart.
After they’d settled down you dived into your plans for the day. They all listened and asked questions as you read and nothing made you happier. After that they began their coloring sheets, some of them sticking their tongues out as they focused on staying in between the lines. You walked around making sure to complement each of their work and providing some help on color decisions. “Oh, wow! That’s amazing Trevor. I’ve never seen a Care Bear leaf before.” You said, earning a happy grin from the boy. He went on telling her about each of the leaves and the different bears they represented. Things like this just made all the early morning meetings and bad coworkers worth it. Giving him a pat on the shoulder you continued circling around everyone else.
“Psst! Sweetheart!” Elaine not so subtly whispered. You raised an eyebrow at her crouching beside her seat. “Look! I made this leaf look like a cow!” She pointed at the paper happily. Looking at the paper you made a shocked face. “Oh my goodness. Cow’s can’t be on leaves!” You said trying to get a rise out of her. Laughing, she shook her head, “Noooo! Its just the colors! The leaf isn’t a cow, silly.” You nodded in understanding before standing once again. Reaching out she grabbed your hand and tugged on you. “Wait, guess what?” She said grinning. “What?” She shifted in her seat, sitting down her crayons in the process.
“I’m coming back later, and daddy’s coming too.” She said, clearly excited at just the thought. You smiled squeezing her little hand. “That’s great! I can’t wait to meet him!” You said, satisfied with her happy nod. The timer pinged and the kids all began tossing their crayons back in the basket. Walking over to your desk you grabbed your keys looking over at Hailie. “Lunch already?” You laughed at her confused look and stood by the door watching as she directed the kids into a single file line. With a quick talk about hallway manners you lead them down the hall and to the cafeteria. Hailie took over directing them to their tables and you headed back to the classroom.
You had thirty minutes until recess and you planned on using that time to its fullest extent. In that short walk you though of a craft for later in the evening. Just cut out some paper leaves on some different construction paper and let the kids decorate them as they pleased. Simple enough and easy to keep them occupied while their parents form nasty cliques against members of the PTA board. You cut out various leaf shapes until you heard the familiar sound of little footsteps down the hall.
Instinctively you smiled at the sound sitting down the scissors you were holding too hard. Flexing your fingers you huffed as Elaine came running into the room. “Hey! Miss Hailie said it’s time to go to the playground.” She said coming around your desk and staring up at you. “Lead the way.” You smiled. Grabbing your hand she tugged you from your chair and down the hall. Looking down at her you just smiled at how cute she was. Her wavy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail with a big blue bow on top just accentuated her cuteness. From what you understood it was just her and her dad, and really if her dad was the one fixing her hair and dressing her then he was pretty damn good at it. Usually you could tell when a mother allowed the father to dress the kid for a day. They’d come in with an oddly matched outfit and a less than perfect hairdo. It was always cute but you could just tell the difference.
“I love your bow today Elaine. It makes your eyes look so pretty.” You said. Reaching up and touching her head it was like she remembered she had a bow in the first place and she gasped. “Oh! Daddy picked this one to match my dress. Aunty Nat made it for me on my birthday.” She said, skipping alongside you. “Well it’s very cute.” You smiled. Joining all the rest you listened to their in depth reviews of how their lunch was.
“My mom cut my sandwich in the square shape and I hate it.”
“I had six gummies and they were really good.”
“I gave some of my goldfish to Layla and she ate them like she was a birb.”
Those were just some of the comments you heard. Either way it made you smile. First graders had a lot more to say than adults give them credit for. Leading them outside it was like opening the gates to a herd of sheep. Each of them ran like mad towards the playground. Standing under the awning you watched and waited for anything to happen. Surprisingly only one kid fell, and you were quick to apply a Star Wars bandaid that had all the other children ooo-ing and ahh-ing. You didn’t even have to comfort them much, the excitement of everyone complimenting his bandaid got rid of all his tears. Once time was up Hailie blew the whistle and they all lined up. The day went on smoothly after that. Hailie taught the second half of the lesson while you prepared for the evening. When the time came you told them all to get ready for dismissal and they dug through their cubbies and waited patiently.
Once the bell rang there was a chorus of sweet goodbye’s rushing out the door. “Bye guys have a good evening!” You said plopping down in your chair. Before Hailie closed the door Elaine came racing back into the room giving you a big hug. “Bye bye sweetheart. I’ll see you later!” She sang, waving her arms as she ran back out the door. You let out a laugh leaning back in your seat.
“She loves you to death.”
You smiled, “That’s little Elaine.”
Bucky didn’t think this open house was that big of a deal.
Just a way for parents and teachers to meet, but to his daughter it was the most important thing ever. The moment she got into the car she was talking about how she couldn’t wait to come back later. He didn’t remember saying anything like that as a kid.
“Can I bring one of my birthday cards to give someone?” She asked, a reflection of his own eyes twinkling back at him. “Of course sweetheart.” He said, kissing her forehead. Bucky didn’t have many weaknesses, but his baby girl was his kryptonite. After a long life of being a hardened man his little girl turned him into a sweet dad. Something he never thought would happen but it did. “I’m so excited daddy! You can meet my sweetheart!” He paused at that looking up from tying her shoe.
“Your sweetheart?” He spiraled for a moment imagining the day she would inevitably bring some unsuitable boy home to him. Grimacing at the thought he watched as she broke out into giggles. “Mhm! My sweetheart is my teacher. She has a sweet heart so she is my sweetheart.” She explained. A little weight lifted off his shoulders. He wouldn’t have to intimidate a first grade boy anymore. “Really?” He smirked, tying the knot. She stood up and nodded profusely. It always amused him to hear her pick up on his lingo. Sweetheart happened to be one of them, and he wondered about the inevitably old woman who just swooned over his little girl's affection. “Yeah! She wears pretty dresses and she has pretty eyes.” She said, grabbing his hand.
“Can’t wait to meet her sweety.”
Arriving at the school Elaine was practically jumping out of her carseat in excitement. He envied her energy. Pushing his sunglasses up on his head he opened her door and she hopped out. “I want to show you everything!” She said, grabbing his hand. Nodding he went ahead and picked her up, her arm wrapping around his neck. “I want to see it all.” He said.
Stepping inside he was met with cool air and colorful walls. The smell was that distinct elementary school smell. Sort of like crayons and pencil shavings. She begged for him to put her down and he did. Holding his hand tightly she led him around the school and he thoroughly enjoyed listening to her give a description of everything he saw.
“That's my art class. I made a picture of school in there.”
“This is the bathroom. I only have to go sometimes.”
“This is the door to the playground.”
The unnecessary introduction of everything in sight just made him laugh. She was thorough, just like him. Walking past a conference room he heard some people talking but didn’t bother to look in. “Hey Elaine!” A voice called out. Elaine spun around and waved. The woman smiled and looked up at him. “You must be dad.” She said, but there was a hint of something in her voice. Something rather flirtatious. Nodding, he decided to ignore it, shaking her hand. “I’m Mrs.Florence. I’m the principal.” She said, adding a wink to her introduction.
This wasn’t an odd occurrence. Women in failing marriages were drawn to him like a magnet, and he just wasn’t sure why. Looking at the ring on her hand he nodded. “James. Nice to meet you.” He said, clearly wanting to end this interaction. Feigning shyness, some of her blonde hair fell into her face and she bit her lip.
“Daddy, I want to go to my teacher’s class!”
Thank god for Elaine.
Giving an uncomfortable wave he let himself be pulled away by Elaine, watching the defeated look crawl onto her features. Going down the steps he had to walk slowly beside her, smiling at the concentration on her face. She fell on the steps once and was petrified of them for a while. Now she took her time, one foot at a time on each step. “Good job being safe sweety.” He said. Once she reached the landing she thanked him, and before he could say anything else she took off running. A little shocked at her behavior he was running right behind her. “Elaine!” He called out. She just giggled running towards an open classroom door. Getting closer and closer she ran inside disappearing around the corner.
“Sweetheart sweetheart sweetheart!”
“Okay okay! Hey Elaine.”
Stepping inside he took a breath looking around the room. The walls were painted with various shapes and colors complementing the rug that was decorated in letters and numbers. Turning his head he spotted Elaine all but tackling her teacher. “Daddy she’s my sweetheart!” His eyes dragged up from her, to you.
He almost audibly gasped. You certainly weren’t the image he pictured in his mind. Internally he imagined a woman with grey hair and glasses perched on her nose. Instead he was met with a beautiful young woman. Beautiful felt like an understatement. His eyes lingered on your face tracing the shape of your lips as if to commit them to memory. Your smile reached your eyes as you looked down at his little girl. The soft edge of your jaw, the column of your throat, and your exposed collarbones called out to an absolutely primal part of him. The dress you wore stopped right below your knees, exposing just enough of your legs to make a man wonder. It was thin – not obscenely so – and just loose enough he couldn’t quite get a perfect view of those curves. Once you acknowledged him a soft smile crept onto your face. “Nice to meet you, Mister Barnes.” Of course your voice was smooth like silk. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” You said, Elaine just giggled dancing around you happily.
He didn’t even flinch when you called him Mister Barnes. Usually he would frown and insist that it made him feel too old. “You must be this sweetheart I’ve heard so much about.” He said as suave at possible. Clearly it worked because you just remained as bashful as ever, and he just loved the feeling of that power. Nervously you laughed, “Yeah. I’ve told her to call me by my name during class but she prefers the nickname.”
Stepping forward he put his hand out and you took it hesitantly. The skin of your hand was soft, and he just knew the rest of you had to be just as soft. “James, but please – call me Bucky.” He smiled. Smiling, you introduced yourself. Your hand left his but the warmth lingered. A kid came running up to you holding some stuff in his hands and you excused yourself attending to him happily. Getting on your knees you were at eye level with him and Bucky was overwhelming himself with different scenarios.
You looked cute down there.
He thought you'd looked better with his dick i-
“Daddy, Can I invite her to my birthday? Please.” Elaine pleaded, ripping him from his thoughts. Looking back at you he nodded to his daughter. If you came to Elaine's birthday then he'd have a gift of his own. Of course – like the sweet girl you were – you agreed, making his daughter so happy she was squealing. The excitement died down and Elaine was distracted again playing with the other kids. He wanted your attention again, and in that bit of selfishness he ended up signing up for things he had no desire to do.
“Are you sure?” You laughed giving him a look. Shrugging he signed his name on the line. Apparently you were alluring enough to make him sign up to help pass out programs at a school play. “I’m only asking because you’re the only dad that has signed up for anything.” You said. Glancing at the list he saw the plethora of undoubtedly mom names and sighed. “What will you be doing?” He asked, just curious. Looking confused for a moment you pointed to two things. The play programs and face paint for the fall festival. Signing his name right next to yours he sat the clipboard back on your desk. “If a sweet girl like you is around, count me in doll.” He winked, watching the way your eyes darted around nervously at his words. If a little complimenting got you like this he could only imagine what you’d do underneath him.
James, this is an open house at an elementary school.
Common sense kicked in, and common sense sounded a lot like his mother. Things were winding down, and the PTA moms flooded the room chasing their respective children around. “Hell of a crowd.” He said in a low voice. You hummed in response watching them all. “Some of the most insane women you will ever encounter. I’m sure you’ve dealt with them plenty.” You said a little exasperated. Tilting his head he wondered what you meant by that. You seemed to catch on. “I mean, you’re good looking. They prey on that sort of thing. Just… vicious.” You stopped swallowing hard. Your anxious disposition and admission made him smile. Just to calm your nerves he nudged you softly, “You should’ve seen Florence up there. Nearly jumped on me. Thank god for little Elaine, she saved me.” You gave him a sympathetic look and laughed.
Everything about you was far too cute, and the longer he stood next to you the more dangerous his thoughts became. “Can I have animal crackers for dinner?” Elaine tugged on his hand, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Smiling, he leaned down to pick her up. “Hm. Maybe not for dinner but we can work them in.” He said. Nodding she looked over at you, “You have to come to my birthday sweetheart.” You just grinned and nodded. “I wouldn’t miss it. Don’t worry.” You said sticking your pinky out. Elaine giggled, reaching out and locking them together.
“The address is somewhere on the card. We’ll be looking forward to seeing you.” He said reaching out and putting his hand on your shoulder. Your skin was warm against his hand, and he just wished it didn’t end here. “Bye Elaine. Bye Bucky.” You said as they parted. Your voice replayed in his mind as he walked down the hall.
Apologies for any mistakes! I've read over it a few times and feel satisfied, but i'm sure some mistakes slipped through. Feedback is appreciated.
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•GQ Britain 2021•
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Pairing: demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Warnings: smut/explicit sexual content (18+ only), explicit language, dark themes, noncon/dubcon, somnophilia (kind of), mentions of abuse, oral sex (f recieving), edging, orgasm denial, choking, unprotected sex (honestly a whole bunch of smut. You have been warned), horror/scary themes
A/N: This is my submission for the Spooktacular Smutfest Writing Challenge by the lovely @boxofbonesfic. This is my first time writing horror and it was definitely a challenge. This has inspired a series of demon one shots that I will be posting soon!
Prompt: “Are you scared?” “Yes.” “Good, you should be.”
You entered the run down motel and quickly made way to the front desk. It was a small town so you figured this was the best place to settle down for the night.
“Can I get your cheapest room please?” You asked the demure middle aged woman seated at the front desk. She was watching you closely as you shook and fidgeted, tapping your hand against the desk. You were always fidgeting. Your hands, legs and feet would more often than not shake or move to release some of the tension and anxiety you felt trapped inside your body. It was a nervous tick, you weren’t sure when it had developed but it seemed the uncontrollable movement gave you relief.
“All of our regular rooms are filled up, Hun. Our only available room is the honeymoon suite.”
You heard the door behind you open and you quickly turned around, tightening your grip around the strap of the small duffle bag wrapped around your shoulder. Your tense shoulders relaxed when you realized it was only a couple of teenagers.
“That’s it?” You turned back around to face her.
“It’s Halloween night, hun. You clearly aren’t from around here.” She gave a short chuckle. She was right.
You had taken the bus, switching buses and changing directions every so often so that you hopefully wouldn’t be tracked. Traveling for hours, you had come across this small little town, it was as good a place as any to hunker down for the night.
“It’s a historic town. Lots of tourists and even locals believe the town has haunted attractions. Legend has it this very hotel is haunted. Halloween is our busiest night. People love the idea of staying somewhere scary.” She shrugged.
“I just need a room.” You shook your head, “I don’t care about all that haunted nonsense. How much more is the honeymoon suite?”
“It’s $50 more.”
You bit your lip nervously, shaking your head. You didn’t have a lot of money and getting the nicer room would take a significant chunk of the cash. You needed to be wise on how to spend what little you had. You weren’t sure when you would be safe and able to settle down.
“Please… I can’t afford that.” You begged her. Her eyes scanned over your disheveled form. It was obvious you were on edge. Your eyes kept darting to the door as if you expected someone to walk in at any moment. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you were trying to make yourself small, to hold yourself together as best you could. You could see the pity in her eyes as your frantic behavior seemed to click.
“Do you need help? Is someone after you?” She leaned in and quietly whispered.
“I just need a place to stay. Please. I can afford the regular rate.” You pleaded with her, glancing over your shoulder once more to look at the door before slipping a small wad of bills in her direction. She silently nodded, giving you the key to your room. You thanked her profusely before rushing to the elevator with your duffle bag still swung over your shoulder.
The old style elevator was surrounded by swirling and intricate wrought iron bars that made you question how long the motel had been there. You had never seen an antique elevator. You wondered how safe it could be. As if hearing your unspoken thoughts, the elevator jolted erratically as it began moving. It was slow and every floor it passed had it shaking and groaning. The noises it made did little to help your nerves.
You were happy when it finally settled on your floor. Stepping out into the hallway, you noticed the decor was exactly what would be expected of an old hotel. The carpet and wallpaper were outdated and grimy, no doubt from years without a good cleaning, but you didn’t care. It was a cheap place to sleep. A bed was a bed, afterall. You were too tired and stressed to complain, all you wanted was a place to rest for the night.
As you entered the room, a cooling shiver ran down your spine. It was probably just a draft, it was an older hotel, you thought.
The honeymoon suite was fairly big, with a large king size bed in the middle of the room. There was a small sitting area in the corner with a table that held an old style lamp and telephone. You threw your bag in one of the chairs before plopping yourself in the other.
You had arrived at the old and desolate inn with only the small duffel bag of personal items and the clothes on your back. Within the bag held what few articles of clothing you could pack and some cash that you had been saving up for over a year.
The only other personal effect you had was a small photograph that you had folded up in your back pocket. Pulling it from your pocket, you held the crinkled and worn photograph up to your face, looking at the people in the photo. The way the young couple smiled in the photo was such a stark contrast to their lives now. Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at your husband's face. How did it all go so wrong?
The photo of you two was taken 2 years ago on your honeymoon. You had been so immensely happy and naively in love back then. It wasn’t until a year later that things took a turn for the worse.
You wished that the first time he slapped you across the face you had run, but you had nowhere to go. You had moved away from all your family and friends to be with your husband. It was naive of you to leave everything behind to start a family, but you had. You hadn’t spoken to your family in years, cutting them all off to be with him. He was all you had.
Each fight you had ended with more bruises littered across your skin. But every time he would apologize profusely. He would say the sweetest of words until ultimately you forgave him. You always forgave him.
It wasn’t until you had landed in the hospital with a broken wrist that the realization hit you. You had to leave. You couldn’t keep playing this game until he hurt you again. It was only a matter of time before he eventually killed you.
You saved what little cash you could from your grocery trips. He was in control of the finances but a few dollars here and there didn’t raise any alarms. As soon as you had enough saved to leave, you ran. But you knew he would come after you, he wouldn’t just let you leave.
A stray tear fell onto the photograph. You wiped the tear away, looking at the happy couple one last time before tossing the photo on the table. It didn’t matter now. That happy couple didn’t exist anymore.
The lamp on the table began to flicker and you couldn’t help but remember the words of the woman at the front desk. Haunted, she had said. Outstretching your arm you lightly tapped the lamp, jostling it until it ceased flickering, giving off a steady stream of light. The hotel was not haunted, just cheap and in need of new bulbs.
Deciding you needed to get some sleep in order to leave as early as you could in the morning, you shut off the lamp. The moonlight through the window was the only thing illuminating the room as you crawled into the oversized bed. It felt strange to have such a large bed to yourself after years of sharing one. Your heart ached as you thought about all the nights you would likely spend alone now. Despite how scary that thought was, it was also freeing. The soft sounds of the night lulled you to sleep, eager to continue your journey to freedom in the morning.
As you slowly drifted into consciousness a feeling of dread overwhelmed you. Unable to move, your chest tightened. Your chest was heavy as if a bookcase had fallen on you, crushing you beneath it. There was an eerie presence in the room that you couldn’t quite place.
The overwhelming pressure on your chest shifted. You felt as if you were suffocating and you were unable to move. Your eyes fluttered as fear coursed through you, charcoal black eyes met yours as you stared at the thing laying on top of you. It’s features looked human, almost like a man, but there was a dark essence surrounding him.
You have experienced this sensation before, only a few times in the past, but it was never pleasant. Sleep paralysis. Featuring what most people referred to as a sleep paralysis demon. However, you had never had such a vividly real demon before. It almost looked real, almost life-like.
Your eyes scanned over the large frame that caged you onto the bed. You tried to get a good look at the being but could only see so much with just the moonlight. His looming black eyes were surrounded by darkness, as if he was wearing makeup. Black smoke radiated off him in curling tendrils that tried to consume you. The pale dead look of his skin was deceiving, as you could feel the burning heat his body was emitting. However, despite the burn of his grip you strangely felt ice cold.
Every fibre of your being screamed at you to run. Move. Fight. Anything! But your brain and body were not in sync. You willed your body to move but you’re paralyzed, stuck in a cold dark limbo as the thing on top of you watches.
Fear coursed through your veins, as his fiery warm fingers danced over your skin until its smokey fingers curled around your throat like a necklace. You could feel the smoke lightly choking you, but his hands were merely hovering. His actual fingers were not making contact with your flesh. His long dark strands of hair brushed against your face. He was so close you could feel his breath against your lips.
Time stood still as he brought his other hand up to your face, gently caressing a finger over your lips. This touch, however, wasn’t from the smoke surrounding him. This was his real touch. You gasped at the intimate sensation, all of the hairs on your body standing on end. It was strange how such a seemingly simple touch felt so intense and meaningful.
He trailed his finger lightly down your body, gently caressing the curve of your breasts before landing at the apex of your sex. You couldn’t contain the gasp that escaped your lips as his hand slithered under your clothing and between your legs. His large fingers stroked your folds causing an involuntary shiver to run through you.
His fingers emit the same cold and burning sensation to your core as they did the rest of your body. When he pressed gently against your clit you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips. The demon’s eyes grew darker as it rubbed your most sensitive spot in small tight circles.
You attempted to close your eyes but weren’t even afforded that luxury. You were forced to look into the monster's eyes as your climax began to form. His grip on your throat grew tighter, tinges of black spotting your vision. Your body shook. You were so close but just as you were about to fall over the edge into bliss, the stimulation stopped. A weak cry escaped your lips as your orgasm was viciously ripped away from you at the last second.
Just as your heart rate slowed down, your body stepping back from the ledge of pleasure, his fingers returned to their slow tortuous pace on your throbbing bud. All too quickly, your pleasure builds up again. Your orgasm is close from being denied previously. But once more, you are not allowed your release.
This teasing continued, causing you both pain and pleasure as your core fluttered, clenching around nothing as you were desperate to finish. He was relentless in his ministrations, bringing you right to the edge multiple times before harshly pulling you back. His touch was exploratory, as if trying to learn your body. You didn’t know how many times you had been on the brink of orgasm before you noticed the tears dripping down your cheeks.
He was playing you like a fine tuned piano and you couldn’t help the shame you felt. You were having a wet dream about a demon and clearly you were enjoying it. You were so clearly aroused, having not known such intense pleasure before.
After what felt like hours, you can feel the twitch in your fingertips as your brain slowly gained control over your body. Slowly, his hand on your sex was removed. The pressure on your chest lifted and the fingers that were wrapped around your neck disappeared. You watched warily as the tall, muscular man stood up and walked toward the end of your bed. His eyes never left yours. A shiver ran down your spine at the smirk that settled on his pink lips. You squeezed your eyes shut. You willed the paralysis to cease and the demon to disappear. When you finally opened your eyes the room was empty. The demon was gone and your body was able to move again.
Sitting up you sputtered, sucking in fast and greedy breaths as if you had been holding your breath the entire time. As you gulped in the oxygen your emotions crashed down on you. Placing your hand on your chest, all of your emotions felt amplified. The fear, panic, arousal, and confusion all bursting at the seams of your heart. Your heartbeat was still erratic. Your eyes scanned over the room as the pressure in your chest started to dissipate. The room was empty, no trace of the man or demon you had laying on top of you moments ago. Your hands ran over your body in search of anything amiss but everything felt normal, except the ache between your legs. You delved your fingers into your panties, finding exactly what you had expected. You were wet.
Frustrated, you placed your head in your hands feeling defeated. You had never had such a vivid sleep paralysis experience before. Granted, it hadn’t happened to you often, but the prior times felt more distant, more dream-like. This time had felt real. You could still smell his breath and feel his grip around your throat. You had felt the pleasure he was forcing onto you, only to be ripped away at the last second.
You weren’t completely sure what was real and what was not. Sleep paralysis had always been trippy but you had never had a sexual episode. This event was different from any previous ones. The only thing that made sense was it was your brain playing tricks on you. It must have been all the stress and anxiety you felt manifesting into your subconscious.
You were clearly in over your head leaving your abusive husband and the stress was getting to you. Deciding a hot shower might dissolve your fear, you sauntered into the connecting bathroom. The bathroom looked about as good as you could expect from a cheap hotel in the middle of nowhere.
It had a decently sized shower with a plain white curtain hanging from the rod, an old discolored toilet in the corner, and a double sink with a large mirror placed in front of it. The housekeeping had placed scratchy looking white towels and a robe folded on the sink counter, along with a couple of small bottles of shampoo and a generic bar of soap.
You slowly stripped your clothes from your body, watching yourself in the mirror. The woman looking back at you looked nothing like the woman you had been a few years ago. Your eyes were dull and had deep set dark circles under them. Your hair was thinner and your skin was crepey and lifeless.
The biggest difference was the bruises that littered your skin. You ran your fingers over your wrist, examining the dark purple bruise. You flinched when you pressed too hard, the bones had set but the skin was still sore to the touch.
A cold breeze fluttered across your naked body making you shiver. You quickly covered your breasts. You felt as though someone was watching you. You turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm. Once the temperature was to your liking you hopped in. The steam and hot water helped soothe the aches and pains that were scattered across your body. It was soothing for your soul too. The anxiety and fear from your overactive subconscious quickly dissolved, melting down the drain.
You lathered the shampoo into your hair, closing your eyes as you did so. Behind your eyelids, you saw a flicker of movement, the lighting changing. You quickly opened your eyes. The shampoo stung as it ran into your half opened eyes. Your vision was blurry as you looked around frantically. A tall dark figure flickered in the corner of vision and for a moment you could have sworn it was the same figure that had held you down on the hotel bed. You frantically blinked, rubbed your eyes to remove the shampoo but as soon as your vision cleared the shadowy figure disappeared.
You had a sinking feeling in your gut. You weren’t crazy, you had seen something. It sounded insane but something was wrong. You could feel something wasn’t right.
The cold air nipped at your skin as you quickly got out of the shower, throwing on the robe. You haphazardly tie the robe around your waist as a horrid squeaking sound fills your ears. The noise, only created from the sound of fingers writing on a mirror. You felt sick to your stomach as you watched words start to form on the foggy mirror. Something was writing a message. You were frozen in fear as the single word was written. Mine.
That was all it took to have you bolting out of the bathroom, You almost slipped on the wet tile floor before slamming the door behind you. You needed to get out of here, fast. You didn’t bother changing out of the robe, you needed to get the hell out of this hotel. You grabbed your bag, frantically throwing your items into it before running into the hallway.
You weren’t sure what you were running from, but you felt it. You felt it’s presence and you knew deep down that something was following you. The walls felt as if they were closing in making you feel claustrophobic. You could see the shadows dancing along the walls, confirming your suspicions. Someone or something was after you.
The darkness nipped at your heels, taunting you as you ran. Cursing to yourself as you tripped over your own feet, your robe opening slightly. You didn’t have time to readjust, you needed to get out of here.
Once you arrived at the elevator you pushed the button repeatedly, praying for it to hurry up. The ding sounded and you felt relief when the doors closed behind you. As it began its descent toward the lobby, you leaned against the metal bars with a heavy sigh. Your heart rate begins to slow down, your breathing evening out.
Your relief was short lived as the elevator shook before coming to an abrupt stop. You stumbled, getting thrown against the wall at the sudden and forceful movement, your fear quickly returning. Your blood turned to ice as black smoke started pouring into the elevator. The dark smoke was thick in the air, so thick you could hardly see. But you saw the large smoky figure appear stalking toward you.
You backed into the corner, placing your hands out in front of you to shield yourself. You squeezed your eyes shut as tears formed, not wanting to see the monster in front of you. You felt the heat radiating off it’s body as it stopped right in front of you.
You blindly started swinging your hands attempting to inflict some damage on the being. Your wrists burned as he grabbed them to stop your assault. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as sobs racked your body. You tried pulling your wrists away, cowering further into the corner of the elevator.
“Look at me.” A deep voice spoke. Its voice was surprisingly soft, smooth like butter. You shook your head, squeezing your eyes even tighter in fear.
“Open your eyes, Doll.” It lowly growled. You hated to admit it, you weren’t sure if it was fear but something about its tone compelled you to comply.
You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away your tears to stare at the monster before you. Only it wasn’t a monster, well it was, but it was also a man. The smoke surrounded him, radiating off his body. Those pitch black demonic eyes stared into your soul, just as they had earlier while tormenting you on your bed. Your mouth gaped as you took in his chiseled features. His muscular figure towered over you, making you feel small.
He leaned forward nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck before inhaling your scent.
“Are you scared?” He teased, nipping your ear.
“Yes.” You whispered.
“Good. You should be.” He chuckled, backing away with a smirk on his lips.
Before you can protest he tore at your robe until you were fully naked in front of him. You sharply inhaled when he brushes his fiery fingers over the bruises on display.
You wanted to fight back, to stop him from touching your body. But you felt paralyzed, just as you did earlier. Except this time, you aren’t sure if it’s real or just from fear. He dropped to his knees, his face now level with your hips. He lifted you leg up over his shoulder, lifting your rob and leaving your pussy on display. Your body finally decided to cooperate but only enough for you to grip the metal bars of the elevator. You held on desperately as he stared at your core with lust.
He delved his face into your aching heat and began to lick stripes up and down your folds. A porn worthy moan escaped you when his lips wrapped around you clit. The warmth of his lips on your most sensitive area had you arching your back, pushing yourself closer to him.
You were a mess as he moved lower, pushing his tongue into your hole. You preened under his touch, his hands burning into your hip and thigh as he held you up. He fucked you with his tongue, the familiar ember beginning to grow.
You wished you weren’t turned on. You wanted so badly to scream, to push him off of you. But you hadn’t realized how desperately horny you were until now. You knew why, but you didn’t want to admit it. Your earlier nightmare, hadn’t been a cut and dry case of sleep paralysis. It had been real.
Knowing you were close, he grabbed your other leg lifting it over his other shoulder. You were now completely hoisted up with his hands on your hips. Your knuckles turned white from your tightening grip as he returned his attention back to your bud. You were so close. You could feel the waves of pleasure rolling off of you and it was only a matter of time before you came.
The sick twisted man between your legs had decided to resume his previous game with you. He pulled his tongue away just as you were about to find release. You whined, grinding your hips to try and resume some friction. He chuckled at your neediness, causing you to feel the vibrations.
“Do you want to orgasm, Doll?” He looked up at you. His face was glistening with your arousal, you could feel your cheeks redden with embarrassment. You refused to answer him, too prideful to admit what you wanted. Needed.
If you had thought he was torturing you before, you were sorely mistaken. Your refusal only spurred him on further. He sucked and nipped at your overstimulated clit until you were a blubbering mess in his arms. You could barely form a coherent thought when he denied you again.
“Need you to say yes, doll” He mumbled against your thigh.
You couldn’t take it anymore. You didn’t care if it was wrong. You didn’t care that you were being sexually tormented by a demon in the elevator of some god forsaken hotel. You hadn’t been touched like this in months. And after being brought to the edge multiple times, your resolve had been worn.
“Please…” You began.
“Bucky” He said with a sinister grin.
“Please Bucky.” You begged, finally giving in.
“That’s all I needed to hear.” He growled, pulling you down to the floor with him.
You weren’t sure if you were just delirious and delusional at this point, but he was undressed and on top of your naked form in an instant. His large body wedged in between your legs as he dipped his head to your neck trailing kisses down to your breasts. His hands were all over you, leaving your skin on fire wherever he touched.
You felt his hard member against your inner thigh and you could tell he was huge. He rubbed himself against your folds gathering your slick. You had no time to second guess your decision, as he roughly thrust into you. He had done very little to prepare you for his large size, and you cried out at the intrusion. It felt as if he had ripped you open.
He gave you no time to adjust as he set a brutal pace. His hands roamed over your breast, pinching and tugging on your nipples. His lips left love bites all over your neck and chest, adding more purple bruises to your body. It was as if he was claiming, replacing the evidence of pain from your ex with evidence of his desire for you. All you could focus on was the sound of skin slapping and his occasional grunts.
Your brain was going haywire, your mind working overtime to decipher pain from pleasure. You felt heat everywhere he touched. The way his cock stroked you left your insides on fire. It was as if you were burning in hell. When he brought one hand down to circle your clit, you mewled. You dragged your nails down his back, trying to ground yourself as your orgasm hit. You saw stars as you finally reached your high.
“Fuck.” He muttered, picking up his pace. If he was close, he didn’t show it. Instead, he continued his pressure on your abused clit. You didn’t know if you could handle anymore sensation. But when he lifted one of your legs up over his shoulder, he reached a depth inside you that you didn’t think was possible. The pressure was intense, you thought you might faint.
You threw your head back with a scream. Your second orgasm was more intense than your first as it rolled over your body. You thighs were shaking as you felt his pace grow sloppy. Your core clenched around him as he spilled inside of you, milking all of his spend. His warm seed searing against your insides.
“You’re mine now, doll.” He chuckled darkly, keeping you pinned underneath him.
You screamed as the elevator began to free fall. You watched in horror as the dial telling you what floor you were on kept dropping until you passed the lobby, but you continued to fall into darkness. Your entire body was burning. You felt as if you had been set on fire, only this time, it wasn’t his touch. It was the air. In fact, the only thing that satiated and cooled the intense burning was Bucky. You clung onto him desperately. In that moment you realized, you belonged to him now.
Shout outs: @mhysa-leesi @plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms @christowhore
Tags: @blithecapricorn @marvelfansworld @ashpeace888@violetmoon74 @eralen @stupendouslovegardener @jevans2@sweetdreams25 @notafknbadger
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What A Shame
I LOVED writing this one it is hot and fast. ;) Enjoy
Bucky has a shitty girlfriend and he soon realizes he should be with you instead.
Word Count: 1554
"Bucky, you gotta move on from her. She treats you like garbage, and I get that part of you thinks that's what you deserve, but it isn't. You know if I am honest, Y/N would -"
"STOP. I can not think of her that way, nor do I want to. And thank you for the advice, but Alice said she had something to say, so I will hear her out. I am not saying I am going to forgive her; I am saying that I would hear her out and that if her apology is sincere, I would be willing to try and work on things." Bucky said, cutting Sam off in the process.
"Ohh are you guys talking about Buck's POS ex-girlfriend?", Y/N asked walking up behind them with the key to the door they were all now standing in front of. She threw the key to Sam, and he unlocked the door.
"I am going to stop telling you two anything about my personal life," Bucky grumbled as he kicked the door in and fired shots into the room. They were raiding another enemy bunker with some special tech that needed to be recovered or destroyed. They were a well-oiled machine at this point. As soon as they breached and secured the room, they called for backup. Their job was done now, and it was time for them to go back home.
2 Days Later
"My my my Mr.Barnes, you do clean up well.", Y/N said, playful taking in the now cleaned-up Bucky standing in the kitchen.
Sam let out a low whistle, "I know what you are trying to do and it ain't gonna work on her."
"Wait, What are you trying to do?" Y/N questioned.
"Nothing, at all. Sam is just being stupid."
"Nah, he is trying to make sure that if he has to reject her, he looks good - make her feel bad about cheating..."
"Alleged cheating." Bucky interrupted.
"Fine..alleged cheating. But he wants to also make sure he turns her on if he decides to forgive her." Sam finished.
"OHHHHH makes sense." Y/N snickered, trying to play along.
Bucky sighed and turned. He had a date, no, not date, a meeting to get to, and he wanted to be tastefully late, not rudely late. He was almost out the door when Y/N ran up and said, "Hey Buck, by the way, the outfit works." Then closed and locked the door.
"Why you gotta play with the man like that?" Sam asked, chuckling under his breath. Y/N didn't say anything. She just shrugged her shoulders and walked off to the living room.
She and Sam were in the middle of watching The Fast and The Furious when the door burst open, and Bucky stomped in.
"You're back soon," Y/N said from her spot in the recliner. She had put on a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt once Bucky had left, not expecting to see him until tomorrow morning.
Sam had turned over his shoulder to look at Bucky, "What happened?"
"I ... I guess I will never understand the thinking of a woman," Bucky said with finality and bitterness.
Sam sighed, "She didn't apologize..."
"Nope, not even once. Tried to say it was because I was gone so much," he shot with a dry humorless laugh. Y/N started to stand up and walk toward the kitchen counter, making sure to pull up the oversized shirt so Bucky could see the curve of her ass as she walked. He had always told himself that there could never be anything between them because Y/N was younger, well younger than he was. She was bright and carefree, both things Bucky tended not to be. But he couldn't lie and say after what Sam had said and the comment she had made earlier, he was starting to consider it. His cock twitched in his pants as her hips swayed in the leggings.
"What a shame, Buck. What a shame. Could've been with me this whole time instead of what's her fucking name," Y/N said, turning and hopping up on the counter, only successfully hiding the smirk she had and not the playfully sinful look on her eyes.
Buckys heart studdered and halted, "With you?"
Sam smirked to himself, knowing that Bucky couldn't ignore it now. Sam had seen it a while ago. They complimented each other slowly. Both of them had started to see it too. "Told ya."
"Get out now," Bucky snapped, stalking over to where Y/N sat on the counter, pushing into the space between her legs and getting in her face. "You really want this, Sunshine?" Although it mostly came out harsh as he wrapped his arms around her, there was a softness and genuine kindness behind his words.
"You're smart Barnes, I'm sure you can figure it out." Hearing his last name on her lips was all he needed. He lunged forward and captured her lips. His kiss was soft and gentle at first but soon gave way to hunger. Y/N wrapped her legs around Buckys waist and pulled him in even closer. She moaned into him when his hand tugged softly at her hair. She broke the kiss panting.
"God, you taste good, Sunshine," Bucky said, pulling Y/N back in. Her hands went to the hem of his shirt and slide her hands underneath. His skin was warm and soft in contrast to the hard muscles that moved along his abdomen. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. She tugged at the shirt haphazardly, and Bucky got the idea, pulling away and taking his shirt off. Y/N bit her lips at how incredibly turned on she was by the man in front of her. He had barely touched her, and she could already feel the wetness growing between her legs. Bucky was back to her in a moment, shoving his own hand up under her shirt. She gasped at the cool touch of metal to skin.
"Sunflower, if that's the reaction I get from just wrapping my arms around you - you're gonna be ruined by the end of this." He pushed her shirt all the way up and over her head. He growled when he looked down to find Y/N wasn't wearing a bra and was already bared for him. He palmed her breasts and started to kiss down her neck. One hand continued to palm her while the other went to play and twist her nipple. Y/N bit her lip in hopes of stifling the moan he had pulled out of her. Instead, Y/N slid her hands towards the button of his jeans, desperate to get her hands on him. She was able to get the button and fly of his jeans and immediately slid her finger into the space between his jeans and briefs and felt his hard cock. Bucky twitched in her hand and growled, "Careful, Sunshine, you are making it hard to be a gentleman."
"Maybe I don't want a gentleman," she said, running her hand down the length of his cock.
"Just remember, princess, you asked for it." Before Y/N knew what was happening, Bucky had pulled her hand from him, scooped her up, and put her on the floor. Then, he yanked her leggings off of her and pulled himself free of the confines of his briefs. Y/N, just starting to catch up to what had happened when Bucky jerked her up and placed her back down on the counter. Then, he moved back in between her legs and slide two of his metal finger into her. Y/N was glad that Bucky had his other arm wrapped around her. She almost fell backward at feeling him slip in and out of her.
"Oh my ...god...please..." Y/N begged.
"What, Sunshine? What do you want?"
"That's it, use your words. What exactly what you want?"
"You...... I want you in me...... Please...."
Bucky couldn't hold back any longer after hearing Y/N beg for him to be in her. He moved his hand to her hip and slid all the way into her. She was tight and warm and felt fucking fantastic. He pulled her up off the counter, and Y/N wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. Bucky pumped into her, and Y/N could immediately feel her orgasm building. He was hitting her just right, and it turned her on even more than he was able to do while holding her. Bucky could feel his own orgasm building and knew, by the way, she was tightening around him, Y/N wasn't far behind.
"That's it, Sunshine, you like when I fuck you rough. Make you mine."
Y/N couldn't respond. She was cumming hard as Bucky continued to fuck her through it. She had never felt so good in her life.
"Sunshine. Answer me, who is fucking you good?"
"You are James. You are." Bucky's hips stuttered, and his eyes flew open wide. He had expected her to call him by his first name, but he loved the sound of it on her lips. A few more thurst, and Bucky was cumming as well.
They stayed there for a moment, both coming down from their highs. Bucky placed a soft kiss on Y/N's forehead and whisper, "Come on, Sunshine. Let's get you cleaned up for round two."
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someone has a crush || b. barnes
summary: peter finally turns twenty-one and is hell-bent on taking you out for a drink. bucky thinks his little crush is cute, but is convinced peter could never handle a woman like you.
pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader & a little peter parker x female!reader
warning: smut, minors DNI, 18+, not a ton of smut just a sprinkle, oral female receiving
an: i’ve had this idea for awhile and i figured it would be a good one off story, hope y’all enjoy!! not really edited!
“Tony really went all out, huh?”
Your eyes weren’t sure what to focus on first. The front of the hotel was littered with red and black balloons, streamers, and any other type of decoration you could think of. Across a couple of the front windows was a huge banner with Peter’s face, and in large silver script was ‘Happy 21st Birthday, Peter!’ You laughed at Tony’s ‘too much gene.” Clearly, Tony didn’t want Peter to forget anything about tonight, no matter how drunk he got.
Pepper messaged you earlier today asking if you could come an hour and a half earlier to help with some finishing touches, and of course, you said yes. After quickly collecting your belongings out of your car, your phone, your party clothes you would change into closer to party time, and another helium tank she asked for. As you walked into the building, you noticed the same intensity of decorations seeped into the lobby, and then further into the large ballroom. And if you thought the decorations outside were over the top, they were nothing compared to the ones inside.
“You’re a lifesaver!” Pepper exclaimed, noticing your arrival. She brought you in for a hug, before grabbing the helium tank out from under your arm. “I’m glad I could help, what can I do next?” You asked her, placing your things on a barstool. “Natasha is struggling with that balloon arch, could you please help her?” Pepper pointed toward the center of the room.
There was a black dance floor in the middle of the ballroom, and in the middle of that dance floor was currently Nat. She was surrounded by red and black balloons, desperately trying to attach them to a tall wire shaped like an arch. “I’m on it.” You laughed, reassuring Pepper.
“Need some help, Nat?” The question was asked sarcastically, you could see the frustration clearly on her face. “I swear to god I never want to see another balloon again in my life.” She huffed, another balloon falling off the arch. “It can’t be that hard.” You insisted, taking a seat next to her. Within fifteen minutes, you were already eating your words. Fuck balloon arches.
“Finally.” You said, out of breath. In the last hour, you blew up over seventy-five balloons. But that didn’t matter, the arch was done and anchored to the wall. It wasn’t going anywhere, and you made sure of that. Natasha and you high-fived with both hands, some delusion laughter passing your lips.
“Do you wanna come up to my room and change?” She asked you, stretching her arms above her head. “That would be great, I need to shower, I broke a sweat doing that.” You chuckled, grabbing your things and following her out of the ballroom. The two of you had thirty-ish minutes before the party started, but Natasha and you had a reputation of being fashionably late when possible. Except, for Pepper’s sanity, you would be early today.
As you walked out of the bathroom, Natasha was sitting in front of the mirror applying a layer of makeup. She finished her waterline before looking at you, “Oh, you look damn good.” You loved when she complimented you. It gave you a swell in confidence, because if she thought you looked good, you looked amazing. Your dress was simple, thin straps on your shoulders, wrapped around your body pretty tight, and the bottom hem was asymmetrical.
On the invitation, Tony asked everyone to wear red and/or black. Natasha’s dress was a similar shade of red, but it lacked the straps and was comparable to a long tube top, resting just above her knee. You fluffed your hair and added another layer of lip gloss, waiting for Nat to finish getting ready. Peeking out the window, you saw the parking lot was nearly full. “I’m ready.” Nat said from behind you.
“God, you are hot as shit.” You complimented her, making her blush. “And we wonder why people think we’re together.” She laughed, grabbing her clutch off her bed. As the two of you walked into the hallway, you could hear some muffled music playing, getting louder as you walked closer to the ballroom. People were piling through the main set of doors, and you two followed suit.
“There you guys are!” Pepper sighed with relief as you and Nat walked back into the ballroom. “How does everything look? Should I make any last minute changes? Peter will be here in ten minutes.” Her words were like bullets, firing one after another, unbelievably fast. You grabbed both of her shoulders, “Pep, everything looks wonderful. Peter is gonna love it.” You insisted. She visibly relaxed, her shoulders fell and she let out one long breath. “Now, let me buy you a drink.” Steering her towards the bar.
You bought Pepper, Natasha, and yourself a shot, chasing it with some lime. “Do you feel better now?”
You asked Pepper, stacking all the emptied glasses together. She nodded, pulling out her phone. “Okay, Peter will be here in four minutes. I’m gonna go
meet Tony outside.” And she was gone before either of you could respond. You turned towards Nat, who was eyeing someone at the other end of the bar.
“Who is it now?” You asked, propping your head up next to hers, following her gaze. Your eyes landed on Steve, “Oh come on, Nat.” You rolled your eyes, nudging her with your shoulder. “What? He’s hot.” As if that justified her googly eyes. “You know what that means…” She said, breaking her gaze and looking back at you.
You raised your eyebrows in confusion, “...that means Bucky is here.” She nudged you this time, sending you a wink. “You’re delusional.” Scoffing at her, taking a sip of your beer. “I’m gonna go see him, do you wanna come?” She asked, picking up her clutch from the bar. “I’m good, I can smell the sexual tension from here.” She rolled her eyes at your joke, making you chuckle.
You weren’t alone for long, before someone joined you at the bar. “Speak of the devil.” Muttering loud enough for him to hear. “Talking about me, sweets?” Bucky asked, bringing a green beer bottle up to his lips. “In your dreams, soldier.” You chuckled a bit, rolling your eyes. There was a sudden flood of cheers in the room, eyes training towards the door. Peter walked in, Tony and Pepper standing behind him.
He was shocked, his face registering that emotion well. You watched his eyes dart around the room, shifting between the decorations and the mass of people. Speechless, mouth opening and closing, struggling to find the right words. Everyone began circling around him, giving him hugs, handshakes, and high-fives. His eyes left the crowd of people in front of him, like he was searching for something, or someone.
They landed on you, the corners of his mouth raising higher onto his cheeks, left hand coming up to wave. You smiled back brightly, meeting his wave. “Somebody’s got a crush on you.” Bucky cooed condescendingly. “Oh shut up, no he doesn’t.” You hit him in the chest, rolling your eyes again. You flagged down the bartender for a cocktail.
“You’re insane, if you don’t see that.” He scoffed, placing his empty beer bottle on the bar. Bucky was right, you knew Peter had a crush on you. But you alway figured it was something that would pass. But you were on six years and counting. You figured if you never acknowledged it, it would disappear eventually. “Shut it, Barnes.” Pushing him with your elbow.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were jealous.” You looked up at him through your eyelashes, stirring your cocktail with the small red straw, before placing it between your teeth. Bucky let out a shallow laugh, almost a snort. “Oh, no denial, huh?” Pushing more, placing a hand on his left arm. He immediately tensed, making you chuckle. You opened your mouth to say something, but you felt a hand press against your back.
“Hey, (Y/F/N)!” Peter exclaimed, glancing between you and Bucky, “Hello, Mr. Barnes.” His voice wasn’t as cheery, but he put a hand out for him to shake. Bucky did so with a big smile. “Peter, I told you to call me Bucky.” His metal arm grabbed at Peter’s shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. “Right.” Was all Peter said.
“Happy birthday, Pete!” You cheered, bringing him in for a tight hug. His other hand came to rest on the one already resting on your back. “God, finally, you’re 21.” You chucked, he was the last person in his friend group to reach legal drinking age. “I know it’s only taken 21 years.” He joked, “I actually feel like an adult now.” He admitted. Peter’s hand lingered as you two pulled away from the hug.
“Let me buy you a shot! You want one Buck?” Your attention turned towards him, he shook his head, gesturing towards his new beer. You never understood why Bucky drank, it was literally impossible for him to get drunk. “Two Melon Ball shots, please!” You called towards the bartender who gave you a thumbs up. “I’ll talk to you later, sweets.” Bucky cooed, sending you a wink. One exaggerated enough that Peter noticed.
Soon the shots appeared, and you thanked the bartender. Handed one to Peter, he removed his hand from the small of your back. “Ready?” You asked, bringing the small glass up to your lips. With Peter’s nod, you poured the liquor into your mouth. The vodka made your throat burn, and the melon taste made your lips pucker. Peter made a similar face as yours, making you laugh.
“God, that sucked.” He laughed, placing the glass beside yours. “Well, do you love it?” You asked him, gesturing towards the room. “Oh, it is definitely amazing.” His eyes bounced between all the people. “You should have seen Pepper earlier, I thought she was gonna burst a blood vessel or something.” You laughed, “And that fucking balloon arch was a nightmare.” Just the thought of it made you want to drink.
You took this time to take in Peter’s appearance. His hair was pushed back with a small amount of hair gel to help. His shirt was black, a quarter-button up, with no buttons done up. A pair of charcoal grey dress pants and a black dress shoes. He accessorized with a fancy watch on his left wrist. You couldn’t deny that he looked very good.
“So, now that I’m 21, are you gonna let me take you out for a drink?” The question made you tense up. Your head swirled, trying to come up with an answer. “Peter…” Was all you said before your voice trailed off. “I know you’re older now, but in my mind, you’re always gonna be that kid I met in his sophomore year of high school.” You tried to say it sweetly, not wanting to ruin his night or your friendship.
You could feel his arm snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him, “C’mon (Y/F/N), but I’m not a kid anymore, give me a chance.” He insisted, his grip tightening around you, causing you to place a hand on his chest. Peter was never good at hiding his crush on you, but he was throwing caution to the wind tonight. “Parker, you’ll always be a kid to me You know we can’t do this.” The words left your mouth, but you could feel your heart racing.
He looked away for a second, eyes scanning the crowd quickly. You felt his hand move further down your back, he was practically touching your ass. Slowly, he leaned in, lips right next to your ear. His voice was deeper than normal and in a whisper, “Then let me prove to you, I’m not.” The words sent shivers down your spine, and a small gasp fell past your lips. You could hear him chuckling.
“Peter, hey!“ A hand appeared on Peter’s shoulder. He reluctantly pulled away, rolling his eyes so that only you could see. Before turning toward the person, he branded his face with a smile. “Hey, Cap.” His voice went back to its normal octave. Steve stood beside Peter now, instead of behind him. His grip loosened on your waist, before pulling away completely. “Let me buy you a drink.”
Before Peter could protest, Steve was steering him away from you and towards the opposite side of the bar. You could now feel that your face was very warm, and your mind and body were fighting one another. But before you could think about it anymore, you were joined by a familiar face.
“Well, that was quite a show.” Bucky laughed, leaning against the bar in front of you. You avoided his gaze, trying to build up a facade once more. “So you were watching, huh?” You asked, abandoning the small red straw and drinking straight from the cocktail glass. “Yeah, it was cute.” He shrugged, an unimpressed look on his face. “Cute? Sure, if that’s the word you want to use.” You chuckled, your heartbeat back down to a normal level.
“Yeah, it’s cute he thinks he could handle a woman like you.” This statement peeked your interest highly. A laugh passed your lips, out of pure disbelief. “Oh, and you think you can?” You asked, testing the waters of this conversation. “Not a doubt in my mind, doll.” He knew that nickname made your head spin. He’s always had this effect on you, but you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the fiasco with Peter but you felt mischievous.
“Are you willing to prove it, Sergeant?” His whole body tensed at the nickname. Confidence swelled inside you, knowing you had the same effect on him. “Right here, right now, if you wanted.” Bucky confessed, metal hand coming to rest on your cheek. His thumb landed on your bottom lip, pulling it away from your top lip. You took the opportunity to swirl your tongue around the tip of his metal finger. The cool vibranium contrasted against the warmth of your mouth.
His eyes widened for a moment, before his lips turned into an evil smirk. “My hotel room is just d-I’m not that easy, Buck.” You chuckled, placing your hand on top of his metal one, and pulling it away from your face. Confusion registered on his face, “You gotta work for it, soldier.” And with that, you walked away, leaving him speechless. Your eyes wander around for Peter, you were about to use this leverage to your advantage.
Of course, you felt guilty for using Peter like this, but that was the last of your worries. You would make it up to him somehow. You saw Peter standing with Ned a couple feet away, no Captain in sight. “There you are, Peter.” Smiling, as you joined Peter, “Hey Ned.” You had met him around the same time you met Peter. The three of you chit-chatted for a while, and you bought both of them a drink. “Hey Ned, would you mind grabbing me a cupcake? My feet are killing me.” You asked him sweetly.
Peter shot him a look, one he didn’t want you to see, that basically screamed ‘leave.’ Ned took the hint, and rushed off. “Ya’know, I thought about that drink a little more…” Your voice trailed off, you had to speak a little louder than normal, due to the loud music but also to make sure Bucky could hear the conversation from a few stools away.
“Wait, really?” He sounded shocked, but his face read with excitement. You planted one of your hands on his bicep, creating a wind-shield wiper type movement with your thumb. And as if your touch was like a green-light, his right hand moved towards your hip, giving it a slight squeeze. He pulled you closer to him, the two of you chest to chest once more.
“What changed your mind?” He asked, slowly, but surely, moving his hand further towards your back, until he reached the very top of your ass. You hummed, pretending to play dumb, “Well, I just happened to notice how good twenty-one is looking on you already, and decided to give you a shot.” It seemed like as soon as the words left your mouth, Ned appeared with two cupcakes. “Thanks Ned!” You exclaimed, popped the entirety of the small cupcake into your mouth.
Your eyes wandered towards Bucky, but he was gone. Suddenly you felt stupid. That whole charade and he wasn’t even there. “Excuse me real quick.” You muttered towards the two boys, leaving them in confusion. Scanning the crowd, for couldn’t find the man anywhere, so you stepped out. As soon as the door fell closed behind you, there was a tight grip around your wrist, pulling you in the direction of the elevator. And before you knew it, you were being thrown onto a hotel bed, like you weighed nothing.
Bucky hovered above you, a hand on either side of your head, caging you between him and the bed. Your hands struggled to decide where to place themselves, eventually landing on the back of his neck, twirling the small hairs around one of your index fingers. His lips landed on your jawline, placing soft open-mouthed kisses along it. His stubble left a very minor scratchy feeling on the soft skin of your face.
You brought the lobe of his ear between your teeth, pulling at it slightly. Your tongue traced the shell of his ear, before pulling away slightly, and speaking softly into his ear. “We don’t have much time, Buck.” And with your words, it was like a flip. Any sweetness seeped out of his body, and his movements became more aggressive. He pulled away from you, causing your arms to fall onto the bed.
He moved quickly, his hands gripped your hips, his vibranium hand tighter than the other. Your dress was pulled up and bunched up around your waist. His fingers quickly ripped your panties down to your ankles, before pulling them off completely and placing them on the bed next to you. Your knees rested on his shoulders like two puzzle pieces.
Teasingly, he planted soft kisses on the inside of your thighs, his stubble creating a sweet burning sensation. Out of nowhere, he licked a stripe up your pussy, collecting your arousal on the tip of his tongue. It mixed with his saliva and lubricated the entire area. Your phone buzzed somewhere on your bed, the first time you ignored it. You were sort of
busy, and honestly didn’t hear it until the last minute.
But once it rang again, you definitely heard it. Reluctantly, you began feeling around the bed for it, with Bucky still between your legs. “What’re you doing?” He asked, placing soft kisses between your thighs. “I need to find this phone, this is the second time they’ve called.” You explained, hand landing directly on the phone.
“Fuck.” You muttered, reading the name off your phone, “It’s Peter.” You groaned, answering it. “Hello?” You asked, trying to sound as normal as possible. “Hey, where are you?” He sounded a bit frustrated, you could hear the loud music playing on the other end of the phone call. Just as you were about to answer him, Bucky’s tongue delved back between your lips. A strangled noise passed your lips, that you quickly played off as a cough.
“Are you okay?” Peter sounded concerned now, your brain malfunctioned at the feeling between your legs. The mixture of his warm tongue and stubble rubbing abrasively along the inside of your thighs turned your thoughts to mush. “Hello? (Y/F/N)? Where are you?” Peter asked again, the frustrated tone coming back. “I-I ran out to my c-car, why?” You managed to muster out, your free hand flying to the top of Bucky’s head, pulling his hair.
“We’re gonna cut my cake here in a couple minutes, and I want to make sure you’re here for it. So please hurry up with whatever you’re doing.” That was all Peter said before ending the phone call. You didn’t even have a moment to feel guilty, to be distracted by the tightening feeling growing in your stomach. “You’ve got four minutes.” You muttered, arching your back off the bed. “I just need three.” The vibration from his words made your toes curl in your high heels.
His tongue began to work overtime, and you even felt a new sensation. A cooler sensation and you glanced down and saw his metal thumb land on your clit. Your body jerked at the new feeling, and he chuckled at you. You opened your mouth to give him a smart remark, but couldn’t even force your lips to form words. He started rubbing small circles with his thumb, while his mouth worked on the lower half of your pussy.
“Holy shit…”You repeated this phrase about half a dozen times as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your legs tensed up, and your grip on his hair tightened, which seemed impossible, you were surprised you didn’t rip any of it out. His finger and tongue kept working as you rode out your high until you were sensitive and even then he didn’t stop. You had to practically kick him out from between your legs.
Once he was finally out from between your legs, he barricaded you back between the bed and his arms again. You bit your lip at the sight of him, his chin covered in your juices. He gripped your chin, tightly, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips. “I just wanted you to taste yourself, sweets, and how fitting that nickname truly is.” He winked at you, his words making heat creep onto your cheeks. “We should go.” You said, trying to push him off you.
“Under one condition.” He cocked an eyebrow at you, a devilish smile on his face. You rolled your eyes, and laughed, “What could you possibly want now?” Pausing your movements to get up. The grip on your chin tightened,” After this stupid party, I get to feel that tight pussy of yours wrapped around my cock.” The abruptness of his words caught you off guard. But your smart-ass nature came flooding back quickly, two could play this game. “Yes, sir…”
And with that, while he was stunned, you were able to push him off you. He landed on the bed beside you, and you finally stood and pulled your dress back over the curve of your ass. Quickly, you approached the mirror, repositioning your dress, styling your hair to as close as it was before, and wiping away any stray lipgloss. Bucky walked up behind you, palming your ass with his hands. “Give me your panties.” He mumbled, looking into your eyes through the mirror.
“Are you insane? Absolutely n-“ You were cut off by feeling a tightening sensation around your throat. In the mirror, you could see Bucky’s left hand covering the entirety of your throat, squeezing around the sides. His lips lined up with your ear, “Now.” His voice was forceful, and you didn’t dare play smart-ass right now. You quickly stepped out of your drenched panties and placed them into his hand.
“We should probably get going.” And with those simple words, he released the grip on your throat and placed your panties in one of his back pockets. The walk back to the party was silent, the cold breeze floating between your legs as you walked, made your legs feel like jelly with every step. “I hate you, Barnes.” You muttered, loudly enough for him to hear, before pushing the door open to enter the party once more.
“Thank god, took you long enough,” Peter said, almost instantly greeting as you walked back in. His eyes shifted towards Bucky, and then back to you. His eyes scowled at you, but you simply shrugged. “Oh him? He borrowed one of my, uh, that’s not the point.” You struggled to come up with an excuse. And like the universe was listening, someone called Peter’s name. It was Tony.
“Let’s go cut this cake!”
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Dark Steve x Reader 18+
“I really don’t think he’s in here.”I whispered into my ear piece as my peaked my head around the corner my eyes scanning around the empty hydra base.”He has to be in there this is the last place his tracker pinged from.”Natasha replied causing me to roll my eyes.”I’ll keep looking.”I told her as I ended the communication session my eyes landing on a door at the end of the dark hallway ahead of me.”Steve come on we all know this isn’t how you want this to go down.”I said with each step as I approached the door my hand grasping for the cold metal handle.”You think you know everything about me huh?”A voice said over the intercom marking me freeze as I slowly turned around looking behind me.”Steve give up.”I told him as I saw a dark shadow move silently down the hall making it’s way closer to me until I could see his face.Steve tilted his head to the side as blood dripped down his face.”Your bleeding Steve let me help you.”I offered as I subconsciously checked to make sure my gun was still on my hip.”It’s not my blood.”He said coldly a smirk creeping up onto his lips as si fought the chills that were trying to crawl up my spine.”Let me help you Loki has you under mind control.”I pleaded as he stepped closer to me his eyes looking down at me as his hand gripped my arm tightly causing me to pull my gun out only to have him slam his fist against my face.”Don’t even try it bitch we both know you wouldn’t have the heart to pull the trigger on me.”He snarled as he grabbed my waist making me fight against him as he slammed me against a neat by wall knocking me unconscious.
When I opened my eyes I was in the room at the end of the hallway.I watched silently as Steve stepped threw the door closing it behind himself causing the metal door making a loud thud as it closed sending an echo threw the base.”I knew you would come looking for me.”Steve said as he sat infront of me while I fought against the rope that tied me to the metal chair. His hands gently ran across my chin as he leaned closer to me.”I want to help you Steve.” I told him as he wiped some of the blood off of his face using the back of his hand. “You will help me don’t you worry baby girl.”He said as he crouched infront of me.”I need you to get me into the Avenger tower I need Loki’s staff.”He said while grinning.”Never.”I replied causing him to raise his hand hitting me across the face as I yelped.”Don’t be stupid we both know you’ll do as I say because that’s all your good for isn’t it princess”He said to me as he leaned down pressing his lips against mine in a possessive kiss his tongue pushing against my lips causing me to moan softly.”You’ll do as I say won’t you.”He said breaking the kiss as he towered over me.”Yes.”I said as he grabbed my neck tightly making me gasp.”Yes sir.”I said correcting myself warm tears pricking the corner of my eyes.”Good girl you always listen so well.”He cooed softly as he released me from his grasp.His hands ripping the rope from my wrist letting me fall to the ground with a whimper. “I can’t have you going rouge on our mission maybe I should remind you who owns you.”He growled kneeling next to me setting his hand on my thigh.”Steve please.”I begged as he slowly moved his hand up to my clothes core. “You soaked your uniform I can feel how wet your pussy is threw your gear princess.”He chuckled leaning down to kiss me as his hand slipped into my pants.”Who do you belong to slut.”He growled as he pushed his fingers into me making me moan.”You sir all you only you.”I cried out as he started kissing my neck.I started to pant as he unzipped my uniform exposing my nipples to the cold air.”Please Steve.”I begged again as he leaned now slowly licking and biting my nipples causing me to gasps in pain his fingers curving inside of me with ever thrust.”You gonna cum like a good girl.”He asked me as my body shuddered.He chuckled licking his fingers clean”Good girl you follow orders so well.”He cooed as he grabbed my face making me look him in the eyes.”Open your mouth.”He growled making me open my mouth quickly for him I moaned as he leaned over spitting into my mouth with a smirk. I watched as he stood up slowly making his way to the door.”Don’t worry doll I’ll be back for you.”He said as he made his way into the hall way locking the door on his way out.
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Pairing | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings | smut, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
Word count | 2385
Summary | while on a mission undercover, you and Bucky are forced to share a bed. Very dirty things ensue
"If we're just pretending to be a couple, why do we have to actually sleep in the same bed? Do you really think they're going to break in and catch on of us sleeping on the sofa?" You scoffed, hands perched on your hips and as shook your head at the super soldier in front of you.
"Maybe." Bucky smirked, his answer short but almost full of a lingering promise of more. You rolled your eyes at him, itching to slap that cocky smirk off his face and also maybe accidentally let his cock slip into your mouth whilst doing so. Oops.
You couldn't help it, really. I mean, Bucky is gorgeous. He truly is a specimen, all muscles and cocky smirks and metal arms. Oh and the metal arm? You were dying to know how the metal felt against your skin, against your lips - your lower lips-
"You there doll?" You were grabbed from your little train of thoughts (sinful thoughts at that) by the man in front of you snapping his fingers in your face.
"S-sorry. Lost in thought. What were you saying?" You stuttered, cheeks flushing pink as you averted your gaze to a vase on the table that suddenly became awfully captivating.
"I said that we should go out and get some wood for the fire before it gets dark." Bucky drawled, rolling his eyes now when you hummed in agreement whilst nodding absent-mindedly.
You were on a mission to get some info on a potential lead on a rising HYDRA group in southern France. You were in a cabin like area near some forest that almost seemed out of place, posing as a young couple that was newly wed and wanted a honey moon abroad. So far you pulled off the part perfectly, playing the most stereotypically-American tourists in Europe you could be. You got overly excited at the smallest things, told everyone you spoke to that you adored their accent, insisted on eating at French restaurants only, and local ones of course.
It was the perfect ploy - the only downfall being Bucky's metal arm causing him to stick out like a sore-thumb. So the super soldier has been miserable in public, roasting in the summer sun whilst clad in leather gloves and long-sleeve shirts.
What you had failed to mention to him that the sight of droplets of sweat collecting along his brow and sliding slowly down his neck got you all hot and bothered. So hot and bothered, in fact, that you found yourself desperate to stick your hand between your legs to quell the growing ache blossoming there.
But you couldn't because Bucky was insisting that you both share a bed. Originally, you had just planned on taking the sofa in the other room and get yourself off but that plans obviously gone out the window.
"Right, well. We should go now." Bucky said, cutting through the awkward silence that had settled comfortably between you two. He grabbed your arm, tugging you out the small cabin and towards the woods.
So, three hours later, you found yourself full of food, groaning with the amount to had consumed. Chewing your last bite, you set your cutlery down on you plate, which was almost immediately swiped by Bucky.
"With cooking like that, you've just become my most dangerous friend, Barnes." You chided, a smile finding your face when he chuckled softly, the edges of his eyes crinkling adorably. He set your plate with his in the sink, turning on the water and drizzling some dish soap into the basin. He sipped his hands quickly on a towel before discarding it on the work surface and turning to face you.
"Well, I'm glad you liked it, doll." He smiled, arms crossing over his chest. With the hot summer heat, he'd changed into a tank top almost the second you entered the cabin, so his bulging bicep was on display as well as that metal arm that you adored. His hair was thrown into a bun at the back of his head, a few framing pieces fallen out around his face and it made him look beautiful.
"I'm gonna go shower whilst you clean up." You suddenly announced, pushing up from your chair and bursting from the room. You walked swiftly down the hall, into the bedroom to grab a towel before you were entering the adjoining bathroom.
You moaned as the warm water soothed your aching muscles, the steam clouding up the bathroom as you hummed the song that'd been stuck in your head for god knows how long. Taking a deep sigh, you massaged the shampoo into your hair, the feeling of your nails scraping against your scalp a welcome one.
After washing the suds from your hair and wiping down your body with a sponge and some lemon scented soap, you shut the water off and pulled back the curtain of the shower. Careful not to trip as you stepped out of the tub, you grabbed the fluffy white towel sat waiting for you on the counter and patted your hair until it was only damp, before drying off your body. You wrapped the cloth around you, holding it up just above your breast, clutching it there so I didn't fall down as you tiptoed back into the bedroom.
The door whined is I opened, the handle banging against the wall as you crept into the room.
"Hey, doll." Bucky smirked, lounging on the bed and resting in his palms. Your eyes bugged out of your skull, you jumped slightly, the shock of seeing him there shirtless and with sweatpants handing loose over his hips caused your grip on the towel to stop long enough for it to fall. Bucky smoothed his tongue of his lip, biting down on it as his eyes roamed your body.
You were still in shock, not moving from where you stood, towel bundled at your feet and arms awkwardly by your sides. Bucky whistled, slowly standing and taking a few strides so he was stood in front of you.
"You look even better than I thought you would." He mumbled, licking his lips again before his hands found purchase on your hips. His eyes were searching you, blue edges fading as black lust petered out from his pupils. Your breathing was heavy, mind foggy but all you could comprehend was the half-naked super soldier stood in front of your naked form, hands - one comfortingly warm one chillingly cold - resting on the bare skin of your hips.
And I just made you needy and slick with want. And that had to be the cause of the words that found themselves upon your lips. Your eyes flickered between his and his lips - his soft, plump pink lips - that were just begging you to kiss them.
"If you don't kiss me in the next three second I'm going to scream." You murmured and he breathed a laugh through his nose before his lips crashed to yours in a lustful, earth-shattering kiss. Bucky's hands travelled over your sides, squeezing your waist before going higher until one wrapped around your neck possessively, using the grip he had to walk you back until your back came into contact with the door you had entered from, his metal hand bracing against the wood for support.
Your moan let him know it was exactly what you wanted and Bucky tightened his grip slightly on your neck, a gentle squeeze to test the waters that had you groaning against his lips. He tilted his head to the side, feeling the kiss even further. It was a dirty, messy, sloppy thing - all teeth and tongue and unadulterated desire. When his lips finally left yours, they trailed down your neck, leaving open-mouthed, wet kisses over your throat and your collar bone. A hand found it's way between your quaking legs, finding nothing by slick and slippery skin as the tips brushed through the collecting wetness at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the feeling, letting his digits dance through the liquid before one was slipping into your quivering hole.
"Bucky!" You gasped, hands reaching up, grabbing and clawing at his shoulders for purchase as his thumb connected with your little bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked violently into his hand, a low and rumbling chuckle falling from those perfect, pink lips. Another finger entered you, both of them curling - curling just right, hitting that spot deep within you.
You came with a cry and shaky legs, your body falling limply into Bucky's as he retracted his fingers, revelling in the wanton look in your eyes as he licked them clean.
"Delicious." He hummed, pulling off his fingers with a pop. Before you could protest, the brunet had scooped you into his arms, hoisting up up with his hands under your ass - groping and squeezing as he pinned you to the wall with his hips. Your arms were wrapped around his neck by now, fingers tangling into his long, brown hair as his lips never left your skin.
"Fuck, Bucky, please." You begged, but you weren't really sure what you were asking for.
"You want me to fuck you?" He whispered in your ear, a moan slipping past your lips. "You want me to fuck you in the middle of a mission like a whore?" He husked and you moaned even louder - knowing the word should offend you but it did anything but, the combined sensation of his hot breath fanning over your cheeks, his prominent bulge pressed to your folds and his hands resting on your bare sides overwhelming your senses. His hands moved down, fumbling with the drawstring on his sweats before he was pulling away slightly, pushing them and his boxers down his legs eagerly. You brought a hand down too, letting your fingers trail over his abs before you were marvelling at his cock - hard and leaking, red tip curved up against his stomach - which was now smeared with Previn that you were desperate to lick off. But he wouldn't let you from his grasp.
Instead, you both let out a moan when your small hand wrapped around Bucky's cock, Bucky shivering slightly at the coldness of you palm. He kissed you again hard, tongue smoothing over your lips before it was pushing its way into your mouth, tangling with yours and stroking over the muscle in languid strokes. You fisted his hair, relishing in the groan he let out as you tugged. You smiled into the kiss at his reaction, but pulled away to squeal his thumb flitted over your clit again.
Bucky moaned when his tip ran through your wetness, hand wrapping around his length as he lined himself up with your core. Bucky leant in, pecking your lips.
"Ready?" He mumbled and you moaned his name, letting out a loud moan when he sheathed himself inside of you in one sharp thrust.
"Fuck, Bucky!" You moaned and he let his thumb rest on your clit, teasing circles rubbed over it making the knot in your stomach forms already, blue eyes now turned black as he looked into yours.
"I want you to come around my cock, pretty girl" He murmured, forehead resting against your as he begun to thrust. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin only spurring Bucky on as his pace became slow but strong, knocking the air out of your lungs with every thrust. His breath was hot on your cheeks, eyes keeping yours prisoner and a small layer of sweat coated your faces.
The whole scene was erotic, so it only pushed your further to the edge when he began moaning and groaning, your own sounds vibrating around the room. Your fingers traced over the scars littering his shoulder, before clinging to the cool metal and moaning out at the contrast against your flushed and hot skin.
"Good girl." He moaned, the praise sending a new wave of wetness tumbling down to your core, his cock pushing in and out of you effortlessly now with how much lubrication you were supplying. Bucky's hand moved from the door, fingers wrapping a round your throat again and pushing your head back against the wood.
"This pussy's gonna make me cum so hard, sweetheart, so fuckin' hard." He mumbled into the skin of your neck, dropping his head to nip and suck at your jaw line. You knew there'd be marks there tomorrow, but you couldn't care less in that moment as your walls began to clamp down on his in a vice grip.
"C'mon, cum for me. I can feel how close you are." Bucky moaned and your mouth dropped open into a silent scream, eyes rolling back into your skull, his pace picking up as he tried to push you to your release.
When you came it was a mind-shattering orgasm, eyes rolling back and hips bucking, stomach tight and legs shaking around his waist.
"There we go, good girl." Bucky groaned, chasing his own release now as he used you for his own pleasure. "Shit, y/n." He moaned, stilling his hips as a final thrust sent him over the edge, cumming in you in hot spurts.
Your breaths mingled, the smell of sex invading your senses as you head dropped forward to lean against Bucky's shoulder.
"Fucking hell, Buck, that was-" you panted.
"Amazing? The best sex of your life?" He supplied, hand massaging your hip as you both calmed down.
"Something like that." You giggled. He chuckled too, and you gasped as he felt him thrust shallowly into you again. How was he already hard again? You figured that the serum must have affected everything. You groaned, and Bucky smirked down at you.
"Ready for round two?" He asked, walking with you in his grasp over to the bed.
"If anyone does break in tonight, they're in for one hell of a show." You smiled weakly, Bucky dropping you into the sheets and crawling over you.
"They sure are, Doll."
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𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 ; 𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺
summary: “you are the light of my life кукла” he sighs as he watches you at work cleaning his wounds “my safe place” he softly stated. He watched as tears slipped past your eyes and down your chin.
warnings: fluff, winter solider!bucky x female!reader (vaguely described), wounded bucky, cleaning his wounds, bucky takes off his shirt, broken sweet boy
authors note: ah my second ever written oneshot, also I’m gonna be honest I used google translate for the Russian bits so if Its wrong I am very sorry, enjoy!!
You were startled awake by the heavy metal door to your small cell being thrown open, and the loud clanging of keys. With heavy lidded eyes you shifted your body around, on the sad excuse for a bed you were given to look up towards the open cell door. You see the winter soldier stood between you, and one of hydras many guards as your eyes adjusted to being open.
“попасть в камеру, солдат (get in your cell soldier)” one of the guards outside the cell ordered him while pushing his back hard. The soldier didn’t move a muscle as his body stood rigid and still in his place. He had his head tilted down at his feet. He still wore his awful black mask and goggles they forced him. That was your indication they had sent him out on a mission which caused your heart to sink to your stomach
“сейчас (now)” the guard ordered him one last time. The soldier took a step just a few inches forward so the man behind him could close the cell door. The guard scoffed and slammed it shut and walked off, not without turning the several locks on the front of it. trapping you in the confined cell with the soldier.
“Soldat what happened?” you mumbled in your semi responsive state as you had been woken up from a deep sleep. He slowly turned his head to you as his entire body softened at finally noticing your presence. You were supposed to be asleep.
You were slow to approach him as he is quite irritable in his winter soldier state after missions. “Soldat?” you softly questioned. “кукла.. (doll)” he muttered under his breath. You were a bit apprehensive of doing so but you slowly lifted your hand up to his face to peel the blacked out goggles off his face. Once they were off and discarded onto the small table that stood in the cell, you looked up into his ice blue eyes.
You gasp as you notice them.
There were cuts and bruises along his forehead, and they looked like they continued behind the mask. “May I winter?” You softly question as you had used the nickname for him that you adapted, seeing as you didn’t wanna always refer to him as Soldat. He nodded his head slowly as he stared at you taking in your drowsy demeanor, as you were still barely awake.
You peel the awful black mask they forced him to wear so often off the lower half of his face. Which did in fact reveal more scraps and cuts.
You discard it off onto the table next to the goggles and bring your hand back to his face. His jaw clenched under your cold hand but he immediately leaned into your touch. “What happened?” you whimper as you scan his face finding all the scraps and bruises that littered his sharp face.
“Didn't corporate before the mission” he stared blankly at you as you rubbed his cold check. You wince at his statement and your eyes drop for a second. His flesh hand came up to grab your wrist.
He never touched you with the metal one. Even when you told him it was okay. He was horrified of hurting you if he did.
He picks it up off his face and brings it to his mouth. He softly left small kisses over the palm of your hand and your wrist. You smile fondly at him. “Will you let me clean you up Winter? Please..” you plead as you watched him continue to leave kisses over your soft hand.
“If you insist Мои небеса (My heaven)” he sighed, letting your hand go as you turned away to go grab the very small first aid kit they reluctantly had allowed you to have. He walks over to the small and only bed you were allowed in the cell, as you grabbed what you needed to clean him up.
You grab the small wooden chair that sat at the table, to drag it over with you to sit down on in front of the soldier. “Be honest please, are these the only wounds?” You set all the supplies you grabbed on the bed next to him. You watched as he shook his head no with sadness in his eyes. You sigh and your eyes softened. “Where?” you whimpered out. He pointed to the left side of his stomach as he watched your reaction.
“May I clean that as well Soldat?”
He nodded and stood up for a moment to peel the thick and sweaty leather vest and harness off his torso. Your breath hitches for a second as you took in his exposed chest. He was very well built, not that you hadn’t already noticed that.
You then wince as you see the gash across the bottom of his torso. He answered your question before you could even ask it. “I lunged at one of the guards when he started to say.. the words” he winced as you brought your hand down to the wound. Tears began to brim your eyes as you examed it.
“кукла I’m okay…worse has happened” his body stiffened at the memories of the worst times flashing through his head. He had begun to dissociate a bit.
“Hey…I’m right here” you softly whisper as you stand up and bring your hand up to his cheek trying to bring him back.
He blinks a few times looking around the room before his eyes land back on you standing with your body fairly close to him. “Let’s get you cleaned up now then we can sleep” you nod your head at him questioningly.
He sits back down on the bed and hunching over a bit as he figured you’d wanna clean up his face first. He winced slightly as it was an uncomfortable position to be in with his torso wound. “I’ll be quick Soldat, I promise” you grab the small bottle of cleaning solution off the bed and an old ragged wash cloth. After opening the bottle and tipping it slightly so some would run out onto the corner of the cloth you began cleaning the scraps and small cuts that littered his face.
“Thank you кукла” he shuts his eyes as he relaxes into himself while you lightly rub the cloth over all the wounds trying to be as soft as possible. “You don’t need to thank me..” you paused for a moment. “I’d do anything for you Soldat” you put the cloth down on your lap and grab a couple small bandages to cover the cuts.
He smiled softly at you as you placed them on his face.
Once you were finished he swiftly snakes his hand behind your neck pulling you towards him and crashing his lips into yours. Your lips melded together like they were made for one another. You melted into the kiss instantly as you shut your eyes. His breath smelt faintly of spearmint.
It wasn’t a hurried and hot kiss. It wasn’t supposed to be. It was a soft and loving kiss.
He reluctantly pulled away to be met with the beautiful sight of your flushed face and swollen lips. He smirked like a little shit as he was quite proud of himself. “Soldat..” you scold lightly “stop distracting me i need to clean you up” you sigh but grin slightly as you look down at your lap while grabbing the cloth again.
He doesn’t say anything in response he just leans back into the uncomfortable bed, giving you access to his torso wound. He had a cocky grin plastered on his face though. You began to clean the gash on his stomach with your cheeks full of heat. “Мои небеса..” he mutters out while looking down at you fondly.
“you are the light of my life кукла” he sighs as he watches you at work cleaning his wounds “my safe place” he softly stated. He watched as tears slipped past your eyes and down your chin. You finished cleaning the gash and his tilts your chin up at him with his flesh hand as tears still slip past your eyes. “That is why I call you Мои небеса..” “it’s appropriate, you are my heaven..” you nod softly. He slowly wipes away the remaining tears off your cheeks.
He leans back up to then pull you into a quick and loving kiss again.
“Please Soldat let me finish tending to your stomach wound” You whine into the kiss before pulling away. He chuckled lightly at your stubbornness. You grab a large bandage and wrap up the gash, not before placing some gaze under it, in case it bleeds as well as to protect it. “Finally now I am done” you sigh and grab the remaining medical supplies to put them away.
You turn back around to see the soldier, already laid out on the small bed on his back with his arms out. “Come to bed now кукла” he whines like a baby making grabby hands at you. “Yes winter hold on” you grin, placing the chair back in its place before climbing into bed with him.
“Lay on my chest, it’d be more comfortable” he turns his head to look down at you under his arm. “But your stomach” you question with worry filling your eyes.
He pulls you up onto his chest and threads his flesh fingers through your hair to lull you back to sleep. You slowly close your eyes, finding it much easier to fall asleep now than last time. “Goodnight Мои небеса..” he mumbled as his body relaxed while he began to drift to sleep.
You were his safe place..
And he was yours..
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Can we please get more from uniform Steve? Like he looks like a cute puppy but at the same time so fu*king HOT!? 🥵 ☝️😩
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Okay, something I never tolerate is people sending people death threats. I have seen a ton of people saying that Wyatt Russell (left) the man who plays John Walker(right) in the new Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Is receiving death threats for absolutely no reason, other than DOING his job. If you hate his character, he is doing his job correctly which is to act. That does not give anyone the right to send him death threats. Hate his character, not him.
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Stories that are explicit are marked with an 18+ MINORS DNI warning. I am not responsible for your media consumption and by going past that warning you are agreeing that you are 18 or older. If you are a minor and you interact with said posts, you will be blocked. Everything that doesn't have that warning is fine for you to interact with. I ask that you respect my rules. If you see a minor interacting with those posts and you think I am not aware, please message me the details. Thank you!
☏ Bucky Barnes
Teacher's Favorite AU | Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader
Reader is a first grade teacher to Bucky's daughter - Elaine. After meeting the reader once he can't seem to get enough.
Until You Breathe Fresher Air | Fuckboy!Bucky x Reader
Reader realizes how bad her relationship is with Bucky, and she has to make a tough decision despite her feelings / all things fuckboy!bucky go here
Street Racer AU | Street Racer!Bucky x Reader
Win a race, lose your morals. The reader can't stand Bucky, and he plays along.
Nothing Burns Like the Cold | Bucky x Enhanced!Reader
You discover some odd powers you didn't even know you possessed. Unsure of the control you have over this power, you try distancing yourself from everyone.
Cry Honey Cry | The Winter Solider x Widow!Reader
Bucky doesn't understand why you're familiar. He's acclimating himself to life in this new world he's woken up in, and he met you by chance. The both of you may not recognize each other, but the soldier and the widow are well acquainted.
☏ Steve Rogers
☏ Ransom Drysdale
Family Matters | Ransom x Therapist!Reader
Harlan gives Ransom an ultimatum. Reader takes him on as a client and is rather determined to make him the best version of himself he can be. Ransom has other plans.
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•108 never looked so good.•
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Bucky Barnes Drabble 🥺❤️
A noise pried you out of your deep sleep
You rolled over, trying to find the source of it
“honey?” You asked Bucky softly, seeing him sat up in bed
He didn’t answer or even look at you, his beautiful steel grey eyes in a far-off place
His silver dog tags clinked softly as they bounced against his bare, heaving chest
He tried to inhale, but couldn’t catch his breath
“breathe, James,” you took his hand and placed it flat against your chest so he could feel your deep breaths and mirror them
You threaded your fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck, gently trying to calm him down
“y/n?” Bucky stammered out your name, and you nodded
“I’m here. You’re safe. It’s just us,” you soothed him, turning his face to look down at you.
He moved you onto his lap, holding you tightly and rocking back and forth with you in his arms
You let him hold you, and you ran your fingertips lightly over the scar surrounding his metal arm
He hid his face in your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo and your warmth
“where were you?” you asked, and Bucky went rigid below you
He never liked to talk about his nightmares, but you refused to let the isolation eat him alive
“1944, in the war.”
“My friends died in front of me, y/n,” Bucky’s chest heaved, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tightly
“I know, honey. I’m so sorry. It’s over now. It’s just a memory.” Your hand went to the back of his head, fingers weaving through his unruly dark hair
“It feels real again.”
“I’m real. Those frightening thoughts can’t get you.” You leaned back to look him in the eyes
You pulled him into a searing kiss, trying to tether him to reality with your touch
His hands went to your hips, giving you a light squeeze
“I love you,” his voice was filled with sincerity
“I love you, James.”
Your fingers played with the dog tags around his neck as you leaned in for another kiss
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A Few Weeks
Just A Few Weeks
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Word Count: 2597
Summary: Stuck in a house with Stan, Evans and Hiddleston
Hope everyone enjoys fairly new to this so please be nice. This takes place at the VERY beginning of COVID before EVRYTHING shut down.
Tags and requests open!
A few weeks. That's all just a few weeks, in the house doing nothing all day stuck with three of the most attractive and charming men she had ever met. It would fly by. She was just going to keep her nose in a book and work on projects. This wasn't a vacation. It was work.
Y/N thought this with failing conviction as the car pulled up to the house in the countryside of London's outskirts. She worked with Marvel's newest movie director, testing new actors when COVID had started. It had concerned everyone, and as a precaution, the director had told everyone to stay close but to stay safe for a few weeks. After all, it couldn't last that long could it. Everyone had been put up in hotels and houses, hoping that everything would get back to filming sooner rather than later. She had been told she would be staying with three actors until production started back up. She was to act as a part-time assistant and line of communication from production for the time being.
The cab unloaded Y/N's luggage and drove away. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She hadn't packed much else because the trip wasn't supposed to be that long. Y/N walked through the front door, hoping to be the first to arrive. She wanted to find a sense of calm, professionalism, and organization before the boys came. The house was warmly decorated, a large house for the area. The walls were a warm creme color with beautiful paintings adorning them. Worn but mildly elaborate wood furniture reminded her of her own home, one that she wouldn't see for some time now. For as much as she traveled due to work, her home would always be her sanctuary. She dragged her bag behind her and looked at the stairs hoping there was a bedroom on the first floor. Leaving her luggage at the door, she explored the rest of the first floor to find a state-of-the-art kitchen. "Hopefully, it's stocked. Maybe I can find comfort in at least being able to cook for myself." she breathed to herself, hoping to find the bright side in the situation. It wasn't that she was disappointed in being with the boys; she just didn't know how to be comfortable around them. She knew them but had never spent time with them. She was John's assistant, not theirs. John had said he needed someone he could trust to be there to help the movie continue. She doubted this and figured John thought it would be funny to see what unfolded. Being strong-willed and sassy had allowed her to be an excellent assistant and John enjoyed keeping her on her toes. She was slowly exploring a beautiful library with tons of books and oversized chairs to enjoy reading in when a voice cleared itself behind her. She had been wrong.
She was the last to arrive; turning around, she found all three of them standing there staring and smiling. Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, and Tom Hiddleston. They were simply stunning, all wearing perfectly tailored jeans and T-shirts, except tom, who wore a button-down. Sebastian was the first to notice the silence breaking
it by immediately moving forward, giving her a hug. He spoke warmly, saying, " Y/N, we are so glad you made it safely. Where is your stuff? We'll take it upstairs and show you your room."
By this point, Chris and Tom had started to move in for hugs and greetings as well. This was new. She didn't think they had done anything more than shake hands when she had first been introduced. But here they were greeting her like an old friend. She was starting to smile and relax. Tom's hug was genuine but gentle. He smelled fantastic, like old leather and spice. She found herself almost wanting the hug to last longer. Chris's hug was warm and completely embracing. He opted for the more intimate hug option of both large arms around her waist instead of the one on top one on the bottom the others had both taken. She had to go up on tiptoes to reach around him. This exposed a few inches of skin at her midriff, and she immediately felt his warmth on the exposed skin, making her break out in goosebumps. She couldn't help but breathe him in as his hug was of the bear verity and took her breath away. He smelled like wood and pine. She broke the hug. He didn't linger but did keep his arm around her waist, guiding her out of the room.
"My bags are at the front door. I thought I was the first one to arrive."
"Not to worry, darling, we will grab them," Tom spoke casually as he and Sebastian went to the door to grab them, leaving her and Chris all alone. "John had us here early this morning. He warned us about you and your wild, crazy parties."
"What?! He's lying. I am boring - I hate parties, and I tend to prefer books and dogs to people and parties." Y/N said hastily.
"Joking only joking," he said with a smirk appearing on his face. "He did say you like sunshine and for us to be aware of you sass and wit."
" I have no idea what he would be referring to in regards to sass," she said with a sparkle in her eye and innocence in her tone. "But I do enjoy the sunshine." Chris had to keep a growl from escaping him when he saw the look in her eye mixed with the innocence in her voice. He was absolutely intoxicated by her, and it had only been 10 mins. They walked out of the room, Chris moving his hand to the small of her back, grinning to himself. Y/N almost running out of his grasp, fully aware of how wet she was becoming and not wanting to become a complete puddle at his feet. They got to the stair to find both Tom and Sebastian looking around oddly.
"What's wrong?" She asked, wondering what she had missed.
"Where are the rest of your things?" Sebastian asked, confusion crossing his face.
Y/N let out a laugh saying, "Nope...that's all of it. I'm not rich and famous like y'all. I pack light and dress for comfort. I have that small luxury since cameras aren't always taking my picture."
They gestured for her to go upstairs as they followed behind her. She was too busy taking in the house and the sense of stress leaving her to notice the three men checking out her ass as she walked up the stairs. When they reached the top, Chris told her the first door on the right was her room. She smiled when she saw it. The room had HUGE, almost floor-to-ceiling windows, a beautiful queen-sized bed covered in crisp white linens, and a worn leather sofa she knew she would spend most of her time on.
"We figured you would like this room. It will get the most sunshine.", Chris said with a charming smile.
"Thank you. It is wonderful." She said, not taking her eyes off the window. She always made the joke that she was like a plant -needed sunlight to thrive. She always felt happier when it was sunny out.
"Are you hungry? We were just talking about ordering food." Sebastian asked with the hope she'd say yes cause he was starving.
"If there is food in the kitchen, I'd be happy to cook. It helps me relax when I'm stressed anyway." She asked, looking forward to using the kitchen for than actually relaxing. She had a decent kitchen back home but nothing quite like this.
"It is full, not sure what's in it, but you are welcome to cook if you want. I'm always down for a home-cooked meal.", Tom offered.
Everyone followed Y/N downstairs, where she found a fridge full of options. She paused for a moment putting together dishes in her head, then asked, "Italian, Mexican, or American?"
"I'll make margaritas if we do Mexican!" Chris offered excitedly.
Before anyone else could answer, Y/N declared 'Mexican it is!" She could use a good drink to take the edge off. She was settling in but having something to focus on, and a nice drink would make it that much easier. Y/N pulled her hair into a messy bun and started pulling ingredients out of the fridge. She was making fresh salsa, queso, and chicken enchiladas. Being a Texas girl, she knew good tex-mex, and after learning the secret tricks from her best friend Sophia's mother. She knew good traditional Mexican food as well. Chicken enchiladas were Sophia's favorite dish that her mom would make. She had learned the recipe a few years ago to surprise Sophia after they had both moved to LA. A few minutes into Y/N cooking, she heard some music start playing. Y/N didn't mind. She enjoyed cooking with music. Playing it gave her something to move to as she gracefully moved through the kitchen, finding her rhythm. What she didn't see was all three of the men staring at her, unable to look away. It was like watching pure sunshine. Chris was the first to move and started making the margaritas. Throwing all the ingredients in the blender with ice and throwing it on high. Once it was nice and smooth, he started the search for glasses and found 4. He poured a drink for everyone and handed them out. He purposely handed the drink to her while she was cooking at the stove so he could slide in next to her. She smelled of vanilla, and Chris immediately wanted to get closer and figure out if it was her lotion or shampoo that made her smell that way. Y/N grabbed the drink from him, feeling him so close behind her, and took a big gulp.
"Can I help you?" she questioned with some attitude thrown in for good measure now that she had her drink. Chris realized that he had been lingering laughed, "Sorry. Nope. Just smelled good" moving to the other side of the big islands countertop, he sat on a stool. They didn't bother her too much while she cooked, asking questions about what she was doing to hear her remarks. She tried to ignore the fact they were watching her. She pulled out plates and handed them out. Allowing the boys to get food first, saying she was the least hungry and wanted to make sure they all got some. The sun was just starting to sink when they all sat down around the table and ate. They made small talk discussing apparent things in the world and how soon production would be back up and running. As well as talking about sports and random topics.
Y/N kept up with each topic, never missing a joke or a remark. She didn't realize that all three of them were becoming more and more enthralled with her with each passing minute. She knew who she was and wasn't going to change. The boys got up and started cleaning when everyone had finished eating, stating the rule Those Who DONT Cook Clean and making Y/N sit down. Honestly, she was okay with that the margaritas had been strong, and she was on her third and starting to feel it. Not wanting to hover around them. She wandered outside and plopped down in a patio chair, enjoying the view of the stars.
She had zoned out, enjoying the music now softly playing and the view when she felt the seat next to her depress from someone joining her. She turned her head and saw Chris. He had a little bit of stubble like he hadn't shaved in a day or two, and his eyes were locked on hers.
"The meal was delicious. Where did you learn to cook?" He asked sweetly after a few moments of silence.
"My best friend's mom taught me. I used to spend a lot of dinners at their house and felt bad that they were always feeding me, so I started helping." She answered honestly, not really wanting to share her childhood but not being able to stop either. "My parents weren't the best. They weren't bad or abusive, but they left me alone a lot." Chris didn't know what to say, not wanting to pry but so badly wanting to learn more. Opting to change the subject, he started speaking more to himself than her, "They are so beautiful - makes me miss camping trips with my brother. We would take the tent out to escape my sisters. We would make up stories, eat junk food, and stay up all night." She looked at him with a touch of sadness behind her eyes, "Sounds really awesome. Stuff like that is really beautiful in the bonds it creates between people.
" Y/N had almost completely forgotten who she was talking to. She felt so comfortable with Chris. The conversation all day had been easy with him the playful banter they had at dinner and fanned the spark they had first created into a flame. She could feel that flame in her lower stomach, wanting to be closer for him to come closer. Chris felt the same flame, and when he saw Y/N big Y/E/C eyes staring at him, he saw that flame in her as well. He moved. Before she could even think about what was happening, his lips were on hers. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him. He breathed in the smell of tequila and vanilla, making him deepen the kiss even further. She turned more to face him, enjoying the kiss. What did she expect - he was a great kisser. His lips were soft but commanding in what they wanted. She moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck and putting her hands into his hair. His stubble scratched her cheeks, and she opened her mouth for him. She melted into him as his other arm wrapped around her and pulled her onto his lap.
The kiss was an explosion of the chemistry they had had all day long. A dish shattered in the kitchen, startling both of them apart and cause Y/N to be thrown back to reality. Before Chris could say anything, Y/N was off his lap and practically running into the house. Her mind was reeling with thoughts and concerns. How could you have been so stupid? He either was just looking for something easy or drunk. He has plenty of celebrity women that he could have his pick of. How could you be so stupid to risk your job like that!" She had made it to her room, closing and locking the door behind her. She took a shower and got ready for bed, trying not to think about it. It was just a little makeout nothing happened. No harm, no foul, she told herself. Chris had come back inside as well, knowing it wouldn't be good to follow her. Sebastian was cleaning up the broken plate, and Tom was leaning against the counter with a grin.
"What are you grinning about?" Chris asked with a clip to his voice.
"Since you messed up leaves more room for me to go after her," he said freely. They all sat there in silence, knowing they were all thinking the same thing. Y/N was a once-in-a-lifetime woman, and they only had a few weeks.
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The winter soldier
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader
Rating: Very much 18+
Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring
Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....
"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."
Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.
"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."
Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."
Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.
"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.
Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.
"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.
It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.
The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.
"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.
And that was it. The start of your superhero career.
"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.
You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."
"And how long can you hold it for?"
"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."
Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.
"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."
You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.
"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."
You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.
"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?
You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.
You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.
Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.
But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?
And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?
From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--
Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."
It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.
"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."
"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.
"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.
Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.
Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.
"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."
He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."
Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.
"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."
So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.
"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."
Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.
His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."
He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.
"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."
"You did this overnight?"
"Of course. Get changed."
The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.
Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.
"I think it works."
You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.
"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.
"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.
"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."
You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.
"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."
Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.
And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.
Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.
"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.
But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.
Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.
"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."
You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.
You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."
Let me go. Please.
And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?
"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.
"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?
After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.
A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.
"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.
"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."
Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.
"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."
The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.
So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.
The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.
You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.
Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.
Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.
The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.
You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.
The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.
"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.
Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.
You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.
"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."
"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."
Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."
You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."
If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.
"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.
Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."
He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.
"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."
You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...
It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.
You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.
"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"
All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.
He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.
For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.
You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.
Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.
This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.
But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.
"I forgive you."
Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."
"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"
Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."
He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.
"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."
"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.
"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.
"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.
And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.
His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.
"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?
"Are you blind, Barnes?"
He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."
But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.
You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?
The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.
Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.
You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.
"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.
"Yes, James, yes, I need more."
"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.
"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.
A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.
And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.
Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.
He makes his move.
Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.
He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.
"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."
Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.
Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.
"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.
It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.
So he does. Smack.
And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin. He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.
He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.
"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."
With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?
You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."
He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.
"I hear you, doll."
I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.
He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.
He still hasn't released your arms.
"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."
You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.
When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.
And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.
You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.
When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.
He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.
"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.
"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."
"Already looking forward to next time?"
"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.
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Drunken Confession (Bucky Barnes)
IPairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warning: So much pining and avoidance, mentions of alcohol
Summary: After Y/n drunkenly confesses their love for their roommate, Bucky, at a Halloween party, the day after, the two avoid talking about it as they try to get through their hangovers the next day.
A/N: Trying to catch up since I ended up not having access to internet the past few days so a few fics and hc are coming today!
Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist
"Oh my god, Bucky!" You threw your arms around the man who was quite a bit taller than you, balancing your weight between your tiptoes and his strong stature.
"Oh man, Y/n, you are absolutely wasted." He chuckled, breaking eye contact with a few friends to look down at you. "How many drinks have you had?"
You thought for a moment, tapping your fingertips against his shoulders. "Ummm... maybe two?"
He didn't quite believe you, and you both knew it as a smile spread across your face.
"Maybe more. It wasn't my fault though! It was Steve's! He peer pressured me into playing beer pong."
"Didn't you say you were in the DARE program as a kid?"
You fell back onto your heels, your feet resting flat on the ground as you looked up at him with a confused look.
"Cause you would've learned not to fall for peer pressure." He chuckled. "Didn't you pay attention?"
"When do I ever pay attention?" You laughed lightly before the smile on your face fell and your hand instinctively grabbed the fabric of the shirt Bucky was wearing. "I think I'm gonna be sick."
Bucky was quick to guide you away from the group that stood outside by the bonfire where you once stood and by some bushes in the corner of the backyard. He made sure to help keep your hair and clothes out of your way and rub your back as you let it all out.
When you finally felt that it was all over, you rose from your bent over position in front of him and wiped your mouth, looking over your shoulder at him with a blush.
"Sorry you always have to take care of me, Buck."
He shook his head, giving you a small smile as his hand fell from your back. "Don't worry about it, Doll. What are roommates for?"
"Buck, can I tell you something?"
You couldn't tell if it was the fact that you were just sick or the fact that you were nervous that was causing the tightness in your throat as you fully turned to look at him.
"Of course, what's up?"
"I think I'm in love with you."
You cringed as the memory of the night before took over your thoughts to the point that even when you tried to think of something else, you couldn't get rid of the thought.
How could you have just told him you loved him? You had held onto the secret of your feelings for the past year and it took a game of beer pong with your roommate's best friend to get the secret out of you.
"Are you actually going to make coffee, or just stare at the items to make coffee until it magically makes itself?" Bucky teased, startling you as he walked up besides you.
"I'm going to make it, I just got distracted by my pounding headache." You lied, quickly going through the steps to make coffee. "Remind me next time to stick to water and never to drink again."
"You always tell me that."
"Well, you never seem to help me out." You gave him a little shove as you moved away from him, pretending to get a muffin from a container on the counter, but truly just wishing to keep him away.
"I held you hair back while you puked last night, but I'm sure you won't remember that, you were pretty wasted." He argued. "Speaking of which, are we going to talk about what happened last night?"
You froze as you took a bite into the muffin, scared you were going to have to explain the way you'd admitted to having feelings for him.
Bucky seemed to have noticed your tension, assuming you also thought he would ask about your confession, clearing his throat as he chuckled awkwardly. "I mean, I'm surprised Steve so easily swayed you and got you to play beer pong with him."
"Oh." You sighed, a bit too relieved, as you set down your muffin. "I was already a bit tipsy off a couple shots I'd done with Wanda and he needed a partner."
"That's it? He just needed a partner so you volunteered?"
You couldn't tell the truth, that you only agreed to play if Steve tried to find out Bucky's feelings towards you since you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You knew it was juvenile, to make a deal with someone to find out if the guy you like likes you back, but you were desperate at the time.
"Yeah," You shrugged, "I'm pretty good at the game and he offered to give me ten bucks if we won."
"You got so wasted you threw up in our bushes for ten dollars?"
"I needed money, okay? I kind of blew through a decent amount in my bank account buying our couch, remember?"
Bucky took a glance back at the couch that sat in the living room, not far from where you both stood in the kitchen.
"If you remember, I was fine with sitting on lawn chairs, you were the one who wanted a couch."
You rolled your eyes as the coffee maker dinged. "Whatever."
You ignored him going forward, as you made your coffee and as the two of you watched television together with the curtains closed and the lights off, trying to keep a migraine somewhat at bay.
You hardly ever looked at him and he didn't seem to mind much, speaking to you very minimally with you responding in no more than one word answers.
It wasn't that you wanted to ignore Bucky, you didn't, but he didn't say anything when you drunkenly admitted to having feelings for him and he wasn't saying anything as you went through the day.
You went over the whole night in your head, playing through it all backwards and forwards and in any which way you could think about it. You could remember the whole encounter, despite how intoxicated you were and you wished you could forget the night in the same way Bucky seemed to have done.
But he hadn't forgotten about it at all, as he too was going over it all in his head. He hadn't meant to brush you off, that seemed to be the opposite of what he had intended to do, but he was seemingly shocked and confused by your confession and decided it might be better to leave it all be, allow you to talk about it while sober.
Your eyes locked as both you and him, lost in though, took a glance at one another and you swore you saw him blush as you both look away.
You rose from your seat, rushing to the bathroom, and slamming the door behind you once you reached it. You just needed a moment to breathe without feeling as though you were holding your breath and the ideas rushing through your mind.
"Pull yourself together, Y/n." You said to yourself, staring into the mirror. "You gotta stop thinking about last night, it doesn't matter. You were drunk and so was he, maybe you both forgot about it."
A sudden knock on the door startled you as you leaned against the counter, trying to collect yourself.
"Y/n, you okay?" Bucky's voice barely made it's way through the door, though you knew he was probably right up against it.
"Yeah, Buck." You lied, "I just needed to go to the bathroom, that's all."
"Are you still feeling sick or something? You seem off."
"No, I'm fine."
You hoped that would satisfy him enough so that he would walk away, but you could hear him shift as he leaned against the door.
"Is this about what you said last night?"
The words penetrated you like a knife to the chest as you winced, silent while Bucky also stayed silent on the other side of the door.
"Y/n, can you open the door? Let's talk face to face." He pleaded, jiggling the door handle a bit.
"I can't." You replied softly, grabbing your side of the handle to stop his attempts to turn it.
"Why not? Come on, Doll, we talk about everything."
"Because you're just going to tell me that while it's nice to hear that I love you, we're nothing more than friends and I can't live through that." You raised your voice, almost close to snapping.
Bucky was silent on the other side, the silence almost deafening before he spoke.
"Doll, open the door. Please." His voice was soft and pleading to the point that it could've broken your heart if you weren't feeling so defensive.
You hesitantly opened the door and before you could react, Bucky's arms were tightly around you as he planted kiss after kiss to the top of your head.
"What the hell are you doing that for?" You asked, pushing him away a bit as he merely chuckled and smiled at you.
"God, I knew you were clueless, but I don't think I realized just how much."
"What are you talking about?"
"Y/n, do you really think I hold your hair back when your sick and listen to you cry about things that don't always matter and stay up all night helping you study because we're roommates?" Bucky asked you, causing you to mentally take a step back. "I have only ever done it because I love you, and for you to think I wouldn't breaks my heart."
"Just let me finish." He cut you off and you allowed him to, "I couldn't say anything last night cause I wasn't sure if you truly meant what you said or you were just drunk. I never brought it up cause you didn't and when you didn't, I assumed you were too drunk to remember."
"I thought you were too drunk to remember it, either."
"How could I forget the person I love telling me they feel the same way?"
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