fanficsonthebrain

[fanficsonthebrain]

Already Mine | Bucky Barnes; Part Two

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> After the first time together and the confessing of your feelings the two are in a relationship. When the morning sickness starts and your period isn’t there in time you do a pregnancy test.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 4.665

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, pregnancy test, slight angst, Bucky’s past trauma, Smut, fingering (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, breeding kink, dirty talk, using the word slut, praises, a lot of fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> Idea for already mine pt 2. Reader and Bucky and together now, but after that night, unless its Bucky groaning about how he is going to impregnate the reader as he fills her up, they have never spoken about it outside the bedroom. so when the test comesout positive, the reader is worried if thats what Bucky wants with the whole 'im still getting used to the new world and repaying my sins' thing going on. so she feels really scared and breaks down when Bucky asks her about it. and when she does tell him, he's so elated atthe same time a tad bit upset and himself that you feel like he wouldnt want the child? so basically smut, like smut with a lot lot lot of feral talk at the same time love filled breeding kink, claiming, him telling her how he is gonna marry her. just a lot of lust and love and dirty talking. yeah. @almosttoopizza

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for the idea for the second part of Already Mine. And I hope you like what I made with it.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> Already Mine | Part One

Fandom-Free Bingo: Frosty Edition | B2 | Stripped | @fandom-free-bingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Since the two of you had your first time together, you haven’t really talked about details. You two are together, but none of you is mentioning anything about getting kids. Bucky has a huge breeding kink, and you really don’t mind; you like it, and whenever you have sex, he has such a filthy mouth, and hearing his sexy thoughts turns you on beyond belief. His hands are all over your body, and his cock is buried inside of you, while he tells you how good you feel and that he will give you a lot of little kids who are all like him and are at the same time hot and cute.

Right now, you’re lying with Bucky behind you in your shared bed. His arm is wrapped around your stomach, holding you tightly against him. Bucky snores softly into your neck, his warm breath giving you goosebumps all over your body. You smile softly, his warmth running through your body, and you lean more into him.

You wear a shirt and boxers, and his hand is placed underneath the shirt on your bare skin. After a long night and a lot of orgasms, he cleaned the two of you and gave you some clothes to wear - your favorite ones, because they are his.

When you slowly turn around to look at your boyfriend, you feel an uncomfortable and hurting feeling growing in your stomach. It slowly crawls higher until it reaches your throat, and you feel like you just want to throw up to get rid of everything you ate yesterday. You hold one of your hands on your stomach, and while you wiggle out of Bucky’s arm, you place his arm next to you and get out of bed. Then you almost run into the bathroom, and just in time, you manage to sit in front of it before you lean over it and let go of everything that comes out of you. Tears are burning in your eyes. When you lean back, a quiet sob escapes your mouth, and you hold your hand under your chin, looking at the wall while your stomach feels like it’s spinning around.

Bucky feels your shifting, and when you remove his hand, he growls softly. He listens to your footsteps, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion when he hears you walking really fast. And when he hears you throwing up, he almost jumps out of bed. On his way into the bathroom, he grabs a blanket and a bottle of water. You’re still sitting in front of the toilet, crying while you throw up a second time. Bucky walks closer, getting on his knees next to you and wrapping the blanket around your trembling body. He holds you close and makes you a bun, then he strokes your back softly.

“Is oke, are you feeling better?” he asks, softly wiping a few tears out of your face.

You shake your head, holding your stomach, while you press yourself more against him. His warm embrace relaxes you a bit. Bucky moves slowly forward and backward, and then he offers you the bottle of water.

After a few more minutes, you feel better, and Bucky helps you get up and carries you into bed. His hand strokes your forehead, but it’s not hot, so he relaxes softly. Maybe you just ate something you shouldn’t have eaten? Without a word, you know that he is worried about you, but he tries his best to hide it. His ocean-blue eyes aren’t as bright as usual when he shifts softly.

“I’m fine, Buck. Maybe just a gastrointestinal infection,” you say and sit up, with your back against the headboard. You smirk. “But I’m hungry now.”

Bucky chuckles, pressing you softly back when you try to get up. His eyebrow is raised when you look at him, pouting, but he just kisses away and turns around to make his way to the kitchen.

“Don’t even think of getting up; I will bring you your food, doll,” he shouts from the floor, his voice demanding, and you know better than to disobey him.

With a groan, you look for the remote on the television, turn it on, and look through the channel until you find something good to watch. When Bucky comes back with two places in your hands, you inhale deeply, and your smile grows when you smell your favorite food.

“You’re the best, Bucky,” you say, taking the plate he hands you.

“I know; that’s why I’m your boyfriend.”

Bucky walks around the bed and sits down next to you. The two of you enjoy your breakfast, your stomach feels slightly better, and after getting a lot of kisses from your boyfriend, you’re happy and don’t even think about your stomachache.

— —

After a few more days and the morning sickness still being there, you call your best friend, Natasha. She usually has an explanation for everything about women’s issues and always knows how to cheer you up. Bucky is currently in a meeting and won’t be home before dinner, so you pick up your phone from the bed and unlock it before you call Nat.

“Hey, girly,” she greets you happily, and you smirk. “What’s up? Bucky said you’re not feeling well in the mornings?”

You hum softly. Bucky asked you to talk with Steve and Natasha, and of course, you allowed him. Especially since he gets used to things in modern times. For you and the others, those things are normal, but for him, it’s sometimes like the biggest science thing. So is his relationship with you, and he wants to be the best boyfriend he can be for you. When he needs help, he turns to either you or Steve, and because he lives with Natasha, she is always aware of it. But you don’t mind; she is your best friend, like Steve.

“Yeah. And my period, I- Nat, I didn't have it for a while now.”

You hear the gasp on the other side of the phone, and then she almost screams in excitement.

“You know what that means, right? You’re pregnant!”

“But- Do you think Bucky can get children? I mean, because of the things Hydra did with him, don’t you think they took care that he wouldn’t be able to get kids? In case he would have had sex with someone?”

Nat is quiet for a moment, then she clears her throat.

“You can find it out really easily. Just make a test, and when it’s positive, you know that he can get kids,” she says, amused.

“What when it’s positive and he doesn’t want any?”

“Damn, he is in love with you more than that. He can’t even look at you without smiling; when he wants something, it’s a family with you,” she says softly, but you just hum.

When you both hang up, you walk into the bathroom. You got a test from Natasha and Steve a while ago. It was a party - hosted by Tony - and you played a game where you gave your best friends a present they could or could not need at some point. When you’re in the bathroom, you look for the test and read the instructions, then you do what they tell you to do. After placing it on the counter, you look at your phone, and in fifteen minutes, you know if you’re pregnant or not.

Those fifteen minutes feel like forever; the pregnancy test doesn’t show you a result before, even when you look at it every minute. Your heart races, and your head spins slightly because of the nervousness. You hear your blood rushing through your veins, your phone still in your hand while you look up and down from it. You shift from one foot to the other, sweat covering your forehead, when the result is almost there.

Your mind is filled with so many thoughts about Bucky; how would he react when you’re pregnant? Would he leave you, or does he really want a child with you? Is he already ready to have a child at all? Are you ready for a child? Does your relationship break when you’re pregnant, or would he still love you? During sex, the thoughts of being pregnant are definitely different; they are hot. But with the test in front of you, it’s another feeling between happiness and nervousness - your feelings are a complete mess.

You haven’t recognized that you stare at the wall until your phone vibrates and you look down, looking at the teat that tells you if you’re pregnant or not. A part of you hopes to see a yes; the other part is unsure how you feel when it shows you that you would carry Bucky’s baby inside your belly.

When you finally look down and read what the pregnancy test tells you, you feel the tears streaming down your cheeks. Every emotion overcomes you, and you let yourself fall to the ground, your legs pressing against your chest while you hold your legs tightly. You sob loudly, a bit because of happiness and a bit because you don’t know how to handle the emotions you have at the moment. You’re pregnant. With Bucky, you are going to become parents, and it feels so fantastic that you just can’t help but cry.

Your phone vibrates a few times next to you, but you’re just staring at the pregnancy test in your hands; you can’t believe it. The smile across your face grows whenever you read the word “pregnant” written on the little display of the test.

When you slowly calm down and look at your phone, you see a message Bucky sent just a few minutes ago. He asked what you wanted to eat and if he should bring some or if you wanted to cook. You smile when you scroll the message down and see the bunch of emojis he used. There are a lot of hearts and other cute emojis, and between them is written “I love you, my precious doll” and your smile grows when you see that. As much as he looks like a complete jerk when he uses emojis, you absolutely love and adore it. You tell him to bring some food, then you stand up and pick up the pregnancy test, bringing it into the bedroom to place it in your wardrobe.

You’re still unsure how to feel, especially how to tell Bucky and how he reacts when you tell him that the two of you have become parents. You love him, and you know he loves you, but that doesn’t mean that he wants or is ready for the next step in your relationship.

When Bucky comes home, you’re sitting in bed, watching television. He walks into your shared bedroom, smiling widely when he holds the food in his hands. You smile back, but not the way he is used to seeing you when he comes home. Usually you would hug him and ask him quietly for a lot of kisses, but now you’re sitting in bed and waiting until he comes closer and kisses you softly.

“Hey, doll. Everything alright?”

You nod, and he places the food on your lap. Then he takes off his shoes and jacket and sits down next to you. You hand him his food, not really looking at him or talking to him. Bucky clenches his jaw. Did he do something wrong? Are you mad at him because of something? Or don’t you love him anymore?

“Baby?”

“Mhm?”

You look at him, smiling softly, but it’s not the real smile that is formed on your lips. It’s a forced one, and Bucky feels uncomfortable when he sees you not being as happy as he is used to seeing you and you trying to hide it.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, looking at you with his beautiful blue eyes.

Your lips start to tremble, and your body shakes slightly, but Bucky sees it; he sees the way you try to hide the upcoming tears in your eyes. Even when you turn your head away and let the tears stream down your cheeks to hide them, Bucky grips your chin and tilts it towards him, making you look at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, and his voice shakes slightly.

You shake your head, not able to say something without crying. He rubs his big hand over the small of your back. The way Bucky touches you and his warm hand feels against your body helps you calm down. The feelings are overwhelming, but you also want to tell him that you’re pregnant and let him feel the happiness you feel.

“I-I’m- Bucky; don’t be mad, but we- we’re pregnant,” you mumble, looking at everything but him, in case he isn’t as happy as you about it.

He gasps; a smile forms on his lips, but it fades away as fast as it came. Bucky is happy to become the father of a child that he will have with you, but the way you don’t look at him and have cried before makes him unsure. He definitely misread your expression, and he feels guilty for impregnating you. Maybe you don’t want to have a child; maybe you do, but not with him. When you turn your head, you see his cold expression. He doesn’t smile; he just stares at you. Then he gets up and walks out of the bedroom, not even saying a word.

When he leaves the room, you start to cry again, your hands holding your belly and stroking it softly. You don’t understand why he acts like that. Isn’t he happy to become a dad? Isn’t he ready to have a child, or does he want to have a family with someone else and feels like he is responsible for you now?

Bucky rushes out of the room, his hands sliding through his hair, and he tugs at them harshly. He should have used a condom, and you should have used protection. Now you carry a baby inside of you, and he already loves the little one, but you don’t, do you? How can you love a child who is from a person like him, a cold assassin? Someone who doesn’t know how modern technology works until someone explains it to him: How can you love him now when you have a baby inside your wonderful belly, his baby inside it. You didn’t even look at him; you cried because of him because he breeds you. Because he was so needy and needed to fuck a baby inside of you. A thought he loves, but a thought you seem to hate. He blames himself, and now he just ran out of the room to get some air. How can you love him when he can’t be there for you? How can he care for someone so small and innocent?

You get out of bed, tears blurring your view, but you just want to know what Bucky thinks about your child. So you make your way to the door, and when you look through the floor, you see him at the end of it, sitting on the ground and crying silently that he messed up so badly and that you probably don’t want him to be the dad of the child. His hands tug at his hair, while his knees are pressed against his body.

The picture in front of you reminds you of the first time you met Bucky, when he suffered because of his nightmare and his past. When he wasn’t able to get sleep, he just wanted to get some comfort and love. And it hurts you to see him like that again; you don’t want anything else but to see him happy. You have happy news, but he looks like he isn’t happy about them?

With a few slow steps, you walk closer to him. He recognizes you, but he doesn’t look up. Bucky doesn’t want you to see the trails of tears on his cheeks, and he doesn’t want you to see his red eyes. You kneel in front of him, then you capture his cheeks with your hands and make him look up at you. Your eyes are as red as his, but the blue shinning when he sees you can push the darkest clouds away.

“Bucky, we- we don’t have to become a child when you’re not ready yet. Even when you never want a child with me, it’s oke. I love you, and that is all that matters,” you say, your thumbs slowly wiping his tears away.

“I-I want it? But it seemed like you didn't want it. "I thought it was because you don't want a child with me," Bucky murmurs, his gaze drawn to your lips.

“I want. You can give me as many babies as you want, as long as they are like you.”

When he smiles, you lean closer and kiss him softly. His soft, plumb lips brush against yours, and you sigh. The warmth is rushing through your body until it reaches your cunt, and you press your legs together.

“Time for lunch?” Bucky asks with a smirk, mischievous and needy, and you nod.

You both stand up, and before you can take a step backwards, he lifts you up. You squeal, then you wrap your legs and arms around him. Bucky’s hands slide to your ass, squeezing it while he hums. He walks along the floor until he reaches your bedroom and walks into it, letting you fall onto the bed. Bucky towers over you, his lips chasing yours, and you melt into his touch. The food that is still on the bed finds its way onto the floor, and when you want to complain about the mess, Bucky shushes you with a lovely and passionate kiss. His hand slides down your sides, and he kisses your jaw and neck before he kneels down between your legs. He lifts your t-shirt, his metal hand slowly stroking your belly.

“Hey, little one. Make some space, yeah? I want to give your mommy some pleasure.” Bucky mumbles and kisses your stomach, making you laugh.

Bucky looks at you, smiling, before he trails kisses down your body until he reaches the waistband of your pants. With one movement, he takes your pants together, with your panties off, and groans when he sees your glistening folds. His fingers trail along your thighs before he slides two of his metal fingers through your folds, making you whine. He plays softly with your clit before he lets go to you and takes off his t-shirt, knowing that you get turned on even more when you see his bare skin and especially his muscles flexing while he makes you cum in his fingers.

“Take off your shirt and bra; I want to see my precious doll without the covering fabric,” he groans, and wait until you do, like he told you.

You sit up and take off the shirt, then you open the bra to let it slide down your arms and place it next to you. Bucky smiles, leaning closer to kiss your thighs while his hands are stoking over your sides and lower belly, before he uses his metal hand to glide his fingers through your folds, making you squirm. Bucky’s eyes are focused on your wet pussy, and with his broad shoulder, he holds your legs spread apart. He slowly guides his fingers further down until he reaches your entrance and dips his fingertip into it. You’re clenching around nothing, and Bucky chuckles while he slowly works his finger into your wet, tight hole. You moan, pushing yourself more against him. Bucky pushes his finger completely inside of you, slowly stroking your walls before he pulls it out of you and pushes his finger back inside of you. The cold of his metal finger lets you shiver, but you like the cold compared to your hot skin.

“You’re feeling so well around my finger already,” he mumbles, kissing your thigh.

Then he adds another finger, massaging your sweet spot softly while your moans are getting louder and you arch your back. Your fingers are digging into the bed sheets, grounding yourself.

“That’s it; come for me,” he says in a demanding tone.

He knows your body so well that he can tell how often he needs to stroke your sweet spot to make you come, how much your walls are clenching when you’re close, and how your moans sound when you’re at the edge of letting go and letting the pleasure flow through you.

“Bucky-“ you moan, lips parted slightly.

You come all over his fingers; your juice is flowing over his fingers; and the sound when he pushes his fingers in and out of you makes it all so much hotter. With another stroke of his fingers against your sweet spot, you squirt all over his fingers, and he smirks while he slows the pace of his fingers.

“Mhm, you did so well for me, doll. Made just a mess all over me. Now I’m gonna breed you. I pump you so full with my babies. You won’t be able to walk for at least a day when I have my seeds all in you, when you’re sweating but still begging for more. You will be such a little slut for my dick, won’t you?”

You moan; the way he talks to you makes you needier, and you press yourself against him. You’re so desperate for him and his cock. Bucky gets up, opening his belt and zipper before he takes his pants off, throwing them somewhere in the room. His rock-hard member is visible through his boxers, pre-cum soaking the fabric, and you bite your bottom lip. Bucky slips his underwear down as well, revealing his hard cock. Then he walks closer, leaning over you. Bucky kisses a trail from your throat down to your breasts, biting your skin softly.

“Mhm, I love you, every inch of you, baby,” he groans and kisses along your breasts, leaving hickeys all over your collarbone. “All mine; see, you’re all mine.”

His hands slide your sides up and down, causing goosebumps all over your body. Bucky chuckles softly, capturing your cheeks and pressing his lips against yours. Bucky helps you to move further into the bed, kneeling between your legs while his thick cock slides over your pussy, making you gasp softly.

“Bucky-“

“Shh, you get my cock.”

Your fingers are grabbing his hair, tugging at it while you pull him closer. His blue eyes pierce into yours, his hands slide down between your bodies, and he grips the base of his member, guiding his tip through your wet folds. Bucky smears his pre-cum and your juices all over his tip, groaning softly. Then he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes slowly inside of you. He stretches you perfectly, making you moan into his mouth while he enters you inch by inch. Your nails are digging into Bucky’s shoulder, holding him close. Your walls clench deliciously around his thick cock.

“You feel so good; I want to come immediately inside you. I will fill you and give you all. And then you will carry our pretty little babies, my precious doll,” Bucky says, kissing your cheek while he doesn’t move his dick inside of you.

“Please, move,” you whine, arching your back and pressing yourself more against him.

“So desperate, aren’t you? You look so innocent, but you’re such a little desperate slut for my dick, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, Bucky.”

“Tell me, are you my little cock-hungry slut?”

“I’m. I’m your little cock-hungry slut, but please move.”

Bucky grins, pulling slowly out of you before he pushes his dick back inside of you. You’re clenching around him, your walls holding him tightly, and you moan when he hits your sweet spot immediately. A rough chuckle leaves his lips while he rolls his hips against yours, his dick fitting perfectly into your wet, warm hole, and the sounds that leave your mouth - so desperate and needy - making Bucky go crazy. His cock hits all the right spots, and you grip his shoulders harsher, pressing your hips more against him. Bucky slowly starts to thrust into you, and at a steady pace, he hits your sweet spot whenever he is inside of you. You’re just a moaning mess underneath him, nails digging into his soft skin, while he looks with so much adoration in his eyes at you that you want to melt.

“My precious doll. I’m gonna breed you. Give you all I have, and you will be filled completely. My cum is going to leak out of you, and I will push it all back so you will get so many little babies with me,” Bucky mumbles, his forehead resting against yours.

You smile; he has such a filthy mouth when you have sex, and the way his body feels against yours and his dick feels inside your walls makes you feel complete. His member is stroking your walls so perfectly. You clench around him, squeeze him, and Bucky wants to bury his dick all the time between your tight wall.

“I love you so much; you will be the best mother. We are going to be parents, baby. You make me so happy, and becoming the daddy of our little pretty baby, having a family with you, doll-“ Bucky interrupts himself and presses his lips on yours.

You giggle softly until his thrusts become faster and harder. He chuckles while he thrusts with a harsh pace inside of you. Bucky’s metal hand slides down between your legs; he rubs small circles on your clit, making you gasp and moan even louder. Your back is arched, Bucky’s hands gripping his shoulder tighter, he slides his hand up your body, and then he lets his body fall on top of yours. His warm chest is pressed against yours, sweat coating both of your bodies.

“Come, doll. All over my dick, squeeze my dick like the good girl you are,” he says, kissing and biting softly the soft skin of your neck.

The trimmed hair is gracing over your clit, and your eyes roll back. The pleasure in your stomach grows while Bucky looks at you, focused on your face while your orgasm rushes through your body. You mumble Bucky’s name over and over while you come. Your toes curl, and you press your thighs together, or at least as much as it’s possible with Bucky between them. Your walls clench around him, squeezing him. Bucky doesn’t need long until he comes inside your pussy. His white, warm seeds are painting your walls. Bucky breathes heavily, thrusting a few more times inside of you before he kisses you. Your hands are running through his sweaty hair, and you tug at them, making him groan.

“Do you need more? Do you need to be filled with more cum? Such a filthy little doll,” he says, smirking. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

“You know my dick will be inside of you until I’m sure you’re pregnant with more of my babies.”

“You know that I can’t be more pregnant when I’m already pregnant?”

Bucky nods, but he doesn’t move an inch. He is pushing his seeds with his dick deep into your pussy, and he looks so proud that you laugh softly.

“You’re cute, you know that?” you ask.

“You know that you have to deal with more of me in a bit, right?”

His eyes light up when he asks that question; anticipation flows through his veins, and he kisses every inch of your face. Making you giggle. You haven’t seen Bucky happy like that in a while, but you’re glad he is happy, especially because it’s of you, and that the two of you will become parents to a little one soon.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #smut

[fanficsonthebrain]

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Just a few thoughts I have about this man's hands.

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x Reader

A/N: Don't know where this came from. Don't judge me. It's was an urge I couldn't control.

Bucky Barnes's hands are lethal. Not because he can effortlessly crush a guy's skull or punch through a wall.

No his hands are lethal because of how delicately and gently they hold your face when he kisses you. Like he cherishes you. Doesn’t want to break you. Soft warm skin and cold metal cupping your jaw, thumbs pressing into your cheeks as his lips slot over yours. He kisses like he's fucks. Always starts off soft and slow and sweet until you're begging for more. Gets a little faster and deeper until he's controlling you, dominating you. Moving you where he wants you so he can take and take and take until you're gasping for air and willing to do anything he wants.

His hands are lethal. They're huge compared to yours. Everything about him is big. Thick. But what really makes you feel small, and delicate is when you're palm to palm with him, your fingertips don't come close to reaching his.

His hands are lethal and he can't keep them to himself. His fingers are always curved around your thigh, his thumb drawing circles on your soft flesh, chasing away the goosebumps his touch created. He can't go more than a few minutes without holding your hand, keeping yours tucked away in his so you can't get loose. Not that you want to. At night, when it's quiet, the world is nothing but a distant hum, just you and him sprawled across the sheets, you fall asleep to the sound of his voice and his fingers trailing up and down your back.

His hands are lethal. Especially when he's guiding your hips across his firm, warm body and dragging your pussy over him until you're sitting on his face or cock, grinding you down nice and slow until he can feel you pulsating and dripping on him.

As gently as he holds your face when he kisses you, his grip is bruising and firm when he fucks you. His hands folding your legs back so he can go as deep as he wants, relentlessly pounding you harder and harder, fucking you so good all you can do is take it.

His hands moving you to all fours so he can fuck you from the back, one hand putting yours on the headboard cause he knows you're going to need something to hold on to or you're collapse on the bed, the other hand, all metal, and firm, pushes your hip back so you can meet his thrusts, his cock moving in and out of you so fast, it feels like he's not even pulling out, only going deeper and deeper, hitting your spot so good and hard, tears spill down your face and you feel him making your belly bulge.

His hands are lethal when his warm, calloused fingers roll over your swollen, pulsing clit, metal fingers in your hair bringing your head back so his lips can graze the shell of your ear as he rasps out a soft, deep "cum for me gorgeous, cum all over my cock like a good fucking girl. There ya go, that's it, that's my girl. That's what I needed. Fuck–fuck you're so fucking good."

His hands are lethal when he has his metal fingers around your throat, leaving you lightheaded, teetering on the edge of euphoria with just enough air to moan his name as he bounces you on his cock, his large hand slapping your ass, demanding you ride him faster even as your thighs tremble around him and the room gets blurry. Show me how much you wanna cum, show me how bad you want this. Make a mess all over me.

His hands are lethal when he pushes his cum back inside your aching cunt, telling you he's going to make sure you keep every drop of him inside your pretty little pussy. That he's going to keep you full all the time, never let you feel empty again.

His hands are lethal because they provide the best aftercare. The dichotomy of warm and cold fingers on your back, massaging and kneading your sore muscles while he praises you for taking him so well, being so perfect for him, making him feel good, only stopping when you're relaxed and sleepy. Those hands pick you up like you're feather-light, placing you in a warm bath. Those hands feed you whatever you like, his touch lingering on your lips. Those hands carry you back to bed, placing you under fresh sheets.

His hands are lethal and only you know everything they're capable of.

Only you know how perfectly two of them fill your pussy, stretching you out just right so you're ready to take his cock.

Only you know how intoxicating it is to feel him grip you even tighter just before he comes apart, the way his right hand trembles slightly before pulling you closer.

Only you know how nice his hands feel around your waist when he's guiding you through a crowd of people, wordlessly letting you know you're safe with him.

Only you get to feel the full power of his touch, only you get to wear his marks like a badge of honor.

Bucky's hands are for you and only you. And that's the way he likes it.

And I—

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #smut

[fanficsonthebrain]

aren’t you glad you read the latin?

pairing: demon!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you're exploring an abandoned church when you stumble onto a room with a mysterious old book written in latin. despite your friend's warnings, you decide to read the latin and end up summoning a demon.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), teratophilia/monsterfucking, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, size kink/size difference, breeding kink, praise kink, light degradation, thigh riding, fingering (f receiving), orgasm delay/denial, some overstimulation, dumbification, slight come inflation, temporary body modification, fated mates, pet names (little witch & pet), aftercare, happy ending (let me know if i missed something!!)

word count: 11.7k

a/n: whew! i know this is a day late since i said i'd be posting my halloween fics on sundays, but the warlock fic delayed my editing process, so it ended up taking a little longer to get this fic done! but i'm really happy with how it turned out!! it's technically my entry in my own halloween event, the horror movie hoe-a-thon, using the quote prompt "Do not read the latin." i was reading over the list one night and this idea popped into my head and i knew i had to run with it. i also wanted to branch out into more monster smut, so this demon!bucky is much less human than the demon!steve from my other fic 😈😈😈 (you're welcome, fellow monsterfuckers) anyway, i hope y'all enjoy!!!

halloween fics masterlist

“Do not read the latin.”

Scoffing, you looked up from the book you’d discovered and shot your friend Natasha a petulant look. The book had been sitting on an ancient lectern made of dark wood in the secret room the two of you had discovered in the basement of the abandoned church, and you’d felt a weird urge to read it, stroking the soft leather binding before opening the tome to discover it was written in latin. 

But Natasha was giving you a stern look, and you rolled your eyes. “It was your idea to come here,” you reminded her with a little pout. Your best friend had wanted to do something more than watch scary movies the night before Halloween, and after some research on local haunted locations, the two of you had found the abandoned church. 

You’d started pulling on your boots before Natasha even finished reading through the description—something about being haunted or being frequented by devil worshippers, you weren’t really listening. Something inside you knew it’d be the perfect place to spend the night before Halloween, snooping around the empty church and trying to scare each other.

You didn’t really believe in the supernatural, so you weren’t expecting any ghosts or devil worshippers to pop out, but the deeper the two of you got into the church, the more you felt something. Natasha seemed to feel something weird about the vibe of the church, too, because she’d gotten more and more tense as you’d explored. You’d practically had to drag her down into the basement, using the heavy-duty flashlights she’d insisted you both bring to explore the empty space. 

It had been your idea to look inside the weird wooden door that was built into the back of  the stone basement, half-hidden behind a shelf. Natasha hovered in the doorway while you explored the room, which was empty save for the lectern, the book and a circle etched into stone floor, with symbols you couldn’t decipher decorating the outer edge. 

“I think we should go,” Natasha said from the doorway, shining her light around the room like she was waiting for something to pop out of the shadows. Your normally unruffled best friend seemed genuinely spooked, which only made you want to have some fun with her, a wicked smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth.

“Aw, c’mon, Nat,” you whined, flipping idly through the weathered, yellow pages of the book in front of you. You’d thought about stepping away from the lectern to look more closely at the circle on the floor, but your feet didn’t want to move. It didn’t occur to you that that might be strange. 

Nat’s gaze darted to the pages of the book, drawn by the soft rustling they were making as you flicked through them. “Do not read the latin,” she said again, her voice sharper than you’d ever heard it. “I’m serious.” 

Her eyes were wide, too, and you realized she was really scared, though you couldn’t understand why. It was just a silly book and a silly room. You would put money that the whole setup had been left there by some kids trying to add to the legend of the church. It was all bogus. Probably.

Wanting to lighten the mood, you grinned at your friend. “What’s the point of learning a dead language if you’re always telling me not to use it?” you needled, waggling your eyebrows at Nat, though she didn’t seem swayed by your attempts to joke around. 

Just then, your gaze caught on the page you’d turned to, a drawing on the weathered yellow paper catching your attention. On the page was a picture of a kind of…beast. As you peered closer, centering your flashlight over the drawing, you realized it wasn’t fully animal, more half-beast, half-man. The sketch was crude, but you could make out horns, claws and a tail on the hulking figure. A spark of interest lit in your gut as you looked at the image. 

“I don’t always tell you not to use it,” Natasha retorted while you were fixated on the drawing, only half listening to your friend. “I just don’t think now is a good time.” She waved her arms around, gesturing to the room and the circle marking the floor. “Y’know, when we’re clearly in a place where reading the latin might summon a fucking demon.” 

Her hissed words finally caught your attention and you dragged your eyes away from the book, glancing over at your friend, who was clearly unsettled by the situation you’d both found yourselves in. You couldn’t fully understand why Natasha was freaking out so much, but then, the room didn’t seem to scare you the same way it did her. If anything, you felt less spooked in the basement room than you had in the rest of the church.

Scoffing again at the preposterousness of accidentally summoning a demon, you shook your head, still smiling at your friend. “Ok, sure, let’s say that’s actually a real possibility for a second,” you said, indulging your friend. “Don’t forget, I’ve seen you looking at monsterfucker porn on your phone when I’m sitting next to you on the couch,” you teased, trying to calm your friend down with your light-hearted joking. Waggling your eyebrows at Nat again, you gave her a lascivious grin. “You sure you don’t wanna summon a demon and see what he’s packing?” 

Natasha’s face filled with an angry flush. “You send me half of that porn,” she shot back, but a smile was flickering at the corners of her mouth and you knew you’d gotten through at least some of her fear. However, a second later she seemed to remember where you were and she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide a shiver. “Besides, that’s fantasy—this looks like the real deal, and I know better than to mess with an actual demon.”

Rolling your eyes, you muttered, “You’re assuming demons are real.” Your skepticism wavered, though, when you glanced back down at the book and found your fingers stroking over the drawing of the creature that you realized was the tome’s depiction of a demon. That was strange.

Something about the image was calling to you, inspiring a soft heat to bloom in your core, settling into the juncture of your thighs and pulse through your body in time with the steady beating of your heart. It was such a pleasant feeling that you were tempted to answer the call of the drawing, at least enough to read the instructions on how to summon the being. It seemed easy enough, all you had to do was chant a few lines of latin. A rightness settled into your heart, your eyes skipping over the warnings written in the dead language and focusing on the words you’d need to say.

“Well, my dear friend Natasha,” you said, planting yourself more firmly behind the lectern and looking up only long enough to shoot a foolhardy grin at your friend. “I do not know better.” 

That was the only warning you gave her before you looked back down and started reading the latin. It had been a while since you’d spoken the dead language out loud, and the words felt strange and unnatural on your tongue, but you couldn’t say whether that was your rustiness or if the words themselves had a tinge of evil to them. Your heart raced with excitement as you felt a prickling beneath your skin. Something was actually happening.

Not long after you began to read, an unnatural wind started to swirl around the room, candles wedged into sconces lining the stone walls flickering to life without any matches. The wind blew faster and faster, a dull roaring sound filling the small chamber. Above the noise, you heard Natasha cry out from the doorway, and when you glanced up, having learned the words enough to repeat them without reading from the book, you saw your friend backing away from the doorway. Her eyes were impossibly large and round in her face, a stricken expression overtaking her features.

Natasha’s mouth opened like she was going to scream for you to stop, but before any sound came out, the door to the room blew shut, sealing you inside the chamber beneath the abandoned church. Alone. Your friend’s warnings about summoning an actual demon flitted through your mind. Even you had to admit something supernatural was occurring in the room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything other than anticipation about what would result from the incantation you were reading.

When you’d finally finished chanting the passage in latin the designated number of times, you looked up from the book in time to see a wisp of smoke seep through a small crack in the stone floor at the center of the circle. It rose up toward the ceiling, expanding until the thick smoke was pouring into the room from below. You coughed and sputtered, pulling your sweater up to cover your mouth and nose, your eyes watering as the darkened smog blotted out the light of the candles. It grew so thick, you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. 

After a short few moments, the smoke began to dissipate, and the first thing you noticed was the hulking figure standing in the middle of the circle, the light of the candles casting him in a warm glow. You blinked the smog from your eyes as the half-human, half-beast form of the demon came into focus through the disappearing smoke. The creature that stood before you was even more intimidating than what was pictured in the book, but your body responded by heating all over.

He was massive—his shoulders half as broad as you were tall, muscles bulging in his chest and arms, making him appear even larger. He was tall, too, the horns protruding from his brow brushing the ceiling even as he stooped a little. Your eyes caught on his horns, taking in the way they were thicker at the base before sharpening to wicked-looking points as they extended back at an angle from his temples. 

As your gaze drifted down from the horns, you noticed the demon’s face and his handsome features—a strong brow that was lowered over eyes the color of the summer sky, a mouth with impossibly soft lips turned down in a small frown and a sharp jaw gritted with tension. The demon had a dusting of facial hair along his jaw that you ached to brush your lips over and feel the coarse roughness, as well as brown hair cut to his chin that framed his handsome face perfectly.

Unable to stop the perusal of your eyes, your gaze traveled further down, taking in the golden skin of the demon’s chest, which was heaving slightly in the candlelight as he breathed. The hue of his arms darkened below the elbow, blending into a deep burgundy color at his hands, which were tipped with claws. The demon’s legs were the same. Though his thighs, thick as tree trunks, appeared human beneath the soft shorts he wore, below his knee they faded into the color of dried blood and more resembled the clawed feet of a predatory animal. And finally, behind him, a long tail flicked with curiosity. 

It was only when you grew light-headed and dizzy that you realized you’d been holding your breath while taking your first look at the demon. You gasped for air, noting the way the creature’s eyes darted to your lips at the sound. The blue of his gaze darkened while he watched your lips part and your chest rise rapidly beneath your sweater. Heat rose within you, your body responding to the demon’s attention. You didn’t quite understand the force of your attraction to the demon, but you were so warm and your head muzzy with desire, you had no inclination to question how you felt. 

“You were the one to summon me, little witch?” the demon asked, breaking the silence that had fallen in the room since you’d finished reading and the wind had died down. The creature’s voice was deliciously deep, the tenor of it digging into your ribcage and settling down in the marrow of your bones, making your knees knock together with a trembling shiver. 

Beneath your skirt, you clenched your thighs together against the budding throb of arousal between your legs and stared up into the demon’s face, his stature so significantly taller than yours that you had to crane your neck. “I did,” you admitted, pressing your lips together while you quickly debated whether to say more. Before you could think better of it, you spilled the rest of your confession. “I felt… compelled to do so,” you said, picking your words carefully as you thought of what had driven you to read the latin of the summoning spell.

Since you were already looking at the demon’s face, you caught the look of surprise that flitted across his features. Then his brow furrowed back over his eyes and his mouth resumed its frown. “The book called to you?” he asked, glancing between your face and the tome sitting before you on the lectern.

Your eyes dropped to the book and you thought of the pull you’d felt toward the church, then the basement, and the room you were standing in. You thought of how you’d flipped through the pages of the book until you’d landed on the one to summon the demon in front of you, and the way your fingers had idly stroked over the drawing of him when you’d been talking to Natasha. You hoped your friend didn’t hate you for ignoring her warnings, but you couldn’t ignore what was right in front of you.

“Yes,” you said in a small, hesitant voice. But as soon as you said it, you thought about how ridiculous it was to think that a book—a spell to summon a demon—could call to you. Rebelling against the very notion, you forced yourself to laugh, the sound choked and wretched in the small, stone room. “But that’s ridiculous, right?” you said, your voice high and off-kilter as you returned your gaze to the demon. You didn’t wait for him to answer, though, as you blustered on. “It is! I’m being ridiculous,” you said, mostly talking to yourself at that point, your fingers gripping the edges of the lectern so hard your knuckles were white. “I’m letting the Halloween spirit get to me—I just wanted to know what it’d be like to fuck a demon!” 

A low rumbling growl came from the creature and your gaze flicked up to his face in time to see his eyes darkening, his expression turning hungry as a smirk curved the edges of his mouth. “Well, then, little witch,” he rumbled, stepping closer to you, his hulking body blotting out the light of the candles on the opposite side of the room as he prowled toward you. “I’m more than happy to ignore the mystery of the calling you felt in order to oblige you.” His smirk was wickedly sharp, his lips parting to flash his fangs. 

Instinctively, you stepped back from the lectern while the demon continued to stalk toward you, your heart racing in your chest, and the throb of your arousal echoing between your thighs. Your feet were clumsy, your legs trembling, and even still, you felt dampness in your panties making the soft fabric cling to your sticky folds. Your emotions were a riot in your body, fear and desire fighting for dominance as you retreated from the creature with shaky steps while he smirked wider and wider until your back hit the stone wall of the room. A gasp wrenched free from your lips.

The creature was grinning and practically salivating as you trembled against the wall, his tail twitching agitatedly behind him. Your neck craned as you watched his still-approaching form. “You need not be afraid of me, little witch,” he rasped, drawing closer until he was within reach. He planted his claw-tipped hands against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in with his large body. He ducked his head down toward your upturned gaze, his face and shoulders blocking out the rest of the room as he overwhelmed you with his presence without even touching you. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised, his eyes glittering with desire.

When you took in a deep breath to calm yourself, all you could smell was the scent of his skin, like a crackling fire and something earthy beneath. It was an intoxicating combination and you wanted to bury your face between the demon’s pecs and sniff him to your heart’s content, but you shoved the idea aside as soon as you had it, determining it to be too preposterous. Instead, you forced yourself to meet his eye and say, “Y-you keep calling me a witch,” you said, your voice rising as if asking a question. “I’m not a witch.” 

The demon’s smirk softened into a smile and he dropped a hand from the wall, brushing the back of one of his monstrous fingers down your cheek so softly it made your heart ache with yearning. His tail wrapped gently around your leg, just above your knee, your thighs squeezing together and pinning him between them. 

“You read the latin, you summoned a demon,” he recounted, making your face heat when you were confronted by what you’d done. “By all accounts, that makes you a witch.” 

It seemed too simple, but you couldn’t really argue with that logic. Your actions had been rather witchy, and even if you were still grappling with the knowledge that magic and demons both existed, you were enjoying the way he touched you far too much to be able to form a response. So you just nodded, acknowledging his answer. 

Seeing your acceptance, the demon pulled his hand away from your cheek, but before he could place it back on the wall, you let out a little whimper of protest. You wrapped both your hands around his wrist and brought his hand back to your face, the expanse of his palm enveloping your cheek and jaw. You nuzzled into his blood-red hand, inhaling the scene of him while staring up into his blue eyes.

“What should I call you?” you asked, your voice soft and a little shy. You wracked your brain to remember if the ancient book you’d used to summon him had listed a name, but if it had, you’d missed it. And if he was going to call you ‘little witch,’ you wanted to be able to call him something, too. 

At your question, the demon smirked again. “A demon never gives his real name,” he started, cupping your face purposefully in his massive palm, a rumbling purr sounding in his chest when you continued to nuzzle into him, your eyes closing with a contented sigh. His hand was big enough that you felt the tips of his claws graze the back of your neck, making you shiver, more wetness pooling between your thighs. “For it gives those who know it too much power over him.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, only half listening as you enjoyed the feeling of his warm, calloused palm against your soft cheek. He felt hotter than any human should, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was true for all of him. His tail was warm against your leg, but what about the rest of him? What would it feel like to sink onto his hardness—would he feel impossibly hot in the depths of your own heat? 

A chuckle came from the demon before he murmured, “Little witch,” to get your attention again. Your eyes fluttered open and you smiled as you found the creature gazing affectionately down at you. He went on, answering your question. “I’ve had many names throughout the ages—zimniy soldat, zimski vojnik, vintersoldat,” he said, his tongue rolling easily through each of the languages that were foreign to you. “Hiemis militis,” he finished and you recognized the latin, though it took you a moment to translate it.

“The Winter Soldier?” you asked hesitantly, unsure if your translation was correct. 

“Mhm,” he murmured, a pleased smile spreading across his face. His thumb stroked your cheek affectionately, and you smiled in return. “You may call me that or any of the others, little witch.”

You would’ve expected a demon to be much rougher and meaner, but you were enjoying the creature’s softness, it stoked the heat inside you even higher. You had the urge to press your body to his massive form and writhe against him like a cat in heat, but you settled for bringing your hands up and placing them against his abdomen, which was level with your chest. 

“Soldat,” you said slowly, testing out the word on your lips. It sent a shiver of need down your spine and you looked up into the Winter Soldier’s face. He smiled and nodded at you, encouraging you. “Soldat,” you said again, acting instinctively as you pushed yourself up on tiptoes, head tilted back so that your lips were angled toward his mouth.

The demon knew exactly what you wanted, but he was so much taller than you that he couldn’t quite stoop enough to kiss you. So he wrapped his massive hands around your waist and picked you up, pinning you back against the wall by pressing his hulking body against yours, one of his thick thighs pushing between your legs as his tail wrapped around your ankle, pulling you open for him. His skin was hot against your inner thighs, brushing up under your skirt, but you couldn’t be distracted by that because a moment later the demon’s mouth was on yours. 

The Winter Soldier kissed you like he touched you—gently, taking care of your fragility in comparison to his imposing muscle. His mouth was searching as it worked against yours with soft brushes of his lips and tongue, the carefulness of his movements teasing your arousal even higher until you were practically intoxicated with it. 

A needy whimper escaped your lips as you pushed against the creature, taking his face in your hands and deepening the kiss with a hunger that surprised even you. The demon made a pleased sound deep in his chest, rumbling against your ribcage, and you felt his mouth curve into the ghost of a smile before he was meeting your fervor with his own. His tongue plunged past your lips and took possession of your mouth, dragging heated gasps and desperate moans from your throat as he explored you.

He tasted of sin and pleasure and depraved devotion and you couldn’t get enough, your hands clinging to his bare shoulders as your hips began to work against his thick thigh, grinding yourself down on his bulging muscle through your panties. You were slick enough to make the movement pleasurable and you moaned at the friction, the demon swallowing the sound down with a growl. His response only made you grow slicker between your thighs, so that you were sure he could feel your wetness against his heated skin.

Wrenching his mouth from yours, the demon’s face hovered in front of your gaze, his blue eyes blazing with a depthless hunger and his nostrils flaring as he scened something that made another sound rumble in his chest. “I can smell your arousal, little witch,” he murmured before taking a deep breath and groaning low in his throat. “You smell like your sweet cunt is flooded and ready for cock.”

Heat filled your cheeks at the implication of his words, but the pleased groans he let out sent a warming desire straight to your slit. You clenched your thighs, which only pressed your slit down harder on him, wringing a keening, desperate sound from you. “Soldat,” you whined, rocking against him with jerky, frantic movements. “Please, I need more!” 

He chuckled, his hands gripping your hips and guiding you to rub yourself harder against his thigh, his tail stroking gently up and down your leg. “You want to see what it’s like to fuck a demon, don’t you, little witch?” he asked tauntingly, throwing your earlier words back at you, making you whine mindlessly while he went on. “Want to know the feeling of being split open on my monstrous cock?” His voice was low and merciless right beside your ear as you furiously humped his thigh. “Do you think you can take it?” 

His taunting words had you glancing down below his waist and your eyes widened when you saw the massive, twitching bulge beneath his shorts. His one scrap of clothing was made of a soft material that did very little to hide the way his big dick was growing and thickening, the weeping tip pushing out from the waistband of his shorts. Your mouth watered at the sight of the blood-red demon cock, wanting to sink to the floor and lick the pearl of precum from the head of his cock, then worship the full length of him with your mouth until he came down your throat. 

But you realized quickly you’d have trouble doing more than licking and kissing him. As the Winter Soldier’s cock continued to grow with the demon’s desire for you, you saw the full head of his dick push out of his shorts, and it was bigger than anything you’d seen outside of the monsterfucker porn you liked. He was as thick around as your wrist and as long as your entire forearm. You knew you’d struggle to take even the head of his cock in his mouth. 

Even as the Winter Soldier’s size should’ve made you question how he could ever possibly fit inside you, your mind was focused on the thought of sitting between his legs and worshipping his magnificent, monstrous cock however you could manage. If that meant kissing and licking up and down the veins of his thick cock, then taking the head into your mouth and sucking on him until he came, then so be it. 

“Mm, you’re a perfect little whore, aren’t you, witch?” the demon teased, having read your slutty thoughts from the way you were staring wantonly at his cock. He made another pleased rumble in his chest, almost like a purr, the sound making you squirm on his thigh, your pussy dripping and clenching down around nothing when what your body wanted was to be stuffed full of cock. The demon chuckled. “You do like the idea of taking my demon cock into your tight little human cunt, don’t you,” he said, a hint of awe in his tone. “I can feel you soaking through your panties—you’re drenched for me, aren’t you?”

His words had you warming with embarrassment over your blatant desire for the creature, but you refused to feel shame for your arousal—especially when the demon wanted you just as badly. His stiff cock was evidence of that. So you looked up at the Winter Soldier and gave him a wide, hungry smile of your own. 

“I’ve thought a lot about fucking a monster cock like yours, Soldat,” you confessed, your expression shifting into one of coy teasing. You fluttered your lashes at him, trying to restrain the smirk that wanted to be set free. “I want you to do more than split me open—I want you to ruin my pussy with it.” You savored the way his blue eyes darkened at your words. “Fuck me, claim me, make me yours, Soldat.” 

“Filthy little witch,” the demon growled, your words cutting through his restraint. He tore your sweater and skirt from your body with one sweep of his razor-sharp claws, shredding your panties before you could even gasp at the cold of the room brushing against your bare skin. “So eager to be defiled and desecrated by a demon.” His big hands groped your small, soft body, using his tail to tease your nipples until they were stiff peaks and your chest was heaving with need. The demon’s eyes flashed when he caught your heavy-lidded gaze. “Do you even know what it means to be taken by a demon, to have my infernal seed buried in your sweet little human cunt?”

“Oh fuck, I don’t care,” you whined, your hips writhing against the bare skin of the Winter Soldier’s thigh. The heat and hardness of his leg was a weak replacement for what you really wanted between your thighs, and it only made you more desperate to be filled. Reaching down, you shoved the demon’s shorts down and wrapped both hands around his massive cock, working them up and down his length until you earned a groan of approval. “I want your cock, I want you to fuck me—now, Soldat, please.” 

The demon chuckled, bouncing you on his thigh, which only wrung a more needy moan from you. “Such a reckless little witch,” he rumbled. Still teasing your nipples with his tail, he slid one of his hands down your body and shoved it between your cunt and his leg, his fingers curling inside your sopping wet pussy with ease. You half-expected to feel the pinch of his claws, but you felt only pleasure at finally having something inside you. “And so wet for your demon,” he practically purred in your ear, thrusting two fingers slowly into you. “You’re just a desperate, needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” you answered quickly on a gasp, only half aware of the question he’d asked. You were so riled up, arousal pounding through your blood, that you suspected you would’ve agreed to anything he said. Perhaps it should’ve worried you, especially what he’d said about burying his seed inside you, but you were too far gone in your lust to care. “Need you, Soldat, I need you so bad,” you cried, tears springing to your eyes in your frustration.

“I know, pet, I know,” he murmured soothingly as he added another finger to your hole, stretching you out while you rocked on him. His tail caressed your breasts and belly as he stroked your face with his hand, cooing at you sympathetically while he brushed his lips against your heated cheeks. “Gotta get you ready to take me,” he explained, an apology in his tone as he explained why he hadn’t given you his cock yet.

You nodded to let him know you understood, squirming and letting out a little whimper when he added a fourth finger, panting for breath as you struggled to take him. You knew he was right to take his time stretching you out before trying to sheath his monstrous cock inside you, and you knew you should be grateful he was even trying to prepare you, but you were impatient. To keep yourself from whining more for him, you kept your hands moving up and down his hardness, using your thumb to collect the pearl of precum from the tip.

The Winter Soldier’s attention was dragged away from your pussy when you brought that thumb to your lips and you caught his eye before popping it into your mouth. You let him see the way your eyes went heavy-lidded at the first taste of him, so salty and musky and good that you groaned loudly. You sucked on your thumb while the demon watched, reveling in the heat of his attention. An unnatural tingling sensation was spreading through you, but you didn’t stop and wonder at it, too transfixed by the Winter Soldier and your desire.

“You like how my come tastes, little witch?” he rumbled, fucking you faster with his fingers buried in your cunt up to the knuckle. You were so wet for him and he was moving so fast, the sounds of your wet, squelching pussy were loud in the otherwise quiet room, only matched by your panting breaths. “Are you trying to tempt me into fucking your hot mouth so you can guzzle down my seed like a thirsty heathen?”

At his filthy words, you moaned and arched your body, trying to bear down harder on his fingers even though you had no leverage with your body pinned to the wall. Panting dazedly, you managed a smirk as you looked up at the demon. “If you’re offering…” you said in a suggestive, if breathless, voice. 

He rumbled another laugh, the sound making you shiver with need. “Too greedy for your own good,” he chastised lightly, the tip of his tail spanking your ass lightly, though it still made you twitch and grind harder on his fingers. The Winter Soldier shoved his fingers as deep inside you as they’d go and spread them, stretching you almost impossibly wide. He’d driven you to the edge of your release and you were hanging on by a thread, your gasping moans turning even more desperate as words escaped you.

“While I do like the idea of covering your pretty face in my come,” he began, working your pussy open with his big fingers while you cried out and writhed against him. “I said I’d fuck your tight little cunt and I always keep my word.” He pulled his fingers from your fluttering channel, wrenching you away from the edge and denying you your release. You whined at the loss of him, but the demon only shushed you. “Hush, little witch, you’ll be filled with more demon cock than you can handle soon enough—and you’ll come more times than you can count.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that, Soldat,” you said on a purr, a pleased smile on your lips. You let your head fall forward against the demon’s chest, kissing and licking and biting his skin wherever you could reach while he shifted you in his hands. He shoved his shorts down to his feed and maneuvered you until your legs were spread around his waist, your dripping entrance hovering over the tip of his cock. Your arms couldn’t reach up around his shoulders so you held onto his bulging biceps for something to cling to. 

The tips of the demon’s claws dug into the soft flesh of your ass and you moaned, rocking against the tip that felt much bigger than his four fingers. Excitement and only a small amount of trepidation rippled through your body as you kept grinding down on the head of Winter Soldier’s thick cock. His tail wrapped around one of your ankles and spread you wider until your thighs were as open for him as possible. The demon started to push inside you and even with all his time preparing you, it took a long moment to work the tip of his massive cock into your tight little hole.

“Soldat,” you whined when it popped inside, stretching you nearly to the point of pain. But it felt so good, too, your pussy being stretched beyond its limit making your mind go hazy with pleasure. Your mouth fell open as you whined and whimpered, not knowing whether you were urging him on or urging him to be careful.

“Shh, be a good little witch and take your demon’s cock,” the Winter Soldier rumbled, pulling out before thrusting just the tip back inside, sending your head rolling side to side on your shoulders as your body struggled to accommodate his size. You wailed at the overwhelming sensations, your brain feeling like it had leaked from your head so that all you could do was make mindless sounds as he impaled you on his cock. “You wanted this, remember, little witch?” he teased you as he fucked you with the tip of his cock. “You begged me to ruin your pussy with my big, fat demon cock—does it not feel as good as you hoped?”

He was pressing deeper with every thrust, fucking you open with his monstrous cock, and you could feel yourself stretching to take him, your pussy aching with the effort, but the pleasure you felt far eclipsed any pain. “Better,” you cried out on a gasp, barely finding your tongue and answering his question. You tilted your face up so you could see his face looming above yours, getting lost momentarily in his darkened gaze. “Feels better than I ever imagined,” you slurred, half-drunk and dumb on the pleasure he was giving you. A dazed smile spread across your face as his cock rubbed against more and more of your sensitive inner walls, filling you better than any man or toy ever hoped to.

“You love it, don’t you—love being my perfect little cocksleeve?” the demon rumbled, fucking even deeper into you. He’d worked at least half of his length inside you, which didn’t seem like it should be possible, but you could feel him deep inside you, his cock hot inside your slick channel. The Winter Soldier took one hand away from your hip and placed it over your lower belly, pressing down and making you feel him buried inside you even more acutely. “You love feeling my demon cock destroying your pussy for anyone else, don’t you, little witch?”

“Yes, master,” you cried hoarsely, not knowing where the honorific came from but not questioning it either. It felt right to call your demon ‘master,’ especially after he’d taken such exquisite possession of your body. You gasped when he shoved his cock even deeper, his hand pressing down on your belly making your body even tighter around him. “Love it so much!” 

The Winter Soldier groaned, his hands flexing against your body and gripping you even more tightly. “You were made for this, pet,” he rasped, dropping his head and pressing kisses to your forehead until you tilted your face up and he could capture your lips. He relaxed his grip on your body and let gravity do its work, forcing you to sink further down on his cock. 

You whimpered into the demon’s mouth as you felt his cock rearranging your guts to fit his hot, hard length inside you. You weren’t sure how much of his cock was left for you to take, but you weren’t sure anymore would fit. But just as you had that thought, he shoved another inch of his fat cock into your pussy, making you cry out, your whole body trembling in his arms as you came suddenly. 

The demon held you crushed to his chest, grunting and groaning as your pussy convulsed around his thick cock. You knew the tip of his dick was weeping precum into your cunt from the tingling sensation that spread through you, recognizable from when you’d tasted his come. The feeling added to your pleasure as you rode out your orgasm with jerky little movements of your hips and mindless moans. 

“That’s it, little witch, come on your master’s cock,” he rasped, one hand stroking down your side, feeling the way your body trembled for him. “You feel so good milking my cock, but I’m not done with you yet.” With that, he pushed another inch into you, making you shriek in surprise, your body wracked with violent tremors at the feeling in your oversensitive pussy, but he didn’t relent. “You were made for this,” he repeated, his voice taking on a dark and hungry edge as he worked his cock even deeper. “You were made to take demon cock inside your tight little cunt—and you were made to take demon seed inside your human womb and be bred by a demon.”

The Winter Soldier’s words should have worried or scared you, but they only turned you on more. You moaned unintelligible gibberish, legs spreading wider, knees lifting higher to take his cock deeper inside you in an invitation to do exactly as he said. Your hands clung to his massive biceps, nails digging into his skin while you nodded your head fervently. You didn’t know where the desire came from to let this demon, the one called the Winter Soldier, breed you, but you were defenseless against the need inside you.

“Master, please, please breed me,” you begged, the words slipping from your lips before you’d scarcely thought them. They felt right on your tongue, like it was only natural for you to want a demon to breed you. “Master, master, master, please, knock me up, breed me with your seed,” you said, whimpering and moaning as you stared up into the demon’s eyes.

“Perfect pet,” the Winter Soldier praised, his eyes darkening as he stared down at you, stroking your face with his claw-tipped hand. “I’m going to fill you up with my come until my seed takes in your precious little womb, and then I’m going to watch as you swell with my child—my perfect little breeding witch.” 

With a growling grunt, the demon buried his cock into your cunt to the hilt, shoving the rest of his length into your body. A scream wrenched free from your lips at the sharp, searing pain of your body taking his entire cock deeper than was humanly possible, but the sting was soon replaced by pleasure beyond any you’d ever felt.

Your body went limp in your demon master’s arms, your head rolling back on your shoulders and your tongue lolling out of your mouth. It was like the demon’s cock had flipped a switch inside you and you were left completely mindless, only able to bask in the unimaginable bliss he delivered unto your body. Your mouth made soft babbling sounds, but otherwise you were nothing more than a boneless toy for the Winter Soldier to use for his own pleasure.

“That’s it, little witch,” the demon growled, pulling out until only the tip of his monstrous cock was still inside you. A gentle keening sound escaped your mouth and the creature chuckled. “Give me your submission and I’ll fuck you just like you’ve always dreamed—like you’re nothing more than my tight, warm cocksleeve.”

Another sharp cry fled your lips when he used his grip on your waist to pull you down onto his cock, filling you up all over again, making your body shudder with pleasure. You were distantly aware that his cock never should’ve fit all the way inside your pussy, but he was buried inside you to the hilt and it felt too good to question. The tingling throughout your body persisted and, if you had to guess, you suspected some kind of magic was at work allowing you to take the creature’s full length.

“Fuck, you feel so good, pet,” the Winter Soldier purred, using your body like a fleshlight as he worked you up and down his cock. “You were made to please me, and you’re doing so well—taking your master’s cock so fucking deep.” He groaned loudly, the sound so deep and delicious, it made your body clench with desire. “I can feel your womb, pet,” he rumbled, fucking you faster on his cock, driving your pleasure higher and higher. “Your cervix is sucking on my cock, begging for my seed, little witch.” His voice was little more than a growl as he fucked you furiously. “Do you want it? Do you want my demon seed inside your sweet little human womb?”

You couldn’t do anything but babble mindlessly, too far gone with pleasure as he fucked you, but you tried to nod your head to show that you wanted it. You wanted it so badly, to be filled with your demon master’s come, to carry his child, to give your body over to him and be his perfect breeding pet. 

The demon chuckled as you struggled to answer his questions, fucking you harder when he saw you nod your head. “Good pet,” he purred, his balls, big and heavy, slapping against your ass with every thrust. “It’s been so long since anyone’s summoned me, I’ve got plenty of come for you, little witch,” he rasped, his own desire evident in his voice. “I’ll fill you up until your womb is full and bloated with my come,” he promised, bouncing you furiously on his cock while you both groaned at the feeling. “And then I’ll keep you plugged with my cock so none can leak out.”

“Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh,” you mumbled, the closest thing you could get to real words. You wanted to show him how much you wanted what he was saying. It called to something deep in you that you’d never looked at very closely, but the thought of being bred by your demon was too good, and it only drove your pleasure higher, pushing you closer to your release. 

“Ready, little witch?” the Winter Soldier huffed, fucking you harder, rutting into you as he chased his release. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, and you shivered, nodding your head as quickly as you could. The demon grinned wickedly, his tail slipping between your thighs to rub your clit ruthlessly while he pounded into you. “Take my come, little witch, take your demon master’s seed deep in that tight little cunt, let me flood your womb.” He grunted, burying his cock deep inside you, his length throbbing as you felt him begin to release.

You came at the first spurt of his seed, your vision going black for a moment as overwhelming pleasure washed over you. Your whole body clenched tight as a piercing scream spilled from your mouth. You dug your nails into the demon’s biceps hard enough to nearly draw blood, your hips jerking and pressing down on his cock, rubbing against his tail on your clit, as you rode out your orgasm.

The Winter Soldier groaned like he was being tortured as you both writhed together, drawing out your orgasms while he flooded your pussy with his come. There was so much that your lower belly felt heavy with it and when you glanced down, you saw a bulge in your body that could only be from the amount of come the demon had pumped into you. Your pussy fluttered with another minor orgasm at the sight, and you let out a breathless moan. The demon grunted, thrusting into you shallowly, like he was making sure he’d milked every drop inside you.

After long moments of reveling in your pleasure together, the demon slumped, his arms wrapping around your lower body to hold you cradled against his chest. With a contented sigh, he turned until his back was to the wall and then slid down, holding you carefully so no part of your bared skin scraped against the rough stone of the wall or the floor. You relaxed against his massive chest, trying to catch your breath.

For a long time, you lay like that, your much smaller body sprawled across the expansive chest of the demon you’d summoned. His cock was softening inside you, but still filled you to the point of being nearly uncomfortable. You enjoyed the feeling of being connected to him, and you didn’t want to ever move. You were so content and sated, you let yourself dream about spending the rest of your life in your demon’s arms.

The Winter Soldier seemed happy as well. He purred beneath you, his hands and the tip of his tail stroking up and down your spine comfortingly. Occasionally, he dragged his claws over your skin in a way that made you shiver. He chuckled whenever you trembled, enjoying the way your body reflexively clenched down on his cock. Then his hands would go back to soothing over your body, groping your ass and hips possessively.

Slowly, you regained control of your limbs and your breathing evened out, but you stayed where you were, content to lay on the Winter Soldier as long as he’d allow. The tingling that you’d felt since the demon began leaking precum into your pussy began to ebb, and you felt something strange—something new—at the base of your spine and at your temples. You tensed with confusion, not sure what was happening to your body, and the demon grunted when your walls clenched down hard on his cock.

“Something wrong, little witch?” he rumbled in a soft, sleepy voice. You didn’t have a chance to truly appreciate the sweetness of the demon’s sleepy voice because the sensations in your body were so strange, they were making you worry for the first time since you’d entered the room beneath the abandoned church. 

“I feel weird,” you said, pushing yourself up and reaching behind you to touch your lower back, just before the rise of your ass. Your fingers connected with the base of a tail that hadn’t been there before and you gasped. “I have a tail,” you said in a quiet, wondrous tone. Turning to look over your shoulder, you ran your fingers along the new blood-red appendage, shivering at the sensation. The tail was sensitive even to your own touch and your stroking fingers had you quivering with need. 

The Winter Soldier’s own tail curled around your back and came to twine with yours, making you shudder and suck in a sharp breath, your nipples tightening into stiff peaks as renewed arousal flooded your pussy. The demon groaned, then caught your chin between his fingers, turning your face to him. “You really didn’t read the fine print before you summoned me, did you, little witch?” he asked, amusement in his tone. 

When his gaze flicked to your temples and he nodded in their direction, you reached up and inspected the other spots where you’d felt the tingling sensation. You found two small horns, only a couple inches long, protruding from your hairline and pointing toward the back of your head. “I have horns!” you exclaimed, a little bit of excitement in your tone at the new additions to your body. But then the Winter Soldier’s words finally sank in and you refocused on him, your brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, what do you mean about the fine print?”

“You summoned a breeding demon, little witch,” he explained, gesturing to himself with one hand, an amused smirk on his lips. “Since humans aren’t meant to take a demon’s cock, our come changes your body to accomodate for our size,” he said, swatting your ass lightly and making you clench down on him again, highlighting just how big he was and how impossible it was that he’d buried the entirety of his cock inside you. He was getting hard inside you, his length thickening and stretching you to the point that you barely heard his next words. “And there can be certain side effects,” he finished, his tail stroking yours and making you moan shamelessly.

Your hips rocked on the Winter Soldier’s cock, and it took some effort to refocus on the conversation, worry seeping back into your chest as a thought occurred to you. “Is it permanent?” you asked in a shaky voice, wondering how on earth you were going to explain your new horns and tail to Natasha, let alone everyone else in your life.

The Winter Soldier leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips brushing against the base of one of your little horns. “No, pet,” he murmured, a tinge of regret in his tone. “The summoning isn’t permanent, so neither are the side effects.”

“Oh,” you said, inexplicably disappointed by that revelation. However, you realized there might be another way your body could change from your coupling with the demon. “But what about your seed—if humans can’t normally take demons, can I get pregnant from you?”

The Winter Soldier grinned, pressing his hand down on the little bulge in your tummy where his come still filled your womb. You moaned, your mind going hazy with arousal, but you shook your head, giving him a sharp look and waving your hand in a circle to encourage him to explain. 

“No, little witch, my seed won’t really take in your womb,” he said, a smirk on his lips. He seemed to enjoy torturing you with pleasure just as much as he enjoyed your antics. “Not unless you complete the breeding spell.” 

Your eyes flicked to the ancient book on the lectern, wondering if you should try to find that spell. But then you shook the thought from your head, looking back to your demon. Amusement danced in his eyes, a deep hunger lingering beneath it that made you squirm on his cock. “What happens to you when the summoning spell ends—and how long does it last?” you asked, wondering how much more time you had with the Winter Soldier.

His hands came up to grip your hips, helping you grind on his cock while he answered your questions. “I’ll go back to where I came from—the underworld,” he said, a little sadness in the rasp of his voice. “But we have a few hours yet.” 

You whined unhappily at that, planting your hands on his abdomen as you rolled your hips, rocking on his hard length. He felt so good inside you that you never wanted him to leave. The knowledge that the spell would eventually end and he’d have to go back to the underworld filled you with a desperate anguish, compelling you to ride his cock faster.

“Haven’t had you fill of demon cock yet, little witch?” the demon teased, sitting up and tilting your face so he could press a searing kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, you were embarrassed to realize tears were slipping down your cheeks. Emotions were a tangle in your chest, making your heart and throat feel tight.

“I’ll never get enough of you, master,” you said softly, reaching up and cupping your demon’s face in your hands. You stared deeply into his eyes as you confessed, “I don’t want you to leave me.” Your words cut off as you choked back a sob, trying to swallow the sound and letting out a desperate little whimper instead. 

“Oh, my perfect little witch, I don’t want to leave you, either,” he cooed, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips before dragging them across your cheek and whispering an important secret into your ear. 

Your heart warmed at the Winter Soldier’s murmured words, feeling overcome with something that felt an awful lot like the first blooming glory of love. You knew it was preposterous, but it was how you felt, and you wouldn’t let your doubts ruin the moment.

When the demon had told you what you needed to know, he captured your lips in fierce kiss, both of you pouring your burgeoning emotions into the slide of your mouths and the stroking of your tongues. You knew you were playing with even more fire by falling in love with a demon, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to worry or fear for your wellbeing. Somehow, you knew you were safe giving your heart to the demon.

You knew, somewhere deep down inside you, that you were meant to be with the Winter Soldier. Everything that had happened that night—the calling you’d felt to the church and the book and the spell—it had all been leading you to him and you weren’t going to ignore fate when it was making itself so clearly known. So you gave yourself freely to him. His kiss felt like accepting your fate and when he finally pulled away, gazing into your eyes with endless affection written plainly across his face, you knew you’d never regret it. 

With a newfound intensity settling over the both of you, your demon settled back against the rough stone wall, letting you take control of your pleasure as you rode him the best you could. It was difficult because of how wide his hips were, but he seemed to enjoy watching you struggle. You huffed and moaned, rising up and sinking back down on his massive cock, your ass slapping against his thick thighs, but you whined when you couldn’t go fast enough, your strength nothing compared to the Winter Soldier’s. 

Finally, he gave in and helped you, lifting you up and lowering you down on his cock until you could do nothing but shatter apart with your release. He grunted and spilled inside you, dumping even more of his seed into your womb. Before either of you could fully recover, the Winter Soldier picked you up and bent you over on your hands and knees, rutting into you until you came again, milking even more come from his balls. He growled praises in your ear all the while.

By the time you had to bid farewell to your demon, you were so sore and full of come, you knew you’d be feeling him for days. Even still, the thought of saying goodbye to the Winter Soldier filled you with sadness, not wanting to go back to your world, but knowing you couldn’t go with him to the underworld—he’d told you humans couldn’t survive in the toxic realm.   

The demon helped you back into your torn clothes as best he could, pulling the shreds of your sweater around your shoulders to hide your nakedness as much as possible. Your tail poked out from beneath the hem of your sweater, stroking against the demon’s while he gave you one last lingering kiss. With a reassuring smile and a reminder of what he’d whispered in your ear, the Winter Soldier stepped back into the summoning circle and disappeared in a plume of smoke.

When you finally tugged the door to the room open, you found Natasha asleep against the wall beside it, the pale violet light of sunrise spilling into the basement of the abandoned church. You shook your friend awake and helped her to stand, the two of you making your way out of the church and back to her car. 

As you settled into your seats, Natasha looked over at you, taking in your appearance for the first time. Her sharp green gaze took in your shredded clothes, the grin clinging to the edges of your mouth and the ancient tome you clutched to your chest. Thankfully, the tail and horns had already disappeared. 

Natasha heaved a huge sigh, shaking her head at you even as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “I take it you had fun with the demon you summoned,” she said teasingly. You could tell from the warmth in her tone that she was genuinely happy for you, even if she was a little annoyed she’d had to wait so long for you. 

“It was,” you said, buckling your seatbelt over the book so it was strapped to your chest. You clung to it tightly, knowing it was the key to seeing your demon again. Natasha eyed the book out of the corner of her eye as she began driving away from the church.

“Are you going to summon him again?” she asked when you didn’t elaborate on your time with the demon.

“Yep,” you answered simply, grinning at your friend. 

She laughed good-naturedly. “I guess that demon dick is out of this world then,” she quipped, shaking her head a little before cutting her eyes to you. “D’you think he has a demon friend for me?” she asked jokingly as she turned onto the road that would lead you both home to your shared apartment. 

Stroking the leather-bound tome idly, you smiled and stared out the windshield, already crafting a plan for the next time you’d be able to see your demon again. “I don’t know, but I can ask if you really want,” you said distractedly, watching the sun crest the horizon as Halloween dawned over Natasha’s car.

A short silence filled the vehicle, both of you thinking hard about what you wanted for your futures. “Let me think about it,” Nat said after a while. You hummed in acknowledgement, creating a list of what you needed and what you planned to do to achieve the future you wanted with the Winter Soldier.

-~-~-

One year later on the eve of the next Halloween, you stood in the basement of the home you’d purchased for this exact reason. In the months since you first summoned your demon, you’d repeated the spell as often as you could manage, having to return to the abandoned church to make use of the small room. The Winter Soldier would grin each time he’d see you, then proceed to fuck and defile you until you were both spent, before discussing your plans for your shared future.

While you’d enjoyed your nights with your demon, it was finally time for something more permanent. You’d spent the year practicing your witchcraft, reading through the book of spells, and using what the demon had told you that first night to craft a more permanent summoning spell. Excitement crackled through your nerves as you stood behind the lectern you’d taken from the church and set up in your basement beside the summoning circle you’d recreated.

When everything was ready, you started reading the latin of the spell you’d crafted from scratch, feeling the power of the magic flowing through you and swirling around the room with an unnatural wind. Smoke began to seep through your basement floor and, as you came to the conclusion of the spell, you used your demon’s true name—James Buchanan Barnes—to summon him one final time. The smoke filled the basement and then cleared, leaving your demon standing in the circle, a wide happy grin on his handsome face.

You abandoned the tome on the lectern and launched yourself into your demon’s arms. He caught you easily and lifted you off your feet, spinning you around in circles as you both laughed happily, the sounds filling your basement.

“Welcome home, Jamie,” you murmured into his neck. Your face was buried against his throat, inhaling the comforting and familiar scent of him.

“Thank you, little witch,” he whispered into the crown of your head, a rumbling purr sounding in his chest. As he stepped free of the summoning circle, your demon’s body began to change, shrinking and morphing into a more human-like appearance. 

You’d learned that demons possessed some shapeshifting magic, and Bucky had worked on strengthening his skill so he could pass for human for as long as he wanted. By the time he’d climbed the steps up from the basement, he was the same size as a tall human, his claws, horns, tail and blood-red skin having disappeared entirely. When you pulled back from your hug, he looked like a man—but he was still your Jamie. 

His sparkling gaze was your only warning before he swooped down and captured your lips in kiss. It turned heated quickly since both of you were excited to see the other. But before you got carried away and let Bucky fuck you on the floor of the kitchen, you insisted on giving him a tour of the house you’d bought for your life together. 

It turned out that Bucky had amassed a great deal of wealth in gold during his long life, and it had been more than enough for you to buy a cozy house. You hadn’t filled it with much beyond the essentials, and together you both talked excitedly about how you wanted to decorate your home.

Once you reached the second floor, you led him to an empty room down the hall from the master bedroom. You stood in the doorway, with Bucky behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin resting on the crown of your head while you rattled off all the ways you could use the room, like as an office or a library. 

“I think this would be the perfect room for our child, don’t you, little witch?” he asked once you’d finished, somehow knowing what you really wanted to use the room for, even as you’d skipped over it. Of course, Bucky knew. He always knew. 

You looked up over your shoulder at your demon from under your lashes, giving him a shy smile. “It would be a perfect bedroom for a child,” you agreed. Bucky squeezed you in his arms and stole a quick kiss.

He lingered with his nose brushing teasingly against yours, his breath ghosting over your lips. “Can’t wait to fill this house with our hellspawn, little witch,” he murmured, his voice low and sweet. 

In your chest, your heart raced excitedly, your slit going damp between your thighs. “Let’s start tonight, Jamie,” you said eagerly, rising up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. 

Bucky rumbled a pleased growl, then spun you in his arms and ducked to toss you easily over his shoulder. “You know I’m always more than happy to oblige you, little witch,” he rumbled, laughter in his voice. You squealed as he prowled down the hall to your bedroom, morphing back into his demon form. He threw you onto the massive king-size bed then made quick work of closing the blinds and blackout curtains, ensuring no nosy neighbors would be able to see you being fucked by Bucky in his true, monstrous form. 

You stripped off your clothes and lay on the bed, your thighs spread wide for your demon. Your hand trailed down between your legs, shoving three fingers into your sopping wet hole and getting a head start on preparing your tight pussy for his massive cock. No matter how many times you fucked your demon, you were still so tight it made both your heads spin when he pushed inside you.

Looming at the foot of the bed, Bucky grinned wickedly down at you, his glittering blue eyes raking over your naked body. He pumped his cock in one hand, climbing onto the bed and moving to cover your much smaller body. When he was close enough, you reached for his cock, collecting the first bead of his precum with your finger and bringing it to your mouth. You moaned as you felt the tingling begin, your demon’s come working its magic on your body.

“Jamie, please, I need you,” you whined when you’d pulled your fingers from your mouth. He chuckled, pushing your hand from between your thighs and replacing your fingers with three of his own. You whimpered at the stretch, your hips rising to meet the shallow thrusts of his hand.

“I’ll never get enough of this perfect cunt, little witch,” Jamie growled as he worked your pussy open as quickly as he could manage. He knew your body so well by that point that he knew exactly how to stretch you with his fingers and get you ready for his cock. It wasn’t long before you were writhing and begging for him, but he wouldn’t relent just yet. “Tell me who you belong to, tell me who owns your cunt, your heart, your soul,” he demanded in a rough growl.

“You, Jamie,” you cried obediently, but when he only pounded into you harder with his fingers, you knew what he really wanted. “I belong to James Buchanan Barnes—my heart, my soul, my cunt is yours, master!” The words flew from your lips easily because you knew they were absolutely true. 

Bucky hummed a pleased sound, removing his fingers from your cunt and pressing the tip of his cock to your dripping hole. “So good for me, little witch, the perfect pet—the perfect mate,” he praised, pushing his cock into you as fast as he could. You moaned and clung to his massive form, eyes rolling back in your head. He grinned down as he watched pleasure contort your face. 

“Jamie—master, please,” you cried, wanting more of his cock buried inside you. As he always did, Bucky obliged you, working his cock into your cunt until you felt like you were being split open by his thick length. When he was fully sheathed inside you, you both breathed a sigh of happy relief. “S’good, Jamie, s’good,” you slurred, your mind lost to the pleasure as you lay limply beneath Bucky, ready to be used as his perfect little toy.

“My little witch,” he rumbled, affection and love clear in his voice. You mewled as he pulled out of your tight channel, making him chuckle at your pathetic little sound. He shoved back inside, spearing you with his monstrous cock and wrenching a piercing cry from your lips. 

Bucky fucked you so perfectly you could cry at how fulfilled you felt. After a year of only seeing his sporadically, your feelings for him growing just as much as his did for you, it was wonderful to finally have him and know there was no limit on your time together. You were finally truly together and you were excited to make the most of it.

You and your demon settled into a rhythm, his cock pounding you perfectly, and you couldn’t wait for Bucky to fuck you through the night. You wanted him to fuck you until you passed out with exhaustion and then wake up to him fucking you until your belly was bloated with his come and you were sure his seed would take in your womb.

Brushing a kiss to your forehead, you could feel the smile on Bucky’s lips as he fucked you brutally into the bed, huffing a laugh as you whined and writhed beneath him so perfectly. In a teasing tone, he rumbled, “Aren’t you glad you read the latin?” 

That made you grin wildly, staring up at your demon with love in your eyes, seeing it reflected in his own blue gaze, and you nodded, the both of you smiling happily as you clung to your demon while he fucked you in the home you’d spend the rest of your lives in together. You knew it would be a home filled with love and laughter as your family grew to include more than the two of you. 

Yes, you were certainly very glad you ignored Natasha’s warning on that Halloween eve and read the latin since it had led you to your happily ever after with your demon.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #smut #demon!bucky #demon!bucky x reader

[fanficsonthebrain]

Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering. 

-

Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard. 

Keep reading

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #ceo!bucky

[fanficsonthebrain]

missing you

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. fluff. unprotected sex. mention of stretch marks. & just like the teeny tiniest bit of angst.

words: 2.2k

notes: this is me trying to decompress after an absolute abysmal week. enjoy.

thank you in advance for reading and reblogging. feedback and comments are always welcome and so appreciated. 🩵

Your back aches as you trudge into your room, passing your roommate sitting in the living room on your way inside without a word before hiding yourself away.

You toe off your shoes and throw your bag on the futon, then toss your phone on the bed.

Your room is dark, the only hint of light is the glow of your television you’d forgotten to turn off before leaving for work this morning.

You don’t bother with the light as you rid yourself of your jeans.

All you want in this moment… all you want is to be held.

Your body is worn and you are just so. damn. tired.

You get into bed and bury your face in the pillows as you feel your eyes start to well with the emotions you’ve been trying to brush off all week. It’s all catching up to you and you know you need the release, so instead of fighting off the tears you allow them to flow unbidden. You can’t pinpoint one exact thing that has you feeling so lousy and that feels even worse. But you know it’s really not that complicated. You’re just tired. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.

You have nothing else to give and you know no one has anything to offer right now.

So you’ll just lie here. For as long as you want to, for as long as you can. You’ll cry, you’ll watch some tv, you’ll sleep, and all the while you’ll be missing the one person who would be able to make you feel even the slightest bit better.

You let the tears flow, muffling your cries into your pillow as your thoughts float to him, your heart desperately longing for him.

You wish he was here. More than anything.

You were already exhausted and the crying only added to your tiredness. You were soon sleeping with your body pressed against the cool wall next to your bed, your body pillow in between as you fell swiftly into a deep sleep.

There's a heavy weight around you as you murmur groggily and try to roll over, to no avail.

You blink your eyes open to the darkness that shrouds your room as you try to gain your bearings.

What the hell is going on?

It's not till you move your arm that you brush against the heavy weight keeping you in place.

You know it's him instantly. The warmth of his body hugging yours is all at once familiar and comforting.

You run your thumb soothingly up and down the part of his arm your hand rests on as you hum contentedly, your eyes shutting on their own.

You recognize his legs tangled with your as you both lay on your sides, your back to his firm chest.

There's a purr that sounds from Bucky's chest before he tightens his arm around you, keeping you close. "Hey, sweetheart," he whispers sleepily in your ear as he nuzzles into you.

You smile into the dark as you lean back into him. His large hand is splayed over your tummy and he lets his fingers drag back and forth over your softness, tickling you a bit as he does.

His fingers dance over some of your stretch marks as he continues his languid touching.

"You're here," you whisper back quietly with a small, sleepy smile, knowing he can hear you just fine. "I thought you said next week,"

"Got back early," he responds, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. "Wanted to surprise you. Your roommate let me in. I don't think either of us were expecting you to be asleep at 8pm on a Friday," he laughs softly, though you can hear the hint of concern and care that laces his voice - you can feel it in his gentle touch and protective hold. You can feel his love in all of it, too. He'd only been gone a week, but it was still too long. You've missed this so much; you've missed him.

"Tired," you murmur, not wanting to get into the details of your week right now, or what the real reason you were dead to the world so early tonight was. You simply wanted to just be there with him. To feel him.

He presses his lips to your temple sweetly before mumbling a soft "okay," against your skin. Letting it go for now.

"Tomorrow," he adds just loud enough so he knows you hear him.

You reach your hand up and brush his face clumsily before your fingers find their way into his hair, threading through the long dark strands. He lets you lead his face closer to yours as he leans into you. He can see better than you can in the dark and easily finds your lips, knowing that's what you were wanting.

You wiggle up against him to meet him in the kiss and he can't help the soft moan that slips past his lips as your ass brushes against him.

You tug on his hair ever so gently, teasingly as he kisses you again, deeper this time. His hand is gripping your hip tighter now as you press yourself more firmly to him.

It's then you realize Bucky has been sleeping next to you in nothing but his boxers while you're in nothing but a thong and your bra.

"Missed you," you mutter against his lips. You let go of his hair and slip your hand back down while you turn back facing the wall once more. You adjust your position, your ass flush to his half hard cock that's growing in his boxers, before tilting your head back on his chest. "Need you," you whisper breathily.

Bucky already has one leg between yours, but he decides to move back to get his boxers completely off before he pulls your sky blue thong down your thick thighs. Both pairs of underwear are tossed to the floor as he gets back to you, snuggling up to you as he places kisses all over your shoulder, up your neck, to your cheek.

You sigh as you feel his erection against your ass and bend your top leg up while jutting your bottom leg back, opening yourself up for him.

Bucky grips his stiff cock in his flesh hand before guiding his tip to your slick entrance, already so wet for him.

You moan softly in tandem as he presses just into you, stilling as your walls throb around his thick, bulbous head. He grunts quietly, knowing you have to keep your voices down. He restrains himself and makes a mental note to take you back to his place first thing in the morning. Soon as he gets the copy of his key he's been waiting on, he's hoping you'll say yes when he asks you to move in and you'll never have to stifle those pretty little noises you always make for him ever again.

He slowly pushes into you, deeper, and deeper. He's taking his time as you squeeze him desperately, making sure you feel each and every inch of him inside of you.

When Bucky is seated fully in your tight pussy, he slowly, achingly slowly, slides right back out of you. Not fully though, as his tip stays nestled inside your warmth before he slides back in, rubbing and rutting against you perfectly and hitting that special spot just right, over and over again as he fucks you nice and slow and deep.

It's so nice.. it feels so. fucking. good. Tears spring to your eyes at the compounding feelings. Bucky is making you feel incredible, and you've missed him so much, and you just never want this to end.

When his cock is deep inside of you again, you touch back your hand to his hip as his pelvis is flush to your ass and urge him to move faster. He pulls out slightly before he fucks back into you harder, the soft slapping of his skin against yours is all that can be heard as you stifle your moans and whimpers with your hand over your mouth and he bites into his lip, breathing out through his nose with his labored breaths.

He slams into you more and more forcefully as his hand crawls down your stomach, down your pelvis and his fingers find your sensitive clit while his heavy balls slap against you with his every thrust, turning you on even more. He rubs at you gently, teasingly, at first before he circles your clit with perfect pressure as you gasp sharply, and your walls tighten around his cock even more.

Bucky is chasing your highs as he doesn't let up for a second. You know he's close by how desperate he's getting, and it only gets you closer. Faster, harder, more erratic as he loses his rhythm slightly..

Another slam of his hips and a guttural moan that slips past his defenses as he hits you just right has your whole body suddenly tensing and your toes curling as your legs shake from the white-hot pleasure that shoots through you in waves of cascading, overwhelming ecstasy. You don't make a sound as you're hardly breathing through the mind-blowing orgasm, made all the better as you feel Bucky still when he buries himself fully in your cunt and releases inside of you, his cum shooting along your walls and filling you up. You're dripping his seed as he thrusts a few more times, the wet squelching has you hot all over as he fucks it back into you.

"Fuck," he breathes, sounding surprised with himself. "You're gonna be leaking me for days, princess," he speaks hotly into your ear before he brushes his lips along your soft cheek. "And you took it so well." Another kiss. "You always take me so well," he says proudly with the corner of his lips up twitched in a smirk. Another kiss as his hand returns to your hip and he rubs you lovingly.

"You feel so good, I just wanna stay here," he punctuates with a soft thrust of his cock along your still sensitive walls.

You mewl quietly at the feeling and at the thought of him staying exactly where he is. He's right, it feels good. You'll never get over how amazing it is, how perfect it feels to be full of him. You love it.

"Then stay like this," you say, though it comes out like a plea as you pull his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers as you rest them on your tummy.

"Yeah?" he asks. "You wanna keep me warm? Missed me that much?" he teases playfully as he holds you close.

"I always miss you," you tell him. "Anytime you're away, I'm missing you. More than you could ever imagine."

Bucky feels like mush at your words, cuddling you tighter as a tension he'd been carrying since last week somehow eases at your reassurance. That you did miss him. That you do want him. That you do love him.

He feels like the luckiest man in the world to have your affection, and your heart. Every time he leaves you, he leaves a piece of himself with you. And he never feels quite whole until he's with you again. Especially like this. With you in his arms, your hand in his, in peace. Loving, blissful, peace.

"I'm always missing you right back," he whispers before kissing your head softly. "I love you."

"I love you. more than anything."

"More than everything," he responds as he feels your breathing changing with your sleepiness.

He smiles to himself, almost can't believe how easily you're about to fall asleep as his cock is still nestled snug along your velvety walls.

"Sleep, doll. I'll be right here in the morning. Pack some stuff and we can have the weekend to ourselves at my place, yeah?"

"Yeah," you smile sleepily. "That's perfect," you nearly slur, the words heavy on your tongue as you speak them. “‘M so glad you’re here, Buck.”

Bucky waits until he's sure you're asleep again to pull out of you, as carefully as he can manage.

As hot as the sight is, he doesn't want you to wake up in an uncomfortable sticky mess. He makes his way quietly to the bathroom where he relieves himself before cleaning up, then returns to you to clean you up, too.

He wipes away his spend and the cooling mess of your combined releases along your skin before placing soft kisses along your thighs, trailing his lips lightly over your plump cheeks, then along you hip before trialing them up your side, his fingers following suit as he sidles his body up behind you, returning his hold on you once more. Your bodies are flush as he keeps you close. He'll never get over how soft you are, how perfect you feel in his arms, beneath his touch.

You're everything he's ever wanted, everything he's ever dreamed of. And the fact that you return his feelings, that you love him, it means everything. You haven't even been together for a year yet, but as he gazes down at your beautiful sleeping form through the dark of the room, Bucky just knows it.

He's gonna spend the rest of his life loving you. If he's lucky enough, he'll get to spend all that time with you, too.

And he can’t wait.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x plus size!reader #Smut #bucky barnes

[fanficsonthebrain]

Touch Starved Bucky:

Once Bucky has you, he has you

He’s not letting go of you — literally

Constantly needing to be touching you

He’d always be holding your hand or gently rubbing the pads of his fingers against your arms, legs, etc

He’s a sucker for platonic touch

Hugging you from behind when you’re in the kitchen cooking

Pulling your feet into his lap on the couch

Whenever he needs grounding he pulls you literally on top of him and you lay down like that forever

No, you won’t squash him he’s literally a super soldier

He can’t get over finding different ways to show you he loves you

Forehead kisses

Cheek kisses

Playing with your fingers

Raking his fingers through your hair / or playing with the curls

Resting his head on top of yours when you’re hugging

At first only using his real arm but after you make it obvious that you love being touched with both he never stops

Being in awe of how trusting you are when touching his arm

He’s not used to having physical touch so available to him so he gets overexcited when you two begin officially dating

None of the Avengers expect to see one of you without the other close behind

After he first month of dating, Bucky begins to worry that he’s too much — that you’ll get annoyed with his constant craving for your touch

You don’t, but he doesn’t know that

He begins to pull back and you think you’ve done something to upset him

Once you pry his reasoning out of him (he could never truly lie to you), he realised he’s been an idiot

Because you crave his touch just as much as he craves yours <3

#Bucky barnes #bucky x reader

[fanficsonthebrain]

Sadistic- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader, other characters make an appearance but it’s mainly natasha romanoff Warnings: mean bucky kind of, mutual pining, teasing, reader being flustered, super projection of my obsession with peanuts right now About: request! Bucky and reader didn’t get along and then bucky discovers she has a sensitive neck and basically uses it against her.

​​Bucky notices you before he sees you.

You’re hidden behind the kitchen island with your legs crossed beneath you and your fingertips grazing the tiles, the few stray strands of hair peeking past the granite of the counter giving you away.

He contemplates turning back nearly immediately, your presence pushing him out of a room as much as it is pulling him in, but it’s sheer greed that makes him lean on his feet, standing at a subtle angle to get even a brief look at you.

Your eyes are glassy and unfocused when he meets them, puckering aimlessly with the arrival of a crease between your brows. He shifts awkwardly in the entrance of the common room, watching you cautiously.

You don’t seem to notice his attention at all, eerily still and uncharacteristically distracted. Bucky should clear his throat, ask if you’re okay, but he hasn’t said something so kind to you in a while, and he’s unwilling to do so now.

What he should do, grounded in stupid values and teenage pride, is set his shoulders, stop squinting to see the outline of your lashes, and push past you to get to the fridge. You’re the one on the ground. He’s an innocent, thirsty bystander who has been looking forward to the cucumber water in the fridge all day.

He pauses, moves his limbs a little to see if you notice. If you do, maybe you’ll push yourself away from smack-dab middle, or maybe your eyes will widen in that sweet, apologetic way they do, where your lashes pinch at the corners in guilt, voice starting in an excuse he’ll scowl at, forcing yours to twist down wrongly at his reaction.

He can admit he’s selfish when you don’t waver and he stays put. Crassly, he leans against the wall and lets his pupils drag down your profile. He flushes immediately with heat and wishes you would rise to your feet and scold him for staring. He isn’t sure what sick part of him would like that most.

But you stay like that for a while, and when you do notice him, it’s an entirely underwhelming consequence. Your shoulders jump only barely and you offer him a vacant blink.

“Hey, Bucky.”

Your voice is quieter than usual but just as sordidly kind.

He grunts in response, setting his attention away from you and pretending like it was never there to start. You shift away when he steps in front of you, narrowly missing your nail. You frown down at your hands, glancing up at Bucky’s back.

He hears you stand, the soft sound your fingers make against the cupboard and the inhale you take. You twist your mouth and squeeze your fingers, eyes on him from your distance. He doesn’t turn to you.

“What’re you looking for?” you ask after a few seconds.

“Water.”

“Water,” you repeat. “The cucumber one? I’m so sorry, I just grabbed the last bit.”

He makes a low noise, shutting the refrigerator. “It’s fine.”

“No, no,” you argue, turning around to pull a mug from behind the fruit bowl. It’s chipped at the rim, with a pale yellow handle and thin vertical indents around its body. A bumpy orange mushroom is embossed over green blades of grass. You hook your middle and index fingers through the handle and hold it out to him expectantly. “You can have it.”

Bucky shifts on his feet, hands down at his sides. He wants to start kindly. “No.”

You blink at him. “Are… are you sure? I don’t think you’ve had very much. I haven’t drank from it at all, I promise. I just poured it before I…”

Bucky thinks he should ask. “‘M sure.”

You nod slowly, setting the mug down. There’s something hesitant and wanting over your features, a small crease back between your brows. “Okay then.” You offer him a smile, a little awkward but nonetheless pretty. He needs to go. “I can bring you some more? I usually buy it from this little vendor on Saturday, but I can make an early stop.”

“That’s okay.”

You chew on your cheek. “Maybe you want to go with me?”

He freezes. “What?”

You take in a big gulp of air, shoulders pushed back gently. “I feel like…” You chew your lip, mulling. Your eyes twinkle sadly. “We don’t really spend too much time together. And I’d like to.”

Bucky can feel heat creep awfully up his neck, a stabbing warmth in his chest. He needs to reject you right now.

You seem to read his mind, stepping backward and bumping into the counter. “You don’t have to—” You stumble over your feet in your efforts to give him space.

His hands shoot out to wrap around your forearms, pulling you upright. Your eyes are rounded, mouth still caught in an assurance, warm fingers twisted below his wrists to hook loosely on the hill of his pisiform.

He swallows, stepping back like your touch burned him. “No thanks.”

You frown, not wanting to push but feeling like you need to. You swallow the step he’d put between you. “Please? I promise I’ll make it fun. There are a lot of things there, maybe you could find Steve’s birthday gift.”

Bucky inhales shortly. “I got it already.”

He begins to sidestep you, a scorching buzzing he never realized was prickling beneath his skin finally beginning to ease. You grasp his arm and it peaks so high, he stops breathing for a second. The twinkle has come back, more melancholy than he remembered. Your lips pucker, eyebrows edging down. “Do you not like me?”

Bucky pauses, overwhelmed by the heat of your fingers. “What?”

Your teeth dig into your lip, thumb beginning to rap against the flat edge of his palm. He blinks. “You don’t seem to like me very much. Which is fine—I just… did I do something wrong?” Your voice closes on a mournful crest, features already sorry as your fingers continue their frantic dance on his skin. “I didn’t mean to.”

“No. Why would you think that?”

You frown. “You never talk to me unless you have to, you leave the room the moment I come in.”

“That’s not true.”

You cock your head at him, a little exasperated. “Bucky.”

“Fine.” He sighs, meeting eyes with your concern again. A beat passes. “Let’s go,” he says.

Your face lights up, although hesitant. “Really? Honest, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Really. Maybe I’ll get something else for Steve.”

You bounce gently on the balls of your feet, fingers looping tightly around his wrist. “Thank you. We’ll have fun, I promise.”

“Sure,” he says, rubbing the slope of his nose when you finally step back with a pretty smile. His wrist burns delightfully; he has to hold himself back from prodding at it with his fingers.

You stare at him for another second, eyes crinkling at their edges. “I’ll be right back. We’ll leave in ten minutes, is that okay?”

“Sure,” he repeats, watching you bound toward the elevator. Your lips are pinched tightly when you turn around, the bubbled highs of your cheeks betraying what you try to smother. 

When the elevator doors shut, he lets his eyes fall closed, dropping his head onto one hand. His pointer finger brushes against the skin you’d held, eliciting a lovely glittering where you’d rubbed the pads of your fingers.

His elbow bumps into something cold and fragile, which he looks down to see is your mug, quietly inched closer to him. Hesitantly, he loops a finger around the handle, lifting the smooth edge up to his mouth. You were right, the water is fresh and sweet.

He falls into the couch disappointedly to wait for you, letting his head tilt back and attention rest on the ceiling. His index strokes the handle with wobbly, hesitant lines, running over the movements of your own fingers in the bumps and ridges of the mug. Your ownership is painfully present, predictably foreign on Bucky’s tongue, yet not at all wrong where he has felt it most.

It’s not what Bucky expected.

He puts it down on the table, hoping the delicate circular teetering grounds him. It doesn’t.

-

You’re frantic when you push the door to your room open, entirely crammed with worries.

Your hair has refused to cooperate all morning, the shirt you’d pulled on has a tiny hole you hope Bucky didn’t notice, and your pants are a size too big, the stretchy bottom part of the left leg pulled up to the thick of your calf.

You try to remember whether or not you washed your nice jeans the day before, fingers deftly pushing away hangers and leaving only an ugly screeching sound that you can’t bother to notice. 

You don’t think Bucky likes you. In the decent amount of time you’d known him—a fraction of it with a word count—you had, at the very least, been reassured that he didn’t hate you. Bucky doesn’t seem to spend too much time hating in the icky, false sense of the word, not when he has so many possible receptors with real and raw reasoning.

You hold a shirt up to the light like it’ll help determine Bucky’s thoughts about it. Would he have any?

You shove the shirt back inside your closet and pull another off the hanger, stretching out the collar irresponsibly. Bucky seems to wear a lot of red. Is it because he likes it or has someone commented on how much it brings out his eyes?

You don’t think Bucky likes you. You’re determined to get him to.

He was wearing something red today. You pull on a pretty vermillion blouse with wide sleeves and a high neckline and try not to feel silly. Your foot taps nervously against the floor as you try to decide on earrings, taking a glance along the rows you have before you crouch down to pull on your shoes, browsing the image you’d caught in your mind. 

When you straighten, it feels as if entirely too much time has passed by, your head leady, vision thinned briefly. You decide on the Snoopy earrings you’d bought last week. Tiny, crescent-eyed Woodstock goes on your left ear and tiny, lovesick Snoopy goes on your right. He must know them, right?

You don’t look in the mirror before you leave, too confident that your reflection would send you tumbling back into your closet, slipping your choice off your earlobes. Your forefinger hooks on the bottom of your shirt, tugging down as you watch yourself in the closed doors of the elevator.

Slowly, you inhale. Exhale. Realize you’d closed your eyes and the doors are now open.

The pads of your fingers meet Snoopy’s small clay-lump-legs and you remember that you’re being ridiculous.

Calmer now, you prance over to Bucky, blinking at his shut eyes, body leant against the couch.

“Bucky?” you call. You bend at the waist, searching for a sign of life until your nose is very, very close to his. “Are you okay?” you whisper, unsure why.

Bucky startles anyway, meeting your fresher face. He has thoughts on the shirt.

He clears his throat. “Fine.”

You pull back, crossing your arms. “Did I make you wait long?” you stress, watching him get to his feet.

“No.”

You want to make a joke. You know what Sam would do—poke at his age, ask if the century was finally catching up. You contemplate it too long.

Bucky eyes the bag hanging from the crook of your elbow. You tilt it inconspicuously, flashing stupid buttons and silly pins. Bucky clears his throat. “Should we go?”

“Yes,” you say hurriedly, following after him as he heads to the elevator. It’s silent inside and all the way to the car, where you exchange a stilted smile for a glance when you plug in your phone with the address.

Your thigh shakes the entire ride, slowing momentarily for awkward, brief conversations when the silence gets too unbearable. You think about comfortable silence and how this is not it, icky regret crawling up your throat. You feel sticky and stupid.

“I like your earrings,” Bucky says unprompted. You’re too surprised to do much else than stare, thanking him after too long.

“You like Snoopy?”

He nods. You contemplate more questions, but he seems satisfied with his contribution.

You stare down at your bag the rest of the time, a finger tracing a big, glittery button from a goose race you never went to.

Bucky’s presence is too professional at the stands. He handles himself overly bodyguard-like around you, watching you pick things up with care and interact with vendors from just next to the tents. Rarely does he touch something himself.

You fiddle with a small notebook, catching his eye. You smile when he reads your mind, stepping over to your side to see over your shoulder. Half of his body is close enough to pull sparks from your opposite side. You try your best to concentrate.

“Steve,” you explain, twisting the little sketchbook around. He hums, the noise accompanied by a warm puff of air against the thin skin of your neck. You still completely, goosebumps rising immediately. You pray he doesn’t notice.

Of course Bucky does. He watches your chest still and can’t help the rise of the left edge of his lip. Experimentally, he blows a soft line along your neck.

You flinch, fingers going slack. Bucky reaches for the book before it can thump on the table, his eyes crinkled. You’re too distracted to notice the amusement on his face.

He hums. “That’s a good choice for Stevie.”

“Y-yeah.” You clear your throat, taking a step back but bumping into him. Your skin is delightfully warm even through his jacket, sharp tingles only tendered by your sweet chagrin.

Graciously, he steps aside, meeting your eyes and raising the book between his index and middle fingers. The buttons of the bag hanging off his wrist sparkle in the sunlight. He smiles, suddenly a lot less hesitant than this morning. “Found my present.”

You nod, leaving him to pay as you raise your hand to your collarbone, the pads of your fingers brushing over the goosebumps above the collar of your shirt.

You shiver again and wonder.

-

You’re anxious for more.

Bucky’s interactions with you are usually dismally brief. He says hi when you prompt him, returns tight smiles, and indulges your questions using as few words as possible. Last time, it was ten. The time before, five. Your peak is sixteen.

On the next movie night, you come downstairs half an hour before and claim a doughy two-person couch, sprawling a silky blanket over one side. You pop two bags of popcorn and stress that you made them too early, overcompensating with a variety of candy. It’s spread out with great care, the cushions adjusted, the furniture itself repositioned.

You sit on your side and pretend you’ve only just come when Sam heads into the living room, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What’s all this?” he asks, stealing a handful of popcorn. 

“Nothing,” you say, shifting as he pokes around your stash. Footsteps. “Go over there,”

“What?”

“Bucky won’t come over here if you’re standing there.”

Sam cocks his head. “Ohh, Bucky huh?”

“Go!” you urge, heat up to your ears when he satiates you, hands up in surrender as he walks away.

More Avengers filter in, at the very end Bucky. Your friends have decided to appease you today, occupying every space except the one by your side. Your leg bounces with anticipation.

Bucky looks at you, noticing everything you’ve done, and blinks away when you smile at him. Your shoulders sag, lips pursed achingly.

“You can sit here. If you want,” you say. “I got you some candy. I’ve seen you eating it before, and I thought you… you might like it.”

It’s a slim moment—but a moment nonetheless—before he answers. “Okay. Thank you. I’m gonna get a drink before the movie.”

“I’ll go with you,” you pipe up, a few of the others joining you to pour sodas and chips into bowls.

You’re reaching for a glass when you feel him behind you, stretching for another.

You shiver when you feel air against the nape of your neck, knee knocking loudly into the counter.

He’s away from you before you can process it was him, innocuously pulling open a drawer.

Everyone meets your eye questioningly. “You okay?” Natasha asks.

You nod, pupils flickering to Bucky, who would seem entirely innocent if his irises weren’t so glittered with mirth.

You frown at him, confused when he’s completely unchanged, simply walking beside you back to his seat.

You split your attention between the movie and Bucky’s face for the first hour, realizing you should never have let it stray when he reaches for his glass of water and brushes a very warm finger right below your jaw.

You stare at him perplexedly, his features outlined by the flickering light of the television.

“Butter,” he lies, shrugging. Then, he turns back to the movie and ignores you for the rest of the night. You can’t remember the name of the movie by the next day.

-

The round tip of your little finger aches with a small papercut.

The paperwork piled up at the edge of your desk mocks your wound, edged paper corners peeking out as if a warning.

You watch wine bubble, a fat drop beginning to edge closer to the crevice between nail and skin. Holding back an urge to shove your finger into your mouth, you clasp a tissue with your other hand, wrapping it tightly around your wounded finger.

You blow a gentle raspberry and lean back in your seat; a silent resignation: the paperwork wins.

Natasha meets your eye from the couch across the hall, appearing to read your mind in the sharp way she can do. She frowns, an exaggerated pull to her lips, falsely thinned eyes glaring. She crosses her arms and puffs her chest out, shaking her head in a distinct disappointment.

You stifle a laugh and present your injury to her.

Her lips part in overt understanding, nodding slowly. Poor baby, she mouths.

Poor baby, you agree, cradling your hand.

She laughs, standing up to walk toward you. When she gets to you, she picks up a pen off your desk, squinting at the words peeking out beneath the covers.

“This is from two months ago,” she says unhelpfully, tapping it with your pen.

“That’s not even the oldest one there,” you deplore, letting your head drop on your desk with a mournful sigh.

“Why do you insist on falling behind?” she tuts.

“I’m hurt!” you insist, pushing your finger toward her. She cocks her head at you but cradles your hand. “Every time I try, it’s like it fights back!”

“If you need help…” Natasha mutters something in Russian and brushes her lips against your pinky, making you smile.

You simper. “Did you just heal me?”

“No. I cursed you for being lazy.”

You frown, taking back your hand to hold it against your chest. “I’m good,” you say, responding to her earlier offer. You heave a big sigh. “Thank you, though. Evil woman.”

She smiles at you, shaking her head when she sees your opposite fingers wrapping around your injured one. “You like to suffer.”

“How dare you,” you mumble, urging another bloody bead to form.

“Deviant,” she claims, walking away.

You don’t look up to blow a raspberry at her, dragging your nail up your skin until a thicker drop forms.

It’s a fairly challenging game you have going on, making your bead grow while trying to keep it plump and steady on the tip of your little finger.

If you breathe a little too hard, it wobbles, and you clamp your lips closed, holding your breath and freezing entirely for a few seconds until it’s still again.

It’s a concentration game. And Bucky takes advantage of it.

You press the indent between your bones gently, immersed enough to only recognize his presence when he begins to speak.

“Don’t do that,” he condemns, suddenly right behind you. He must be bent over, lips a millimeter away from the curve of your neck for you to feel every intricate vibration of each word he says. You flinch immediately, an already hot cheekbone bumping against his chin.

When you catch sight of him, he’s already straightened, perfectly calm.

“What?” you croak, warm fingers against the warmer skin below your earlobe.

“You cut yourself,” he says.

“Uh huh.”

“Why are you making it worse?”

“I… I’m not.”

His face stains only lightly in dissent, dissolving like a single droplet of color in an ocean of clear.

He doesn’t respond audibly, only shrugging and walking away. You only realize he’d pressed a clean, colorful band-aid on your desk after he’s out of the office.

There’s a streak of cherry red along your finger when you finally look down, only observing its head create a fat scarlet stain on your sleeve. You curse Bucky and the goosebumps still high on your skin.

-

You suspect Bucky to be somewhat of a sadist.

He doesn’t seem to mind the effect he’s carved into you, nearly reveling in it as if your embarrassment were some sort of thrill. You find yourself shivering prematurely the moment he steps foot in a room, the sight of him accompanied by the imminent line of ice along sensitive skin.

He’ll embarrass you wherever. Make you choke on your tea right before a meeting, burn yourself on a fresh tray of cookies, trip over shoes, and crash into walls. And he’ll watch you, lousily stifling a smile before tending to whatever he’d caused as if he wasn’t at fault for it.

Guiltily, you yearn for the roles to reverse. Or for yours to lessen. 

Slumped on the couch in the living room with a bowl of oily popcorn, you contemplate your situation with Snoopy.

All you had wanted was a sign further than acknowledgement. Something realer than his bitter, thin smile, maybe one of the laughs you’d been so eager to hear in real life. At the most, a purposeful touch; still kind, still real, probably brief. But what you’ve gotten surpasses what you’d initially desired in delightfully awful ways.

When you think about it, your situation doesn’t seem too fat with issue. You can’t recall a substantial conversation with Bucky, but you can remember with perfect clarity how warm his lips are from a millimeter away. It brings up the contemplation on whether or not it’s an actual issue to begin with.

You’re tempted to ignore it. You’re very, very tempted to let him continue his cruel attentions and let yourself become further putty in his presence.

What would you even do? You can’t see yourself pulling him forward by the collar—to make a point, of course, not to brush your fingers against his own neck to see him shudder—to look him in the eyes while telling him that you know what he’s doing. Especially when you don’t. Primarily when you aren’t sure what the point of the conversation would be—to tell him to stop? You aren’t sure you want him to.

It’s easier to push it aside and let him torture you. Maybe you’ll become impervious to Bucky Barnes’ bullying.

You push yourself straighter and let your head fall back, listening to Charlie Brown’s mournful voiceover.

“What if everyone was like you? What if we all ran away from our problems? Huh? What then? What if everyone in the whole world suddenly decided to run away from his problems?”

Your eyes pop open with a startled frown, watching his cartoon throw his little arms up and sigh.

Linus appears, but you don’t listen to his words, letting the fleshy part of your palm support your chin. The pads of your fingers float up to the space behind your ears, and you feel yourself flush immediately with recognition. Bucky is a sadist, sure. But you’re a masochist. 

With a dejected huff, you let your hands drop to the popcorn. 

It’s not even a full episode past when something shifts. You frown, covertly examining your surroundings with edged brows.

Two hands form deep clefts in cushions on either side of you, body heat sticky against the skin it can touch.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks quietly, lips so close to your ear you can feel the echo of their movements. His breath prickles your neck.

“Um…” You struggle to respond, your tongue suddenly too dry. In the background, Lucy shouts something. It sends the dumbest feeling into your chest. Charlie Brown is right.

You gather up all the courage inside of you, rolling it up into the tightest and biggest little ball you can, and snap your neck to the side, catching his gaze before he can move in surprise.

You’re closer than you thought you’d be. You can see all the pretty little details of his face, the way his pupils eat the lovely blue of his irises and how high his Adam's apple bobs.

“What’s wrong?” you echo gently, sweetly mocking.

He stammers, charcoal lashes fluttering.

You hum, examining his face one last time before hopping off the couch to go to the kitchen, leaving him slumped over the couch, dazed.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Fluff

[fanficsonthebrain]

What's up, Buck?

AN: And another late answer to an ask! Hahahaha. Thank you for the thot, Em. He looks so grumpy here!

Unbeta'd ficlet ahoy!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

CW: Antagonistic work colleagues to lovers, Grumpy Bucky, Canon typical violence, confessions of feelings, idiots in lust, kissing, implied future smut.

“What’s up, Buck?” You called out with a smile as you passed the metallic staring machine in the corridor. He didn’t answer you. He never did. Just flared his nostrils and kept on staring, while you kept on walking.

“What’s up, Buck?” You gave him a jovial shoulder bump as you found him in the communal lounge-slash-kitchen, holding a bowl of cheerios and milk in his left hand and shovelling it into his mouth with the spoon in his right. He scowled as some of the milk sloshed, but said nothing.

“What’s up, Buck?” You gave him a wave as you strode onto the quinjet, passing where he and Steve were sitting sorting out their equipment, as you followed Nat to the cockpit. He tossed his knife over and over in his hand, glaring at you, but as usual, stayed silent.

“Quit bugging him,” Nat chided.

“But he’s gotta answer me sometime. How many missions can we get through where he doesn’t even exchange a single word with me? I’m determined to get him to say something, even if it’s just ‘fuck off’ or ‘shut the fuck up’. It’s not normal, Nat.”

“Yasha isn’t normal, скворец. Who would be after everything he’s been through?

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right…it’s just that I get on with everyone, Natty. I don’t know why he’s so grumpy with me.”

“He just doesn’t know you yet. It’s gonna take him a while to warm up. If you haven’t noticed he doesn’t really talk to me much.”

“Aah, yes, but he does talk to you.”

“You just want him to notice you crushing on him. I see those eyes you make at him.”

You stuck out your tongue at her, but Nat just shook her head, put on her headset, and started her pre-flight checks. You sat back and tried not to ruminate on the intriguing, and very hot brunette super-soldier.

—----

You pulled your knife out of the chest of the goon you’d just downed and jogged down the corridor in front of you. 

“I’m on my way guys, wait for me to catch up…”

“Don’t worry, Starling. We won’t leave you behind.” You heard the smile in Steve’s voice over the comms and rolled your eyes to yourself. The daft nickname that Nat had given you, after she found you doing karaoke exactly once, had now been adopted by the rest of the team. Well, almost the rest of the team.

You saw a partially closed door ahead of you and pushed it open, coming face to face with Bucky’s rifle. You skidded to a halt and raised your hands in the air.

“Heeeeeeey! What’s up, Buck? Apart from your gun, that is.” You stuck out your index fingers and pressed it to the end of the barrel, pushing it away from you. Bucky glared. You tried not to notice how sexy he looked all battle dishevelled.

“Come on, man. Lighten up.”

“I almost shot you.” It took you a moment to decipher the growl he made and then another moment to process that he’d actually spoken to you. 

You grinned and made a theatrical stagger towards the closest wall, clutching a hand to your chest.

“Be still my beating heart! He speaks!”

Some of the tension went out of Bucky’s body and he lowered his rifle to point at the floor.

“Are you always so blasé?”

“Are you always so stoic?

He rolled his eyes and started to walk away from you down the corridor. You trotted behind him, trying to keep up with his long-legged stride, and turned off your comms transmitter.

“Is that why you don’t like me? You don’t think I take anything seriously?”

He stopped short and you almost ran into his back.

“I don’t ‘not like’ you.” He turned and looked you over.

“Could’ve fooled me, Sergeant Barnes. This is the first time you’ve ever spoken to me.”

“This is the first time you’ve said something that isn’t that ridiculous phrase.”

You pinched your nose, feeling a headache coming on.”

“You do realise that if you’d done anything other than just stare at me, all haughty and serious, I’d have expanded my vocabulary.”

“Maybe I didn’t know what to say. What was I supposed to say?”

“Anything, Bucky. I don’t know. Maybe ‘Nothing, just chilling’, or ‘the value of the Yen against the Dollar’. Anything. We could’ve been getting along all this time, you know.”

“Anything, Starling? What if what I wanted to say wasn’t appropriate?” He took a step towards you, backing you against the wall. His expression had changed. “What if I didn’t want to ‘get along’? What if I want something different? I’ve seen the way you look at me. I know what you want. Maybe we want the same thing?”

His eyes were dark and for some reason you were transfixed by the way his tongue popped out from between his lips.

“Umm. Erm. Is it warm in here? Just me? Maybe we should be going, you know, catch up with the others.”

“Don’t change the subject, not when we’re finally talking, скворец. You want to ask me, don’t you? You want to ask me that stupid question one more time to find out what I really want to say, don’t you?”

His breath was warm on your face, his eyes hypnotising you. He was standing so close his knee was almost slotted between your thighs. All you’d have to do would be to drop slightly and you could grind against it and…

“What… what’s up, Buck?” You barely recognised the croaky voice that came out of your throat.

Bucky’s right hand came up and cupped your face, thumb moving over your cheekbone and he dropped his head even closer.

“My blood, скворец, every time you talk to me. That’s what’s up. I want to kiss you to stop you saying it, and then carry on kissing you to find out what other things your lips will say…”

He moved his lower body closer, pressing his hips against you and heat suffused your skin at what you felt.

“And when you prance around in those tiny sleep shorts that barely cover your ass, guess what else is up?”

You drew a ragged breath into your lungs, feeling dizzy from the adrenaline coursing through your body.

“Do you understand now why I didn’t respond?”

The gap between you was infinitesimal. You were so close you were breathing the same air and at some point your hands had come up to rest on the leather of his tack jacket

“You should have said it, Buck. You should have said all those things, and we could have been doing this sooner.”

You closed the gap.

At the first touch of his lips against yours, both dry and chapped due the exertion of the mission, your eyelids closed allowing you to just feel. His mouth moved over yours, not softly, but not aggressively either, like he was trying to hold back. Your fingers curled into his jacket and the firm material creaked. You could smell leather, and gunpowder, and steel, and Bucky’s sweat. 

You wanted more. Wanted to drown in it. Drown in him. 

You wanted to run your tongue up his chest and taste him, you wanted to wind your fingers into his hair and clutch him to your breast, you wanted…

“Starling? Buck? Where are you guys? Did you stumble into some more trouble? We’re waiting for you at the jet.”

Steve’s voice burst in over the comms, pulling you both out of the moment. Bucky stepped back from you and pressed his finger to his ear.

“We’re here, Stevie. Don’t worry, be with you in a few minutes.”

You lent against the wall, and grabbed your water bottle, taking a healthy slug and giving yourself a few moments to collect yourself. 

“Come on, Starling. You heard the man. Let’s move out.”

You gave him a sharp nod and strode forward. You got a few steps in front of him when you felt Bucky grab you, his cool left hand feeling blissful against your heated skin.

“Oh, and our conversation isn’t over, doll. Not by a long shot.”

You gave him a coy smile.

“Your room or mine?”

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @poppunksnowwhite

#I need a part 2 like i need air lmao #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #Fluff

[fanficsonthebrain]

Adoration of the Heart

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Bartender!Neighbor!Bucky x college!artist!reader (intended female reader)

Word count: 6.5K

Summary: You did it, you graduated, but an unexpected pair of visitors put a damper on what should’ve been a celebratory night. Don’t worry though, Bucky is determined to fix that for you. 

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, some angst, family drama - readers parents are a piece of work, bucky is in love, lots of fluff, smut with feelings, daddy kink, fingering, biting, scratching, pet names (sugar, daddy, baby, good girl), bucky talks a lot during sex. I did not include a divider for the smut because it’s broken up just a little bit throughout two or three different moments. 

A/N: This is unbeta-d and all mistakes are my own. 

If you enjoy the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi <3

Series Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Main Masterpost

You did it - you graduated. You fucking graduated. 

The smile on your face was so big it hurt as you searched the seats for your Bucky. Other than Val and Ana, who were in this crowd of caps and gowns with you, Bucky was the only one here for you. 

You hadn’t told your parents about the graduation ceremony. They didn’t agree with the art path you’d chosen and they’d been anything but supportive. So, you left them out of your big day. But that was okay, because Bucky with his gray blue eyes - the ones that reminded you of an ocean storm - were glinting with pride when you found them. 

Keep reading

#bucky barnes x reader #bartender!bucky #neighbor!bucky #bucky x reader #Bucky barnes #Smut

[fanficsonthebrain]

Party For Two

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky discuss what he wants to do for his birthday and what he wants as his present.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, light dirty talk, pet names, language, creampie, Bucky in his underwear needs a warning all its own

You could seriously just watch Bucky walk around in his underwear all day and be happy as a clam. You've told him before, and you'd tell him again. That he should just not wear clothes when you two were spending the day at home. 

It didn't matter if he threw on a shirt. Some days, having his arm and his scars completely visible bothered him. Sometimes he had phantom limb pain and needed the arm off completely, prefering to cover his scars as you tried to help with the residual nerve damage in his shoulder and back. 

Shuri did a lot, but she couldn't rewire the mess of his nervous system Hydra had left behind. Despite your assurance that you loved every inch of him, you would never push him to do something he didn't want to do. Some days were harder than others and you made sure he felt safe and loved even on his worst days. So your main rule was just no pants.

A man in his underwear should not turn you into this much of a hot horny mess, especially when you get to see him totally naked regularly. Although Bucky was an incredible specimen of a man.

Even now, you could see his lips moving, but your brain could not process the words he was saying. Not when those tight boxer briefs made his ass look like you could just bite into it. Not to mention how they perfectly cupped his bulge. The way you could just slightly see his cock and balls jiggle as he walked. It felt dirty but still kind of sweet. 

It made you just want to play with his cock. Not necessarily in a hand job sexual way, but just hold it and pet it. Tell him how pretty and perfect his cock was. Gently massage and rub his balls and kiss all over him. He did have the prettiest cock. 

You also loved how much he blushed whenever you told him how pretty his cock was. The old-fashioned boy from the 1940's was still taken aback by such words coming from your pretty little mouth. Even if it was a genuine compliment he still wasn't used to hearing a sweet pretty thing like you talk so openly about liking cock. Especially his. Especially when he wasn't already balls deep inside you.

Bucky agreed to the deal on the condition that you also wore no pants. You were allowed to throw on shorts or pj's on occasion, but only ones Bucky liked. Usually, you just went for an oversized shirt. 

Honestly, the two of you became quite the pair of hermits or homebodies. Your happy place was your apartment. Just the two of you, and Alpine, of course. You had all settled into your little domestic routine quite well. You couldn't help the little contented sigh that left your lips.

It was then that you realized Bucky had stopped talking and was staring back at you, trying not to laugh at your deer in headlights expression. You were caught red-handed, staring at him again. He couldn't be too mad about you not listening if you were gonna look so cute when busted.

"You know I think you have a bigger staring problem than I do, babydoll."

You could feel your cheeks blush as you both dissolved into little giggles. You knew he wasn't mad, but you still apologized anyway once you composed yourself. 

"I'm sorry, Buck. You are just too sexy sometimes for my brain to do anything but stare at you. I kinda like you, ya know." 

You gave him a teasing smirk punctuating your statement. Saying I love you was still new to the two of you, but Bucky would say it over and over the first few days. You couldn't help but tease him about it. All out of your own love for him though, and he knew it.

"Well, if you had been listening, you would know that Sam is inevitably going to try to throw me some sort of birthday party. He's been dropping hints for days, but if he asks please tell him we already have plans. I don't care what, but I really don't want a party." 

Of course, that's right. Sam had been after you about trying to do something for Bucky’s birthday. Sam wanted to go out and do something bigger. You knew all Bucky wanted to do for his birthday was be alone. It was hard for him think about all the birthdays, all the years, he had lost. He wanted to mark the day by enjoying the life he had waited so long for. 

He had waited so long to be at peace. Even though he still had missions to go on and work to do in the field, and in his own head, he felt a stability that he had always dreamed of. He had an apartment. Even if it wasn't the most put together. He had a pet. Alpine the fluffy white feline rescue who has helped him just as much as he helped her. 

Most importantly, he had you. He had an amazing girl that he wanted to settle down with. Create a home with. One day marry and have babies with. Assuming he could. He really didn't know if Hydra had done anything to affect his fertility. He didn't really want to know. For now, the 2 of you and Alpine was enough though.

That was what he wanted to celebrate, and he wanted to celebrate it by staying in with you. Just you, take out, tv or movies. Then, of course he planned to cash in his birthday points on dirty noise-complaint-getting loud sex. Some people may think it sounded boring, other than the sex part maybe, but that was exactly what he loved about it. 

You could see him planning out the evening he really wanted in his mind. He always joked about not wanting anyone else in his head, but he did love that you seemed to be able to read his mind. 

"What if I tell Sam that we are having a party and he just isn't invited? That it's a party just for two. Just you and me. I'll even let you pick dinner." 

He pretended to think about it as he walked over to the side of the couch you were on. Reaching across the arm of the sofa to help you up onto your knees so he could wrap his arms around your waist. Letting yourself slide up his muscular chest and link behind his neck. A mischievous smile curled up on his lips.

"I like the sound of that. I do still want cake though. Are you planning any party games?" 

You nodded at his request. Oh you were planning on cake, ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate syrup. Basically, any sort of dessert that could be enjoyed in both appropriate and inappropriate ways. 

"Well cake is a given of course. I'm sure we can find all sorts of creative ways to enjoy it too. As far as games, I do have a couple things in mind. Tell me how do you feel about naked Twister?"

He grabbed your waist a little tighter and growled a little at the idea of the two of you bent into all sorts of compromising positions. His blood starting to rush to his groin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

"You know, I may need a little practice. Why don't we have a little practice party right now? Just so I know what to expect on my birthday." 

You smiled and shook your head at him, he knew you were a sucker for that look he got when he was feeling frisky. The crooked little grin, the way he would bite his lip, and the way his pretty blue eyes would sparkle. It was like your lips were pulled to his by a magnet. Moving closer on their own volition. 

Not that you mind of course. Your thoughts had already been in the gutter from watching Bucky strut around the house in those tight boxer briefs. Now you knew his was there too. The feeling of his bulge hardening against you, confirming that and making you wiggle your hips in anticipation.

He pulled back so his lips were barely touching yours, eliciting a needy little whine from you. You wanted more of him. You always wanted more of him. His hands started to slide down your low back to cup your ass cheeks, bending his knees a little so he could get a firm hold on you. 

"Mmm, can smell you, babydoll. You smell so good. Know you taste even better though. Taste even sweeter than that birthday cake will. I want a taste, baby girl."

He almost effortlessly scooped you up off the couch, your legs quickly swinging to wrap around his waist. Alpine had abandoned the couch to go hide under the table the minute you two started getting lovey. So without fear of stepping on her tail he practically sprinted to your shared bedroom, plopping you down unceremoniously onto the bed before lunging so he was on top of you. 

His lips hurried back to connect with yours in a frenzy of playful, passion filled kisses. Letting your hands wander up and down each others bodies, rubbing and touching any bit you could grab. Slowly working to get your hand down to rub over his cock. Straining against the soft fabric of his underwear. Still getting harder as you massaged him. 

You pulled your lips away from his so you could admire his cock in your hand. Even though it was still hidden behind the dark fabric, you couldn't help the way you licked your lips and moaned at the sight. He was just so perfect and thick. You knew the serum hadn't changed his height and size near as dramatically as Steve, but it did effect his muscle mass. You had a little bit of a hope that it had made his cock this thick. Otherwise those girls in the 40's wouldn't have survived.

"Starting to think you might be a little obsessed with my cock, babydoll." 

He teased you as he started kissing and sucking at your neck. Letting you enjoy your view as he let his hips occasionally roll and rut into your hand. You hummed in agreement as he began teasing his vibranium hand up and under your shirt. 

"Can't help it, baby. It's just so fucking perfect and big. Fills me up so good. So much better than any of my toys. Plus I kinda love the man it's attached to." 

He nuzzled his face into your neck before you felt him grin against your skin. He whispered an "I love you too baby…". Suddenly moving quickly and knocking your balance out from you as he in one smooth move threw off the shirt you were wearing and rushing to get your panties off just as fast. Leaving you suddenly naked underneath him. 

"... I'm also kind of obsessed with this pretty pussy. So I guess we're even." 

His body dropping to the bed and your legs thrown over his shoulders as he descended on you. Wet kisses along the crease of your inner thigh, just shy of where you desperately wanted his lips. Jumping to the other side and letting his warm breath dance across your dripping sex.

You could feel his bright blue eyes on you as he placed his first long lick up your slit. Making sure to cover every inch from your tight light hole up to your clit. Stopping to place several small kisses and kitten licks on the bundle of nerves. Hearing your breath already starting to falter.

Bucky loved eating you out. It wasn't something he remembered doing more than maybe once or twice before you, and he can't remember enjoying it nearly as much back then as he did now. Maybe he was more selfish back then. Maybe those women had just been less secure and open about what felt good. Women being so vocal about enjoying sex was pretty taboo in his day, but the way you reacted to his mouth on you made him obsessed. 

Each time you moaned as swirled his tongue around your clit. Each time you would grind against his face as he thrust his tongue inside you. Each time you would pull his hair as rubbed his whole face farther into your wet cunt. It all made him want to spend the rest of his life wirh his head between your thighs. Not even caring that he usually ended up so worked up he would start humping the mattress underneath him in an unconscious effort by his cock to get some sort of attention. 

He didn't even want to stop after he heard you whine and moan his name when you came. Why would he stop when he had the opportunity to lick up even more of your sweet nectar from your orgasm? No, he only stopped when he had his fill of  feasting on your cunt and your cum. Leaving you teetering on the edge of overstimulation. 

"Definitely my favorite treat. Hell fuck the cake, I just want your pussy as my birthday treat. What you think, doll? Can I have your pretty slutty little cunt as my birthday present? Can I eat it and play with it and fuck it whenever and however I want?" 

By now he started working his way back up your body as you clung to sheets arching into his mouth as he moved. Pressing your breasts against his face as he reached your chest. Greedily encouraging him to take one of your nipples into his mouth as his metal fingers pinched at the other. The contrast of his warm mouth and the cool vibranium making your skin prickle into goosebumps. 

After switching sides, making sure to give both perky pebbled nipples the attention they deserved, he made it back up to your lips. Kissing you once before nipping at your lower lip playfully. 

You had already wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull his pelvis to yours. Your fingers now tangled and tugging at the fabric of his boxer briefs trying to get them down. Desperately trying to get his cock free so you could feel him against your still soaked and needy cunt. 

"I'm waiting for an answer baby, tell me and then I'll take these off. Fuck you nice and hard. Can I have your perfect tight little hole as my birthday present? I want to spend my party making you scream and cum all over my cock." 

The sound of his filthy birthday wish pulled a deep groan from your chest. You wanted to spend his party doing that too, and what the birthday boy wants the birthday boy gets. You let your body go lax so he would be able to easily position you however he wanted you as you answered. 

"Yes, Bucky, holy fuck yes! My pussy is all yours, birthday boy. Use it however you want, James. All for you." 

"That's my good girl." 

He got back up on his knees and shimmied his underwear down and kicking them off. You eyes glued to his cock before it even sprung free from the fabric. A whimper falling from your mouth when a dribble of pre-cum dripped from his swollen flushed cockhead onto your low belly. A string of fluid running from his cock and starting to make a mess on you. He knew by the look in your eyes that he had you in the palm of his hand. So you promptly obliged when he told you what he wanted next. 

"Spread your legs farther, babydoll. Pull them back and hold onto your ankles for me. I want to see every little bit of my present." 

Quickly you worked to fold yourself in half as best as you could. Opening you up even more to Bucky’s gaze. His eyes raking over your body as be stroked his length a few times. Stopping only when you started to wiggle your hips, trying to urge him to touch you.

"Impatient, aren't you baby?" 

His tongue darting out to lick his lips, still swollen for having his face buried in your pussy, before a faux pout crossed his face. Cooing lightly at you as he started slapping his cock on your sensitive cunt. 

"God you look so fucking good when you get all needy for my cock baby. Saw you get that look in your eyes earlier. Knew that smart little brain had stopped thinking of everything but my cock. It's all yours baby." 

He placed his tip at your entrance and slowly started to push his hips forward. Sliding himself into you one inch at a time. Letting you feel every little bit of stretch he gave you. The feeling making you both moan in pleasure. Stilling in place once he had bottomed out inside you. 

"Fuck darlin', that's the prettiest thing I've ever seen. Look so beautiful getting fucked with my bare cock baby."

You gave him a seductive look and bit your lip. 

"Happy early birthday baby." 

With that, he gingerly drug his hands from the backs of your heels all the way down to the backs of your thighs. Gripping onto the flesh there and bracing you for his next move. Bucky slowly started to pull his hips back and started building speed with his first thrust back in. 

A feral look in his eyes as he watched where his cock was impaling you. Hypnotized by the sight. The image of your pussy stretched tight around his cock. The way his cock shined, wet with your arousal. It tipped him over the edge when he started hearing the wet squelch of your pussy as he thrust into you spurring him on to fuck you harder. 

The headboard starting to thump against the wall under the force of Bucky’s thrusts. A litany of swears falling from both of you. Your moans and squeaks as he pounded you accented by the sound of his full balls slapping against your ass. Each of you getting closer to climax with each sound the other made.

When he could feel his balls starting to tighten and he knew he was close to blowing, he let his flesh hand dip to rub at your clit. Smearing your wetness around to make his action smoother.  

After a moment of him touching your clit he found the perfect speed and spot. Feeling the fire start burning in your belly you let your eyes roll back in your head. 

"Oh fuck Bucky, right there! Don't stop, baby please don't stop!" 

His hips only sped up even more at your reaction. 

"Oh don't worry, dollface. I'm not stopping until I make a mess in my birthday present. You want that babydoll? You want to cum in you pretty girl? Let me hear it baby." 

Few things could throw you over the edge quite like Bucky when he talked dirty. It fueled that fire in your belly and sent it boiling over. As you came undone on his cock you practically cried for him to cum inside you. Your pussy squeezing and fluttering around his cock, practically milking him.

"James!!! Cum in me please, fuck I'm cumming for you baby. God you make me cum so good. It's your pussy daddy. Fuck it and fill it please, please!" 

By the time you had finished cumming, you felt his cock start to throb as he climaxed. Your body still jerking from your own orgasm with each stream of cum you felt him shoot into you until you were nearly overflowing. 

After a few minutes of basking in each other's afterglow, Bucky eventually pulled out of you with a groan and rolled over. Promptly grabbing you up in his arms again and pulling you over to cuddle. Pressing kisses into your hair as you drew little patterns on his chest. 

"If this is what I can expect for my birthday party, then happy birthday to me indeed." 

You gave him a wicked grin as you looked up at him. 

"Oh no, Buck, this was just practice. Remember? Your actual birthday party is going to be even more fun."

--------------------------------

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Smut

[fanficsonthebrain]

First of all i LOOOOVEEE ur stories,

Can i ask a Bucky x Reader Fluff. (You can add some smut if you want to)

Where the reader has this stutter thats shes really insecure about and Bucky just adores it and that he comforts her when shes tearing up because she cant talk normally without a stutter.

Thank you girll xx

hi my love, thank you so much for your kind words!! and thanks even more for your patience - this is my first official request and i wanted to make sure i did right by you!!

pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

warnings: smut!!! minors DNI, oral (f receiving), writer's first time writing smut lmfao, Bucky's your ex (at first), reader has a stutter but writer does not so feedback is welcome

word count: 2k

“She’s where?”

Natasha bites into an apple. Her elbows rest against the granite countertop, watching Bucky through her lashes. He’s staring at her incredulously, waiting for her to clarify. She bides her time, chewing and savoring the fruit. The lackadaisical way Nat sways on her heels ignites Bucky’s rage. It takes every ounce of willpower to not grab the apple and pitch it to the wall.

“On a date,” Nat says dismissively, rotating the apple in her hand, trying to find the next perfect bite. She waits patiently for whatever emotion is bubbling beyond the cold stare to reach the surface.

“She didn’t tell me that,” Bucky says bitterly.

She cocks an eyebrow.

“She’s supposed to tell her ex when she’s going out?”

Bucky huffs. He hates the title.

“Because we all live in the same building. Could be a safety thing,” he grumbles, though they both know he’s full of shit.

The elevator dings, drawing the two operatives’ attention. You step out, clutch held tightly in your hand.

“Tell her yourself then,” Nat tells Bucky, pushing herself off of the counter. She passes you, squeezing your forearm. “Talk later?”

You can only respond with a nod as you approach the kitchen, slamming your bag onto the countertop.

“Hi,” Bucky greets gingerly, unsure if you’re aware of his presence. You turn to him briefly, a scowl still adorning your face.

“H-Hi,” you respond before turning to glare at your fingers. The rings glint in the overhead lighting, an ornate reminder that you actually got dressed up for some asshole. You practically rip the jewelry off of you.

“Wanna tell me about it?” he says, watching the rings clatter onto the granite.

You look at him in disbelief. He was the last person you would want to tell about a failed date. But your discontentment is begging to pour out, bubbling inside you like magma in a volcano. You take a deep breath.

“I w-w-w-went on a–”

You feel your emotions impacting your speech, and you stop yourself. You take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure, and start again.

“I w-went on a d-d-d–FUCK!”

You grab the closest thing to you–a knife block set–and throw it against the wall. The impact echoes through the tower kitchen, sending blades flying in all directions. As the empty block hits the floor, you slide down against the side of the countertop. Angry tears are filling your eyes, but you stare unblinking, refusing to let them fall.

Bucky says nothing as he swiftly collects the mess you've made before moving beside you. He slides down onto the floor, his even gaze on you. Your knees are to your chest, and you have a handful of your dress gripped in your fist. Your breathing is the only sound in the room, heavy and uneven with the effort of keeping your tears inside.

Even completely silent, Bucky is still one of the most comforting people you have ever met. His stoic gaze and quiet stares can be interpreted as robotic, intimidating, unnerving; to you, it has always felt calming, unjudging, a serene haven in a world that was often too loud.

And he was definitely a much better presence than the asswipe you just spent the past couple hours with.

“I didn’t know you had a–” your date gestures at his mouth with his fork “–thing. You know, my cousin stuttered, like, her whole life. It was so fucking annoying.”

He chuckles, then continues, “Not you, though. But she went to therapy and, swear, hasn’t stuttered since. It’s crazy. But, like, you know, it’s cool for you.”

You shoot him a smile too sweet to be genuine.

“Thanks. M-Means a lot.”

“W-What if,” you tell Bucky, “I don’t want to get r-rid of it? What i-if I like it? DId he e-ever think about t-th-that?”

“I don’t think he did, love,” he tells you softly.

But you hang your head, your face obscured for a moment. When you look back up, resting your chin on your knees, your tears flow freely. Bucky wants nothing more than to pull you to his chest, to wrap his arms around you, to comfort you, but he can’t. Not anymore.

“I h-h-hate this fucking st-stutter, Bucky,” you admit through gritted teeth.

“Hey,” he says, as if he should be offended for you. “Don’t say that.” He presses his palms on the ground, pushing himself forward, planting himself in front of you.

“But I d-d-d–” You get caught repeating the sound, and you press your lips together, your nostrils flaring.

“B-But I d-do,” you complete scornfully. “I d-didn’t even want to g-go on this d-d-date. I kn-knew this would h-happen. I-I knew I would g-get judged. It always happens.”

Not with me, Bucky thinks. He can’t help himself now, and he reaches out, pressing his hands on the sides of your head. The gesture surprises you, and you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Every part of you is absolutely incredible, you know that?”

Under Bucky’s earnest gaze, you feel the heat flooding your face. He brushes away a piece of your hair before pulling away.

“You’re one of the most skilled agents to walk through this door,” he begins. You shake your head.

“No, really,” he insists, pointing his thumb behind him. “I’ll tell Steve right now.”

You shake your head again, this time with a laugh, as you wipe your tears with your fingers.

“But despite being an absolute force in the field, you’re still the kindest person I know.”

You huff in disbelief. You can’t help yourself:

“Yeah, k-kind enough to still be t-talking to my ex."

This time, it’s Bucky who hangs his head. His nonsensical babble of excuses comes back to him: You both seemed too busy. He wanted to work on himself. This was more of a break than a break-up, really, if you think about it. Oh, and don’t forget: it’s not you, it’s him.

Now is as good a time as ever to tell you the truth: “You were too good for me. You are too good for me.”

He earns another laugh from you, but this time it’s devoid of any mirth.

“Yeah. Okay, B-Bucky.”

“No, angel, I’m serious,” he says, shifting closer to you. You cock your head as he doubles down.

“R-Really?” you say dryly. “T-The new girl with t-the fucking s-sp-speech impediment is too good for Bucky B-Barnes.”

He scoots himself even closer to you, his legs now on either side of yours. Your arms are drooped across your knees, and the bottom part of your face is obscured behind your forearms. He drops his head to meet your eyes.

“Yes,” he confirms, “the new girl with a heart full of gold, talents that blew us out of the water, and a speech impediment is too good for this idiot.

“I realize it now, doll. And I can’t believe I was too fucking dense to see it before. You’re too good for me, and I won’t argue about that. But I fuckin’ let you go, instead of staying by your side, making myself better for you. I’m stupid, doll, so stupid, you mean the world to me–”

You swallow Bucky’s words with a kiss, your hands moving to caress his face. He practically melts under your touch, and you feel his body shift with your lips on his. He’s leaning, leaning, leaning, desperate to be as close to you as possible, but the countertop against your back is proving it to be an impossible feat. He pulls away for a second, smiling as you whine at the separation, and hooks his hands under your thighs, lifting you onto the granite. He chuckles at the way you yelp and wrap your hands around his neck, yet he wastes no time capturing your lips in his again.

Your hands move from his neck into his hair, giving his brunette locks a slight tug. He stifles a groan, his ears perking at a noise down the hallway. He brings your hands to his lips for a kiss before he steps away, listening intently.

“It’s t-twelve, Barnes,” you say. “S-Sam’s going to be c-c-coming out soon for his–”

“–midnight snack,” he finishes with a huff. He gathers your bag and your rings, offering a hand as you hop off of the counter. “C’mon, love. You must be tired, anyway.”

You wrap your hand around his arm as he leads you to the elevator. He presses the button to your floor.

“Everyone else says I don’t say a word,” he teases, “yet you won’t even let me finish a sentence.”

You let out an embarrassed chuckle, thinking of how you punctuated the middle of Bucky’s rant with a kiss.

“I-I just knew th-that you meant it, Bucky,” you say. “I-I know you.”

As you watch the floor numbers change above the elevator doors, Bucky keeps his half-lidded gaze on you.

“I know you do.”

In the comforts of your room, Bucky kneels in front of you to ease your shoes off of your feet. You release a relieved sigh. He steps behind you, and you feel his warm breath on your skin before he leaves slow kisses along your neck. He moves the strap of your dress before continuing his trail of kisses along your shoulder.

“B-Bucky…”

His fingers ghost over your other shoulder before gently slipping the other strap off. Your dress falls to the ground. You tilt your head back with a sigh as large hands run over your bare stomach and breasts. Your relaxed breaths turn into a sharp inhale as his fingers find your nipple, giving it a slight pinch.

“Let me take care of you, doll,” he mutters. You turn to face him, slotting your lips against his. He walks forward until you feel the bedframe behind your knees. You yelp, but his hands find your head and your back, lowering you until you feel the plush mattress underneath you. Bucky plants a kiss on your lips before moving to your neck and decolletage. His mouth takes it time on both of your breasts, swirling slow circles on your nipples, before kissing down your stomach.

Bucky murmurs a swear under his breath as he removes your underwear. He runs his thumb along your folds, nearly hypnotized by the arousal he now spreads to your clit. He listens to your soft whimpers as he draws agonizing circles.

He meant to take his time, but he can’t help himself. He missed you so damn much, and he’s more than eager to prove it. He moves his hand to his hardening cock, pumping as he licks a stripe along your folds.

Can’t waste a single drop.

His cock twitches in his hand at your gasp. You sound so needy, all for him. His mouth envelops your pearl, sucking and licking like he’ll never be satiated.

“Oh–f-fuck–Bu-Bucky.”

You lift your head to peer at Bucky, your hands moving to his hair. He releases you with a pop, meeting your eyes through the darkness.

“I’ve missed you, doll,” he murmurs, savoring your taste on his tongue.

“I m-missed–shit!”

Bucky has pushed a finger into you, curling and pressing against your g-spot. Your head falls back onto the mattress, your back arching as his mouth returns to your clit. He groans as your hands on his head push him closer. He adds another finger, quickening his pace. He feels you clenching around his fingers.

That’s it, doll.

He looks up at you, your head thrown back in pure pleasure, your breasts rising and falling with your erratic breaths.

“B-Buck, you’re–you’re gonna–”

A flurry of swears fill the air as you release. Bucky groans at the feeling of you coming around his fingers. Your fingers loosen around his locks, and he rests his head lazily on your thigh, pumping his fingers slowly as your orgasm subsides.

He brings his fingers to his mouth as he rises. He smiles as you watch him hazily.

He rests beside you, eyes closed, expecting you to nuzzle yourself into his chest like you always did. Instead, he opens an eye at the feeling of your fingers hooking into his waistband. His hands move to your hips as you shift on top of him.

“I’m n-not done with y-you, Barnes.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #Smut

[fanficsonthebrain]

A little longer

HI MY BEAUTIFUL 🐚ANON!! I adore this so much, I adore YOU so much, as always, your requests are everything!! 

Warnings: So so much fluffy fluff, angst if you really squint till your eyes go cross-eyed and blurry

-

“It’s been decades. Not even a couple years. Almost a century. You probably shoot dust. Or whatever your bionic ass reproduces with”

Bucky contemplated throwing his half finished milkshake at Sam’s head while they both scarfed down burgers from a late night diner after a taxing mission. Sam was pestering Bucky yet again about his nonexistent social and lack of a love life, a topic he seemed to get high off of. 

Keep reading

#CUTEEEEE #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Fluff

[fanficsonthebrain]

Teddy Bear

Summary: soulmate!au in which when one soulmate loses something, their other half finds it. 

When Bucky begins finding things that don’t belong to him, he realizes he has a soulmate in the modern world after all. Even though they should be perfectly matched, he struggles to find a reason why he should meet her, and be a part of her life, convincing himself she’s better off without him. 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 4175

Warnings: Mentions of some WS stuff, nothing graphic. 

Author’s Note: Thank you to my lovely Tanya @velvetofyourheart for gracing me with the idea for this fic. I hope you all like it!

Lost things don’t float into the ether. They don’t remain in the world of dropped chapsticks, misplaced rings, forgotten jackets on park benches.

They arrive, sooner or later, in the hands of someone that will keep them safe. People delight in the fact that their soulmates things come to them for safekeeping. It’s like getting a small gift from the person that’s meant for you.

Bucky had thought he was mateless. Had prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that he didn’t have a soulmate. He certainly didn’t have one before.

Before the war, before the fall, before he died and suffered and was reborn.

And he had been confused when objects he didn’t own first started appearing after. He thought any mate he could have had would be long dead, though he remembers being disappointed day after day when he never found anything that wasn’t his own.

Piles of handwritten letters, a necklace, a shoelace, a bottle of nail polish, hair tie after hair tie after hair tie. One sneaker, a journal, homework.

Mostly though, his soulmate seems to lose letters.

Purposefully, it would seem.

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #Fluff #fucking adorable

[fanficsonthebrain]

Warrior/Worrier (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

Words: 5.3K

Fluff, fluff and fluff and a lil bit of angst. Classic hurt/comfort and friends to lovers

Through the darkness, there's a knock on your bedroom door, so soft, so cautious, that if you hadn't already been half-awake, you're not sure you would've caught it.

Legs quickly swung over the side of your mattress, you stop and focus at a fixpoint in your moonlit room.

According to the big mission schedule hung in Steve's office, you should be the only one at the compound, so you cannot for the life in you figure out who would rap on your door at 3.30 in the morning, but it wasn't just something you'd imagined because there it is again. A knock, not much louder than before, but definitely there.

For a brief second, your foggy brain ponders that it's likely someone who's been sent to kill you in the dead of night, but before you've even reached for your bedside Beretta, rationality reminds you that they probably wouldn't have had the curtesy to knock first - and then it dawns on you.

"Nat," you sigh with a roll of your eyes and let your bare feet hit the floor while you rub the sleep from off your face. It's not the first time she's forgotten the lock combination to her room after post-mission drinks.

Slowly, you walk across the cold floorboards and over to the wooden door where you can hear ragged breathing from the other side of the wall. Hand lazily pulling the door open, you start talking before you've seen who's on the other side.

"It's only four digits and you're panic breathing?" you chuckle but is immediately taken aback when you're not met by Natasha but instead by your best friend. "...Buck?"

He's back from his mission a day earlier than you'd expected and you're just about to crack a witty comment on how you'd told him that Sam couldn't stand to be alone with him for more than thirty-six hours, but then you notice the state he's in.

His entire body is slumped over as he clutches his right arm tight to his chest, eyes droopy and blank, cheekbones dotted by freckles of soot and framed by thick strands of auburn hair caked in dried blood. "Doll," he breathes painfully and takes a step closer, looking only mildly relieved to see you.

"Buck!" you hiss in fear and grab both his cheeks, but his dirty face just drops further, and he can't even look at you though you're standing mere inches apart.

"I know it's late," he mumbles with his gaze downcast, "but can I come in?"

It's as if you don't hear him clearly enough to respond. His voice is under water and at the same time layers above you while you're far too concerned with every look of horror splashed across his handsome face, your hands frantically clutching his bloodied cheeks as you desperately search his eyes though he still won't look at you. "What happened? Where's all this blood coming from?"

"It's - it's not mine..." he croaks with a small shake of his head.

Fear ripples through your entire body one more time and you can barely speak as you imagine the worst possible scenario that might have caused Bucky to behave like this. "Is it... Sam?" you whimper with tears already burning in your eyes, fighting the urge to throw up.

"He's fine," Bucky quickly interrupts with a small nod, "I dropped him off at his girl's place twenty minutes ago," he croaks and finally looks up at you, his eyes more broken than you've ever seen them before. It makes your heart crack in two. "Sweetheart, can I please come in?"

"Oh god," you pant anxiously and reluctantly let your fingers slide off his cheeks as you step to the side and finally let him inside your bedroom. "Yes, yes of course you can come in."

Immediately, he's on your bed, his face buried in his vibranium hand as the pads of his fingers start rubbing circles over his dusty forehead.

"What happened?" you barely manage to croak as you sit down beside him and carefully place a hand on his rigid thigh. "Last time I heard from you, everything was going according to plan."

"I don't want to talk about it," he gulps and starts rubbing his face even more agitatedly, looking over at you with an apologetic look on his face. "- not right now... I just had to see you. I'm sorry I woke you up."

You grab his vibranium hand and bring it down to his lap to get him to stop his frantic movements and he immediately squeezes you tight, letting out another heart-breaking sob.

"It's okay, Buck. I'm glad you're here."

Over the last year, you've seen Bucky on his darkest days a handful of times, and he usually has the same look on his face, but this time, it's different. It's deeper. Despondent and morose, the anger that's usually posessing him om the bleaker days replaced by a different kind of sadness.

Something really bad must've happened...

"Do you wanna sleep in here tonight?" you ask, unsure how to tackle this the best way possible if you don't want him to shield himself off in his room the way he usually does when he's not feeling his best. He shouldn't be alone under any circumstances.

You're half expecting him to protest, but to your surprise he starts nodding, relieved. "Thank you," he whispers and squeezes your hand tight again.

You make an attempt at a comforting touch as you brush over the soot on his cheeks, making a strand of dirty hair dipped in dried blood fall from his forehead. "You want a shower? I can draw you a bath."

He nods again.

"Come on, love," you say quietly and watch as he gulps hard at the sound of the tender pet-name that you've been wanting to call him for months now but haven't had the guts to say out loud until it accidentally slips past your lips. Surprisingly, you're not even embarrassed by yourself. You suppose there are more important things to worry about than an accidental profession of love in a moment of gentle affection.

Bucky seems taken aback too, frozen, and full of wonder, but he shakes it off and lets you pull him to your small bathroom, accepting your fluffiest towel without a word as he continues staring at you.

"I'll be just outside, okay?" you say reassuringly as you turn on the water in your bathtub, making sure it's the right temperature before putting in the drain stopper.

He's still looking at you with huge eyes, flesh arm clutched to his chest while the fluffy white towel gently supports his elbow. You silently wonder if he's hurt but before you can ask him, he speaks.

"Can you... stay?" He asks quietly, biting his inner cheek, unsure if his request is too much.

Still, it's your turn to be taken aback. You and Bucky are close but not like that. 

"Stay?" you instinctively furrow your eyebrows, "while you shower?

He immediately clenches his jaw shut and shakes his head while small patches of pink appear on his cheeks underneath all the dirt. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no it's okay," you quickly stand up from your position by the tub spout so you're once again levelled. "- I was just surprised, that's all," you want to smack yourself for making him doubt himself. "Of course I'll stay."

Ice blue irises slowly find yours while the rose tint of his lower lip is being pulled between his teeth. "Are you sure?" he hesitates while sucking in some air, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."

"You're not," you touch your hand to his sternum to underline your words and watches as the crease between his eyebrows slowly reduces as he gradually relaxes under your touch. You can't help but think that even through all the dust and the grime, he looks incredibly beautiful.

"Let me give you some privacy," you unwillingly let go of him and turn away so he can undress in peace.

From behind you, you can hear the ruffle of his tac pants being pushed down his legs before the belt buckle clangs loudly against the tiles of the floor. It's followed by a series of loud painful grunts and hisses a few seconds later.

"Are you okay?" you ask and turn your head to the side, careful not to look directly at him as to not break the trust he put in you when he asked you to stay. "Buck?"

"Yeah, sweetheart," he sighs in embarrassment behind you, "it's just... do you think you could... help me?"

You turn around slowly to find him standing in the middle of the bathroom still wearing his torn t-shirt and Kevlar vest, bare-legged in boxer shorts and black socks pulled high up on his calf while his pants are lying crumbled on the floor beside him. He's awkwardly shifting the weight between his two feet, still clutching his right arm tightly. "It's my elbow."

Immediately, you furrow your eyebrows and walk over to him, taking his right hand in yours. "Yeah, I meant to ask you earlier. What happened?"

He doesn't answer but just silently lets you examine the swelling and black-purple skin that's half-hidden underneath dust and blood.

"Shit," you breathe and hear him give out a sharp hiss when you turn his arm over so you can examine the other side, "Buck, I think your elbow's torn."

"Me too," he gulps, "- I heard it snap."

At the mere thought of the sound, a wave of nausea hits you square in the chest and your stomach starts to churn. You can feel the tang of acid push up on your tongue when you imagine the pain he must've been enduring - still is enduring - but you fight it relentlessly and eventually manage to swallow down the bile. You should be taking care of him, not the other way around.

"We should go down to the infirmary," you say and keep your gaze firmly placed on the purple bruising, so he doesn't notice your discomfort. "I know it probably won't take too long to heal with the serum and all but just to make su-"

"Sweetheart," he gulps from above you and it makes you stop mid-sentence. "Not tonight, okay? I just wanna stay here tonight."

You look up at him, about to protest, but the words quickly die in your throat when you notice the look he's wearing. He's begging. Anxious. Heavy-hearted.

"Okay," you reluctantly agree and carefully let go of his arm while he sends you a grateful look. "Come on, let me help you out of this," you say quietly in defeat and unstrap his vest beneath his ribs, pulling the Kevlar plates over his head while he groans loudly.

"Ah!" he hisses and clutches his elbow tight, squeezing his eyes shut when you try and pull his t-shirt over his head. "Fuck!"

"You good?"

"Mm-hmm" he hums displeased with lips pressed so tightly together they're forming a thin, white line. "Just get it over with."

You pull on the hem again so the dark fabric rides up his stomach, revealing scarred skin pulled tight over the bulging muscles you've spent so many warm summer days discreetly staring at. "Can you reach your arms just a little higher?" you ask and watch how his diaphragm heaves in small electric shocks when he cannot control the loud gasps that escape his throat.

"Fuck me!" He hisses and squeezes his eyes so tightly shut that his entire face pales. "Just rip the damn fabric off," he hisses angrily, "I can't extend my fucking arm."

"Are you sure you don't wanna get it checked out in the med wing?" You let go of his t-shirt and look him deep in the eye, hoping your concerned gaze can convince him that it'll be worth the trip just to get your jumping nerves under control.

"Just... get me out of this thing," he sighs in defeat. "Cut it open, I don't care."

Disinclined, you dive down in the drawer underneath your sink, pulling out a small flat-legged scissor that came with a roll of gauze you bought last year when you had a nasty wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. "Are you sure?" You look up at him as you put the blade underneath the hem of his t-shirt.

Through the fingers you have placed over his chest, you can feel how his pulse quickly falls again when your eyes meet.

"S'just a t-shirt," he mumbles quietly while nodding, "I'm sure..."

Though you want to stay in this position forever, you slowly look away from him and down at your hands as your hesitantly start cutting, careful not to pierce Bucky's flesh with the sharp scissors.

The blade runs through the fabric like a hot knife through butter and you can feel every tense muscle that the edge of the scissors encounters as they travel over his warm stomach and chest. It makes the blood roar in your ears as more and more skin is revealed underneath your fingertips.

Concentrated on not hurting him even more, you keep your gaze firmly placed on his heavily panting chest as you cut open the front of his black shirt and carefully peel the fabric off his bruised arm until he's standing in front of you in nothing but black boxers and socks, his left hand carefully reaching out for yours as if to comfort both of you.

You've seen him bare chested several times before, but it's never been in this close proximity, never been this intimate, just the two of you holding hands and looking each other deep in the eye as you silently try to assure the other that everything is going to be okay.

"So..." you clear your throat, embarrassed by the fact that you have to hold yourself back from leaning forwards, planting a small kiss on his dusty cheek. "- I take it you can shimmy your way out of those on your own, right?" You nod down towards his boxers and he blinks as if he's just woken up from a trance.

"Yeah," he nods and lets go of your hand while the pink patches make a reappearance on his face.

Slowly, you turn around facing the running spout in the tub to the soft sound of cotton hitting the floor behind you. Involuntarily, you give out a gulp and flusteredly grab the box of bath salts just to give your shaking hands something to do. You cannot believe that your extremely fuckable best friend is standing naked in your bathroom no more than two feet away, begging you to stay close to him.

Eyes still firmly placed on the water in the tub, you point over your shoulder to the rainfall shower in the opposite corner of the bathroom. "You wanna rinse off first?"

"I better," Bucky hesitates behind you. "Don't you think?"

"It'll be a much nicer bath if you do," you awkwardly clear your throat.

"Yeah, you're right," he sighs and turns on the shower, immediately stepping inside and closing the glass door behind him so you can finally breathe freely again.

Through the mirror above the sink, you can make out his naked silhouette behind the matte glass and how the tension in his shoulders first tenfolds and then completely disappears the minute the water turns warm and he relaxes. He lets his forehead fall forwards so it's pressed up against the cold tiles while the water runs over his defined shoulders and down his sculpted back, and you literally have to force your eyes away from him and the shape of his handsome torso.

With your gaze fixed firmly on the fuzzy bathmat at the foot of the shower, you hear the sound of your bath gel being opened, followed by a series of painful grunts as Bucky desperately tries to lather himself with the soap.

"Fuck," he mumbles quietly and before you've even voiced a single word of concern, he continues. "Sweetheart, I know it's a lot to ask..." he says a little louder, the embararssement still evident in his voice, "- but I'm gonna need a little help in here... it's - it's this damn elbow," he sighs, "I'm useless. Can you...?" his voice trails off and the question hangs thickly in the air between you.

He wants you to join him.

To wash him.

Take care of him.

The thought alone makes you nervous, you have to admit, but he needs your help and you're willing to do anything for him.

"Give me a minute," you gulp and strip down to your panties, pulling on the bra you wore earlier so you're not completely bare in there. Several times, you've dreamt of you and Bucky naked together, but not like this - never like this - and you'll be damned if the first time he sees you without a shred of clothes is because he needs help and not because he needs you.

With your pyjamas neatly folded on top of the toilet seat cover, you take a final look at yourself in the mirror, brushing your hair out of your eyes before nervously reaching for the shower door with shaking hands.

He's still standing with his chiselled back towards you, letting the water rinse over his dirty hair and down between his shoulder blades with a slightly pinkish hue. "I'm so sorry about this," he mumbles uncomfortably and hands you your loofah behind his back. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Come on, Buck," you say as you dribble a little soap on the sponge, fighting the urge to let your gaze run all the way down to his thick thighs. "Don't beat yourself up, you know I'm always here for you."

"Still," he mumbles and goes silent as the loofah gently runs over his tense shoulders and traces down his spine.

The white soap bubbles work magic on his dirty skin and you make sure not to leave out a single square inch of his scarred backside as you wash him while fighting the urge to wrap your arms around his torso, telling him how glad you are that he not alone came home, but also that he came to you seeking help instead of barricading himself in his room. It seems significant that he's here, as if something's changed between you though you cannot put your finger on it.

Completely lost in thought, you accidentally run the loofah a little too vigorously over his right tricep, sending shockwaves down his broken bone and resulting in a painful hiss falling from his open mouth.

"Sorry," you mumble, and scrub down his lower back, this time more careful with your movements though there aren't any dirty or bloody spots left on either side of his spine. "There we go" you conclude quietly when you realise that the rinsing water has finally lost its pink and grimy hue. "Turn around," you ask and hope he cannot hear the nervousness straining your voice. No matter what, you're not looking down.

Bucky seems just as jittery about his compromising position as you do, and he slowly spins around, revealing pink cheeks and heaving pecs, his gaze glued to the ceiling as he looks as if he's ready to fling himself off the nearest cliff. "God, sweetheart," he mumbles and breathes hard, "I'm so sorry for all this."

"Bucky, come on - what'd I tell you?" you touch the loofah to his chest, careful not to look anywhere than at the sponge itself as it traces over his collar bones and down his handsome stomach.

He merely sighs and stands completely still while you rinse the crevices between the metal plates over his left clavicle, careful not to move his torso so much he hisses in pain again.

"...You're a good friend," he mumbles after a few focused minutes where you've carefully been scrubbing the gold-plated lines in the vibranium, "- I ever tell you that?"

"All the time," you smile genuinely for the first time since he knocked on your door earlier that evening. If there's one thing you can count on, it's that Bucky Barnes appreciates you more than anything.

"I mean it," he says, "never doubt that."

You look up into his eyes.

He looks so soft and innocent as he stands before you, face finally clean, wet hair sticking to his forehead while he professes his love for you. Even if it's just platonic, it makes your heart skip a beat.

"I know, Buck."

"Good," he nods and blinks a few times with heavy, wet lashes framing his cerulean eyes. The air between you is thicker than ever and for a brief moment, it looks as if he's about to lean in and kiss you, but you break the tension by looking away. You don't want to take advantage of his vulnerable state no matter how badly you want that kiss.

"You ready for the tub?" You ask him in a weirdly shaky voice.

He nods while an almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips. "Yeah," he says and turns off the water, quickly exiting the shower before you can take notice of the disappointment burning on his skin.

You dry your feet on the small fuzzy mat, carefully watching Bucky's naked backside as he tests the temperature in the tub by dipping his toe in the water before stepping over the porcelain edge, sitting himself down.

Immediately, he gives out a content sigh, and drapes right arm over his chest, supporting his broken elbow with vibranium fingers, and you finally deem the situation safe enough to approach him again.

"Want me to wash your hair?"

"Mmh" he hums with closed eyes, immediately more relaxed now that he's covered by water. "I don't deserve you."

You grab your shampoo bottle and push out a decent amount of liquid, pressing it to his warm scalp to the sound of an alleviated sigh falling from his lips as you carefully start massaging it into his roots.

"Does that feel good?" you ask through a smile.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he groans quietly, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter awake, "- feels amazing."

You're slowly lathering shampoo into his long hair, enjoying the feel of him underneath your fingertips, how his soft hair slips through your hands while also trying not to think too much about the kiss you robbed yourself of in the shower. You can hear how his breathing slowly steadies and you think that maybe he's in the early stages of sleep but then he unexpectedly heaves a deep breath -

"You know... I haven't been scared of death for a long time," he says so sudden, so seriously that you're immediately brought out of your trance as your every muscle freezes at his austere tone of voice. "I used to not care if I lived or died but... tonight didn't go as planned," he swallows thickly and you can see how his jaw tenses up as his voice becomes husky, "- they... had me."

"What?" you pant with mortification, your every skeletal muscle paralysed as your breathing picks up. You don't have to ask him who he's talking about.

"Sam and I, we were so sure of ourselves," he shakes his head with his gaze fixed on the wall straight ahead. "We thought had the perfect plan... I - I'm such an idiot, nothing ever runs smoothly with Hydra."

You can feel your heart thumping in your throat. "What happened?" You whisper.

"Sam was on the look-out while I got the hard drive," he mumbles, "it was so easy. It didn't even take me five minutes before I was heading back towards the safehouse," he gulps, "- of course it was an ambush. I should have realised the minute I set foot inside that building."

"You couldn't have known," you whimper softly and stroke his scalp, but he doesn't listen.

"- I thought I was..." the words drown in a heavy sigh, and he stares blankly into space while blinking the tears away.

"Buck," you whisper and can feel the pain radiating from every fibre of his entire being when you wrap your arms around his wet torso and hold him close to your chest.

"They took me to a room. Strapped me down," he takes a ragged breath, and you hold on to him even tighter, "I was sure that was it. I never thought I'd find myself home again."

"You're home now," you whisper and softly kiss his shoulder, hoping that he doesn't feel the tear that lands on top of his clavicle. "You're home now with me."

"I know, sweetheart," he leans into your hug with a sigh, "trust me, I know."

"Everything's gonna be alright, love," you whisper against him and stroke your hand over his hair, "it's you and me against the world, always."

"You and me," he quietly confirms and leans back into your chest with a deep breath.

You continue stroking him over the hair, hold on to him for dear life, not willing to let go as you feel him relax more and more in your arms until he starts snoring slightly, finally warm and safe in your embrace.

"Buck, come on," you instinctively kiss him right below his ear, "you're sleeping. Let's get you into bed."

"Sorry," he mumbles groggily and lets his head fall back against your shoulder. "m'just so fucking tired. Been up thirty-six hours..."

"We'll talk tomorrow," you kiss him again and unwillingly unwrap yourself from around his chest, standing up straight beside him. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise."

He's looking up at you with puppy eyes, gaze slowly travelling down your body and up again as if he hadn't realised you were in your lingerie until that exact moment. "You look beautiful," he says quietly and you half-expect him to laugh it off, but his face stays serious.

"...Thanks," you croak while handing him the fluffy towel, not sure how to react to his sweet words. He's called you many things, but he's never downright called you beautiful before.

"I can take it from here, sweetheart," he nods slowly and steals one last glance down at your body, "you just go to bed. I'll be in in a minute."

"Okay," you whisper and peel yourself away from the tension between you by swiftly turning around, exiting the bathroom.

Back in your room, you barely have time to get out of your wet underwear and put on a fresh set of pyjamas, before a boxer-clad Bucky joins you on the bed.

"Are you still okay with me staying the night?" He asks, nervously.

"Of course I am," you answer immediately and find his vibranium hand underneath the covers, lacing your fingers between his as you scan his weary features. "See if you can get some sleep, okay? You need it," you brush a strand of wet hair away from his face and make sure he's fine by gently cupping his cheek before closing your eyes, hoping he's following your lead, doing the same.

The dark room goes completely quiet for a few minutes where the only audible sound is of your synchronised breathing.

You can feel yourself grow impossibly tired too as you lie there hand in hand with Bucky, and you're just about to succumb to sleep, when suddenly, his quiet whisper breaks the silence.

"I thought about you," he says softly, and it makes you open your eyes again.

You're staring straight into his handsome face, his beautiful blue eyes scanning over your features as he slowly clarifies.

"When they had me strapped down, I thought about you," he moves his fingers against the palm of your hand and completely engulfs you. "The thought of not seeing you again was..." the words die in his throat, and he looks as if he's seconds away from whimpering. "- Sweetheart, you make me so afraid of dying."

You breathe hard with quivering lips, huge eyes matching his as you let his confession sink in.

"I was so desperate to come home, I snapped the restraints in half. Snapped my own elbow along with them," he winces slightly at the painful memory that once again makes your stomach churn. "Sweetheart, I fought like hell. I don't think I've ever been so angry... I - I killed everyone I could get my hands on, I just had to see you again," he brings your hand to his soft lips and kisses the delicate pulse point of your wrist.

"Buck..." a slow whine escapes your throat as you try to blink away a stubborn tear that slowly starts rolling down the side of your nose.

"I love you," he whispers so softly against your thin skin that you almost don't hear. His eyes are closed and he looks relieved to be lying here with you, so you carefully pull his hand to your chest, placing his vibranium palm above your heavily beating heart.

"I love you too."

"Sweetheart," he whispers above you and moves his hand a little on top of your soft pyjamas while lightly shaking his head with a sigh. "No, you don't understand..." he gulps and searches your face, "I love you."

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"- I want more than this," he slowly admits. "I want to be more than your friend. I'm in love with you."

You squeeze his hand and move a little closer to him, scared that he'll stop confessing his love if you say something to throw him off track.

He holds on to you and can feel how your pulse starts racing underneath your pyjamas. "I hope I'm not scaring you off."

"No, no you're not," you say in a hoarse voice, "not at all. I - I think about you all the time."

"You do?" He breathes hard, clearly not believing what he's hearing.

"Yeah," you merely nod and move your head a little closer to him while he does the same. "I'm in love with you too, Buck. Have been for quite some time."

With a serious look, he moves his hand from off your chest and up to your face where he brushes a finger over the delicate features of your cheekbone and down to your jawline. "I'm gonna kiss you now," he warns in a whisper and waits for you to give him a nod before he reaches his head forwards, finally claiming your mouth with his lips.

His hand snakes down the length of your spine and you press your entire front up against his hard chest and stomach while he caresses the small of your back, slipping his soft tongue inside your mouth. "God," he moans and gently grabs hold of your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him. "You make me feel whole again," he whispers against your skin and kisses a small line from your earlobe and down to the base of your clavicle. "What do you say sweetheart?" he mumbles and nibbles at your skin, "can I take you out?"

"Yeah, Buck, you can take me out," you squeeze his hand, and he smiles for the first time that evening, setting everything inside of you aflame.

He's finally smiling and it's because of you.

"I wanna do it the old-fashioned way," he says, beaming, "bring you flowers. Take you dancing. Show you how you're supposed to be treated."

You can't help but chuckle at his soft innocence. "You're an old man," you brush him over his hair, "nobody goes dancing anymore."

"I'll teach you," he chuckles back but lets it turn into a sharp hiss when he accidentally moves his broken elbow.

"That sounds lovely," you admit with a smile, excited at the prospect of having his hands on your hips while he tells you what to do, "- though I'm afraid we'll have to get that elbow sorted first if you want to manoeuvre me around on the dancefloor. I know you don't see the point in going but... med wing tomorrow morning?"

"Okay," he rolls his eyes with a laugh that makes your stomach go all warm and fuzzy. "If it gets me to go dancing with you just an hour earlier, it's worth the trip... Will you go with me?"

"Yeah, I'll go with you," you kiss his hand, and he chuckles so warmly your stomach lights up again. "I'll go with you always."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Fluff #Angst #Bucky barnes

[fanficsonthebrain]

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝒑𝒐𝒚𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, daddy kink, dark Steve, lactation kink, breeding kink, a/b/o dynamics, some feet stuff, oral (female receiving), 18+ minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve is horny but you’re asleep. That doesn’t mean he won’t have his fun…

(𝑨/𝑵): This is heavy with the somno, so please beware of that! If it isn’t your cup of tea, feel free to ignore and move on! 

It’s only 11 at night when Steve walks back into his house. Sam and Bucky are still at the party, but Steve had grown bored within an hour. The truth was, parties didn’t hit the same anymore. Just a bunch of drunk assholes and slutty cheerleaders grinding against each other in a dark haze of alcohol and weed. And as much as Steve tried to enjoy himself, his mind would always drift back to you.

His little omega, perfectly quiet and shy. Safe and sound in his bedroom (he’d locked the doors of the house before he’d left, lest you sneak out. Not that you ever would). Sometimes, he drags you along to these parties only because you look so deliciously uncomfortable and cling to him in the sexiest way. He also likes showing you off from time to time, knowing that the other alphas would kill to have you.

Keep reading

#steve rogers #Dark!alpha!steve x reader #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!steve x reader #Smut

[fanficsonthebrain]

𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑙𝑦𝑛 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦

♥*♡∞:｡.｡ Pairing: dbf!/alpha!Steve Rogers x omega!reader

Warnings: age gap! breeding kink! virginity kink! sort of naive!reader a/b/o dynamics! | 18+ MINORS DNI!

Summary: As your [mafia!]father’s right-hand man, Steve’s always protected you—now that you’re of age for courting, he’s made it his mission to make you his omega. something you’ve been dreaming of your whole life.

please don’t repost my fics anywhere thank you ❤️

The sun dances along your bedroom walls, beaming through the waving, white, soft curtains on your room’s balcony; bringing a cool breeze of the New York winter in.

A knock is what startles you from sleep, your head popping up from your pile of pillows, hair tangled and spit smeared over your bottom lip, leading down the right corner of your mouth.

“Ms. Collins?” Your housekeeper, Kelly, speaks softly, knocking on the door again, wiggling the lock french door’s knob.

“Wait, wait -” you sigh, trying to get out of bed, ending up in a war with your blankets, kicking them away as you finally reach the door. You open the door and tuck your hair back behind your ears.

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#oh my god i love them #alpha!steve x omega!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #Smut #Alpha!steve

[fanficsonthebrain]

Pie-eyed over you Series Masterlist

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Each chapter has its own warnings but in general, this story will contain weapons, murder and a hell lot of sweets.

You can also read it on AO3.

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Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 (26 March)

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#bucky barnes #Series #mob!bucky barnes x reader