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#Bucky Barnes x younger reader
slyyywriting · 8 months
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On Bended Knees
Pairing: DILF!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: being on your knees can be fun
Wordcount: 700+
Warnings: the sloppiest of all the toppies
18+ ONLY! IF YOU ARE A MINOR, KINDLY EXIT STAGE LEFT! DO NOT INTERACT!
A/N: @cocobutterqwueen sent me on a time out but the need to svck is much much stronger for this Prada number. Written in 20 minutes. No beta; we die in blind lust.
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It’s sloppy. And noisy; nasty.
But it’s also technical and methodical.
You were right where you wanted to be. Where you wished you would be. You used to dream of it from afar, caught up in your own little world. Biting your lip, twirling strands of your hair, drooling.
Almost deranged when you try to fit all of him in your mouth. Try to taste all of him on your tongue. You know it’s impossible but still you try your best because that is who you are-- his best girl.
“That’s it pretty girl. That’s it--” he huffs, sucking in a lungful of air. Praise on his lips while your lips pucker on his tip. Bucky grunts, hips moving forward. You gag and he almost apologizes but it’s replaced with another praise instead when you sees the corner of your mouth twitch.
It’s art. The way you look up at him with those eyes of yours. Full of love. Lust. Possession.
Your hands work double time. Wringing him, twisting and grinding. Milking him for what he’s worth.
“Fuck!” Bucky shouts in a whisper as you take him deeper. You were always so brave. Always ready to try whatever you thought was fun. And you do look like you’re having the time of your life. “You take me so well, princess. Yeah, you do.”
You hum, throat vibrating around his length. Your eyes are watery, mascara colored tears running down your cheeks. Your slobber and his precum mixing with every push, every pull. Drool runs out of the corners of your mouth, heavy with the color of his arousal. You gag again and Bucky chuckles. His hand shoots up, palm flat against the wall as he takes all of his patience not to fully thrust himself inside your warm mouth. He’d let you have your fun, go with the pace you want.
You pull him out of your mouth, a resounding pop that spreads a bubble of spit around his hardness. You pump him slowly, batting your lashes up at him. You smile, a messy and satisfied one. Bucky reaches out with his free hand, taking his cock and tapping your lips with it before rubbing it on them.
“So fucking pretty-” he says distractedly. Eyes glossy with lust as he looks down at you. He’s the luckiest bastard of the century, he thinks. Nothing compares to the feeling of you around him. No amount of drugs or jumping off planes without a parachute could give him the euphoria that you do. You get him high with your touches and your kisses.
You take him again, babbling as you suck and lick him. Batting his hand away to take over again, going lower until you kiss his balls. He could punch a whole on the wall as your nose presses against his cock while you suck on him.
“Oh fuck-- sweets--” you hum and Bucky clenches his hand into a fist. He’s so close but he doesn’t wanna blow his load yet. Not while you were still enjoying playing with him.
“Cum for me, Buck. It’s okay-” you whisper before you take him again. Deep, deep, deep until your nose hits his pelvis. A glob of spit falls on his tailored pants, rolling down like the first drop of snow in a quiet forest. He exhales, a hand reaching out to the back of your head until he reaches his peak.
You swallow around him, milking him over and over. His knees wobble by the time he’s dried out and pulls back. You open your mouth wide, swirling his essence on your tongue like a taunt. Proof that you have him in every drop. Then you gulp it all down and smile.
Bucky chuckles darkly and he’s hard again. He wipes off whatever escaped out your lips with his thumb, cleaning you off slowly. He pulls you up by the elbow and licks his thumb.
“I can see why you like this so much, pretty girl.” he smirks and takes his pocket square to clean you up better.
“Told you you were sweet as hell, Barnes.” You stand there and preen. You liked it when he called you that. Pretty girl.
“You’re the only one I’m sweet on.” Bucky picks up his pants that have fallen around his ankles and zips himself up. You wrap your arms around him as you both go back to the party you don’t even remember what for.
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fineprintedsunsets · 7 months
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JAWBREAKER
This Is For Haunted Hoedown Day 1 | My Haunted Hoedown Master-List
Synopsis: Bucky's been hired to watch you as a favor to his best friend; your father. But when a game of spin the bottle has Bucky choking on his words, he just can't help himself anymore.
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: age gap (both are consenting adults). dbf!bucky x f reader. mentions of violence against others (nothing undeserved) jealous bucky. unprotected sex. (wrap it before you tap it.) dirty talk. possessive bucky. p in v sex. is a hired bodyguard a stalker? maybe? idk. lots of praise + pet names.
taboo au + "this is fucked up" "you like it"
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How Bucky ended up at a Halloween party for drunk teenagers was a mystery. A ghost-themed one at that. Kids who he wasn't even sure should be drinking clutched red solo cups filled with various alcohol, laughing obnoxiously and passing hushed whispers.
He rolled his eyes.
Teenagers.
He was sent here by your father, and although he loved the man (practically his best friend) this was the one event he regretted agreeing to accompany you to. You were 19, and why you wanted to go to a ghost-themed party with sixteen and seventeen-year-olds was beyond him.
Nevertheless, he agreed to supervise you for your father's sake. The second he steps foot through the frilly-decorated entrance, he smells the overpowering scent of marijuana and Axe cologne.
Thank god he didn’t grow up in an era where boys would wear that shit and think they were the coolest fuckers around. His nose turns up, turning to its source. It was indeed three teenage boys with what must have been a gallon of gel in their hair and crooked smiles splayed on their features.
They accompany a girl at the table, he can't see her features due to the blocking backs of the boys, but he can see one of them lift their fingers to brush ever so slightly against her arm.
The girl moves away, and when she does, Bucky's eyes catch on her.
It’s you, his best friend's daughter. He tries hard not to let his eyes linger on you, knowing he has only one job here tonight, and it’s to keep you out of harm's way. There was only one problem with that. Your father kept most of his work life hidden away from his wife and since he worked with a lot of cruel people, he decided not to involve you either.
Which means you had never met his best friend. You didn’t even know he had one. Bucky was sent here to watch you from afar, your dad didn’t want you to know he sent someone to supervise you every single time you went out.
You pass the boy a look, awkwardly shaking your head. You attempt to laugh it off and walk away, but the boy grabs your wrist. Bucky bristles where he stands against a wall, having just entered.
He can’t approach you, he couldn’t risk you finding out who he was. But oh how he wanted to break all twenty-eight of Jelly Hair’s pitiful knuckles.
“Let go, Jake.” You growl out, but Jelly Hair won’t let up, wrapping his digits around your tiny wrist and forcing you to sit back down. It angers him, how the other boys he’s sitting with laugh at his antics.
A loud crunching sound echoes from someone over at your table and Bucky leans away from the wall, getting ready to intercept, thinking he may have hit you. He should be ashamed of the anger that blossoms through his chest.
Jake’s fingers slip from your wrist as the other boys jump up. Jelly Hair turns toward the door where Bucky is standing, allowing him to spectate the blood now running from his nose.
He can’t help the smile that graces his features.
You hit him.
“My girl” Bucky finds himself whispering. He tucks his hand in his pockets, moving away from the entrance and more profound into whoever's house this is. White lights flash from the rooms as music blares from speakers in the living room.
Everyone is dressed like a ghost, some people; like you are wearing a t-shirt that displays a cute drawing of a supernatural creature. Others wear sheets with glasses placed overtop of them, or uneven eye-holes cut out of the white fabric.
Bucky grabs a solo cup and fills it up with Cola, the only non-alcoholic drink on the ping-pong table. His metal fingers grip the cup and bring it to his lips, only to spit it back into the cup.
“What the fuck.” He mutters, scrunching his face in distaste. He does a double take on the bottle, bringing the contents up to his nose, Rum.
It’s fucking Rum Coke.
He takes the cup anyway, having no intention to sip from it anymore. He blends in this way, holding a solo cup just like the other hundred people here. His blue eyes search for you in the crowd, spotting you right away, your body settled on the lap of a man, early 20’s he’d say.
A feeling he’s all too familiar with when it comes to you surges through his veins, seeing the white skirt you're wearing hike up, allowing him and everyone else to see his hand knead at your ass.
Bucky’s jaw clenches as he watches you lean into the man, your lips wrapping around his, your eyes closing. Bucky has no idea who he is, but whoever he is, his dick is growing hard under you, having very clear intentions of what he’s about to do. And Bucky will be damned if he allows you to get fucked by this piece of shit.
Not that it should matter to him. You should have a man that would treat you right, protect you, pleasure you. Not this dick-wad who wants a quick fuck. Your father wanted him to keep you out of trouble, and that’s exactly what he’s doing.
At least, it’s what he tells himself.
Bucky watches for a few more seconds as you rub yourself over his cock, painfully humping it. He knows you aren’t getting any pleasure out of it, it’s evident on your face. The dick-wad beneath you is, and that’s what makes Bucky’s fingers ball into tight fists, making him grind his teeth down again, on the verge of breaking his goddamn jaw.
That’s what you were.
A fucking jawbreaker, surely you were smarter than this. You had to have known you were worth so much more. You had to know dick-wad couldn’t make up for a quarter of that amount.
“Spin the bottles starting downstairs!” A girl announces from the banister. She’s drunk, very drunk, Bucky notices. She also must be the owner of the way her fingers wrap around the railing.
He could just tell.
Bucky feels the relief flood his chest when you turn away from the man, clearly seeing a good excuse for escape. He growls but lets you go as he soon follows suit. Bucky has no interest in watching you play spin the bottle, but of course, he has not all a choice.
He couldn’t decide whether it was his job, (why he was here in the first place, he’s had to repeat that to himself a few times throughout the night.) Or because he didn’t want to watch a bunch of horny teenagers shove their fucking tongues down your throat, heat bloomed in his chest, mixing with anger.
Either way, he would have to break more than fourteen knuckles tonight.
Bucky’s already taken his place on the wall, going unnoticed as the kids gather around in a circle, sitting with their legs crossed, fixated on the bottle that is situated in the middle.
You sit on the right side, next to some other girls he recognizes.
Women.
You were 19 years old for god sake.
The woman from earlier, the owner of the house, Bucky had now learned the name of, Jess plops next to the man from earlier, her eyes analyzing all the players. Other people stand, just here to spectate the game, giving Bucky plenty of cover.
“We need one more player!” Her voice slurs, looking up from her sitting position, searching for the correct person to fill the gap right across from you. Your eyes search around with Jess’s until both pairs land on him.
No.
Absolutely fucking not.
“What’s your name?”
Bucky grinds his teeth together again, he’ll be very surprised if he has teeth after tonight.
“James.” He grits out, trying his very best to seem like he doesn't want to be here. Which isn’t very hard.
He doesn't.
“You look a bit old to be here, James.” Jess' eyes roam the others, looking for the attention she so desperately wants. The others let out faux chuckles. Bucky can still feel your eyes burning through his, even though over fifty pairs are now aimed at him, you stick out.
You always have.
“Who invited their dad, guys?” Jess pokes again, her ghastly features twisting in a terrible laugh. Other people laugh now, but Bucky doesn’t mind. You don’t laugh, your features scrunch at Jess’s words. The man didn’t look old at all, older than a teenager sure, he was quite handsome.
“Come on, James. Join us!” You call, and the man's eyes immediately meet yours. You can’t help yourself, you gasp at the intensity of them, the beautiful blue irises that stare back at you.
Bucky still didn’t move from the wall, it was very evident he had no choice in this matter. “A little party never killed anybody, James.” Jess’s cat-like mouth squeaks.
“Bucky-” He corrects, heaving a sigh. “Just Bucky.” Bucky walks over to the circle, watching the gathering crowd part. Allowing him to sit like the rest of them, occupying the spot across from you.
“Let’s get started, Anon, Why don’t you spin first?”
Anon, a very stereotypical frat boy reaches for the bottle, his companions cheering behind him. The glass spins as everyone's eyes follow it, even Bucky’s.
The end lands on Jess, which is ironic. Bucky is checking off his mental checklist, he’s no matchmaker but..
Obnoxious Voices. Check. Annoying Presence. Check. Feline Like Faces. Check. Rich Pieces Of Shit. Check.
Those two were made for each other.
The two kiss awkwardly, the whole crowd kicking and screaming taunts, acting like children who just touched a deceased insect. Bucky settles into the hard-concrete floor, getting ready for a very excruciating game.
It’s about an hour before you finally get the bottle in your hands. Everyone waits on bated breath as you capture your bottom lip between your teeth. You grab the bottle and spin, watching the glass glide across the concrete floor.
It clicks and clanks before it stops, and the endpoints to the stranger.
The older man that’s been stuck to the wall the whole party. You’ve never seen him before but were quite intrigued when you caught him looking at you during the game, pretending as if he wasn't.
The stranger's eyes flick open, looking at the end pointed towards him and then where you sit across from him. You smile to yourself as Bucky stays in his position.
The chanting starts when Jess’s voice echoes through the room, “You have to kiss the old man!” She’s 20, but acts like a five-year-old.
“Kiss!”
“Kiss!”
“Kiss!”
People around you repeat, and so you do the only logical thing to do. You place your hands in front of you and crawl to Bucky, knowing full well your skirt is riding up as you do so.
You can see his jaw clenching. You arrive in front of him, propping yourself up on your knees, Bucky's eyes look up at where you slightly tower over him.
You reach your fingers to graze his jaw, and when your fingers meet his subtle, the fifty pairs of eyes disappear. Right now, it’s just you and him. “Come here.” You mutter, bringing his face to yours.
Bucky hesitates, but lets it happen anyway. He’s captivated by you, you can tell. He wants to pull away but can’t.
Time seems to slow as your eyes close and your noses touch, stopping before letting your lips meet each other. Heat builds in your stomach, anticipation and want bubbling deep inside your core.
“This is fucked up.” He whispers, his breath grazing your wet lips.
“You like it.” You answer, before pulling his face to yours, your lips colliding in perfect harmony. Heat fills your stomach, settling itself between your thighs. Bucky’s hand comes up to cup your scalp, molding his palm to your head, crushing his lips against yours.
Your tongue slides into his mouth, entangling with his own. Your breath heaves as your stomach urges for more, your thighs pressing together in your kneeling position. You pull away before you can go any farther, breath heaving, a string of saliva still connecting your puffy lips.
The words that exit his mouth are barely audible, but you catch them. “That’s why it’s fucked up.”
“Get a room, lovebirds,” Jess calls, laughing with the others. But you ignore them, your eyes are still pulled into that trance, still feeling Bucky’s lips on yours.
The next thing you know, Bucky is getting up, his hand reaching for your own. You gulp at his gaze now, seeing the intensity switch to something different.
Something primal.
✪ Somehow you ended up in a closet, with Bucky’s breath fanning over your neck, his cock painfully straining against his jeans. It took all but four seconds for your clothes to be off, Bucky’s joined yours short after, pooling on the floor of the large closet.
“Sweetheart-” Bucky sounds breathless as he reaches out, his metal hand (which you okay with, apparently) running down the curve of your breast, dipping in your bra to twirl a cool digit around your semi-hard peak. (Especially when they made you feel like that.)
“How old are you?” You press, moaning as Bucky’s other hand cups your waist, making sparks fly up and down your skin. This closet, which is bigger than the master bedroom, has suddenly gotten small.
Bucky fights the urge to smack your ass in response, you didn’t care about age when you were grinding on that man’s cock.
“106.” He answers thoughtfully, but you only laugh, catching he wasn’t going to tell you his age. Bucky’s face scrunches in wonder, but it quickly fades when you press your body into his own, running your smooth fingers over his muscled abdomen.
“You sure you want to do this, baby?”
“Positive.”
Bucky brings your lips to his, all while taking hold of your hips, backing you into one of the closet's white walls. You engrossed in his touch, the feel of his fingers on your bare stomach, pushing you against the wall.
“I’d make you hump my cock, ‘show you what real pleasure is. But there’s no couch in here, sweet girl.” You feel your pussy clench at his words, you hadn’t known he was watching you then.
“Just gonna have to take me bare,” Bucky mutters, his hands grabbing your back, flipping you around so your palms are planted above you, your ass jutting out. His fingers knead at the meat of your ass, making sure to erase any hand-prints dick-wad may have left. You moan, bucking into his touch, wanting more.
“Greedy girl, you think you deserve my cock? Bare, too? You think you can handle that type of pleasure?” His fingers ghost over your panties, barely hitting your clit.
“Bucky! Please.”
Bucky smiles, knowing what he’s doing to you. If he wasn’t about to fuck you in a closet at a party he would tease you a lot more, and make you pay for letting that man touch you. You both knew you couldn’t wait that long, and neither could he.
Bucky pulls down your panties, noticing how your slick coats the fabric. “These are drenched, all for me, hmm?” He was so hesitant at first, to kiss and touch you, but now he didn’t give a shit.
You were his now.
Your panties soon joined the rest of your clothes. Bucky’s breath caught when he looked down at you, making your thighs clench together. He runs a metal finger through your folds, collecting your slick.
You cry out from the spark of pleasure, attempting to keep yourself up against the wall.
“You're so wet for me, sweet girl.” You feel lightheaded as Bucky releases himself from his boxers, you can’t see anything, only the white paint of the wall.
You can feel his tip nudge at your entrance, as he leans down, placing soft kisses along your back. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Okay? You want to be filled with my cock?”
“Yes!” You buck your hips, your eyes tightly closed as you feel his cock slide itself to the hilt, using your gathered arousal to aid in his thrust. You cry out, the stretch is both painful and pleasurable. Bucky groans, feeling the way you clench around his cock, feeling the tightness of your cunt.
“That’s it, sweet girl. Taking me so well.” For a few moments, you just stand there, Bucky letting you adjust to his cock, to the feeling of being filled up completely. You had sex before, plenty of it, but you never took a guy bare.
But Bucky, the way his cock sat inside of you, not even moving and it still shooting sparks into your stomach, was something you’d never thought you’d experience.
“Can I move, baby? You alright?” You nod your head while Bucky places another kiss on your back, pulling his cock out to the tip, and pushing back in.
“Ahh-”
“Feel good, sweetgirl?” Words simply do not exist anymore, Bucky whispers against you with each thrust of his cock, his movements slow at first, allowing you to take the most pleasure out of it, trying so hard not to cause you any pain.
The wet noises of your body's meeting over and over again fill the air, and somehow it drowns out the music of the party. Bucky’s groans and your moans tangle together as you buck your hips to meet his thrust, accommodating his cock.
“So good, baby.” You clench at his words, milking his cock. Bucky smiles, looking down at you.
Bucky’s metal arm comes around your bare stomach, making your thighs fall open wider, “Like when I praise you? Your pretty little pussy loves when I tell her she’s doing a good job, baby.”
A single digit finds your clit, Bucky rubs at it, slow tantalizing circles as you buck into him.
“I want you to come on my cock, I need to see this pussy clench around me harder.” Your body involuntarily does as he asks, your cunt clenching down on his cock as his thrusts speed their tempo and his finger matches the torture at your clit.
“Fuck!” You cry out, feeling your orgasm stirring deep in your belly, the heat from the room going straight to your head, encasing you in its bubble.
“That’s it.” Bucky praises, dragging out both words, “Good girl, come for me.”
You do, moaning loudly as your orgasm rushes through your veins, as Bucky chases his release, making sure you get over the edge first. His breaths come out in pants as his cock pushes into your cunt at a punishing speed. “I wonder how your daddy would feel if he knew you just came on his best friend's cock.”
“What?”
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shamrockqueen · 6 months
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Father figure
Pairing : Best Friend’s Dad Bucky x Reader
Warnings : Angst, Bad friends, Older man younger woman Dynamic, (age references removed and reader is recounting it as an adult)
Word count : 2167
AO3 page Link
Chapter 1 link
Chapter 2
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Things stayed quiet, but at least they kind of got better. It had been a week or two since you’d welcomed Becky and her family back into your life.
A pounding at your window around 12pm woke you from an already uncomfortable sleep. You looked over at the drawn curtains, waiting for the sound again.
A *Knock knock knock* at the window of your ground-floor bedroom.
You pushed out of bed, readjusting your messy t-shirt and shorts as you groggily walked to the curtains. You weren’t surprised to see Becky on the other side of the glass, her dark hair nearly blending in with the night.
She didn’t look very happy, and her frustration was even more evident when she tried to jerk open the locked window. It wasn’t a new sight to see an angry Becky trying to force her way into your room, a popular choice of hers for when she had been out doing something she shouldn’t have and needed a place to hide before absconding by midnight.
"Open up!" You could hear her through the glass before you finally unlocked the window and pulled it up, and she immediately crawled past you.
"You can’t be yelling this late at night; you're gonna to wake my mom up."
"Whatever!" She stomped towards your bed before throwing herself onto it and grappling at one of your teddy bears.
You have a huff before shutting the window and locking it again.
"What’s wrong?" You slumped back onto the other side of the bed as you tried to find what made her mad this time.
"It doesn’t fuckin matter." A classic Becky move, but you’d played this game before, and with enough prying, you’d get her to talk instead of sulking into one of your old teddy bears.
"Clearly it mattered to you because you were here at almost 1 in the morning instead of asleep."
"Shut up!" She turned and tossed the bear at you, clearly choosing to act more like a child than her actual age.
"Keep your voice down. You wake my mom up, and she’s gonna kick you out again." You seethed before throwing the stuffed animal back at her, only to miss and hit the wall beside the bed.
Becky dropped her arms from above her head to her sides, hitting the bed with a thump. "Everything’s just so stupid; it fucking sucks." She grumbled, but at least she made an effort to keep her voice down.
"What happened?" You ask tiredly, rubbing your eyes as you wait for an answer.
"I called my mom today." She answered meekly. Conversations with her mom often brought out the worst in her, making it unsurprising that she’d snuck out to blow off steam.
"What’d she say?" You asked worriedly, not waking to try to break the already weak foundation that Becky stood on.
"She said I couldn’t visit her this summer. She said that she and STUPID Mason and their STUPID kids already planned their vacation, and that she can’t just change her plans at the drop of a hat because I want her to."
You just laid beside her, silent in the dark, as a sob cut through the air, and you turned to see streaks of tears training down her face. Becky had such a complicated relationship with her mom, especially when she often thought she had to compete with a new family.
"Why do you want to visit her anyway? You hate the twins, and you hate your stepdad." You say this quietly as you sit up to look at your friend. "Every time you visit, you call me to tell me how snotty they are and how crappy they treat you."
He huffed a small laugh before answering, "I know, but…it’s just that she doesn’t call anymore. She doesn’t visit. She doesn't care." She hugged the pillow as her voice grew weaker.
"That can’t be true; all moms have to care at least a little. I mean, you're her kid; she can’t just forget about you." You always tried to reassure her, but her face just continued to fall.
"It feels like she’s trying to."
"You still have your dad." Your words rang in your ears just as you said them. The memory of that night is still heavy in your mind. Just the way his psyche must have shattered to propel him to do what he did made you shudder a little.
"There’s something wrong with him." Every word added a little more weight to your heavy heart as she spoke. You feared how much she really knew and who she would be mad at the most.
"What do you mean?" You didn’t turn to look at her as you spoke, not wanting her to catch a glimpse of guilt in your eyes, even in the dark.
"He’s just been acting really off lately, like…he won’t talk to me, and it just feels like he’s trying to avoid me now. Ever since that party, he’s just shut off."
You could feel your stomach knowing together as she spoke. You have a very good idea why he’s acting so uncomfortably, but it’s not something you could tell her.
"He just doesn’t want to see you get like that. I mean, he is your dad; stuff like that is going to upset him."
"It’s not the same. He’s never been this upset before. It’s like he’s shut down or something." Her eyes start to tear up as she continues, "Maybe this time I finally made him snap."
"No way. It just has to be a lot of stress on him."
"I don’t know. Something’s just wrong."
The crack in your nerves deepened painfully as she spoke. You knew very well what was wrong and why. Something was wrong, very wrong, and there was nothing you could do to fix it now. You just stared out at the ceiling, waiting for her to talk again.
Instead, she seemed to nod off before you found the ability to even find sleep. No, you were still so shaken by the new knowledge you had found that you lay there motionless instead.
A small light lit up beside you. A notification beaming out into your room from where Becky’s phone sat on your charger.
You leaned out of bed as your eyes adjusted to the new source of light to see Mr. Barnes’ picture blink across the screen as the silent call fell to Becky’s voicemail.
You look back at her and then back at the phone, just tapping the screen to see the number of messages her father left her.
She sneaks out a lot, but she more than often ends up sleeping off her night on your bedroom floor. This gave Mr. Barnes at least some peace of mind not to go running out into the night for his daughter, but he was still her father and had desperately tried reaching out to Becky.
The first few times Becky had snuck out, it had caused a lot of trouble, and he’d come speeding through the neighborhood trying to find her.
Now, he could easily drive by and spot her bike propped up against your mailbox, giving him some peace of mind to at least know she was somewhere safe.
You let her phone screen fade before letting your eyes readjust to the dark to find your phone next to hers. You unlock it and tap on your contacts icon to dig up her father’s number.
His contact photo lights up the screen. A happy photo from when he’d taken you and Becky out to see Jurassic Park. An undone blue button-up, a white tank top, and a pair of shades making him seem so much more striking than he was before. Even the loose bun that held together his once shoulder-length hair brought new definition to his smiling face; it made it seem like more and more of a shame that he’d since cut it short.
Shaking the thought away, you tuck your phone to your side before looking back at the still-sleeping Becky and slipping out of bed and snuck towards the door. Becky still snored on the other side of the room as you ducked into the hall and towards the bathroom.
The hallway is just as dark and more eerily quiet as you looked over at your mother’s room, which sat only a few feet in the other direction. You let your eyes fall on to the lightly colored wood, turned to a gray hue under the heavy blanket at night.
You quietly and carefully cross through to the bathroom before letting yourself lean onto the sink to take a quick and nervous breath. You pulled your phone from where you kept it clasped to your chest and tapped in your password to open it again. His picture lights up the screen once again before your thumb slides over the call button.
You held it to your ear as it rang for a spell. Each extra ring made your heart beat just a little slower as you waited for him to pick up the phone.
When the voicemail popped up, a heavy breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto escaped past your lips, and your heart sank into your stomach.
You ended the call without leaving a message, and you just leaned there before sitting back heavily onto the shaggy cloth toilet seat cover.
You took a few seconds before opening the phone back up and clicking the call button again.
The phone rang once, then twice…then it stopped abruptly, replaced by the sound of the other line being handled before a familiar voice filled the phone.
"Hey. Sorry, I uh…missed your call." You heard him take a deep breath before continuing with, "Is everything okay?"
"Uh, yeah. I just wanted to let you know Becky’s here. She’s still asleep right now." You spoke in a whisper, making sure not to wake up anyone in the house.
"Oh, thank God. How long has she been there?"
"I think she came straight over. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner."
"No, it's fine. Thank you for letting me know." His voice didn’t seem fully relieved before he continued with, "D-did she tell you why she left?"
It was a question he hadn’t asked you before. He’d long since lost hope in understanding his daughter's misbehavior, but something in his voice seemed more fearful than before.
"I…um…just some drama with her mom, and…she." You almost couldn’t get the last few words out, as they choked up in your throat.
You stared at the tiled floor beneath your feet before finally finishing your sentence. "And she said that something seemed off. That you didn’t seem like yourself, I guess."
You could hear him swallow over the phone, taking a deep breath afterward before leaving an air of silence over the call.
"I am so sorry." He spoke so quietly that it almost couldn’t be heard over the phone. His voice was broken; it was so painful to hear it.
You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Your throat seemed to just close up as your fingers tightened around the phone until it shook a little in your hand.
"I…I can try to get her home after school tomorrow, Mr. Barnes." It’s all you could think to say. Anything to avoid discussing what had happened, how it had made you feel, and what the consequences would be.
"That would be a great help, but I can take care of it. Thank you." There was still something off with his voice, like a deep crack forming on what was once unbreakable glass. "Just make sure she gets to school, alright?"
"Yes sir."
"Thank you; now just get some sleep, ok sweetheart?"
The term of endearment made your heavy heart flutter for a single second before you answered, "Okay, goodnight, sir." And the call ended with a quick click.
You hold your phone back to your chest as you take a shallow breath, remembering all that had transpired between you and Mr. Barnes. The memory still made you feel an odd but warm sensation along your body, as well as a deep ache at the thought of the same memory causing him misfortune.
A knock at the bathroom door startled you. Making you jump back and hit the tiled wall with the back of your head.
You panic and flush the empty toilet beside you, trying to create an alibi and not wanting either person in the house to know about your phone call.
You quickly tuck your phone into your shorts pocket, switch on the sink, and start washing your hands.
"Hurry up." Becky’s voice through the door made the terrible feeling in your stomach curdle even further.
Finally, you open the door to Becky’s tired face before she pushes past you with a grunted "gotta pee."
You speedily walk back to the bedroom as the bathroom door clicks shut behind her.
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Text
Everyone deserves a second chance, right?..even family?
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Summary; Your Bucky’s younger brother, you hadn’t many memories of how he was because he died a couple years ago. But then everything goes black after seeing the Winter Soldier in your home, and waking up in a very different place.
The reader is male but its mainly you/yours being used most of the time :)
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The year was 1961, a very interesting year for many you in particular, a tape you had decided to watch was of your older brother. You hadn’t much memories of him as he was alive sometime in the 40’s, you here at the age of sixteen was forced to sit in silence, the small building you were in was obviously small but good enough for one person. You had been raised from person to person, now unfortunately you were by yourself, all alone, honestly you wished you could be with your late brother, Howard Stark was still alive so why couldn’t your brother be? You silently cried to yourself, there was many people who trusted you for being related to Sargent Barnes, others who didn’t just because you were related to him. You had little money and that meant not much food, a job you had didn’t pay much but it kept a roof over your head. The tape you had been watching ended and you took out the tape, so now it was the start of your shift. You hadn’t realized the time and you were unfortunately late, again, when you finally got to work your boss had yelled at you at the fact you were late once again and if you were late again, you would be fired. Your day kept going downhill, left and right complains about how you were going too slow or the tea tasted bad. Now was just your luck, the table who was waiting to start ordering no other has Howard Stark and his wife. “Apologies for the wait, we are quite busy,” you said, tiredly. “What would you like to drink?.any ideas of what you want to eat?” you said, holding a small notebook getting ready to write the couple’s order down. The couple had ordered two top sirloin steaks with two cups of red wine, a couple minutes went by and so you came back with the couple’s food. “Um..Mr. Stark, apologies for possibly ruining the moment but back during the war, you knew my brother?..Bucky? or rather James Barnes. Uhm..sorry..thats..- actually nevermind..” you said looking go the side before Howard had replied with, “No, its fine, I’m very sorry for your lost. Perhaps visit sometime?” He gave you a business card, you nodded with a small ‘thank you.’ The rest of the night seemed to have gone off without a hitch, you might’ve only gotten a $5 tip but at least you may actually receive answers on your brother. Your shift was finally over and it was the dead of night, a cool breeze welcomed you as you got home, just to see the door was opened now is when you started to get scared because of the possibility of someone breaking in. You stepped inside, the atmosphere of your home was different than what it usually is, you saw some kind of figure sitting down in a chair near the kitchen table. “Hey..? Your not supposed to be here..” you said, slowly going towards the light then turning it on “Sir..?” you started walking slowly towards the man, grabbing a small kitchen knife. “Sir please, you need to leave,” the man did say something to you but you couldn’t understand it as he spoke in Russian. Then it hit you, the man looked like him, “Brother..? How? I..I thought you were dead,” you studded a bit. The man got up, walking towards you, “It’s me..! Your brother, [name] Barnes..!” fear seemed to overwhelm you, the last thing you saw was his metal arm going towards you before everything went black.
Location-???
You had woken up again but it wasn’t for long, you were strapped to a table, someone put a injection into your arm, which was promptly knocking you back out, Yet again you woke up just before you were put on ice, you made a struggle but it was put in vein as you were shoved into some kind of machine and froze.
Location-Wakanda
Your eyes widened as you woke up once again, you were alive? But you were also somewhere you didn’t recognize. You picked yourself up, it seemed you were in a lab, but it wasn’t like the one you had been in,if that was even a lab, your eyes met a young woman, she could be older than you, but even maybe around the same age. “Uhm..Excuse me..? Where- Where am I? Am I dead??” You panicked slightly, “You are not, but you’ve been asleep for almost 58 years.” The young woman said, “Tell me, do you remember your name?” She said, “It’s, It’s [name] barnes..? Yours?,” 
“Shuri. There’s someone who wants to see you, well? come on” Shuri said, you quickly nodded, following her.
Your breathing started up quickly when seeing your brother, you started to remember what you thought was him did to you. “Are..Are..” your words never came out, fear overfilling you again, “Hey, Hey, [name] calm down, its me Bucky” he softly put his hand on your shoulder. “I remember you being smaller” he remarked, “Its really you this time?.” You smiled a bit, slowly putting your arms around him, bits of fear still lurking, but in anyway you pulled him into a hug. “Brother..I thought I lost you..” you sobbed a bit. In all honesty your just happy you have a family again though now that your actually alive, perhaps there is such a thing as a second chance for family. But now there was so much you had to figure out now that it was no longer 1961. 
Bonus;
•You haven’t left your brother alone since you saw him again, but once you left Wakanda, to see Howard and you found out he died thats when you met Tony. :p 
•You ended up going to the school Peter goes to, which was different, very different.
•you either spend the majority of your time with Bucky or Steve.
Bucky because, he’s your brother you haven’t seen in years and want to see how he’s doing. But your mainly with Bucky, when your with Steve its honestly just because he was your brother’s best friend, but when Steve died, you were obviously detested so yea you mainly spend time with Bucky. Sometimes spending time with Peter 
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Not my gif!
i wanna know what else Bucky’s metal arm can do lmao
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marvelouslizzie · 7 months
Text
Same Lonely Night
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summary: Your roommate Bucky Barnes hears you pleasure yourself and moan something he never thought he would be into. That forces him to face his feelings for you.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
word count: 2.6K
warnings: 18+, masturbation, fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n
A/N: This is the second part of A Lonely Night. This time we are seeing Bucky's POV and what comes next. You don't have to read that part to understand what's going on but if you want to, you can find it on my blog/masterlist. I planned this as a 3-part story and I hope I'll maintain my inspiration and motivation to write the last part. Wish me luck!
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. You are the best!
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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Bucky’s head is resting on the shower wall while the water is running down. His flesh hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he doesn’t move it. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he’s trying to calm himself down. 
He really had no intention to listen to you. He was just watching the news mindlessly, but his enhanced hearing turned into a curse the moment he heard you taking a sharp breath. He couldn’t help but focus on the noises you made. That’s when he started to hear the way you were touching yourself. Every stroke, every rub, every muffled moan… 
He knew what you were doing was private and he had no right listening to it, but he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t. How could he? You were so needy and subby. Even in your fantasy, you were begging. He wondered what you were imagining. Who were you begging? Your crush? Maybe you have been seeing someone.
That thought had never occurred to him before. You were always in your element, working, chilling at home, doing whatever you enjoyed in your spare time, and occasionally going out with your friends. You never brought someone home. Not yet at least. So he never questioned if you were seeing someone or not. Even if there was someone, he wouldn’t know, and that thought suddenly hurts him.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your moans bring him back to reality. If you are seeing someone why are you so needy? Are you just that greedy or has it been that long? He’s certainly hoping for the latter. That’s something he can relate to, and it's probably been much longer for him. That’s why he can’t stop listening. That’s why his cock is painfully hard. Normally he would just remove himself from the house, and give you some space instead of creeping like this.
“Oh please, fuck me.” He would do anything to be able to do that. Anything. Just to be in that room with you, taking his time exploring your body and satisfying your needs. Even just the thought of it drives him crazy. “Fuck me, daddy, please.” 
That surprises him on so many levels. He never thought you would be into that. You look pretty innocent. He wouldn’t assume you would have such dirty fantasies. Fucking an old man… Are you into older men or is it just a little fantasy you are playing? Maybe you are seeing someone old. Maybe that’s why your mind goes there. He doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s going on in your private life, and every word that comes out of your mouth confuses him even more. It creates more problems, but the biggest one is, when he heard daddy, his dick twitched with excitement. So it makes him question himself, too. Is he into younger women or is it because you were the one saying it? The latter somehow seems more likely. Yet all of that doesn’t change the fact that he’s listening to you and getting hard just because of it. 
“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He hears how your head falls onto the pillow while your whole body is shaking, and how much you are enjoying it. He knows this is his cue. He should just remove himself from the living room so he won’t get caught with a hard-on. He doesn’t miss a beat. Quickly, he turns the TV off and runs to the bathroom. 
That’s how he ended up here, head pressed against the cold shower tiles, thinking about the way you said daddy over and over again. He is trying really hard not to give in, but his cock is aching with need. A part of him thinks he should just give in. It’s not such a big deal. Everyone masturbates. You just did. Three fucking times! That thought makes him groan. If you can come three times just by masturbating,how many times could he make you come? 
So it’s not even a conscious decision when he starts to stroke himself when he starts thinking about making you come. He can’t stop himself from imagining how you would look under him or on top of him. It doesn’t matter which position. He just wants to feel you. Your moans are echoing in his head while he caresses the top of cock. Just one stroke and it makes him tremble. He can’t remember the last time he felt this turned on. He can’t remember the last time his whole body heated up like this, just at the thought of someone. But you aren’t just anybody. You are you.
Maybe it’s because it has been ages since he had sex. Perhaps it’s because of his growing crush on you. He tried to control those feelings, thinking he was too old for you. He thought you would never look in his direction. Why would you? You are intelligent, beautiful and so cute. Like all these qualities aren’t enough, you are always so thoughtful. You always ask if he wants your leftovers, or if he needs help with anything. He knows he wakes you up at night sometimes. His nightmares are loud, but you never complained. Not once. You always let him watch the news even though you would rather watch something else. You even lent some books to him. They were in such good condition he couldn't believe his eyes. It was like reading a brand-new book. So yeah, he really tried to act like it was nothing but a silly crush, but after hearing the way you moan daddy he can’t stop himself anymore. It was as if you awakened something inside him.
He doesn’t know what to do. Should he take his time or just get over with it? He keeps his fingers loose, stroking himself up and down slowly while his head still rests on the tiles. Even with minimal effort, it feels so good. He gently cups his balls, massaging them and imagining you are the one doing it. You are the one touching the most intimate parts of his body. You are the one ready to satisfy his growing need.
“Oh fuck.” A moan escapes his lips. The shower is running and you don’t have a super hearing like him, so he knows he’s safe. Still, it feels like it’s something he shouldn’t be doing. He shouldn’t be touching himself. He shouldn’t be moaning like this, yet you are so beautiful and needy… He already wanted you before hearing how you sound in bed, but now he wants you even more. He wants to be the one to bring you pleasure. He wants to be the one that satisfies all your needs so much that you would never need to touch yourself. Unless it’s to tease him.
He’s feeling guilty. So fucking guilty, but there’s no way he could stop now. Imagining you does something to him. There’s this primal need in his abdomen, building up.
His fingers tighten around his cock, moving faster than before, and he presses his lips together, trying not to make a sound. He keeps rubbing on that one sensitive part of his cock and finally, he starts coming with a choke. He keeps stroking himself, thinking it will be over soon, but it doesn’t end. There’s so much come that it surprises him. His hands continue pumping and his come paints the bathroom tiles immediately. He takes a deep breath when he’s done, trying to collect himself.
It feels like his head is spinning. He had been masturbating for quite some time, but he doesn’t remember the last time it felt this good. He opens his eyes, trying to ground himself, and all that shame he feels comes rushing in while looking at the mess he made. He groans loudly and then reaches for the showerhead. It doesn’t take long for him to clean the shower and then himself with the thought of you is still on the back of his mind. He is soaping himself, scrubbing, and then rinsing while trying to convince himself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just masturbation. It’s normal.
Of course, he knows how normal it is. It’s like breathing, eating, or drinking water. His body needs it so he gave in, but listening to you and touching himself while thinking about you… That’s where he crossed the line. He knows it, yet he can’t bring himself to wish he never heard you. He might be a creep or a pervert, it doesn’t matter. Your voice, the way you sound while coming, and the way you touch yourself are stacked in his memory forever. It’s something no one can take away from him.
Sighing, he steps out of the shower. Drying himself doesn’t take too long. When he steps into the living room, all that welcomes him is silence. You are still in your bedroom, God knows doing what. The TV is off, and nothing seems to have moved since he ran to the bathroom. So he’s safe. You haven’t heard or suspected anything.
Quietly, he goes back to his room, finds something to put on and just looks in the mirror. Is he really too old for you or is that all in his mind? He doesn’t look older than 35, but that doesn’t change when he was born.
What if you are into that, though? What if you really like older guys? That would change everything, wouldn’t it? You would like that he’s older than you. Maybe you would even call him daddy, just like you did in your fantasy. That thought makes the blood rush back to his cock, making him feel the arousal running through his veins once again. Like he didn’t masturbate in the shower a couple of minutes ago. 
He knows his anatomy by now. He knows he’s able to get hard again pretty quickly thanks to the super soldier serum, but he hasn’t been this horny for a long time. Especially not because of the thought of someone, but the thought of you calling him daddy… 
Jesus… It makes him so hard!
Sighing, he drops his whole weight on the bed and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to touch himself again. It’s for the best if he stops thinking about you and focuses on something else, isn’t it? He tries to think of something, anything that could take his mind off of you, but nothing, absolutely nothing is more interesting. Nothing he tries to focus on lasts. His mind goes running back to you, imagining how you would look the moment he would push himself inside you. How your mouth would open, how you would throw your head back, and how wonderful it would feel.
That thought does it. It breaks his resistance. All the effort he put into not touching himself again goes out of the window, especially once he imagines you saying “Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder.” His hand goes under his boxers, slowly toying with his cock. It feels like he didn’t touch himself today, and the need is even stronger now. After a couple of strokes, he realizes he can’t move his hand properly like this, so he pushes down his shorts and boxers at the same, creating some space for movement. 
He looks down at his cock, already oozing with precum. His flesh hand moves on top of the head and smears it all the way down, making it easier for him to play with himself. He sets a steady rhythm, testing what feels right, but his precum isn’t enough to make it enjoyable. That’s when he reaches for his nightstand and takes out the bottle of lube. His metal hand works fast, opening the bottle and putting a generous amount on hisnhand, before he puts it back and starts to touch himself. 
Now it feels much better. His hand works seamlessly from the top to the bottom, repeating the same movement a couple of times. He tries to get lost in his fantasies but something feels off. He isn’t sure what it is because what he’s doing is enjoyable. Something is not enough. Maybe he should work faster. So that’s what he tries. His hand starts to move faster on his cock, but that’s not helping. 
He’s pretty sure this is what his body wants especially because he’s still rock hard. Should he be more gentle and take his sweet time? That doesn’t seem to work, either. Does he need a tighter grip? Maybe, but he can’t do more with his flesh hand. He glances at his metal hand for the first time since he started. He never used it to pleasure himself before. The flesh looked and seemed more appealing than metal, yet right now it’s not enough.
There’s a first time for everything.
He reaches for the lube once again. This time he uses his flesh hand and pours some on his metal one as he tries to convince himself that this is not a bad idea.
He goes right back into touching himself, just with his metal hand this time. It feels different, really different, and surprisingly okay. It doesn’t feel as warm. The texture is completely different yet it somehow works. His fingers start to work faster, his thumb brushing over the head and, thanks to the lube, it starts to feel much better than he ever expected. His reluctance slowly fades away and he decides to test how fast he can move his metal hand and how much his cock can actually take it. As he paces up, pleasure starts to build so unexpectedly. He takes a deep breath but keeps moving his hand. His head is now thrown back while with the flesh hand, he cups his balls, gently massaging them.
“Oh god…”
He doesn’t realize that he's just said that out loud. He just keeps working on himself, letting his whole body relax under that pleasure. He really didn’t intend to focus on you this time, but here you are again, in his mind. The image of you on top of him… You with all your charm and cuteness, touching him, making him feel this good while he takes your nipples into his mouth and sucks them until you can’t take it anymore. It drives you crazy, so you beg him to fuck you. Just like you begged while touching yourself.
“Please, please, please… I really need it, please…”
He can hear it so clearly like you are here and really begging him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that really happen.
“Anything you want, doll.”
His fingers move like they have a mind of their own. He knows he should slow down a little, make this one last a bit longer because it feels amazing, but his metal hand isn’t listening to him.
“Oh fuck, fuck.” 
He knows he’s about to come. He can feel it. It’s right there, just a few strokes away. He loses his damn mind imagining you under him, split open, and getting railed by him. God, that would feel so fucking good! You looking at him with those big beautiful eyes and begging him for more… Then your name slips out of his lips like it’s the most natural thing to say at that moment. 
Right when he’s about to come, a loud noise comes from the living room. Like something has just got shattered into pieces. His eyes fly open. He grabs his shorts and puts them on quickly, tucking his freaking erection away, and opens his door to see you standing there with an oversized T-shirt on. The glass you were probably holding is on the ground, but you don’t seem to care about that. You are looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.
Shit! She heard me.
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ellemj · 23 days
Text
Off-Limits: Ch. 1
Bucky Barnes x Reader: Mafia AU
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Summary: Bucky Barnes wants the one thing he can't have, and he'll go to great lengths to get what he wants. The tension between the two of you makes it impossible for him to think rationally.
Warnings: profanity, possessive!Bucky, mentions of firearms, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: I've been thinking about writing something like this for a few weeks but I'm typically not an AU kinda girl so stick with me. Bucky is intentionally out of character in this but hopefully a few of you will like him this way. Also, THANK YOU ILY for the little bullets and foliage art for my timeskips @littlemiss-yeehaw. She is an angel, an inspiration, I love her.
            Off-limits. Nothing has ever pissed James Bucky Barnes off more than the phrase off-limits. The fact that it’s you who’s been labeled off-limits only adds to the fiery rage that’s steadily growing inside of him.
            Bucky leans back in his desk chair, running his flesh hand through his hair while he goes over his options in his mind. He could just take you. He could give a few orders and have you in front of him by nightfall, though he isn’t quite sure how he feels about starting a war simply because he’s thinking with his cock rather than his head. He could have a sit-down meeting with the man he detests most in this world, the man who currently has total control over your future. He could make an offer, bargain for the right to have you to himself. No, that sounds too polite.
            The sound of a fist rapping against the heavy wooden door of his office breaks Bucky out of his thoughts.
            “You told me to come back at eight, so here I am. What did you decide?” Sam asks, shutting the door behind him after entering. He’s itching to do something, anything. His life has been hell ever since Bucky first laid eyes on you. It’s as if the entire fucking operation dropped to the bottom of the totem pole while you rose to the top. It would be great if he could bash a few heads in, fire a few rounds, and deliver you to his boss tonight so he could fuck away whatever this newfound obsession is and get back to being the cunning, ruthless mob boss he’s meant to be.
            “We’re paying my least favorite lowlife a visit.”
            Just like that, James Bucky Barnes and his entourage of over-eager gunmen are on their way to your house, to see your father.
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            As you tiptoe down the mahogany stairs of your childhood home, your bare feet just barely gracing each step, you forget for a moment that you’re not a little girl anymore. You can hear the distant sound of low voices and tense discussion coming from your father’s home office near the bottom of the staircase. When you were younger, those sounds would’ve had the hair on the back of your neck standing up and you would’ve been hightailing it right back to your bedroom. You’re not so timid anymore. The man already holds your entire life in the palm of his hand, molding and shaping it however he sees fit. What’s the point in trying to abide by his rules when it’ll never get you anything other than exactly what he wants for you? So, you continue your daring trip to the kitchen, with the hem of your oversized t-shirt skimming along the skin beneath the curve of your ass and your heart set on a late-night snack.
            Bucky sits across from your father’s desk, his jaw aching due to the number of times he’s caught himself clenching his teeth together during the past hour of deliberations. As he lifts his hand to massage the sore muscle along the side of his face, he hears the sound of a wooden floorboard creaking somewhere outside of the room that he currently sits in. He shifts his gaze around the room, noting the way his own men, your father, and your father’s men all seem oblivious to the miniscule noise that came from somewhere in the house.
            “It doesn’t matter how long we sit here and go through this. My daughter is not getting married, she isn’t on the table.” Your father’s tone, though resolved and sure, doesn’t match the look in his eye. It’s a look that lets Bucky know you’re not actually off the table, he just hasn’t made the right offer yet. The words echo in his head for a moment: on the table.
Fuck. If he sits here for another second, picturing you physically on top of a damn table, he might make an unreasonable offer just to turn that fantasy into a reality. It’s what prompts Bucky to rise to his feet suddenly, reaching into the pocket of his black suit pants to retrieve his phone and act as if he’s going to make a call, maybe a call to check on things within his business to see what else he can offer the piece of shit who sits in front of him. In reality, he’s making up an excuse to get the hell out of that stuffy office and clear his mind just enough to close the deal.
“Let me make a call.” Bucky says evenly, shooting your father a steely look. Your father leans back in his desk chair, relaxing for the first time since his rival showed up on your doorstep an hour ago. When Sam and Torres make moves to follow Bucky out of the office, Bucky holds up a hand, signaling for them to stop. “Stay, I won’t be long.”
Leaving his suit jacket draped over the back of the armchair he had been sitting in, Bucky steps out of the office and guides the door to shut as quietly as possible. It’s fucked up, what he’s doing here. He knows that good and well. Offering large sums of money, offering obscene amounts of quality product, offering a damn near eternal truce in the streets…all to have a woman he barely knows. As his eyes adjust to the darkness of his enemy’s home, he casts a glance up the staircase by the office door, wondering if you’re awake up there. Are you sitting in your posh bedroom without a single worry plaguing your pretty little mind? Are you sleeping soundly as he barters with your father for the right to have you all to himself? Or are you thinking about him too, about the handful of times you’ve run into each other over the past two months?
Shaking his head to clear his mind of all thoughts of you, Bucky takes a few steps to his left and turns the corner at the bottom of the stairs, entering the kitchen soundlessly. That’s where he finds you, hidden behind the open refrigerator door as you rummage around for a snack. He sees your bare legs first, peeking out beneath the half-door. He clenches his teeth and tightens his grip on the phone in his right hand simultaneously. It fucking hurts just to look at you.
“Your father lets you walk around like that with guests in the house?” He seethes. Startled, you shove the refrigerator door shut just before dropping the container of blueberries in your hand. As the plastic container goes crashing to the kitchen floor, blueberries scatter around your feet. James. When your eyes land on him, you can see the look of disdain all over his face. He despises you, you’re sure of it. Never one to take shit from a man, you narrow your eyes at him before crouching down and positioning yourself on your knees. Bucky watches intently as you pick up the blueberries one by one, placing them back into the plastic container.
“I don’t think my father considers you a guest.” You whisper the insult just loud enough for him to hear it, but not loud enough for your voice to carry over to your father’s office. Bucky’s squeezing his phone so tightly in his hand that he’s already thinking about having to send someone out to pick up a new one for him tomorrow, because surely, he’s shattering the screen of it. It isn’t your cute little attempt at a comeback that’s irking him. It’s the fact that you’re still on your knees, with your t-shirt riding up your thighs and your eyes lifting to meet his gaze as if you have no idea what effect you’re having on him. He’s sure you aren’t that naïve, which means you’re doing this shit on purpose.
“Get up.” He says through his teeth. You narrow your eyes at him before cocking your head to the side and picking up another fallen berry. It’s a test. He wants to see if you’ll listen to him. The way Bucky sees it, if you listen to his command and stand up, he’ll feel a bit better about going to all of this trouble to have you. It would tell him that although you’re defiant and like to talk back, you still know how to do what you’re told. But if you don’t listen? He can think of a few enjoyable ways to break you of that bad habit.
“What would my father do if he knew you were in here telling me what to do?” The question leaves your lips with the intention of being threatening, but Bucky’s hard stare and cold expression melds into a look of mild amusement. You pick up one of the last few remaining blueberries and drop it into the plastic container, keeping your gaze steady on the cold-blooded man a few feet in front of you. You watch with masked curiosity as he tucks his phone into the pocket of his suit pants and begins rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt. He notices the way your eyes fixate on his black and gold arm, the way you almost seem fascinated by it. When he uses his metal hand to roll up the sleeve on his right arm, your focus shifts to the tattoos covering the majority of his flesh forearm. It isn’t your eyes that tell Bucky you like what you see. It’s the way you subtly clench your thighs together as you drop another berry into the container. You don’t shy away, you don’t move even an inch as he begins walking toward you. Even when he comes to a stop in front of you, close enough that the toes of his dress shoes are nearly touching your knees, you stay where you are. You look up at him through your lashes without tilting your head upward, refusing to move any more than just your eyes for a man that you know would take a mile if you gave him an inch.
“What would your father do if he knew you were on your knees in front of me?” He lifts his flesh hand toward your face, expecting you to flinch away or refuse his touch, but you don’t even blink as he lets his fingertips trace the curve of your jaw. He drags his fingers downward, until he’s in the right spot to curl them beneath your chin and force you to tilt your head up for him. Again, you don’t resist him. “Get out of here before someone else sees you like this.”
It isn’t at all what Bucky wanted to say to you, not even close. But it was what needed to be said. If anyone else had walked out of your father’s office and stolen the privilege of seeing you looking so pretty on your knees like that, he would’ve shot them dead right there in the kitchen. Whether it was one of your father’s men or his own, he wouldn’t have given a shit. So, Bucky lets his hand fall away from your chin, but he doesn’t step away. You reach down for the container of blueberries and grasp it in your right hand as you move to stand, keeping your eyes locked on Bucky’s the entire time. You want to shove him, to tell him he has no right to tell you what to do, especially not in your father’s home. At the same time, you wouldn’t be opposed to tracing the tattoos on his flesh forearm with your lips. What is it about this man that makes your rational mind war with the rest of your body?
            When you step around Bucky a second later, setting the container of blueberries on the island in the center of the kitchen before heading toward the stairs, he has to fight the urge to reach out and grab you. Not now, not yet. You’re not his yet. When you round the corner of the kitchen and begin tiptoeing up to your room, Bucky makes his way to the bottom of the stairs and watches you silently as you take each step. You don’t look back as you make it to the landing and turn right, disappearing behind a wall. When he hears the faint sound of your bedroom door closing, he reaches into the back pocket of his suit pants and retrieves a small silver cylinder. It sits heavy in his hand as he pulls his gun from the back waistband of his pants. As Bucky screws the silencer onto the barrel of his gun, a distant voice in the back of his mind is screaming at him to be rational about this. Don’t do it. Don’t go to such insane lengths for a woman you don’t even know. Don’t spill blood on these nice mahogany floors.
            When he enters the office a few seconds later, he fires two shots. The first into the shoulder of your father’s righthand man, and the second into the thigh of the other hired gun. His face is emotionless as he steps over their bloody, writhing bodies and presses the cool metal of the silencer against your father’s temple. Bucky only has to speak one sentence to let the man know that he isn’t to be fucked with.
            “We make a deal tonight, or I make your daughter an orphan.”
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nickfowlerrr · 5 months
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everybody talks
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pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, a bit of angst. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. nipple play. if i’m missing something that needs to be tagged, pls lmk!
words: almost 7.7k
notes: happy halloween 👻 so i had an idea for reclusive neighbor!bucky meeting reader when she stops by his house with a group of kids for trick or treating, and this is very much not that but i think it still works lol. also, i wrote this in a day? i don’t think i’ve ever written more than like 4k in a day before so, yay me!
i wanted to participate in @witchywithwhiskey’s horror movie hoe-a-thon but i decided so last minute and then thought the deadline was the 31st, but i absolutely read the guidelines wrong bc it was actually yesterday and i missed it lol. i’m linking her event still though bc i did use a quote prompt! 🖤
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The loud shaking of the wobbly cart you grabbed in your hurry precedes you as you make your way through the ridiculously crowded grocery store. Normally you would have been mortified - probably would have left the cart and ventured off to grab what you needed sans basket - but you don’t have the time to be concerned about the looks you’re getting as you walk fast down the aisles. 
When your sister asked you for help organizing a family halloween party, you didn’t realize she meant an actual little community family friendly party for the street she lived on.
You had gotten two frozen pizzas, a bag of candy, a case of soda, and some random bags of chips you were sure your nieces would love, just last night. That would have certainly been enough for you, your nieces, and both your sisters, but unfortunately, that wasn’t where the guest list ended. 
The look on her face when you showed up to her house with just those few things would have been funny if she wasn’t already on the brink of a breakdown.
Her husband was out of town for work and she was doing all the halloween prep for Sid herself, thus why she enlisted your help with the party and your younger sister’s help for the trick or treating plans.
Before she could snap and completely lose her cool on you, you were already rushing to the front door, keys still in hand, promising you’d be back within the hour and she had nothing to worry about.
That’s how you found yourself among the crowd of the woefully unprepared this afternoon. 
You loaded the cart with six more frozen pizzas, three family servings of the deli’s hot and ready fried chicken, two packs of halloween cupcakes, two more cases of soda, an extra case of water, and three boxes of capri suns before you started filling the cart with the halloween party snacks you found in the holiday section. 
You were getting a workout as you pushed the basket, less shaky now thanks to the added weight, heading to the candy section to grab a few bags of whatever they had left.
You were distracted by the end cap display as you turned down the aisle and didn’t see the man standing right in front of you, accidentally running into him. Though, running into him sounds like an exaggeration. With how heavy your basket was, and how sturdy the man before you was, it was more like a bump - a love tap. He didn’t even really react to it aside from looking over briefly to you and your basket.
Even still, you apologized profusely, rambling an apology about not looking where you were going before you finally got an actual look at your victim. 
Your words stopped almost abruptly when your eyes met with crystal blues. His stare was icy, but not cold, moreso piercing.
He blinked and broke your trance, offering you a shy smile before he looked away.
“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, eyes fixed back on the shelves of candy.
He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a black crewneck sweatshirt, his hair was dark and down to just above his broad shoulders, and the stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him well. You didn’t realize you were staring again until he looked back up at you.
You forced yourself to smile then, ignoring the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and rising to your cheeks.
“Sorry,” you offered with a nervous laugh before you forced the cart behind where he stood to go onward. 
You could have sworn you saw a blush rising to his cheeks as he smiled to himself, avoiding your gaze, but you weren’t entirely sure. 
And you definitely didn’t have the time to ponder on it.
Instead, you began your own search of the shelves to find not only your nieces’ favorites, but your sisters’, too. 
They were both working hard to make their kids’ halloween a good one, they deserved a little treat themselves when all the work was done. You, on the other hand, still single and child free, were planning on treating yourself all night. You were there to help, sure, but most of the work wouldn’t be done by you. You were looking forward to seeing them off to trick or treat and plopping down on your sister’s couch to watch movies for the rest of the night - handing out candy, of course, should any kids come by.
Once the party was set up and over, you’d be free for the night and you couldn’t wait.
You were lucky to find most of what you were looking for, but couldn’t seem to find the last kind of chocolates you wanted to get. 
As your eyes scoured the shelves, you found yourself looking back over to where the handsome stranger still stood. His brows were furrowed as he held up two boxes of full size candy bars, seeming to be debating between the two.
The look of concentration on his face was endearing, you could almost chuckle at how serious in thought he seemed to be over candy.
You smiled to yourself, returning to your search. As your eyes left the man, traveling instead to the rows of candy in front of him, that was when you saw the bag you needed. In the section right where he was standing, because of course they’d be there. 
He huffed in exasperation before you watched him drop both boxes of candy into his cart. He turned to head down the aisle in your direction and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you still standing there.
“Oh, sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I.”
“No, you’re fine!” You assured him as you left your basket, walking closer to him. “I just needed to grab this,” you said, looking up with the bag in hand. He hadn’t moved from where he stood as you approached, so you were inadvertently in his personal space - but he didn’t make any attempt to move from you. In fact, he looked almost frozen. 
His bright eyes were on you, one hand on his cart, the other clenched by his side. He seemed to go a bit ridge at your proximity, like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he relaxed after a second after seeing your soft smile, blinking at you as his cheeks burned. 
You quickly backed away, hoping to not make him more uncomfortable and to not embarrass yourself further.
You grabbed onto your cart and looked his way once more, meeting his eye again as his sights were already on you. 
You smiled shyly, “Sorry, again, for hitting you,” you offered, “happy halloween.”
He didn’t respond verbally, but he did give you a small nod of acknowledgement.
Your smile grew tighter before you turned and made for the check out, sighing as you rolled your eyes at yourself, mentally chastising yourself for being such an awkward inducing mess. 
The lines were long and as you waited, you had to field a call from your sister, promising her you were checking out and would be back at her house soon.
You finally got through the line and were on your way out the sliding door when your cart almost crashed into another. You gasped as you pulled at your cart to stop, the heavy weight carrying it forward, its momentum causing it to almost ram right into the cart beside it.
The doors were only big enough for one cart to go through at a time, so you looked up to offer whoever it was you almost crashed into the lead.
It was your turn for your eyes to widen as you once again were met with those piercing blues.
“I am so sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear,” you laughed nervously, backing up a bit so he’d have room to go through the doors. “Go for it,” you said.
He shook his head, “Please,” he gestured for you to go in front, “ladies first.”
Had you not been in a hurry, you would’ve argued that he should go ahead, but seeing as your phone was lighting up with messages from your erratic sister, you smiled and pushed on forward. “Thank you,” you breathed.
You were trying not to pay attention as he followed behind you, but when you got to your car, halting your basket at your trunk, you couldn’t help but notice as he stopped next to you.
You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. He smiled this time, popping his trunk, “What are the odds?”
You tittered, not knowing how to respond. You couldn’t help your smile though as you turned back to your trunk and started putting the bags in.
He himself didn’t have much in the way of bags, and was finished putting his stuff away and taking his cart back by the time you were halfway done putting your stuff in your car.
You saw as he approached his door from your peripheral, and looked up and over in his direction as he abruptly stopped just before he was about to pull open his door.
For a second, he looked like he was about to turn around but then thought better of it, reaching for the door handle again before pulling away once more. 
He squeezed his car keys in his hand before he turned back around, completely this time. You blinked at him, in a bit of a stupor as he came up to you. You waited for him to speak as he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it, taking a breath, then anxiously licking his lips.
“I’m Bucky,” he introduced himself a bit stiffly before his lip quirked up in a nervous half smile. Your brows raised of their own volition before you gave him your name in turn.
He seemed to be relieved by your reply, as if he was worried you would have ignored him, before he took another step closer to your car. “Can I give you a hand?”
“Oh, uhm, sure. That’d be great, thanks.”
“Big plans for the night?” he asked as he slid the packs of soda and the water into the car.
“My sister is hosting a little halloween party for the families on her street before they head out trick or treating tonight, I’m helping her out with setup and food. But after that,” you sighed, putting a few more bags in, “I’m planning on just watching movies between trick or treaters. Nothing crazy. You?” you asked, looking over to him.
“I’m planning pretty much the same. I don’t know how many trick or treaters to expect, I’m new to the neighborhood and… maybe haven’t been the friendliest neighbor,” he cringed to himself as he grabbed the boxes of juice. “But I got the full size candy bars, so…”
“Sprung for the full size, huh? I’m sure those kids’ll love it. You’ll be the talk of the block,” you joked.
His chuckle had you smiling so hard you had to bite your lip to keep from looking like an idiot.
Bucky took the last of the bags from you and set them carefully down before he closed the trunk for you. You were hanging onto the cart, waiting to say bye before you walked it to its home, as he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets before he spoke. He had that anxious look on his face again, his eyes down at the ground while he licked his lips mindlessly before he met your eye.
“I, uhm,” he seemed to register where his hands were then and took them out of his pockets, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but, did you maybe, want to exchange numbers?” he asked, bright blue eyes bearing into yours.
Your lips parted unbidden, eyebrows raising in surprise, or more like shock, as your eyes widened.
“You- you want my number?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t give him a chance to answer though before you continued, “Uhm, yeah,” you nodded, “sure.”
The delicate smile on your lips grew as you reached for your phone.
You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you were finally headed back to your sister’s place.
You were smiling like a fool as you drove, a sense of giddy taking over you. This kind of stuff never happened to you. You were still in a bit of disbelief as you pulled into your sister’s driveway, calling her to help you unload but deciding against telling her about your little grocery store meet cute. At least until the party was underway and her stress levels came down.
Grumpy. 
That’s the word you would use to describe your current state.
This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You should be lounging on a couch watching scary movies with a bowl full of candy right now, not clopping down the street in your wedges - a last minute costume thrown together as your niece held your hand and pulled you along with her while your sisters and baby niece strolled behind.
Sidney had thrown a fit when she learned you wouldn’t be coming along for trick or treating and only calmed down when you finally relented and agreed. But of course, you couldn’t just go out in what you were already wearing, no, that would be too easy. You absolutely needed a costume. 
At your sisters’ and niece’s goading, you were forced to put something together. 
You were already in all black, so you snagged the leftover cat ear headband your sister had and made your already done eye look a little more exaggerated. You all left soon after, your niece’s jubilance as she skipped out of the house easing your annoyance at the change of plans. As you started down the driveway, you were cursing yourself for not having brought your sneakers, and your sisters for both having smaller feet than you.
You walked up to house after house with your niece, taking turns switching who was going up to the door every two or three houses. In between houses, you finally told your sisters about the guy you met at the store earlier, how attractive he was, how he helped you load your car, and how he asked for your number before you went your separate ways.
It was nice to be able to talk with them about it, it had been a long time since it had been just the three of you together - no obnoxious boyfriends or overly talkative husbands to interrupt your conversations. You had to say, you were starting to feel a bit more grateful for your niece’s insistence on you joining them.
As you talked to your little sister while she held her daughter, you both watched as your niece tugged on her mom’s hand, refusing to go up the pathway of the house you were now at. As you looked around, you realized everyone else seemed to be avoiding the house, too. You weren’t sure why, though. The porch light was on and there was a cute, though solitary, ghost decoration that would greet you as you walked up the path to the house. 
“What is up with that?” you asked aloud.
As your older sister walked back over, she answered your question. “She doesn’t wanna go, she says it’s haunted.”
You fixed your niece with a look, “What do you mean haunted? Who told you that?”
“Evan and Fifi. They said the metal man lives here and he kills anyone who tries to come in.”
“The metal man, huh? Well,” you said, making a point of looking all around the front of the house, “it looks to me like whoever lives here is ready to pass out candy to anyone brave enough to knock. The lights are on, and did you see the ghost up front? They’re probably just as excited about Halloween as you are.”
“No.” she responded flatly.
“No?” you scoffed. “Ohhh, okay,” you exaggerated, “I get it, you’re too scared to go. That’s all you had to say, Sid, no shame.”
“I’m not scared,” she argued, her face scrunched in annoyance at your insult.
“Really? If you’re not scared then why won’t you go knock on the door?”
She floundered for a second before she narrowed her gaze at you. You wanted to laugh at the low growl that radiated from her but held it together. 
“We’ll all go,” she finally decided, looking all three of you in the eyes to make sure you were all ready to accompany her.
It had been two hours since the trick or treaters had started their nights. 
Bucky could hear the laughter and screams of playful fright as family after family and group after group of friends passed by his house. 
The bowl of king size candy bars sat on his coffee table untouched as It played on his screen. 
Every now and again he’d get up and look out the kitchen window, hoping to see a dead street to make himself feel better about the lack of trick or treaters, but only found the streets full of people.
The more time that passed without a single knock or ringing of his bell, the worse he felt. 
He could lie and say he didn’t know why he was taking this so hard, he wasn’t one to complain about his solitude, but truthfully, he knew why.
He had heard the neighbor kids talking about him the other week, telling tales of horror about the metal man who lived next door. If seeing his arm was all it took to spur their tales and ignite their fear of him, God, he didn’t even want to know what would come if they found out even a little bit of his past. 
And if it wasn’t the kids starting their own urban legend at his expense, it was the adults who would gossip about him at their backyard barbecues. The mysterious man who lived alone and kept to himself was an easy target for lowly neighborhood gossip, and the few people who had pieced together who he was seemed to be tight lipped about it. Anytime they saw him in public, their eyes would bug and they would quickly avert their gaze, like they were scared what would happen if he knew they knew. It’s not like his identity was a secret, but he wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation with them to let them know that. Especially not when they looked at him like that. Like he was some kind of monster.
Even still, he didn’t want to be the social pariah on the block. He hated to think that anyone was scared or weary of him, though he knew most of them were.
He sighed heavily as he checked the time once again. 
So much for that ghost helping to dispel his bad reputation. He’d be requesting the money he spent on it from Sam later, it was his idea for him to get halloween decorations in the first place. He should have known it wouldn’t have helped.
As his phone unlocked with his FaceID, he was tempted to send a message to the woman he’d met earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he hadn’t felt so disarmed by someone in a very long time. And the fact that she was gorgeous, and didn’t seem the least bit frightened by him, was a nice feeling, too. 
But she was probably watching movies and relaxing by now, he didn’t want to be a disturbance. Tomorrow, though. He’d definitely be messaging her tomorrow.
Another sigh left him as he locked his phone again, tossing it on the coffee table before making his decision.
Bucky paused the movie before he stood, bowl in hand, prepared to take it to the kitchen and shut his porch light off on his way upstairs. It was only gonna get later and he had to accept that no one was going to trick or treat at his house this year.
But just as he was setting the bowl down on the table, he froze.
Was someone actually coming up the porch?
He swore he was just hearing things…but then came a knock.
“You can’t just stand there, Sid, you have to knock or ring the bell, pick one.”
“No.”
“Ugh,” you exaggerated with an eye roll, turning to look at your older sister, “you live with this everyday?”
“Everyday,” she replied.
“Sid, if you don’t knock, you don’t get candy,” you told her.
“If I don’t knock, I don’t get murdered.”
“Alright, fine. I’ll do it myself,” you shrugged, adjusting the cat ears on your head.
You raised your arm to knock on the door, but Sid stopped you, pulling it back down.
“I don’t want you to get murdered, either!”
“Sidney,” you laughed, kneeling to get on her level, “I promise you, no one is going to get murdered. This house isn’t haunted and a murderer doesn’t live here.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” your little sister chimed in, earning a glare from you before you couldn’t help your laugh, shaking your head before turning back to your niece.
“I just met Evan and Fifi at the party, and I know for a fact they were just trying to scare all of you guys. I doubt they’ve ever met whoever it is that lives here. Now, do you trust me?”
Her reluctant nod was your answer.
“Okay. Then I’m gonna knock on the door, and we’re gonna get some candy. Cool?”
“Cool.”
“Cool,” you nodded with a smile before standing back up.
Sid inched back to stand in front of her mom, pulling her arm to hide herself behind as you once again went to knock on the door, this time following through.
You knocked and heard footsteps from within, smiling as you waited for the homeowner to open the door.
Once it opened, though, you found yourself completely taken aback. 
Your breath caught in your throat as a newly familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes met yours.
Bucky stood at the open door, bowl of full size candy bars in hand. He looked just as surprised to see you there as you were him. 
He tilted his head at you, a lopsided grin spreading on his face.
“Trick or treat!” Sidney yelled, seeing the big bars and coming to stand in front of you.
Bucky looked down, smiling as he showed her the bowl, “Happy Halloween,” he said, allowing her to pick which one she wanted.
“I know how this looks, but I swear I’m not stalking you,” you promised.
“I don’t know, it seems like a lotta coincidences for just one day,” he smirked, cooly leaning against his door frame. “Nice costume,” he complimented.
“Ha, thanks,” you smiled, touching the cat ears once again. “Nice ghost,” you nodded toward the lonely decoration, “Really livens up the place,” you teased. 
“That was the intention,” he laughed, a little too glumly for your liking. “You guys are actually the first trick or treaters I’ve had all night, so I guess it didn’t really do its job.”
“Sorry, you guys know each other?” your sister asked.
“Yeah, uh,” you turned briefly, “this is Bucky,” you said.
“Bucky from the grocery store, Bucky?” your little sister asked.
You gave her a look you hoped Bucky didn’t see before answering, “Yes. That Bucky.”
Your sisters introduced themselves to him and as he switched the candy bowl from his right hand to his left, extending his palm to shake their hands, you noticed a glimmer coming from  his left side.
You moved over a bit to allow them room to shake hands and as you looked closer, you realized that, peculiarly enough, his left hand wasn’t made of flesh. 
You scoffed a laugh to yourself at his “metal man” moniker. That made some sense now… In fact, a few things were clicking into place. Bucky, you thought…Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes. You wondered how you hadn’t noticed earlier, not that it mattered, but you were staring, like kind of a lot, at him when you met at the store, and even when he was helping load your groceries. You really must have been distracted by just how gorgeous his face is.
Now that you were really looking at him again, you noticed just how built he was. Strong arms, solid chest, nearly six foot tall if you had to guess. 
Your sister’s laugh brought you back to reality as you followed her gaze to Sid who was now taking a bunch of bars from Bucky’s bowl as he held it out for her again.
“I doubt anyone is coming my way again, so please, take what you want,” he offered to all of you.
“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you smiled as your sisters each took a bar of their own. “We’ll uh, let you get back to your movie,” you said, remembering his plans for tonight.
“The movie, yeah. I think I might have to start it over, actually. I went on my phone for a minute and looked up to see a blood covered bathroom but I have no idea how they got there,” he huffed a laugh at himself.
“Oh, what are you watching?” your little sister asked.
“It,”
“It? No way, that’s so funny. That’s the movie you were gonna watch before we left tonight, isn’t it?” your older sister asked knowingly, a smirk no one but you and your younger sister would ever catch flashing for a microsecond on her lips as she looked at you pointedly.
“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “it is,” you said, trying not to let the awkwardness that was eating at you consume you entirely.
“You should stay and watch it,” your little sister suggested, to your complete and utter mortification. Your eyes shot over to her, and you swear, if looks could kill. 
“I’m not just going to invite myself-”
“Come on, like he minds,” she turned to look at Bucky then, her hands still on her stroller holding her baby, “you don’t mind, do you?”
You peek over at Bucky, unsure of how you would even react if you were in his position. He met your eye and his lips quirked in a soft smile. “Not at all. If you wanted to, that is,” he added, offering you an out.
You looked at him a moment before looking over to your smugly smiling sisters and your niece as she tore into one of her candy bars, standing safely between the two of them. You inhaled sharply before looking back to a waiting Bucky. 
You nodded.
“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds…fun.”
“Great, well we were heading back anyway. So, see you later?” you sister bid. 
“Or not,” your little sister added teasingly before she shot her gaze over to Bucky once more. “But we do have her location, just so you know,” she added seriously, a hint of a warning in her words.
“Ooo-kay,” you said, breaking the forthcoming tension, “I will text you guys when I’m on my way back,” you told them, urging them to get going.
“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I trust my sister will get home safe,” your sister said directly.
“I’ll make sure of it,” he responded gallantly while your face felt as if it was literally on fire.
What was this, it was like your parents were dropping you off for your first date in high school. But somehow worse.
She nodded, “And thank you for the candy. Sidney,” she called, getting her daughter’s attention, “what do we say?”
“Thank you! Happy Halloween!”
“You’re very welcome,” Bucky smiled. “Happy Halloween.”
It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting on Bucky’s couch, a glass of water you had desperately needed sitting before you on the coffee table and Bucky sitting to the left of you, but keeping a respectable distance.
“I’m really sorry about my sisters, by the way. They can be a lot,” you huffed a laugh.
“Don’t be,” he brushed off, “It’s nice to see, honestly.”
You looked over at him, he seemed a bit forlorn before he came back to himself. 
“You know, my niece was almost too scared to come to your door. She said this house is haunted, that ‘the metal man’ lives here and kills anyone who tries to enter.”
“Ah, I see word travels fast when it comes to children.”
“Yeah, you’re kind of like their own urban legend.”
Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed, lifting a leg up to cross under your thigh as you turned to face him on the couch.
“What?” you asked, “Don’t you want to be an urban legend?”
“Not really,” he laughed with a shake of his head, turning to face you better as well. “Especially not when it leaves me with bowls full of king sized candy bars no one seems to want.”
There’s a pause before he continues,
“Honestly… I don’t like knowing people are scared of me. I mean I’ve known, for a long time, that they are, it’s just.. Different when you can see that fear on their faces, in person.”
You didn’t even realize you were moving as you scooted in closer to him while he spoke.
“I thought the city was bad, but ever since I moved out here, it’s all so much more intimate. The stares are a lot more pointed.” He laughed humorlessly at himself, “I heard a couple kids talking about my arm a few weeks ago and tried to tell myself I didn’t care, but I’ve been wearing nothing but long sleeves every time I go outside now. 
“I’m not ashamed of it,” he said quickly to clarify, “I just, I don’t want them to have to be scared of me.”
“They shouldn’t be scared of you just because you have a prosthetic arm,” you argued, knowing they surely knew nothing else of who he was, “and their parents should probably be leading by better examples.”
“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “what can you do?” He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming at your defense of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up-”
“No, I’m sorry, that’s on me. I am incredibly skilled at killing conversations before they even begin.”
“I don’t know about that. You don’t know me well yet, so you don’t know how big of a deal this is, but, I like talking to you,” he smiled. 
You had to look away from his gaze, breathing a laugh as you did. 
The movie was playing on screen, but neither of you were paying any attention to it as you continued talking.
Each time Bucky laughed at your lame jokes, you swore you felt like you were flying. You talked about everything and nothing. You got to know each other better, asking questions about life and preferences and favorites and what-ifs. The conversation flowed so easily, you never even really had to think about what to say next. That definitely wasn’t usual for you, and you liked it. You liked him.
Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned flirty, and again, it was completely effortless. 
Your knees were pressing against one another as you sat across from each other, almost side by side on the couch.
You laughed in unison at a cheesy line Bucky tried on you before a jump scare on the screen had you quite literally jumping. Without thought, you leaned into Bucky, and he had no qualms about it as you hid your face in his shoulder.
He laughed lightly, his arm coming around you and gently rubbing your back before you forced yourself to pull away. His warmth was so nice and welcoming, but if you didn’t back up, you would’ve tried to nuzzle right into his side - you couldn’t risk the embarrassment.
As you turned back to sit next to him though, he kept his arm around you and tugged you in a bit closer. 
You briefly wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, because you definitely could. You thought it might beat out of your chest at any moment as his warm cologne invaded your senses.
“Sorry, I guess I just assumed you liked scary movies,” he laughed.
“Ya know what’s funny is I actually hate scary movies,” you told him, “the It movies are some of the very few that don’t scare me.”
“Oh, that was you not being scared?” he smirked with a raised brow.
“That was- it just, it caught me off guard,” you defended with a smile, absentmindedly leaning more into his hold.
You had never gotten so close to someone in such a short amount of time, emotionally or physically. 
It was foreign, but you enjoyed it. It may have been sudden, but it didn’t feel rushed. 
“You get scared easily?” he asked.
“I’m the biggest scaredy cat I know,” you admitted. “I’m not hard to get a jump out of, I get scared of literally everything,” you laughed at yourself.
You turned to look at him when he didn’t say anything and felt your breath catch in your throat for the second time that night. He was so close to you now, and his eyes were piercing as he took you in, lingering on your lips and sending a chill through you.
The energy between you seemed to shift from something light and playful to something more charged, deliberate.
Your eyes drifted to his lips despite yourself, too.
He leaned in just a touch closer to you and your lips were mere inches away as he spoke,
“You’re not scared of me,” he said, though you weren’t sure if it was a question or not. Still, you responded as if it were.
Leaning in, brushing your lips against his, you breathed, “No.”
His hand was on your head then, keeping you close to him as he pressed his lips against yours, it was fervent, yet delicate, as your lips moved against one another. 
You moved a hand to hold onto his left shoulder and he tugged your body to move you completely over his lap while he continued to lead the kiss.
His metal hand found its way to your plush waist as he held you, squeezing you lightly and inadvertently causing you to sink down lower into his lap while your upper body melted into him.
His hand slid from your waist to your ass, grabbing you through your leggings, kneading your ample flesh in his large palm.
You moaned into his mouth and that seemed to spur him on because in the blink of an eye you found yourself being flipped onto your back as he pinned you beneath his large body.
When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt as his wandered your curves. 
“Do you have a bed?” you breathed, pulling him back down to be closer to you, wanting desperately to have his lips on yours once more. He nodded.
“Glad you asked,” he returned, voice low and husky.
You yelped as Bucky lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you with ease while you clung to him like your life depended on it. If he dropped you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover from the embarrassment. But as he began up the steps and his hold didn’t falter for a single second, you realized maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.. He held you like you weighed nothing and honestly, it sent a new wave of arousal through you as he reached the door of his bedroom.
He tossed you down on his bed carefully, but stopped you before you could begin tugging your leggings down your thick thighs. 
You looked at him, confused and with a touch of worry you were about to be rejected.
“I’m sorry,” he began, “I should’ve said this before I brought you up here,”
That did nothing to ease your worry…
“I really like you. And I think there could be something real here between us, I don’t want to ruin that. So if you were only here for one night,-”
“I really like you, too,” you cut him off, eyes gleaming into his, “And I think you’re right, I don’t wanna ruin it either. I wasn’t planning for this to be a one night stand, but if you want to take things slower, I don’t have a problem with that.”
“No, I’m good with where we were heading, I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want this to be just tonight.”
You nodded, a little breathless as you smiled up at him. 
“Same page, then.”
“Good,” he grinned before pushing you to lie back on his bed as he descended upon you. 
His lips were on your neck and as he sucked on your sweet spot, you couldn’t contain the soft moan that passed your lips. 
His hands found the waistband of your bottoms and he pulled them down as much as he could manage before you lifted your hips and wiggled a bit to assist him in getting them off of you. 
You pulled impatiently at the buckle of his jeans, earning a chuckle from him before he got to work taking them off. 
While he got rid of his jeans, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, catching on the cat ears you had forgotten you were wearing. You threw them all to the side, unclasping your bra as Bucky shrugged his sweatshirt off over his head in turn.
He was back on top of you in an instant, pulling your bra off of you and tossing it to land with the rest of your discarded clothes off the side of the bed.
His large hands immediately went to your breasts, admiring the soft, heavy feel of them in his hands while he palmed them, squeezing slightly as he felt you.
You mewled under his attention, eyes closed in delight as his touch only added fuel to the fire burning in your core. 
When he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking on your tit, your hand found his hair as you gasped at the sensation, holding him to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your breasts.
You could feel the wetness growing between your legs as he continued to have his fun, unconsciously rutting his thick cock against you when you’d moan for him.
As he traveled down your body, his hands following your curves and his lips kissing every inch of you that he could, he paid special attention to your tummy before he traveled even lower. 
You were a writhing mess as you felt his warm breath on your folds. When your hips bucked up into his face and you felt his lips brushing your cunt, you whined obscenely at the feeling. Bucky laughed tauntingly, holding your hips back down as he poked his tongue out past his plump lips, lightly licking your folds and your sensitive clit as you gripped his hair and urged him closer, wanting, needing more.
He finally took mercy on you after a long, torturous minute, spreading you open for him before he ate you out like a man starved. 
His tongue glided all over your slick cunt, dipping in and out of your tight entrance, before coming back up to flick your clit. 
He drew figure eights over the sensitive bud and you swore you were about to come undone from that alone, but when he sunk his thick digits into your dripping pussy, curling them just right, rubbing against that special spot perfectly, you were seeing stars as your thighs threatened to clamp around his head while you shook from your orgasm. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as you came and he moaned at the feeling as he worked you through the high, more than ready to finally get his cock inside you.
“Doll, you look so gorgeous like this,” he admired as he held himself above you, “naked and sweaty beneath me. Like a fucking goddess,” he praised, grabbing his erection and positioning himself at your entrance. 
“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked, running his cockhead up and down your dripping slit. 
“Yes, Bucky, please,” you moaned pathetically, spreading your legs as wide as you could for him.
“Mm, I love the way you say my name, doll,” he groaned as he pushed just his tip inside your tight cunt, moving in and out of you as you whined for him.
“God, please, Bucky, please fuck me! I want it so bad,” you whimpered. “I wanna feel you fill me up, please.”
The growl that left his throat had your pussy fluttering, squeezing around nothing before he finally gave you what you wanted.  With one hard, deep stroke, he was fully seated inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped sharply, your hands gripping onto him wherever you could as he began to set his pace. With every thrust of his hips into you, he was hitting deeper and deeper inside your cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” you cried.
“There you go, sweetheart. Take all ‘a my cock inside this tight pussy, taking me so fuckin’ well,” his hands were tight on your hips as he fucked into you. “This what you wanted, doll?” he panted, his pace never faltering as he fucked you harder, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his balls hitting your cunt with his every thrust filled the room, mingled with your moans and whimpers and his grunts and growls. “Wanted this big dick to stretch you out, huh? Wanted to feel me fill you up with my hot cum til I’m dripping outta you.”
One of his hands left your hip and instead went to grab at your breasts again, his large hand palming your tit as he squeezed and kneaded, flicking his thumb over your nipple and only adding to the pleasure threatening to send you over the edge.
“God, yes! Please, fucking yes, Bucky, please, please, please, please” you begged pathetically, reaching a hand down to find your clit, working your bud in circles as your walls tightened around his thick cock. 
Your eyes were about to roll into the back of your head as you moaned senselessly, Bucky’s hand leaving your chest and nudging your own away from your clit. He replaced your hand and circled your clit perfectly as he continued rolling his hips into yours, his pace growing more erratic and the words leaving his beautiful lips growing filthier the closer he got to his own end. 
With one perfectly angled thrust, you were crying as your body shook at the intensity of your orgasm. Wave after wave of nerve tingling pleasure lighting you up as you rode out the high. Your toes curled, legs wrapped around him as much as they could be while he grabbed at your body, falling down closer to you as he moaned, holding your body tighter as he pumped his hips, “Fuck,” he growled as he pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could, his eyes squeezing shut, holding himself there as he came, his body shaking some as he attempted to thrust once more. 
You moaned at the feeling of him painting your walls, your hands in his hair as he buried his face in your neck, holding him to you. He stayed inside of you for a long minute as you both panted, trying to catch your breath, while he ensured he got all of his load out before he finally pushed himself up off of you, gently sliding out of you.
He flipped over next to you, laying on his back before he pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest as you laid in his left arm.
“Holy fuck,” you breathed, your fingers playing in his chest hair mindlessly as you worked to catch your breath.
His hand was running up and down your side soothingly as he moved to try and meet your eye.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’m better than okay, honestly. That was…amazing.”
“Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “but still, I’m sorry if I got carried away. I tend to run my mouth when I’m, uh,” he fumbled with his words, “ya know, in the moment.” 
He looked so bashful, you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his expression.
“You just said all of what you just said, but you had trouble with that?” you tittered, rubbing his chest before turning further into him, laying on your side as he stayed on his back, propping his right hand under his head as he relaxed into the position. “But really, Bucky, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t know if you could tell, but…I really liked it,” you simpered sensually.
Bucky smiled at you as you leaned up to meet his lips in a soft kiss. 
“It’s probably way late now, right?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “I should probably head back.”
Bucky sat up after you, “Do you have to?” he asked softly.
You looked back at him, his blue eyes set on you. You nipped at your lower lip before shaking your head lightly. A new, sweeter excitement washing over you.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you could stay for the night,” he offered. “I was hoping I could take you for breakfast in the morning?”
Your heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes as he waited for your response. That giddiness you felt earlier came over you once again as you held his gaze.
“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
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holylulusworld · 1 month
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A different kind of Valentine
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Summary: Your fiancé breaks your heart on Valentine’s Day out of all days.
Pairing: former!(any male character) x fem!Reader, Mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, break-up, mentions/implied cheating, making out with a stranger, language, drinking, tipsy reader, a little fluff
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Promises shouldn’t be broken.
Promises are meant to be kept. Right?
Love should be strong and unbreakable. If you swear to someone that you love and adore them, you cannot take it back so easily.
How could your fiancé take the words he whispered lovingly not months ago back?
“I can’t do this anymore,” he replied coolly when you asked why his suitcases were standing in the hallways. You believed he must go on yet another business trip.
That he wants to leave you never crossed your mind.
How foolish of you to believe that he wants to stay and keep his promises.
Shell-shocked you watched him grab your hand to slide his grandmother’s ring off of your finger.
You couldn’t think, speak, or even whimper. All you saw was the man you loved turn his back on you.
He stuffed the ring into his pocket, murmuring someone else’s name under his breath. You knew the name. Once in a while, he mentioned his assistant.
Of course, he had to turn your breakup into a cliché. He had to bang his secretary and leave you for a younger model.
If not for the tears running down your face, and the heaviness in your heart, you’d laugh at the fucked-up situation. It felt like you ended up in a bad rom-com slash comedy movie. The only difference was people weren’t laughing at the bad joke your life turned into.
“You can’t be serious,” oh, you finally found your voice. “Why are you doing this? Did you get bored? Is it the wedding? We could’ve talked things out.”
“That’s not it.” He grunted in your direction.
“Is she prettier? Better in bed,” you got angrier and louder. “Does she like it up her ass? Is it that?” You threw the next best things at him, making a scene. “What is it? Huh? Is her cunt squeezing your tighter?”
“You’re just not it!” He bit back and threw his hands up in surrender. “Can you not do this right now? How about you don’t throw a tantrum? People break up all the time!”
“Five years and that’s all I get?” You yelled. “I deserve better than a lame excuse! I want to know what happened to us!”
“I love her because I don’t love you anymore!” He yelled back, making you flinch at his outburst. “It’s not only that the sex is better. She’s all I ever wanted in a woman. You got too comfortable and want to cuddle on the sofa instead of going out and blowing me off behind a bar.”
“What?” You huffed. “I was the one trying to drag you off the couch! You only ever went out with your buddies.” He ignored your tears, and that your voice cracked. “I guess this never mattered. You had to fulfill the cliché. So, go ahead. We will see if she can make you happy.”
You stormed toward the door, blindly grabbing your keys and phone. It was impossible to stand there, staring at the gifts you placed on the coffee table in the living room.
“If you are still here when I come back, I’ll stab you right in the face,” you looked over your shoulder at the man who used to be your moon and stars. “If you touch my shit, you are a dead man. I will find you and your whore and turn you into dog food.”
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“Another one,” you slammed the glass down onto the bar counter. “Make it a double.” You placed fifty bucks onto the empty glass. “No, give me the bottle. I think I’ll drink it at home.”
“We don’t sell the bottle for you to take it home,” the bartender gruffly replied.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You glared at the burly guy. “I can drink the whole bottle at the bar, but I can’t pay for it and take it home?” Quirking a brow, you look at the man.
“House rules.”
“Fuck this,” you grabbed the fifty bucks and stuffed the money into your bra. “I’ll get more at the next liquor store. Fuck you, and all of you.”
“All of us?” The bartender asked with amusement.
Storming out of the bar you huffed again. “Fuck Valentine’s Day.” You muttered and walked away, almost running a guy over.
You glared at him and bared your teeth.
“Assholes with a ding-dong between their legs. You are all the same. Useless and worthless…”
“Hey, watch your step, doll,” the guy snickered when you threw your clutch at him. “Ouch, what do you think you are doing?” The man caught your clutch just in time.
“Fuck you too!” You poked two fingers into his chest. “You are no better than the bartender and my lovely fiancé. All of you are useless and have a limp dick. No man is worth my time.”
You snatched the clutch out of the man’s hands. “Language, lady,” he said, his voice now dangerously low. “If you don’t watch your tongue, someone might teach you some manners.”
“Oh, and you are that kind of man,” you slapped him across the face with your clutch. “Who do you think you are?” Usually, you wouldn’t attack a stranger in the dead of the night, but you were a little tipsy, and still mad because of the events of the day. “Threatening a woman.”
“Sweet cheeks,” he said while rubbing his face. It was still red from the slap, and he considered his next step. “I wouldn’t dare to raise my hand against you.” The man stepped closer to grab your clutch. “I said—” He grabbed you by your throat and slammed you against the wall, “I’ll teach you a lesson.”
“I’ll scream,” you began to race. Maybe you messed with the wrong guy. “Get off me.”
“Yeah, you will scream,” he smirked darkly and leaned closer to whisper in your ear. “I’ll make you scream my name, doll. So, what will it be? Do you want me to make you scream, or do you want me to make you whimper my name?”
“That’s not a choice!” You complained. “I have had enough of selfish men believing they can toy with me and my heart. I’ll cut yours out if you dare to touch me.”
“A cocky one,” he dropped his hand from your throat and pressed his hand against the wall, right next to your head. “Tell me, doll. Who hurt such a sweet girl?” He looked you up and down, hungrily roaming your body with his eyes.
“He—” You looked away and blinked a few times. “You’re not my therapist, and I’m not your problem.”
“You made it my problem when you attacked me because a douchebag hurt you. So, again. Who hurt you, doll?”
God, he smelled so good, and his lips tenderly pressed against your earlobe. You didn’t know what got into you, but you grasped for the stranger, taking him by supposed when you pressed your lips to his.
His hands grabbed your face, gently cradling it while he allowed you to dominate the kiss. “Doll,” he murmured against your lips. “You’re a little drunk, huh?”
“Make me forget about him,” you pleaded and fisted his jacket. “Here and now. Come on. Don’t be all talk.”
“I’d love to make you scream my name.” He pecked your lips twice. “I love me a crazy girl hitting me at first sight but, I won’t take advantage of you. You’re hurt, drunk, and a little lost. Let me take you home.”
“I don’t even know your name,” you gasped and stepped back. “I just kissed a stranger and asked him to fuck me. What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing is wrong with you, doll,” his features softened. “It’s alright. I’m a nice guy.” He smirked and laughed as you stepped back again. “My name is Bucky, okay. I’ll take you home if you want me to. Or I could call a cab for you.”
“Y/N,” you murmured your name, embarrassed about your actions. “Sorry. I didn’t want to attack you…or kiss you…or ask you to fuck me.”
“Y/N,” Bucky hummed. “A very nice name.” He said. “For an even nicer woman.” Holding out his hand Bucky waited for you to take it. “I won’t bite, promised.”
“Maybe I like it when you bite me,” you challenged him.
“Let’s stick to getting the alcohol out of your system,” Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulders when you didn’t take his hand. “Doll, you shouldn’t stay here. We started on the wrong foot, but I’m not a bad guy.”
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“What the shit!” You exclaimed loudly while you looked around your apartment. “That bastard had the guts to unpack the gifts I got him before leaving our home to bang that bitch.”
“Hmm…that him?” Bucky lifted one of your picture frames. “He looks like a douchebag. I was right.”
“Why did you come with me again?” You glanced over your shoulder at the stranger in your home. “I’m good. Really.”
“I won’t leave a pretty dame in need alone on Valentine’s Day,” Bucky said. “Not after that man left you for some other woman.”
“I’m fine,” you lied. “Just…mad.” You shrugged. “I had the whole day planned; you know. Dinner at our favorite restaurant, the perfect gift, and naughty underwear to…” You shook your head.
“His loss,” Bucky shrugged while looking at one of the gift bags on the table. “It should’ve been him making big plans for Valentine’s Day. If you love your lady, you spoil her.”
“He found someone prettier and sexier,” you sniffled. “He told me so. The man I loved fell in love with his secretary because he doesn’t love me anymore.”
“Again, his loss,” he stepped closer to look inside the gift bag, taking the lingerie out. “Red lace, huh?”
“He liked red…” You snatched the underwear out of Bucky’s hands. “I wanted to turn him on. It’s been a while since he was interested in doing more than sleep in our bedroom.”
“I’d say white suits you more,” Bucky threw the lingerie over his shoulder. “How about you change into your favorite outfit, and I invite you for dinner. No strings attached, doll.”
“You want to take me out?” You questioned.
“Please let me take you out,” he stepped closer to grab your hand. “You deserve to spend this day with someone who cares.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Yet,” he said. “Let me get to know you, please.”
You nodded and agreed to go out for dinner with Bucky. It was a risk, but one you were willing to take.
Valentine reloaded
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scoonsalicious · 24 days
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Like A Fairy Tale
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true.
Warnings: Language to make Steve blush, mentions of alcohol use, implied sex, angst with a happy ending.
Word Count: 3.4k This is my very first posted fic, and I am very nervous but I hope you like it! If I've missed any warnings, please tell me so I can add them. Much love and thanks to my bestie @jmeelee for indulging my obsession and dropping everything to read this when I sent it to her <3 Please pardon any spelling/grammar errors. I write for 18+, so minors DNI. _____________________________________________________________
Once upon a time, being Bucky Barnes’ girl had felt like living in a fairy tale. He was everything your younger self had ever dared to dream of in a Prince Charming– attentive, affectionate, kind, and oh, how he made you laugh! You were the envy of all of your friends, the very definition of #couplegoals, and you thanked your lucky stars every night that the two of you had found one another, despite all the odds.
But fairy tales aren’t real. 
You weren’t sure exactly when it started, but somewhere in the third year of your relationship, after you’d moved into a handsome brownstone in Brooklyn together, after you’d adopted a fluffy white kitten, Bucky started pulling away from you. The steps that took him from you were small at first– he was taking on more and more missions, opting to stay gone for longer periods of time. Days would go by, and they’d turn into weeks, then a month or two at a time would go by where you wouldn’t see him. 
At first, it hadn’t been terrible– Bucky had always made sure to contact you each and every day. A video call whenever he could, a phone call or text when he couldn’t, but slowly, so slowly you barely noticed, the calls stopped coming all together. Sure, he’d answer when you called him… when he could, which wasn’t always possible on a mission, and you hated acting needy and taking him away from his work, so eventually, you stopped reaching out, too. 
When he was home, you were like ships passing in the night. You always offered to take time off of work so you could spend some time with him before he was set to head out again, but he never wanted you to jeopardize your career on his account. Your reunions would always be passionate, but short-lived, a few hot and heavy nights before he took off once more to save the world. 
You tried not to let it bother you. You really, really did. His job was so important. People’s lives relied on him. Where did you get off getting upset over that? So, you kept it to yourself. Until you couldn’t. Not any more.
“Y/N,” your best friend, Lainy, cornered you at her annual New Year’s Eve party, “where’s Barnes? He’s been leaving you to go solo for months now. I don’t think I’ve seen you with him since Mark’s St. Patrick’s Day Party.”
Ouch. “He’s working, Lainy,” you told her, not wanting to admit that March had been the last time the two of you had gone out together, let alone spent more than three days in a row in each other’s company. 
“Yeah, he was ‘working’ over the Memorial Day trip, and the 4th of July BBQ, and Jack and Alice’s wedding, and your aunt’s funeral.” You cringed internally as she applied air quotes to ‘working.’ “And he was ‘working’ on your birthday, and Christmas. Babe, he’s been leaving you alone for almost an entire year. What’s going on? Are you sure there isn’t someone else?”
The worst part was, you knew there wasn’t, or at least, no one individual. When he’d first started distancing himself, of course another woman was the first thing that came to your mind, and you weren’t proud of yourself, but you’d gone through his phone to search for evidence of an affair… multiple times, and repeatedly came up with nothing. And bless Bucky’s heart, but he didn’t have the technological know-how to hide an infidelity from you. Granted, that didn’t negate the possibility that he was randomly hooking up with people while he was away. You’d have to be stupid to not consider the possibility.
You could have asked Steve. You didn’t think Captain America had it in him to lie to you about something like that, but you didn’t want him reporting on your suspicions back to Bucky, nor did you think you could stand to see the look of pity in his eye if he had to tell you that yes, Bucky was cheating on you while you anxiously awaited his return every night. So, you kept the suspicions to yourself. 
Your conversation with Lainy had left you deflated. Here it was New Year’s Eve, and you were alone, the man you loved god knew where– just not with you. How many more holidays and milestones and everyday nights were you going to spend by yourself, waiting for a man who never seemed to want to be home with you anymore? This wasn’t the kind of life you wanted, the kind of life you deserved. 
You made your way to the kitchen to refill your glass of wine. You’d probably already had too many, but you needed to drown the despair that was slowly filling you up. As you poured an exceptionally generous glass, a man entered the kitchen. You recognized him– Harris, a cousin of Lainy’s who had flirted with you relentlessly for years before you had started seeing Bucky. 
“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up upon seeing you, “it’s been awhile.” He enveloped you in a friendly hug. “How’ve you been?”
You smiled and exchanged pleasantries, catching up on the overall brushstrokes of your life. 
“I’m sorry about your breakup,” he offered gently, after you’d exhausted the usual small talk.
“My breakup?” you asked, brow piqued.
“Last few events I’ve seen you at, you’ve been alone. I assumed you and Barnes…” he left the thought floating, the implication hanging in the air: Barnes has left you alone, I assumed you broke up.
You huffed out a laugh. God. Was your relationship actually over and you were the only one dumb enough to not see it? 
“If you aren’t seeing anyone,” Harris continued, “I would really love to take you out. You’ve gotta know I’ve been into you for ages, and I figure if I don’t shoot my shot now, who knows when I’ll have another chance.”
You cocked your head and looked at him, taking in his earnest demeanor. Here was a man who genuinely wanted to spend time with you. Why were you waiting on someone who no longer wanted to be around?
“Um, I might have to get back to you on that, Harris,” you told him before excusing yourself. You needed air. 
You found yourself on Lainy’s balcony, the air deceptively mild for the end of December in Manhattan. Alone with your thoughts, you pulled out your phone and dialed Bucky’s number. It went straight to voicemail.
“Someone asked me out on a date tonight,” you said into the recording, your voice choked with tears you didn’t want to shed. “And I think I might say yes, because, honestly Buck, what are we even doing anymore? You’re never here, and I’m always alone. I tried. I tried so fucking hard to not let it get to me, because your work’s important. I know that. I do, and I’m not begrudging you for your job. But… but I can’t keep on like this. I can’t even remember the last time we spent more than three days together. Isn’t that crazy? Three days. Everyone thinks you’re cheating on me. Did you know that? You’re away so much that everyone I know is convinced you’re fucking someone else. Maybe you are, or maybe you already left me, but I’ve been too stupid to notice; if that’s the case, you could have just told me.” 
You kept your composure as you left the message. You weren’t angry at him; you never could be. You were just tired. So tired, and so lonely. 
“All I know is that it’s another night where I’m all by myself, wishing you were here, wanting to talk to you, to feel you, and you’re just… not. You’re off doing something, or someone, more important than me, and I used to be okay with that, but I can’t be anymore. I deserve more than waiting on you, Buck. I deserve to be someone’s priority. I really wish I could have been yours, the way you were mine. 
“So, let’s just call it, okay? Your heart’s obviously not in it anymore, and mine is too tired of being hurt and alone. We’ll have to figure out what to do about the house. I’m keeping Alpine, though. You haven’t been here for her, either, and it wouldn’t be fair of you to take her if you’re never going to be around.”
Inside, you could hear the rest of the party as they counted down to midnight. When they reached zero, the night erupted in fireworks, and you could hear cheers and cars honking their horns throughout the city below you.
“Huh,” you said into your phone, “it’s midnight. Happy New Year, Buck. I hope it ends up being a good one for you, and I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you decide you didn’t want to spend this last one with me.”
You hung up the phone and the tears finally fell as you slid down the balcony railing until you were crouched on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you sat there crying, but eventually Lainy found you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and ushering you into her spare room. She helped you change out of your cocktail dress and into a spare pair of pajamas, and helped you wash your face before tucking you into bed. She left you with a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead, promising that tomorrow would be better, that the next best chapter of your life was about to begin, but as you drifted into a fitful sleep, you couldn’t find the will to believe her.
You woke the next morning with a throbbing headache, the alcohol and the tears doing nothing but dehydrating you into agony. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but the battery had died in the night. From the slant of the sun coming in from the guest room window, it looked to be late morning or early afternoon. 
You changed back into your dress, thanking Lainy for her help and making a small joke about doing the walk of shame in your clothes from the night before. You avoided her questions about what had happened, promising to go over it at length at the weekend after you’d had some time to process. You weren’t in the best headspace to get into at the moment.
Fortunately, your best friend knew you well enough not to pry, and you said your goodbyes, plans for brunch on Sunday having been made. You weren’t eager to get back home, to be surrounded by reminders of Bucky, when all you wanted was the man, himself. But he was your ex-boyfriend now, you supposed. You were going to have to come to terms with that sooner than later. Besides, Alpine needed to be fed, and you weren’t going to abandon her.
Your keys clicked in the lock as you opened your front door. “Al, baby,” you called, kicking off your heels and closing the door behind you, “Mommy’s home. You hungry, sweetie?”
You began making your way back toward the kitchen when a loud crash from upstairs got your attention. You rolled your eyes; what had the cat knocked over now? 
But then there was the roar of a body barreling down the upstairs hall and toward the stairs, leaving you frozen where you stood. You cast a glance to where you’d left your phone in your purse by the door. Too far away to reach in time to call for help as the intruder came pounding down the stairs. 
A massive figure rounded the corner, nearly knocking you over.
“Bucky?” You blinked, sure your eyes were playing tricks on you, but no– there he stood, and he looked like shit. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and his eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. He’d obviously been wearing the same clothing for at least a day, if not more.
“Y/N,” he breathed, throwing his arms around you and wrapping you in an almost bone-crushing embrace. “Sweetheart, I was so worried.”
“What are you doing here, Buck?” you asked him, pulling away from him. God, you wanted to let him hold you, but you just couldn’t. Not anymore.
Bucky cupped your face in his hands, blue eyes desperately searching yours. “I got your message. Doll, it fucking broke my heart. I came straight home, but you weren’t here, and I was terrified that you were gone; that you’d left me for good.”
You scoffed. “I’m not the one who leaves, Bucky.”
He flinched at your words. “I know, Baby. I know, and ’m so sorry. I had no idea. I shoulda known what leavin’ you so much was doin’ to you, ‘cause it was doin’ it to me, too. When I heard you say that people– that you– thought I was cheating on you, that I had neglected you so much you thought I found someone else, that I could ever love anyone else, ever want anyone else– I’ve never hated myself more, doll. I can’t stand that you even had those thoughts in your head for one second, because it’s always been you. There’s never been anyone else. You’re it.”
“Then why have you been gone?” you asked him in a whisper. “If there’s no one else, and I’m it, why don’t you ever want to be with me? Why do you keep leaving?” 
Bucky ran both his hands along his face. “God, it feels so stupid now,” he said with a sigh. “But I was trying to save–”
“Trying to save the world, yeah, I know,” you interrupted him, annoyed. “Trust me, I’m well aware that I can’t compete with that. But I needed to know you thought we were worth saving, too, and you never did.”
Bucky started laughing then, and you scoffed. “Wow, you don’t have to rub it in, Bucky.”
“No, no– Sweetheart, no!” he shook his head. “That’s not it, at all. Hold on.” He went to the foyer and grabbed his go-bag; you had missed it when you walked in. Coming back to the kitchen, he put it on the table, opening it up and extracting a folded piece of paper and handing it to you.
It was a real estate listing for a farmhouse Upstate, with acreage on the Hudson. You and Bucky had talked about what kind of house you would buy if the situation had ever presented itself, and it was almost as if you’d dreamed it up.
You looked from the paper back to Bucky. “I don’t understand,” you told him.
“It needs pretty extensive renovations,” he told you. “I wanted to take on enough overtime to have the money for them and make a good dent on the mortgage, but it needed more work than I originally thought. And, I have to come clean– I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with you about where I’ve been spending all my time.” He looked up at you through his lashes, head bent down in shame.
“But… but, you said there wasn’t anyone else,” you stammered, heart ready to beat out of your chest. 
“Oh god! No, and I mean that! There isn’t, I swear! God, I’ve fucked this up so bad!” Bucky tugged at his hair in frustration. “I’ve been going on extra missions, but sometimes, Sam, Steve, and I go Upstate to do some work on the house, to cut down the costs so I could still make my timeline.”
“You already bought it?” you asked, your voice flat. You were in shock. “You want to move out? Away from me?”
Bucky moaned in distress and drew you to him again. “No! God, I’m doing this all wrong. I want us to move there, together. To make it the perfect house. The perfect home for me, my wife and our stupid fur baby.”
You stilled at his words. “I’m sorry, your what?”
Bucky smiled at you sheepishly as he reached back into his go-bag. “I’ll have you know that I had an entire plan. Was gonna have the house ready by Valentine’s Day. Take you up there as a surprise, ask you properly, but I fucked that up, so…” He brought his hand back out, holding a small burgundy velvet box. He opened it to reveal a vintage engagement ring, a sapphire instead of a diamond. Your favorite stone.
Bucky got down on one knee. “Y/N,” he began as his voice choked up a bit with emotion, “I know I fucked up for the last eight months. I would completely understand if you can’t forgive me, but I need you to know that I love you. I have only ever loved you, and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making up for the fact that, even for a moment, I let you think that you weren’t the most important thing in my life, my number one priority. Will you marry me?”
“Buck…” you began, not sure how to phrase what you were about to say. “What about your job? I can’t keep coming in second to the rest of the world, and I get that it’s selfish of me, but–”
“I quit,” he said simply.
“What?” Your eyes were wide with shock at his statement. 
“The second I heard your voicemail, where you said you wanted to call it because I was never there, I told Steve I was done, that I needed to start putting you first. It wasn’t even a question. I’m officially retired.”
Your mouth hung open. You had hoped he would cut down on his missions, but for him to have quit completely… You gently tugged him to his feet, taking the ring box and running a finger across it.
“It’s lovely,” you told him softly. “Absolutely perfect; exactly what I would have picked for myself.” Bucky beamed at you, pleased. “But I can’t accept it.” His face fell as you gently placed the ring back in his hands. 
“Oh,” he whispered, eyes growing glassy. “I… um, I understand. I fucked up, hurt you. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore.”
“I still want to be with you, you idiot,” you admonished him. “But you did hurt me, and we’ve been apart for a long time. We need time to find our way back to each other again, okay? Ask me again on Valentine’s Day, just like you originally planned. Don’t do it now just because you fucked up.” You leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him. “And if it helps make you feel better, I’m probably going to say ‘yes,’ anyway.”
Bucky grinned at you. “Really?” he asked. When you nodded, he picked you up and spun you in  a circle before pressing his lips to yours as if he hadn’t touched you in months. “I promise you, Sweetheart, I’ll do anything I can to make this up to you, I swear it.”
“Anything?” you asked with a smile. “I think I know where you can start.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked you. “And where’s that?”
“Take me to bed, Bucky Barnes,” you said, kissing him again.
Without a word, Bucky swung you over his shoulder and ran with you up the stairs, your squeals and giggles echoing behind him.
Much, much later, when you lay sated together tangled in limbs and sheets with Alpine snuggled next to your heads, Bucky played with your fingers as you rested your head on his bare chest.
“So, Doll,” he said, kissing the pads of each of your fingers, “you gonna tell me who had the nerve to ask my girl out on a date?” 
You laughed. “Lainy’s cousin, Harris. I suppose I’ll have to text him now and tell him I’m not interested.”
“Hell no, you’re not interested,” Bucky chuffed. “Gonna have to remind that punk you’ve already got a boyfriend. The position has been filled.”
“That’s the thing, though,” you said, planting a kiss on his nose. “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, do I?”
Bucky’s face fell. “But I thought you said–”
“I’ve got myself a fiance.”
Bucky tightened his grip around you, drawing you even closer to his warmth. “Yeah, okay. I gotta admit I like the sound of that a lot better.”
Your entire relationship with Bucky Barnes might not have played out like a fairy tale, but in that moment, you were more sure than ever that you two would get your happily ever after.
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buckypinetrees · 8 months
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Warm Pt. 2
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Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader (No use of Y/N)
Summary: After Bucky warms your bed and leaves you wanting more, Reader decides it's time for a little payback. Continuation of Warm
Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, enemies-to-lovers, oral sex (m receiving), orgasm denial
A/N: Thank you all for all of the love you showed towards part one. I truly was not expecting it to blow up the way it did and with so many people asking for a part two I knew I had to continue the story.
You were screwed. Absolutely screwed. Bucky had made you see stars last night and disappeared before you could return the favor. If you got out of this bed, his cocky smirk would be waiting for you, to gloat about how fast you were willing to give in to him. And if you didn’t get out of bed, you would be stuck in the same position you were in yesterday cold and hungry. So, you rose from the bed, fighting the urge to hide from him forever, and made your way to the kitchen.
Bucky’s smug grin was present as you entered the kitchenette. The smell of food wafting towards your nose and your stomach growled. Placing a hand atop it, you tried to silence the noise.
“Hungry?” He asked knowing full well you were. 
“What’s the catch, Barnes?” you questioned, eyeing him.
“No, catch. You just haven’t eaten, and I know you won’t make it five minutes out there fending for yourself” he smirked back at you.
Defeated you grabbed a plate from him. He had won every spat you two had since you arrived. You acted like a toddler, and you couldn’t take care of yourself. You hadn’t gotten any firewood and you were so cold you allowed him into your bed. And now you were eating the food he had managed to find. But you were done with that. Last night was a lapse of judgment. Today you would be stronger. You had to be. 
“How does it taste, doll?” Bucky seemed genuine as he gazed down at you. 
“It tastes all right,” you said back not daring to give him the satisfaction of knowing it was delicious. 
��You’re a bad liar” he shrugged at you and continued. “I’m not hungry after my feast last night so eat up little dove.” His voice dripped with sensuality as he shot you a wink. Your face immediately flushed as you mumbled some excuse about wanting to get started with your day. You pushed your way out of the cabin and made your way to the tool shed. You had two goals today. One, get firewood, and two, get some food. You found a worn ax and a shoddy fishing pole, but it would have to do.
You began to trek into the woods, careful this time to mark where you had been so you wouldn’t get lost. Another embarrassment on your part yesterday was having to follow Bucky back to the cabin after you got lost. That little outburst shouldn’t have happened if you were truly an Avenger. In the heat of battle, you would’ve been dead if you had lost your judgment like that. You had to do better.
Finding good firewood took longer than you expected. Searching for a dry enough tree in this snowy area was hard. But finally, you found a clearing of younger trees. Your muscles screamed as you brought the ax to the trunk. But repeatedly you swung, letting your anger and hatred toward Bucky take over. When you were done you had enough wood to last you a few days so you wouldn’t have to return for a while. But the task wasn’t done. You had to lug the wood back to the cabin. With as much as you cut, it would take at least two trips. You didn’t want to leave the ax either so maybe three trips then. Whistling sounded from the path you came from. 
“Hey there, little dove. Need some help?” Bucky’s voice rang out from behind you.
“I don’t need your help” You began to pick up the logs you could manage while also carrying the ax. 
“Really? You don’t need my help?” he scoffs, “You didn’t seem to mind my help last night.” He steps forward grabbing the ax out of your hand. His words have you curling your toes as you remember exactly what that pretty mouth did last night. 
Deciding not to grace him with a response, you simply picked up what you could and began making your way back. Bucky continued to hum as you walked back to the cabin, carrying whatever you couldn’t. The sun was already starting to set by the time you made it back. You would not have time to go look for food. Once again having to rely on Bucky for sustenance. 
You dropped the firewood off and turned to Bucky, but a response had already started to form on his lips. 
“Don’t worry, little dove. I know you were out working hard so I made sure to get enough food for the both of us. You know this would be much easier if you decided to work with me?”
“Thank you,” was the only response you could muster. Today you would accept his help but tomorrow with all the other necessities taken care of you would be fine. 
Bucky seemed pleased by this response and made his way to the kitchen to start cooking. You had to admit, Bucky was a damn good cook. He made the stuff he caught and trapped out here actually taste good. 
“Oh, by the way, doll,” Bucky said to you over his shoulder while he cooked, “I get the bed tonight.” You could not believe your ears. There was no way in hell you were giving up the bed. 
“No, you can sleep on the couch again,” you said angrily. 
“You didn’t let me finish. You can sleep in the bed too, but I am not sleeping on that damn couch again” Bucky said in a matter-of-fact tone. 
Despite your protests, it seemed like Bucky’s mind was made up, so you attempted to outwit him. After dinner you let him shower, quickly rushing to the bed. You would attempt to already be asleep so he would feel bad and have no choice but to sleep on the couch. 
Despite this after about an hour you heard the door to the bedroom squeak open. The side of the bed furthest from you dipped from the weight of Bucky sitting down. Your mind raced. He really had no care for what you had wanted, and sure maybe it was a bitch move on your part but here he was cuddling up next to you. It took everything in you to continue pretending you were asleep. Eventually, you heard his breath even out as he fell asleep next to you. 
Your sleep never seemed to come. You stared at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity as you tried to sleep next to the man who frustrated you to your core. Giving up now, however, would only make you seem weak in his presence. You tried to close your eyes one last time, as you heard a whimper fall past Bucky's lips. There must have been a mistake because when you listened closely, you heard your name slip past his lips. Not the nicknames he had deigned to call you. No, your own pure unadulterated name. 
You had come up with a new idea as you felt his hips lift off the bed in his sleep. Maybe a little payback for what he did to you yesterday was in order. Your hand traveled the length of his unclothed torso. Rubbing small circles against his nipples as he let out groans in his sleep. Your other hand traveled down to his waistband, playing with the fabric it found there. For a second you hesitated. Perhaps this wasn’t truly okay. He couldn’t consent like this. You pulled your hand back away from him but as you did his metal one grasped your wrist. 
With glossy eyes, Bucky simply said “Please little dove. Need you.” 
You shushed him. “Let me take care of you Sergeant.” Ulterior motives playing in your mind. 
You rose to kneel beside him. You trailed your mouth over each unclothed inch of his body until your lips met his waistband. Taking the fabric into your mouth you pulled it into your teeth before snapping it against his skin earning a groan from him. Your hand moved to palm his length as you continued your ministrations of leaving wet kisses against his chest. 
“Please doll,” he begged underneath you. 
You wanted him truly worked up for what you were about to do to him. You slowly moved his underwear down freeing his cock. His length bounced up to hit his chest as he sucked in a breath from the cold air. The tip already glistening with precum, but you avoided the area he wanted you most. Moving to leave kisses on his thick thighs. Little moans and whimpers fell out of his mouth. Your tongue darted out to soothe the red skin where you left bite marks. Eventually, you made your way up to his balls, licking at the seam between them. He bucked his hips up towards your mouth wanting more. 
“Remember what you told me last night Bucky? That I needed to learn patience? It seems like you were projecting.” Having the soldier become a moaning mess beneath you was only driving your ego. His moans and the way his hands dug into the sheets made your underwear into a puddle. But you had a plan, you couldn’t lose sight of it. 
Taking one of his balls into his mouth you began to rub his cock with the heel of your hand. His hips jutted against you as his mouth hung open. Once he was properly worked up you kissed your way up his length. Your tongue darting out to lick the angry red tip.
“God, Y-yes,” Bucky moaned.
“God can’t hear you now,” you say as you finally take his length into your mouth. Your tongue brushed over the veins that protrude from his cock. His hand metal hand clutching the sheets and his flesh one comes to brush your cheek. His eyes meet yours as he shows gentleness at this moment. You flush for the first time all night from his show of kindness even though you’ve been far more physically intimate with him. Bucky does not try to force you further down, simply enjoying the pleasure you are willing to give him at your own pace. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can manage, your throat closing around him in a gag making his thighs tighten up. Your hand moved back up to cup his balls. He threw his head back at your actions. 
“Little dove, I- I’m so close.” Bucky chokes out in between broken moans. 
You feel his balls tighten in your grip and you abruptly pull off him. His eyes open instantly going wide at his denied orgasm. You remove yourself from the bed smirking back at him. 
“Goodnight Bucky,” You step off the bed and make your way to the couch, silently celebrating your triumph. 
Tags: @unaxv
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slyyywriting · 1 year
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Your Hands On Me
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Your arranged marriage had simple rules: in sickness and in health, til death do you part and... uh, don't come home late?
Wordcount: 3k
Warnings: depictions of mob related violence, Bucky being a simp, husband!Bucky (pls it’s the hottest thing ever), explicit sexy times, sexy asphyxiation, marital bickering lol
18+ ONLY! IF YOU ARE A MINOR, KINDLY EXIT STAGE LEFT! DO NOT INTERACT!
A/N: This is a follow up to our mob arranged marriage au, When Your Kisses Climb and Put My Mind At Ease, aka the chaotic life and times of Mr. & Mrs. Barnes lol I love these two idiots so much. Thanks for tuning in! As always feedback is appreciated. Not beta'd but enjoy~
|| MASTERLIST ||
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You tap your phone again to check the time.
The tip of your ears tingle as you stare at the numbers. Two hours. Bucky is two hours late.
The worse part were the unread text messages. His last reply was an of course, my love after you asked him to stop by the sommelier for the wine you wanted re-stocked. And then you asked him ten minutes before seven o’clock if he was near the house so you could start setting up the table for dinner. No response. Not even a confirmation that he read the text.
That bastard.
You dial his number again as you blow out the candles you lined up on various shelves and some that were placed on the floor of your bedroom. You had painstakingly arranged red, pink, and white candles to set some mood lighting for the night. Not that you ever needed to curate an atmosphere of sensuality, you and your husband of convenience never had a problem getting into the mood. Bucky was perpetually hard with just the thought of you and you instantaneously get turned on just by his touch. The candles were there because you saw it in an old movie where a maiden was abducted by an evil lord of a manor; it was cosplay, really.
You growl at your phone when it tells you his number was unavailable and prompting you to leave a voicemail. “James Buchanan Botezatû Gheorghescu Barnes! You better have one hell of a good reason why your phone is off and cannot be reached for the last two hours or I swear to your beloved Mercedes-Benz 300SL that—urgh! You better be home by midnight or you can forget coming back!”
You hang up and toss the phone on your shared bed, crossing your arms as you fume. This kind of behavior was new from him and your eye twitches at all the possible scenarios that could be. If he was out there somewhere with a floosy on his lap, or on his dick? He would be able to experience your freshly sharpened kitchen knives.
“He should’ve just married that stupid car and left me at peace. Save us both the headache!”
---
Bucky was going to die.
Bucky never thought much about dying. When he was younger death seemed like such a foreign concept even when he saw it constantly but only viewed it as something that happened to the dumb and weak ones within his father’s organization. Through his years of observing the business and the men who were part of it, Bucky had concluded that death claims people who, one, over consume drugs and/or alcohol; two, act and react using their ego; and three, the deadliest of them all, getting involved with women.
Women had been the bane of his father’s existence and that was why he had three younger half-sisters from three different women. Bucky’s own mother shot George Barnes while he slept in the same bed as hers after she found out that his nanny, his tutor, and the family’s real estate agent all birthed George’s daughters.
All the bastards in the whole world could try and kill him but when Bucky decided to marry you he knew that he would only die by your hand. Now he posits it would be a possibility tonight as he checks his watch for the time.
He thinks as his gun clicks empty. He hisses as he runs out of bullets, gun fire still raging around him. He was too old to be in a gun fight so he didn’t think that having more than one extra cartridge on his person was necessary. But as Bucky hears John Walker’s continuous tantrum after the latter’s father sold to him their shipping business instead of passing it down to his son, Bucky tries to rationalize that this whole situation was an anomaly and not a regular thing that he could foresee to prepare for.
Bucky had to end this so he could go home to you.
---
--
-
You scream when your bedroom door slams against the wall. You kick off the covers and jump down to the floor beside your bed, reaching for the hidden gun under your nightstand, cocking and aiming it to the direction of your intruder. You pull the trigger—almost.
“I made it home! I made it back with one minute to spare!” the silhouette checks for their wristwatch and pumps their fist triumphantly. You tilt your head while keeping your aim steady, squinting at the figure before you.
“Bucky?” your voice is groggy with sleep but laced with confusion.
“Don’t shoot me, doll! It’s 11:59 and I’m here. Just like I promised!”
You toss the gun on the floor and run to your stupid husband, jumping into his arms. Bucky catches you with a small huff, his left leg stepping backward to keep his balance. You attack him with your lips, peppering his face before finally slotting them against his. You nip at Bucky, tongue playing against his, teeth clashing against each other before you pull back and kiss down his jaw towards his neck.
You sniff at him. He smelled like himself; spearmint, sandalwood and jasmine. Hints of rain was on his skin, smoke and something coppery—blood, maybe. You reach out to his hair and pull his head back making him groan. All in pleasure evidence by the way his hands grab and squeeze at your ass, filling his hand with your weight and flesh.
“Where the fuck have you been! You missed dinner!” you slap his shoulder and he lifts you higher against him. He closes the bedroom door with his foot and moves the both of you towards your bed.
“Car trouble. Took a detour.” He deposits you on your silky sheets, pulling at your pajamas, your old university sweatshirt and his boxers. He groans at the sight of you in his underwear before using both of his hands to tug them off of you. “Got shot at. Walked on some backroads. Hitchhiked. All to get home to my lovely wife.”
You hiss out a cuss when Bucky grabs your knees and spreads you open. Your cunt greets the cool air of your room and clenches at the sight of Bucky licking his lips hungrily. Your wetness seeps out when he moves to unbuckle his belt and pull the zipper down his pants. Fuck! You need him inside of you.
You kneel on the bed, grabbing his jacket and pushing them off his shoulders. It lands on the floor with a dull thud while you pull on his tie, leading him to the bed and pushing him to sit down. You straddle him before he could take the tie off and you do it yourself. You wrap the tie around your right hand and kiss him hard on the mouth.
You grind against Bucky, your naked core rubbing on his cock still confined in his briefs. The friction is delicious against your skin, the fabric of his pants warm against your naked thighs. You moan into his mouth as Bucky’s hands wander all over you. He settles both on your hips, pushing you harder against him, his own hips lifting up from the bed to push back against you.
“Fuck, that’s it Princess. Ride daddy.” Your husband urges you on as you moan louder against his lips, chasing the euphoria that the magic between his legs give you.
You push bucky down the bed so he was lying flat. You kneel on the bed and pull his cock out from their confines, pumping it slowly and spreading his precum around the head.
“I-inside—” you babble as you steady yourself, hovering on top of him while you swipe his mushroom head against your slit, lubricating him more with your slick.
“Yeah, princess. Daddy goes inside. Let me in—inside, fuck!” Bucky clenches his eyes and squeezes you in his hold as you manage to sheath yourself with him. You’re both breathless as you adjust to his girth, wiggling a little to test if you could take him—
You pull yourself up and slam back down against him. You curse in unison as your pace quickens. You ride him desperately until your knees shake and your thighs burn. Bucky holds you with one hand as the other reaches for your clit. He gazes up on you, chin raised to the ceiling eyes tightly shut and mouth open. You looked heavenly right now and he can’t help but worship at the sight of you.
“Was—was so worried,” you blurt out as you switch rhythm, sliding back and forth against him now instead. You set your legs farther apart and bend your body, lying flat on top of him. Bucky hugs your middle and presses you down tighter against him. He pushes his feet against the floor until he moves you both on the middle of the bed. “Thought something bad happened to you.”
Something bad did happen to him, Bucky thinks. Good thing he was worse and that alone helped him get out alive.
“I’m here now, princess. I’m here,” he assures you sweetly. His little heart beating erratic with your tiny confession. You worrying about him means you felt for him and this whole thing, this marriage of yours, was not a complete sham.
Bucky plants both his feet on the bed and uses it as leverage to hammer into you. His pace takes your breath away, a long lasting moan escapes from you as pleasure doubles. You were close, Bucky can feel it with the way you tightened around him. You shout as your orgasm hits you suddenly, a gush flowing out of you and drenching both you and Bucky.
You plant your hands on his chest as he continues to pound into you, sensitive from your pleasure. Your toes tingle as Bucky is relentless. You squirm against him, pushing off to escape him but his hold keeps you from running.
“Buck—I can’t. Fuck, please!” But he doesn’t listen. He grabs a handful of your ass and changes his pace instead. Slow and deep. In… Out… In… Out again. His balls slapping against your thighs as he enjoys the way your eyes seem to roll to the back of your head.
“Sure you can. One more! Give me one more.” His urging doesn’t help as your thighs shake again. Your hands go further north from his chest until they land on his neck. You whimper and wrap your lithe fingers around his throat and return to matching his thrusts.
You meet him with every push, moving your knee higher up until they plant just below his armpits. You squeeze his neck and grind against him, making sure to press his balls when you pull down. You see Bucky lick his lips, eyes glossy as your fingers press harder. His cheeks start to flush, ears turning red as his air gets cut short.
“That’s it. Fuck—” Bucky grabs your wrists but makes no move to remove them. You smile and kiss the tip of his nose and clench around his cock. He swears again and looks up the ceiling, his native tongue spilling from his lips until he loses it and let’s go.
Bucky spills inside you, warm and filling. His thrusts are inconsistent, following a rhythm of a tune only his cock knows. He continues to do so until he gets his fill, until he is satiated. And then you let your fingers loose. You follow the marks of them on his neck and place sloppy kisses on them until Bucky relaxes beneath you. You giggle and wipe his sweaty forehead before lying still on top of him.
You lay in silence for a while basking in each other, not even moving to detach from one another. You’re pretty sure you were dripping onto the sheets but that’s a problem for the morning.
“My love,” Bucky whispers as he draws circles on your back. You hum in response, eyes closed and depleted of energy. You hope he volunteers to wipe you down and get you a glass of water because you won’t be moving anytime soon. “I forgot to get the wine.”
You laugh at his confession before you drift into blissful sleep.
---
--
-
Bucky had been up for about an hour now and he still hasn’t seen you around. He woke up earlier hard and still inside you and fucked you slow while showering you with morning kisses. He remembers you telling him you loved him before he fell right back to sleep and you went and took a shower.
Up until now he had been on the phone trying to get an update on what went down last night and if Walker was alive. Then he saw you outside his office window talking to some people dressed in button ups and tied sweaters around their shoulders while you gesture to the direction of the garage. He hurriedly puts a shirt on and runs through to the house barefoot to get to the garage.
Once he gets there he eyes some of his men were all standing behind his wife, hands firmly behind their backs. He approaches you and you beam at him.
“Good morning, everyone. What’s going on, my love?” Bucky slides next to you, a territorial arm around your waist and peck to your cheek.
“Everyone, this is my husband, James.” You introduce him to the small crowd of strangers in his garage before you look at him sickeningly sweet. That little flicker in his eye tells you he’s still on cloud nine from last night and early this morning. Good. “Nothing, just a little tour. Breakfast will be served by the pool. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Bucky hums. You’re brushing him off. Trying to get rid of him. His little minx of a wife was up to something. Your smile was suspicious.
“Well, she definitely is a beauty. Shame for you to let her go but it’ll be my pleasure to take her off your hands.” One of the sweater tying pricks speaks out loud and Bucky can’t help but give him a murderous glare.
“The fuck did you just say?”
“Uhh, the SL? She’s beautiful, a classic. I’m happy your selling it in such pristine condition.”
You prevent Bucky from marching to the guy by holding him back. “My baby is not for sale—”
“It is! And she’ll be sold after Mr. Tyler proves he’s a worthy car dad.” You grin at Bucky, an evil twitch present at the corner of your mouth. He searches for something on your face before he inhales in realization.
“I got home on time and you’re still selling the car?!” He raises his voice in exasperation. He couldn’t believe it. He ran for five miles last night in dress shoes before he found a ride just so he could come home before midnight.
You scoff and raise your hands. “I checked the surveillance footage this morning, Barnes. Your foot stepped inside the house at 12: 58! You were fifty fucking eight minutes too fucking late! So kiss your baby goodbye because she is getting sold because daddy doesn’t know how to keep his promises of being home before the day is over!”
Tyler steps forward sheepishly and speaks.
“If I could just—”
“No!”
“No!”
Bucky points at your visitor to stop him where he stood without breaking eye contact with you. You did the same. You weren’t backing down, he lied last night. The liar!
“Princess, I know how to fucking read my watch and it said one minute to midnight when I got into our bedroom, before you rode the life out of me. Remember? You were creaming on my dick because you think it’s hot as fuck when I come home running to you before fucking midnight.”
“See?” Bucky raises his arm and presents you his watch. A gift you gave him after the first time he went home at two in the morning. A reminder that you would not tolerate waiting on him past the midnight hour if he wished to continue with your marriage. You peek at his watch, doing a double take before you guffaw. Followed by a loud laugh that had you doubling over.
“Tyler, I’ll draw the documents for the ownership transfer inside. Come with me.”
“Do not! Take another step, Tyler. In fact, turn around, get your ass in your car and get off my property.” Tyler and his compatriots of frat boys and finance bros stutter as they look between Bucky and you. When they remain frozen in place, Bucky pulls his gun from his back and aims it at them. He hits the light above Tyler and the bulb explodes over the boys. “Go! Now!”
Your visitors scatter and you hit Bucky’s shoulder.
“You’re not selling my SL to some sweater wearing dimwit.”
“You were late! That was the deal!”
“I was not late—”
You pull your phone from your pocket and show him the time. See? You tell him but Bucky just looks at you and huffs, not getting it. You groan and grab his wrist, turning the watch into his view side by side with your phone. Your time says 10:28am while his watch shows 9:28. He looks between the two and still doesn’t get it.
“Oh my rolex, Bucky! Your watch is behind. It’s telling the wrong time! You’re an hour late. I told you to get it adjusted but you refuse to remove it from your wrist.” You push him out of your way and go back inside the house.
Bucky stutters and groans. How the fuck was he supposed to know that.
“Daylight savings started a couple days ago, boss.” One of his men supply helpfully.
Bucky waves his gun dismissingly before tucking it back to his waist. He takes off the watch for the first time in a while and adjusts it an hour ahead. He’d have to think of a workaround for this one. He’s not letting that car go and although his time reading was wrong, his intentions were definitely right. He wonders how he could convince you as he looks for you back in the house.
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P.S. this is Bucky's baby lol she's rare and worth 6.8 million usd
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4K notes · View notes
viixenvi · 3 months
Text
𝐑𝐞𝐝 | 18+
Summary: You work at a strip club and Bucky is a regular. Tonight he specifically asks for you in a private room. You never thought he'd love the color red on you so much.
Characters: Bucky x Fem!Reader
Warnings: A lot of smut, slight Dom!Bucky, praise kink, blowjob, handjob, teasing, edging
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈
A/N: This is my first time posting smut on here so pls forgive me if it's not the best.
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It was a slow night. You considered not coming in but your co-worker Tiffany begged you to come in so the two of you could get drinks at the end of shift.
"It's the slowest night ever," Tiffany whines, throwing her head back and holding up the twenty dollars she had just counted. Her bottom lip popped out slightly and she pouted.
"You wanted to work tonight," you shrug, pulling your hair out of the ponytail it was just in. It falls down your shoulders and the curls sit nicely on your back.
"I forgot Thursdays are always bad." She gets up and puts the money in her bag. She shuffles to the lockers and kicks the bottom of hers, causing it to open. That makes you laugh as you fix your lipstick that had smudged from my stage routine earlier.
You stop to look at yourself in the mirror. The red lace lingerie bra you are wearing holds up your boobs amazingly. The matching thong makes it all come together. All of it is covered by a red sheer mini-dress. You push the bra up and fix the straps.
"Y/n you got the second private room," one of the new girls informs you. You give her a smile and nod, letting her know you acknowledged what she said. Her heels click against the floor as she walks away. You feel Tiffany's hand on your shoulder as she leans into you to fix her heel.
"You are about to get so much money," she giggles, the alcohol on her breath was more prominent now. She wasn't supposed to drink on the clock but she didn't care at all.
Once she takes her hand off you, you walk out the door and down the hall to the main floor. The new girls are surrounding the younger men in suits. They don't understand that the old guys are where the real money is. You smile to yourself and walk to the bar.
"Who do I have tonight?" you ask the bartender, and she smugly smiles at you.
"Your favorite broody regular," she jokes. You groan. The Winter Soldier. He always just sits there and watches the girls, never interacting with them or throwing money. You rub your head and prepare yourself for the hour-long dullness that will definitely be happening.
"Cheer up, at least he paid for the room," she tries to help but it just makes you not want to go anymore. If it was a regular that you disliked but actually got money from then you'd be happier to do this. But he just sits there and drinks while looking like he hates everything and everyone. You collect yourself and turn towards the room.
The worst that can happen is you sitting next to him for the next hour doing nothing.
The music is blasting in the rooms, You know your favorite song is on next so at least you have something to look forward to. You giggle to yourself and swing open the door. Your eyes meet with his, they are cold and unwelcoming like always.
"Hi, Mr. Barnes, what would you like tonight?" You ask, not knowing his preference since this is his first time straying from his usual routine and getting a room.
"Call me sir," He says, his voice lacking emotion. To you, he's just cold. You don't know how he feels when you walk into the room. How he feels watching you dance.
How much his heart is racing right now while he looks at you in that red mini-dress.
"Yes sir," You oblige, his lip twitches for just a split second, but you notice it. He sips his beer and clenches his jaw. His eyes glide down your body, every inch of it being burned into his brain. He wanted his hands to roam your body instead. Touching every part of your body.
The song you love finally comes on, you smile and he notices your sudden mood change. "I love this song!" you say to him. He nods, taking in the new information.
"Dance for me Doll," he tells you, his voice slightly changed. His eyes were now fixated on your face looking from your eyes to your lips. You start dancing, dragging your hand across various parts of your body.
Bucky re-adjusts his seat on the big couch. His hands fell over his crotch and covered it slightly. He can't keep his eyes off of you. He's been watching you since he started coming here.
It started as nothing but he soon started to come in regularly for you, of course you didn't know this. He tried so hard to keep cool when he would see you. You consumed his thoughts all the time. He hated it.
He doesn't like that you can so easily exhaust his thoughts when he imagines all the ways he can ruin you. Your hair falls in front of your chest. The same hair he thinks about pulling while he fucks you.
Bucky soon realizes his cock is starting to get hard underneath his jeans. The bulge is now very noticeable to you. You stop to stare for a moment. You've never seen him have any reaction to any of the girls dancing.
"Fuck," Bucky mutters under his breath. You lock eyes with him, and you now notice the lust in his. He's trying so hard to hold back but the way your dress has hiked up and your ass is in full view makes his cock throb even more.
"Sir?" You say, he groans in response. His eyes are closed now, hand over his bulge. You get on your knees and lean on his legs, your hands on his thighs.
"Do you need help with that?" His eyes open and he looks at you. You look at him with an innocent face. He knows what you are doing and he wants it so bad.
His hand reaches out and his thumb rubs your cheek. You smile up at him and he licks his bottom lip before pulling it in with his top teeth and letting it go.
"Fuck, I just can't control myself around you Doll," He admits. You are slightly surprised. The Winter Soldier can't control himself around you?
"Sir?"
"Yes, doll?"
"Let me help you," You say as you reach for the zipper on his jeans. You unzip it, your eyes still locked with his. You pull his boxers open and feel his cock in your hand. Your eyes finally leave him and widen at the sight of it. It's huge. He laughs at your expression and pulls your hair up into his vibranium arm's hand.
You run your thumb along his shaft, stopping at the tip and rubbing it with the pad of your thumb. He groans and pulls your hair. You smirk and do it again.
He pulls your hair again and directs your mouth to his tip. "Suck." That's all you need to hear before you push your head all the way down. Your throat tightens around his cock. He moans and throws his head back, gripping your hair tighter.
"You are doing so good," he breathes out. Your hands grip onto his thighs as you gag on his dick. His legs are slightly shaking already.
"Going to cum already?" You tease him. He looks down at you, pulling your hair back and leaning his face inches away from yours.
"I've been watching you all night. If I had my way, I'd fuck you right here right now," He whispers to you. This makes you blush, you are already so wet and this makes it worse. Your stomach is doing flips.
"So why don't you?" he smiles and caresses your face with his other hand.
"Because you're too pretty to fuck here. I'd rather take you back to my place where we can have some real fun. I can show you how I have sex." His lips are just inches away from yours. You can feel his breath graze them.
You can't take it anymore, your lips crash into him and he pulls you closer. He bites your bottom lip, licking right over it after. You moan into the kiss causing him to move his vibranium hand to the bottom of your dress, pulling it up.
He breaks the kiss, pulling the dress over your head. "Take those panties off and touch yourself," he leans back, disregarding your dress somewhere on the floor.
"Yes sir," You get up and sit on the table in front of him, slowly pulling your panties off. Unlike the dress, it's thrown at him and he happily takes it.
Your hands glide down from your chest to your stomach and finally to your clit. He wraps his hand around his cock, watching you with an intense lust in his eyes.
You feel the excitement, you have never done this before. Yes, you masturbated in private, but in front of someone is way different. The familiar feeling of pleasure courses through you as your fingers rub your clit in a circular motion.
Bucky's hand is mimicking your actions from earlier. Moving up and down his shaft. He moans and closes his eyes but doesn't stay like that for long. He can't look away from you. You are a gorgeous sight.
Your moans only make him go faster, which in return makes you go faster. The music in the rooms muffles the sounds you both make, so no one knows what you two are doing.
"Shit, I'm so close," Bucky whispers. You whine when he pulls your hand away and kisses you. The pleasure you were having was something you were now craving. You wanted to touch yourself so badly.
"Be a good girl and don't touch yourself." You listen to Bucky. Even though you are beyond horny. He continues to touch himself, wrapping the panties around his cock.
You whine and grind against his leg for some friction. If you can't touch yourself then you can use him too. He chuckles at your actions. Smirking at how needy you now are.
"Fuck!" He moans out, finally releasing the cum he was holding in. You are too focused on your grinding to realize what just happened, so Bucky helps with that by pulling you off him and back onto the floor.
"Why did you do that?" You squirm. He pulls your hair back again and kisses you, this time more softly.
"Because you are not allowed to cum till I say so," His thumb caresses your cheek again, you lean into his touch but he pulls away. The panties he came on are in his hands. He looks at them then back at you.
"Wear them." He tosses them into your hands. You pull them on and look back at him, expecting more orders. He stands up and zips his jeans, this causes you to stand up too.
His hands reach down, grabbing a handful of your ass before smaking it hard. "God, I love the color red."
You lean in for a kiss, which he gives you. "Can I meet you after my shift?" You ask, a little desperate but it doesn't bother you now.
"I'll be waiting for you on my bike, wear a little more clothes," He teases before walking out of the room
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658 notes · View notes
notafunkiller · 4 months
Text
treat you better: masterlist
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summary: Caught between playing the girlfriend of Bucky’s younger brother and the unexpected allure of Bucky’s genuine affection, you don’t know what to do.
pair: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader
warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 38/39), teasing, dirty talk, or@l sex, fingering, pet names, daddy kínk, language, no mention of y/n
parts:
treat you better
cherry
unveiled
we found wonderland
788 notes · View notes
rookthorne · 1 year
Text
⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐖𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧’, 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧’
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It was only meant to be a visit — to get to know them better, learn of their dynamic and learn just how you would fit in. They, however, had other ideas.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ༄ Fireman!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Fireman!Steve Rogers
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ༄ 5.2k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ༄ Fluff, aftercare ჻჻჻ SMUT: Oral (F + M receiving), fingering, protected piv, mutiple orgasms, denied orgasm, dom/sub/switch dynamics ჻჻჻ KINKS: Dirty talk, praise, voyeurism, exhibitionism, degredation, dumbification, objectification
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ༄ Look at those warnings, huh? Yeah, have fun folks. ✌ ༄ A very special thank you to my love, @duckybarnes1917's for your help and encouragement when I pitched this idea to you.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ༄ Eat Your Young by Hozier
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ༄ @sgt-seabass
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ༄ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟰 — First Responder AU — Masterlist
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𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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It had been only a few days since that encounter at the station. 
Embers had settled like lead weights in your stomach, lighting up your nerves with a mere spark – more often than not it was their text tone, or the sound of their honeyed voices on a call that was the culprit and soul cause, and the bastards knew it, too.
Very little deliberation was needed to come to your decision. An inane part of you, perhaps closer to the surface than you cared to admit, nor acknowledge, wanted this. You wanted to be a part of what they were, you wanted to feel the warmth of the love they could give, and… many other things. 
Before that thought could dig its claws too deep, the open roller doors of the station came into view, and you took a deep breath as you walked up the driveway. Steve and Bucky had asked you to pop in for a visit, and they had offered to take you home when their shift ended – naturally, you had been apprehensive about just whose home you’d be returning to. 
“There she is!” Steve called, making his way down the driveway with Bucky peeking around the doorway with a bright smile. “Hey there, sweetheart,” Steve said, glancing you up and down – and the action didn’t leave your skin crawling as you had felt all too many times before with other men, rather, you felt shy. “How’re you doing?”
“Good– I’m good, Stevie,” you replied, happily accepting his hug. 
“Hey! Nuh-uh,” Bucky rushed, jogging over, a full pout on his lips. “My turn.” Steve laughed and let you go, only for you to be swept into Bucky’s arms and off your feet. “She’s mine now, punk,” Bucky called, carrying you as he stalked into the station, ignorant of your breathless laugh and pleas to be let down. “Shouldn’t have let her go.”
“Let me down, Buck,” you laughed, hitting his shoulder with your hand and holding around the back of his neck for dear life with the other. “Please!”
“Alright, alright,” Bucky soothed, and he set you gently down on your feet. “There you go. Now, we’re cutting our shift short because Nat and Peter were gracious enough to come in an hour early.”
“Bless ‘em,” Steve cut in. “So, we can head home, decompress and relax, y’know.” The not-so-subtle wink and sly smirk gracing Steve’s handsome features only caused the inferno to ignite. 
Before you could reply, Bucky shoved him towards the locker room. “Get a move on then.”
Steve left with a salute and that left Bucky and you standing beside a parked fire truck. You went to open your mouth to speak, but a quiet yipping noise stalled the cogs in your mind, and you stared at Bucky with wide eyes. “Was that a dog?”
The sheepish shrug and shy smile that grew on his lips made him look so much younger – a boy caught red handed with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yeah… surprise?”
“You have a dog?”
Bucky went to open his mouth when the door leading to the office opened abruptly, and Peter appeared. “Oh, hey! It’s good to see you- whoa!”
You watched in awe as Peter stumbled, pushed to the side by two fast blurs darting out from behind his feet. They were small, but fast and over excited, the exact embodiment of what a puppy–puppies, would be. “You have puppies!”
“Yeah, yeah- Captain, no! Sit,” Bucky commanded, and you watched as the most excited of the two fell back from scrambling up your knees to his back legs in a perfect, fluid movement. You crouched down to be level with the two black and white – Dalmatian – puppies, cooing at them quietly. The smaller and calmer of the two stared up at you through bright blue eyes curiously, a slight tilt to their head.
“Who are these precious babies?” You asked, offering a hand to them so they could sniff. “They’re adorable.”
Bucky groaned as he kneeled down. “‘M gettin’ too old for this shit,” he joked, and you chuckled.
“You’re ageing like a fine wine, Buck,” you replied before you thought better of it, and your eyes widened. Shit, you silently cursed. 
“Why thank you, honey,” Bucky purred. Fuck. “Anyway,” he continued, pointing at the larger of the two puppies. “This is Captain, he’s Stevie’s boy.” You cooed at Captain and he whined quietly, wiggling with excitement. “And this,” Bucky pointed at the smaller puppy, a soft smile on his lips and eyes bright with love, “is Cleo. She’s my little girl.”
“I love them so much,” you gushed, not realising how Bucky’s gaze that held so much adoration and softness for his little Cleo, to you. “How old are they?”
“Old enough to be terrors,” Steve said above you and you jumped. “We goin’ home?”
“Yeah,” Bucky replied, getting to his feet with a huff. “You ready, doll?”
You nodded and scratched behind Captain and Cleo’s ears. “Do they stay here, or-”
“No,” Steve laughed, smiling fondly down at the two puppies. “C’mon guys, home time.” Like a scene from a Disney movie, the two bounding balls of energy ran after Steve as he walked out of the station, presumably towards their car. 
The jingling of keys pulled you from the sight of Steve’s broad back and you looked over at Bucky to see him already staring at you, a brow raised and an arrogant smirk plastered on his lips. “Quit ooglin’ my husband, honey,” he said, his voice low. “A fella might get the idea you want him more.”
You had the sense to roll your eyes at his dramatic ways, and he laughed as he slung an arm over your shoulder. His grin was contagious and you couldn’t help but mimic it as he walked you out the door, pointing the set of keys to a huge pick-up truck. “Let’s go home, hey?”
The drive home was sat in comfortable silence, interrupted by bouts of banter and the barking yips of overexcited puppies. Before long, Bucky pulled the truck into the driveway of a modest home reminiscent of a brownstone flat – the yard was small but tidy, and there was a two-car garage attached to the side. 
“Alright,” Steve said around a yawn. The puppies in his lap shifted and whined restlessly. “Welcome to our humble abode, sweetheart.”
“It’s gorgeous.” 
Bucky made a small noise of contentment and slid out the driver's seat, while you shifted and followed Steve off the bench seat and out the passenger door. The puppies ran onto the yard and jumped over one another, making you giggle at their antics. 
You could hear Bucky moving around the front of the truck and you went to look over your shoulder at him, only to jump and gasp in fright as Steve’s hand – callused and warm, grabbed your own and threaded his fingers through yours. “Easy, sweetheart,” Steve cooed, tightening his grip. “C’mon, come inside.”
With little choice, but with no hesitation, you followed Steve as he followed Bucky to the front door of their home. “Captain, Cleo– here,” Bucky called, and the two puppies ran between the gaps and through the doorway. “Bring our girl in, punk,” Bucky goaded, watching Steve as he stood in the doorway, still holding your hand and staring at you with an unreadable expression – Bucky’s voice seemed to wake him from his trance and he pulled you inside. 
The fact that Bucky moved to stand right behind you as soon as you walked through the threshold of their home, sent a chill of something up your spine and that pit of embers to become a sparking heap again. 
“D’you want something to drink, darlin’?” Steve asked. The endearment made your eyes widen only slightly and you recovered just in time to ask for some water – just. 
Captain and Cleo moved to settle on a giant dog bed in the living room beside the open doorway, and Bucky put a hand on your lower back, urging you forward into the cosy room and towards a couch. “Make yourself at home.”
“Okay,” you mumbled, taking a seat between three giant pillows. Opting for comfort in this new environment and in the presence of these two Gods among men, you grabbed one and leant it on your knees, hugging it to your chest. 
You watched as Bucky toed off his boots and slipped the suspenders off his shoulders, only he caught you staring and he smirked. “You’re so adorable, honey,” Bucky cooed and you felt hot, the cinders in your stomach igniting into a dull roar. “‘M gonna go get changed, Stevie will be with you in just a second, alright?”
As if Bucky had summoned him, Steve appeared around the corner, wearing sweats and a white tank top with a glass of water in one hand, a mug filled with a steaming liquid in the other. Steve and Bucky smiled at one another, and you watched with your mouth slightly agape as Bucky cupped the back of Steve’s neck roughly and pulled him into a kiss – holy fucking shit, you cursed. 
The visual was burnt into your eyelids and you took a deep breath just as they pulled apart, and Bucky departed – though not before he smacked Steve on the ass, the latter only rolling his eyes in response. 
“Here you go,” Steve said, offering you the glass of water before falling onto the couch next to you. He groaned loudly and threw his head back over the back of the couch and shuffled his legs so his thighs were spread, and you couldn’t resist the urge to stare at the way his muscles moved and pulled taut to show off that damned jawline. “You stare any longer, sweetheart, and I won’t be able to control myself.”
Dammit, you swore. So much for subtlety. 
More to distract yourself, you took a gulp of water and placed the cup down on a coaster on the coffee table. A low huff and whine came from the dog bed next to the couch and you looked over to see Cleo already staring at you sleepily. “Such an adorable baby girl,” you cooed.
“Nope, that’s you, honey,” Bucky said suddenly and you almost squeaked – thankfully you killed the noise in your throat before you could embarrass yourself further. “I know we talk every day at this point,” he continued, flopping down on your other side, and tucking his knee up under his other thigh so he could face you. “But how are you–how have you been feeling?”
It was difficult to discern just what he was asking – was he asking about how you felt about them? About the risque and teasing texts and calls you had more often than not initiated? 
“Don’t stress that pretty head of yours, honey, I meant exactly what I asked,” Bucky said quietly, and you felt Steve shift next to you, his interest obviously piqued. “How are you doing? Work, all that shit.”
“Oh,” you breathed, relieved. “I’ve been good, work has been busy–but I’ve been good.”
“We know,” Steve purred, his breath suddenly very hot against your neck. “Because you’re our good girl, aren’t you?”
You blanched. “What the-”
Their laughter broke the tension – deep belly laughs and wide grins, though when you looked at Steve, his grin had something else teasing, wolfish, and you found you liked it. 
“I would say I’m sorry,” Steve tried, grinning and flicking his gaze between Bucky and your deer-in-headlights-esque shock. “But I’m really not.”
“You fuckin’ menace, Stevie,” Bucky chuckled. “Leave ‘er alone!”
“What the hell was that?” You demanded, a grin teasing your own lips. In no way were you mad, though you were shocked with the visceral reaction to those simple words had on you – you knew you liked it, but that much?
You were doomed. 
“Nothin’, nothin’,” Steve sighed, still grinning, though he eyed you like a wolf who had cornered his prey. The air became thin and you felt Bucky shifting closer – the tension in the room crescendoed and your breath hitched as they fell silent, the heat of their combined gazes almost too much to bear. 
“Sweetheart,” Steve started, his voice low, tentative; an unspoken hesitance. “We brought you home to get to know you, and we are going to get to know you, just as you would get to know us, but,” he leant forward and time stopped – Steve was in your space, unyielding and determined to be heard. “Do you want this?”
“This?” You echoed breathlessly, only to end on a gasp when Bucky’s hand moved to your neck – no pressure exerted, no sense of danger, but a promise and an intention that stole your breath completely. You could feel Bucky’s thumb brushing soothingly against the side of your neck, but it only sent your head spinning.
Damn him for listening when you let slip you had enjoyed the thought of his or Steve’s hand around your throat. 
“Listen to Stevie, honey,” Bucky said, his tone firm and insistent. 
“You call the shots here,” Steve continued, though his gaze flickered from Bucky’s hand to your face. “But, to be honest, I want this–so does Buck, don’t you?”
“More than you can imagine,” Bucky growled. “What d’you say, doll?”
Blood pounded in your ears and you gulped, the movement against his hand made Bucky exhale heavily. “Yeah–Yeah I want this, I want it-”
“You tell us to stop if you need us to,” Steve commanded, watching only you and you met his gaze. “Understood?”
“Understood,” you answered.
The wolves pounced. Bucky tightened his grip on the sides of your neck while his other hand went to your hair, gripping it and pulling gently so your face was tilted up, where Steve claimed your mouth – his kiss was surprisingly soft, gentle from what you had expected. 
“Bedroom, now,” Bucky rasped, and Steve pulled back, running his thumb along your bottom lip. 
“Fuck,” Steve growled, his voice just as raspy as Bucky’s – like your admission and want for this had turned them feral. They pulled you to your feet and you gasped with the rush. “Jump, darlin’,” Steve demanded, and hazy as you felt, you did as you were told; only for the ground to become suddenly very far away. “Atta girl.”
Steve was carrying you – he was carrying you, and Bucky’s hand was insistently groping at Steve’s ass as he carried you down a hallway. “How are you-”
“Firefighter, honey,” Bucky drawled while he kicked the bedroom door shut with his foot. Steve placed you gently down on the bed and stood up, and when Steve moved to shuck down his sweats, Bucky whined, his hands flying forward and gripping Steve’s shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss – teeth and tongue clashing like they were going to consume one another. 
Bucky pulled back only far enough to pull down Steve’s sweats, boxers included. “Mine, don’t do my job, Stevie- Fuck,” Bucky breathed, rushing to literally tear at Steve’s tank top with ease.
“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, and the two turned their heads to look at you – Steve’s expression heightened with a smug smirk, while Bucky looked at you through hooded eyes and a wolfish grin. 
“She’s pretty, ain’t she, Stevie?” Bucky said through his teeth, his gaze flashing dangerously. “I wan’ her.”
“Go to her, baby,” Steve ordered. The tone sent your stomach into a fit and the inferno spread like wildfire through your every last nerve – the intensity sending a rush of vertigo and you found yourself reaching out, desperate to touch. “Go on, you don’t stop until she comes, understood?”
Heaven above, you wondered if you could come alone from those words. 
“C’mere,” Bucky said, pulling you to your feet. With just as much ease as he had torn–undressed Steve, Bucky left you standing bare for only a solitary second before he pulled you onto the bed with a low, rumbling growl. The pillows were soft under your head and you sighed happily as Bucky settled his boxer-clad hips between your spread thighs. “You alright, honey?”
“I’m great,” you grinned, and Bucky laughed before he surged forward, marking the column of your throat with expert precision until your eyes fluttered closed. “Bucky, please-”
“Please what, sweetheart?” Steve asked, hovering by the head of the bed before he reached over and fisted Bucky’s hair, pulling back harshly. The moan that left Bucky’s lips made your breath stutter. “What do you want? Tell us.”
Bucky moved and tilted his head down, and whether it was a help or a hindrance, his clothed cock rubbed insistently against your clit and you moaned. “Be a good girl for us, honey,” he whispered, and he dropped to his elbows, caging you against him. 
“Please, please, I- I need to-”
“You want to come, is that it, darlin’?” Steve pondered. His gaze suddenly pinned Bucky in place, a realisation behind his flickered aggression. “Buck, baby, you didn’t do as you were told.”
Bucky froze before he lowered his head against your neck, mouthing at it while moving his hips against your heat torturously slow. “‘M gettin’ to it, Stevie,” he replied, his breath hot against your neck and suddenly, he started sucking in earnest – the sharp, intense feeling forcing a choked moan from you. 
“Get to it faster, then,” Steve admonished. You could sense the eye roll Bucky hid by the curtain of his hair, but he still moved down your body, mouthing at your skin and leaving a trail of heat that culminated between your hips – unbearably so. 
You watched, your breath hitching, while Bucky moved your legs either side of his head so your thighs rested on his broad, muscled, and tattooed shoulders. “Oh, god-” You tried, only for your breath to stutter and falter at the first broad lick of Bucky’s tongue against your clit. “Fuck!”
“Go on, baby,” Steve muttered, watching Bucky as he nestled closer. “Fuck her with your tongue.”
The feeling was indescribable – the pull of Bucky’s mouth and the warmth and pressure of his tongue insistently drawing patterns just as pretty as his tattoos on your clit, only to stop and move his tongue down, paying attention to your weeping cunt. You couldn’t hear his groans and moans over the roaring in your ears, though you were grounded by the soft brush of Steve’s fingers down your neck and over your shoulder. 
It was short lived. 
As Bucky forced his tongue to do as Steve had ordered, Steve lowered his head to suckle at a breast, his hand coming to cup your other breast and flick the hardened nub until you whimpered. 
The bed began to squeak and rock and you lifted your head to see Bucky’s hips thrusting desperately against the edge. “Baby, no, you come when she does,” Steve cut in, his tone snappish and commanding. You could have sworn you felt Bucky’s whine through your entire body with how he had sucked your clit into his mouth. 
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Steve purred, turning to look at you. A harsh suck from Bucky forced a hiccuped moan from your lips and you whined, fisting your hands in Bucky’s hair. “He’s makin’ you feel good, huh?”
“Y-Yeah, oh, fuck- Ah!”
“Oh, sweetheart, lookatchu,” Steve continued, ignorant of your heaving breaths and inability to hear nor compute a damn thing except for the fact Bucky was swirling and suckling at your clit like a man starved. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”
“Bucky! Oh, fuck- Fuck!” You cried, startling at the feeling of Bucky’s fingers burying themselves deep in your cunt. “Please!”
Your pleading only spurred Bucky on, and you watched through blurred vision as Steve grinned wickedly, his gaze focused on Bucky's head shaking side to side. “You’re fuckin’ her real good, baby,” Steve breathed, and his gaze snapped towards your pleading expression. “Oh, you’re close, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Yeah!” You cried. “Steve, Steve please-”
“Bucky, baby,” Steve said, still looking at you and you did your best to stare back, to hold his gaze. “Be a good boy for me and make her come, she wants to be your good girl.” 
Fire burst through every nerve and your back arched to the ceiling, your mouth opened in a silent scream, and Bucky still did not stop. “That’s it, good girl, there’s a good girl- Fuck,” Steve breathed. Waves and waves of sensations crashed against you, pulling you under, with every brush of Bucky’s fingers and tongue and every suck of his lips. He followed you as you writhed on the bed, drawing out every last second of your climax. 
Bucky finally pulled back from between your thighs for breath, his chest heaving while your slick covered his lips and chin. The impish grin that split his face made you twitch and whine breathlessly, though it didn’t deter him from launching up onto the bed to claim your lips in a heated kiss. 
“Baby,” Steve rushed, pulling Bucky off you and ignoring his grunt of protest. “Lie back, baby, I want your dick in my mouth.”
The promise made Bucky move almost comically quick and he rested his back against the bed head, thighs spread. “Catch your breath, honey,” Bucky whispered as Steve moved to settle between Bucky’s thighs. “We’re not done with you.”
You watched in daze as Steve pulled Bucky’s boxers down, and you revelled in the groan of pleasure that escaped Bucky as Steve swallowed him to the hilt with no preamble. “Stevie, fuck,” Bucky gasped, fisting Steve’s blond hair and holding him in place. “‘M not gonna last long, baby, fuck.”
A rush of energy pulsed through you and you got to your knees, wobbling only slightly. Bucky watched you through hooded eyes, reaching a hand out and you took it, falling against his side and pulling him into a heated kiss – swallowing his moans and cries. You hissed against his lips as his hand wandered down your back to cup and grope at the globes of your ass – his hands rough but warm. 
Bucky’s hips jerked up violently and he cried out, his stomach flexing and you watched in awe as Steve worked faster. “Baby, ‘m gonna come, don’t you dare stop- Fuck!”
“Bucky,” you simpered and his gaze snapped to you – his once bright eyes blackened and eclipsed, so fucking far gone, you mused silently. “Come for me, handsome, c’mon.”
The loud shout that echoed off the walls made you grin dazedly, triumphant at wrecking the man before you like he did you. You watched as Bucky twitched and moaned, writhing weakly against Steve’s incessant sucking, his cheeks still hollowed. “Stevie- please, I can’t,” Bucky gasped, sagging in relief when Steve finally pulled off, grinning that same wicked smile. 
That same smile he turned on you. “My turn.”
“Wha-” You tried, though your attempt at being coherent was marred by the fact Bucky had manhandled you into his lap, locking you in place by trapping your arms by your sides and forcing your legs open and keeping them there with his feet. The heat billowing from Bucky burned against your skin, and you wriggled, whining from the feel of his still hard cock resting against your lower back.
“Shh, honey,” Bucky cooed, resting his chin against your shoulder. Despite the rush you found your breathing slowing at his soothing tone. “I’ve gotchu, and Stevie’s gonna fuck you so good you won’t remember your own fuckin’ name, how ‘bout that?”
“Fuck,” you croaked, shivering in his hold. You could feel your cunt clench around nothing and you began to pant, as desperate to get air as you were to finally be filled with Steve’s cock. 
“She’s so pretty like this, Buck, fuckin’ hell,” Steve rambled, rooting through a bedside draw before pulling free a foil packet. “Touch her for me.”
“Oh-” You shuddered, your legs jerking against Bucky’s hold as his hand wandered down your stomach.
“Be good for me, honey, my sweet doll, huh?” Bucky breathed and you whimpered. The feel of his fingers trailing so close caused goosebumps to rise in the wake of his fingers, right until they settled between your folds and circled your clit. 
“That’s it, baby,” Steve breathed, stopping his rush to just watch. “Speed it up, I think she can come once more– what d’you think, sweetheart?”
“I can’t-”
“You can,” Bucky replied. “Stevie wants to watch you come undone again, and like the good girl you are-” As he spoke, his fingers picked up their speed and you heaved for breath against the onslaught of sensation. “-You’re gonna put on a show for ‘im, aren’t you?”
“Ye-Yeah, ah! I am, I- oh,” you gasped, and with your arms trapped you could only scramble to hold Bucky’s hips, the pillows, the sheets – something, anything to ground yourself. 
“Come for me, sweetheart,” Steve called, though he sounded underwater – muffled and so far away. “Let go, let go for us.”
You screamed to the ceiling, shaking violently through your second climax that cleaved you like a whip, and Bucky was the only thing holding you together. 
“Fuck, if she looks as pretty as she does without our cocks filling her, Stevie,” Bucky mumbled into your hair, soothing the aftershocks with gentle kisses against your temple. “Imagine how she’d look while you’re gonna fuck her.”
Steve groaned loudly in response. “Move, Buck, I need-”
You whined as Bucky slowly lowered you down his front so your hips were canted forward, and your shoulders rested against his middle, just above his stomach. “There you go, doll, easy,” he soothed, pulling your slumped head back against his chest. “You with us, honey?”
“Yeah,” you said, your voice hoarse, but you grinned dopily up at them. “Don’ stop, more-”
They laughed heartily – the rumbling in Bucky’s chest soothing something deep in your mind. It was hard to form any string of thought, coherent or not. 
“You’re just so fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, and you whined, chasing his lips. “No, I wanna watch you.”
If Bucky hadn’t kept hold of you, you could have sworn you had started to ascend – the stretch of Steve’s cock burned, the pain exactly what you had wanted, and you moaned loudly. “That’s it, honey,” Bucky cooed, moving a hand to squeeze your breast. “Takin’ Stevie so well, fuck.”
“Oh, god,” Steve groaned, bottoming out in your cunt and stilling. The small twitches against your walls made you whimper, though you grinned wickedly up at him, watching his bowed head until he met your gaze. “Sweetheart, what are- Shit!”
You chuckled weakly and you felt Bucky move behind you, his lips nipping at the side of your neck. “You tryin’ to make him come, huh, kitten?”
The name pulled a moan from your lips and Steve gasped, your cunt squeezing him like a vice – the once steady rhythm you had pulsing around him thrown out. 
“Do that again, Buck,” Steve breathed. “She’s fuckin’ squeezing me.”
“Aw,” Bucky cooed, and you groaned when Steve started to move – far too fucking slowly. “You want Stevie to fuck you senseless? You want Steve to squirm?”
“Uh-huh,” you replied quietly. 
“She’s too fucked out to form words, baby,” Bucky said to Steve, his tone biting and just the perfect amount of mockery. “I want you to fuck her– fuck her just how you want, go on.”
“Not funny, Buck,” Steve gritted out before he thrusted hard enough to jolt you up Bucky’s chest. It was like you weren’t there – a toy for them to use to rile one another up, and you fucking loved it. 
“Oh, it is,” Bucky continued, shifting slightly so he could attack the other side of your neck. Your whimpers and moans were completely ignored while Steve thrusted shallowly. “You better fuck our girl senseless, baby, or I’ll have to do it myself. You don’t want that do you? You want her pussy all to yourself, you don’t want to share, do you?”
The words were a catalyst to something – the cogs of Steve’s mind finally clicking into place to reveal the wolfish greed he had harboured from the beginning. His thrusts turned brutal and every rock of his hips punched a moan from your lungs, the quickfire and brutality of each thrust driving you up Bucky’s chest. 
“Please-” You gasped, scrabbling to grab hold of something and Bucky’s hip was the only thing you could find purchase on. “Please, oh, fucking- Stevie!”
“That’s it, kitten, scream for him,” Bucky purred before grabbing the back of Steve’s neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss, throwing off his rhythm. You whined loudly and Bucky pulled back, chuckling darkly. “Fuck her, Stevie, make her come.”
A low growl shook Steve’s chest, and it rattled your last sense of control. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rambled, attaching his lips to your neck, the opposite side of where Bucky was marking you with his teeth and tongue. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”
You clamped down tighter on his cock and your moans grew in pitch, but Steve didn’t falter. “She’s close, Stevie, good boy,” Bucky purred. Steve only moaned, shifting his knees so he could fuck you harder. You could feel Bucky’s hand moving down your stomach and a loud static filled your ears. “You wanna come for him, don’t you, kitten? You wanna be a good girl for us?”
Words failed you. Your mouth opened and closed uselessly as you felt Bucky reach your hip, though he didn’t stop. A full body shudder tore through your limbs and you keened, curling inwards as Bucky’s fingers found your much too sensitive clit with his fingers – all through Bucky’s deft touches, Steve didn’t stop his thrusts, if anything, they got harder, faster, as he chased his release.
“Come for us, honey,” Bucky whispered, his breath hot on the shell of your ear. Steve nodded desperately and whined as the start of your climax trapped him, your cunt sucking him in and not allowing him to leave. “Come for us, kitten- Good girl! Oh, lookatchu! Fuck, that’s a girl, good girl-”
You were drowning in pleasure, you couldn’t breathe – couldn’t feel anything but the deadly throes and sensations of Steve’s cock grinding against that spot and the feeling of Bucky’s breath, hot on your neck. 
Slowly, you came to laying on your side, pressed between two bodies. 
“There she is– hey, sweetheart,” Steve whispered in your ear. Somehow, he was holding you to his chest and Bucky was laying facing you, his eyes opening quickly at Steve’s words. 
“Stevie fucked you a bit too good, honey,” Bucky chuckled, cupping your jaw and sidling closer so he could kiss your forehead. “Are you alright?” As he spoke, Steve rubbed one hand up and down your side as you shivered, squeezing you close with the other. 
“‘M fine,” you said. “Wha’ happened?”
“You blacked out, doll,” Bucky explained. “It was only for a little while.”
“Awesome,” you whispered, and Steve and Bucky laughed. “Are you guys okay?”
“Fuckin’ fantastic,” Steve said – you could hear the grin in his words, and Bucky nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. “We can talk serious shit later, alright? We wanna hold you a lil’ longer.”
“I would love that,” you hummed happily and snuggled into Steve’s arms, smiling as Bucky moved even closer. 
One thing was for sure, today for sure cemented the fact that you had made the right decision – now all you had to do was buckle in for the ride.
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⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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ALPHABET BOY- S.G ROGERS
Pairing: Brothers Best Friend! Steve x Innocent! Fem! Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: you despise steve and his constant teasing with you- the younger sister of his best friend bucky barnes. little do you know that teasing is flirting, and it comes in handy when you’re trapped at a costume party with no way home. 
Warnings: SMUT, fingering, daddy kink, petnames, slight breeding kink, praise kink, swearing, size kink (steve is like 6′5), dry humping, slight degradation kink, lots of teasing, alcohol and drugs mentioned 
“i'm not a little kid now, watch me get big now- spell my name on the fridge now with all your alphabet toys.... you won the spelling bee now, but are you smarter than me now? you're the prince of the playground little alphabet boy” - alphabet boy, melanie martinez 
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You were sick of him. 
Sick, sick, sick. 
He plagued your brain, consuming you whole like some flesh-eating maggot. The thought of him was enough to send shivers down your back, make your stomach curl in on itself like rotten milk. 
Steve scared you. 
He scared you in a way you didn’t even know was possible, in a way that was rooted deep in your core. The embarrassment you got whenever he was around sent you spiraling. 
You were the shy, timid and innocent little sister to Bucky, though you weren't so little, he and his friends always thought of you that way. 
I’m not a little kid! You’d often whine to him as he teased you, times never changing. Steve was Bucky's best friend, a brother to him if you will. Always lurking around, always popping up in places you'd least expect him. 
He was the character that was always slouched on the couch when you got home, acting as if it were his house, and you were the guest. You might as well be, with the way he teased you. 
Always making your cheeks heat whenever he mocked you, called you names, picked on you for your cutesy, little pink outfits. It made your toes curl in their socks, your hands balling into little fists as if you were fighting the urge to swing at him. 
He’s being mean to me again Bucky! You’d often call from your bedroom as Steve towered over you, leaning against your bedroom door frame- eyeing you up like you were the star dish on the menu. 
Let him! He’d call back, making Steve’s smirk grow even wider. 
It was torture, being around him. Any comments you shot back to him ended up backfiring almost immediately. 
You were smaller, dumber, younger- didn’t you know better? 
No, you wanted to snap back. No, I don’t know any better. Because I’m stubborn and he’s being a tease. 
Steve would build you up like building blocks, just to bring you back down again. Yet you refused to be away from him for too long. Yes the thoughts made you feel sick, tummy starting to ache as you thought of his cool, stern gaze, that cocky smile and biceps as large as your head.
 It made your thighs clamp, palms turn clammy when you thought of the happy trail that lingered down his abs whenever he’d stretch and yawn while him and Bucky were watching the game, knowing you were watching from behind your little hiding spot. 
Damn him. Damn him and his mocking, pretentious ways. Damn him for always winning you back over, with little sweets and treats and the odd compliment, or attention he knew you so desperately craved.
 It was obvious, how drawn to him you were, like a lost puppy. Though you tried to fight it, you were always rewarded with a snarky comment. 
You’re so dumb. So dumb, such a baby. 
You could never win, when it came to Steve. He was the golden child in everyone’s eyes, always doing the right thing, always working so hard and succeeding! You were just trying your best, getting the soft, sad smile along with it. 
They didn’t see how Steve treated you. They didn’t notice the sly looks he gave you, knowing he had beat you at every hand he dealt. 
He was the prince of the playground. You were just a pawn for him, something to direct his mocking, sarcastic ways towards. Though you refused to cry in front of him, knowing that would irk his comments even more.
 I’m just teasing you rabbit. Don’t be so sensitive. Was his form of an apology. And you ate it up every single time, licking the plate and utensils before seconds.
 It was cat and mouse between the two of you, always pulling each other's leg. Or hair, in his case. The sexual attraction you felt towards him was undeniable, nonetheless. You were drawn to him and his charming ways, the facade he put on for others. 
How could no one see him? The real him? 
The Steve who always trailed his hand up your leg to pinch your thigh tightly when you were forced to sit next to him, the Steve who always looked at you as if you were his next meal. 
He was an angel to the world, but his halo was anything but bright. You thought of him now, in your own set of angel wings- costume party in full swing. It was late, the hour growing long and you wanted nothing more than to stumble home. 
Even if that meant taking yourself. 
The alcohol was buzzing in your system, the bottle drowning you way past your limit. You were such a sucker for peer pressure, wanting nothing more than to please others. 
So you drank, and drank, and drank until you were a babbling mess, the world seeming to bend over backwards, flipping each and every way as you adjusted your little wings and took another sip of some fruity cooler. 
It was so saccharine you swore your teeth started to tingle as it swished around your mouth. 
You needed to leave. 
It was too stuffy and hot, bodies all packed together as the wallpaper glistened from the low lights, and the smoke started to cover everything like a shield. Nobody listened to you, your friends long gone as you attempted to beg for an exit, an escape route for you to stumble down. 
Everyone had morphed into another being- you weren't sure who was who anymore, with all the masks and makeup. It was not your scene. Not at all. 
Somehow, after a few loud, floor-shaking songs later you had managed to stumble over to a hallway, slowly guiding yourself past the couples who were dry-humping eachother against the picture frames, kissing with so much teeth and tongues it was like they were having a battle on who would gasp for air first.
The red solo cup had slipped from your nibble fingers, clattering against the hardwood and splashing red up against the walls. 
It looked like blood. 
The cool air hit you like a train on a track as you stepped out into the dark abyss, large forest looming in front of you as the porch light flickered. The shadows of the trees looked like clawed fingers against the grass, the gust of wind causing goosebumps to spread up your arms. 
You needed to get home. 
There was a trail that connected this property to yours, though it was long and windy. The smart thing to do was to call Bucky, explain to him the situation. 
I’m drunk. Like really drunk. And I’m scared and I need someone to hold just for a few minutes while they take me home. It was a mistake and I’m so sorry, I really am. 
But he wouldn't hold you. He probably wouldn’t even pick you up, saying it was your fault for getting in this situation, so you should find a way out of it.
 No, no that was intrusive thoughts talking. You couldn't tell the difference anymore. Everything in your brain was swimming, the world stretching and warping like a fushigi ball. 
Bucky would pick you up. Of course he would. But you knew the consequences that would come with it. Which is exactly why you put another foot forward, pushing yourself off of the old, weathered siding. 
You would be treated like a child, mocked at for being so careless. Well, he could shove that mocking up his ass. You were tired of him and his friends always being so mean, always bullying you because you were seen as careless. 
You didn’t need any company, but it didn’t mean you were opposed to it. A shadow, one even more intimidating than the towering trees appeared, lingering behind you. It was stretched, shoulders wide as you peered down at it. 
“You shouldn't be out here all alone.” the voice murmured, low and deep as you turned. Your eyes met with a strangers, mask covering his face- deep looming pulled eyes staring at you. 
Ghostface. 
You had seen that movie with Steve and Bucky, though you had never been a fan of scary movies. “It’s not safe for little girls like you, you know.” he drawled on.
 It should've scared you, his sudden interest in you. He had appeared out of nowhere, quite literally from nowhere, keening to the likes of you. But it made you feel special, knowing this mystery man was talking to you.
 “I’m not alone, you’re out here.” you giggled, stumbling forward towards his 6’5 frame. You felt a weird desire to be in this mans arms- though there was no doubt about it that it was the booze that rushed to your head. 
“You should be scared angel. Not stumbling towards a stranger, all doe eyed like that.” 
“But you seem nice!” you chirped out, forgetting your original mission to make way back to your home. You liked this man. You liked Ghostface. 
“ Mhm you’re lucky I am. I take pity on little girls like you.” His arm extended, tight black henley sleeves rolled up to his bulging biceps. Mystery mans hand was warm to the touch, the brush of skin against your own sent heat licking down your spine. It was then you noted the tattoo that was all too familiar, the twist and curves of black ink that bent around his wrist like a snake. 
Steve. 
“Steve?” The hand that shrugged off the mask confirmed your suspicions, long blonde hair curling at the nape of his neck, blue eyes sparked with mischief. 
“You really shouldn't be so vulnerable, ya know. What if I actually was a stranger? It’s dangerous.”
 The scolding began. You were too dazed out to fight back, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. 
“I’m sorry, I really am. Just- just don’t tell B-bucky!” you hiccupped, praying he would help you. This was the first time you had needed Steve. Had wanted him to stay, and actually care. 
He clucked his tongue. “I won’t. But we need to get you home, yea? Silly girl. Silly, silly girl.”
 “I’m sorry.” was all you could mutter, stumbling as he squeezed your hand as a sign of reassurance, fighting off the chill of the night air.
 “Don’t be stupid. You weren't thinking of going in the woods alone, were you? There really must not be a brain in there after all.” he mocked, taunting you as he guided you onwards, towards the creaking trees, their limbs dangling down like claws that would scratch your skin lean off, leave you bare and vulnerable. 
You took a deep breath, the fresh air heightening your senses as a twig snapped from under his weight, a soft tune leaving his lips as he whistled. You shuddered, leaning into him more, his larger hand in yours squeezing your digits a little tighter.
 “You scared angel?”
 “N-no. Never scared.” you lied, staring straight ahead, though you couldn't see much besides his flashlight beam aimed at the little path in front of you. 
“Not even when I spooked you that one time when you were with that pink bunny stuffie in your bedroom? What were you doing with it anyways?” 
Humping it to the thought of you, you wanted to confess but kept your lips shut. 
“Having a tea party.” you grumbled, to which he laughed. It brought you a sense of comfort in the moment- that laugh. It wasn't mean, or directed. It was just easy, carefree, and light as it bounced off an invisible sound barrier.
 He wasn't laughing at you. He was laughing with you.
 “Cute. You’re so cute bunny. You know that?” 
“No.” you giggled, cheeks heating as hot as the sun, whether it was from the booze or his affections, you didn’t know. It seemed like time was stretched and warped, the path ending as soon as it started when you were with Steve. 
You felt weirdly protected with him near, the warmth of his body drawing you closer, the scent of his cologne making your head spin as he murmured to you. It was hard to comprehend what he was saying, your mind in a different place as you stumbled into your backyard. 
The lights were off, the structure appearing empty and hollow as you stared up at it. “Looks like Bucko wouldn't of came anyways sweetheart.” he sighed, noting his car wasn't in the driveway, the doors appearing locked.
 “Does that mean I’m alone?” you asked, anxiety creeping into your voice. You didn’t think you could be alone tonight. You were too anxious and on edge to deal with the warped shadows, bending and following you like a contortionist. 
And if you puked, who said you’d be able to get off the bathroom tiles? 
“I’m staying with you angel. You’re too stupid to think for yourself right now.” 
You fought your urge to stick your tongue out at him, but you knew he was right. He teased you for having next to no thoughts in your brain all the time, but this time it was actually true.
 “Let’s go.” he tugged at your arm, causing u to stumble after him as he made his way towards the back door. His legs were so much longer than yours, stride extensive and full of authority. Steve knew exactly where to go, digging the key out of the hiding spot and unlocking the door. 
You didn’t even know how he knew where it was. You surely didn’t remember.
 The light flickered on, humming softly as it illuminated the little breakfast nook. “Steve why do you hate me?” you blurted out, hiccuping as you bent down to unbuckle your shoes, kicking them off by the door.
 His face contorted into a look of confusion as he peered down at you. “I don’t hate you bunny. Far from it.” 
You just nodded, taking his word for it. He was stumped by your level of compliance, as you normally would fight or bicker with him whenever he made a claim. But you were quiet, humming a little song as you trudged towards the stairs, hands out in front of you to guide you instead of turning on the rest of the lights.
 “Stev-” you gasped as suddenly your body was lifted from the ground, swung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Your head spun as you stared at the world from a much taller height, body squirming as he moved.
 A hand smacked your thigh that poked from under your little dress, making you yelp. “Stop squirmin girl. You're not walking up these stairs.” he grumbled, making the trudge up the rickety wooden stairs, hand rubbing your thigh as you felt your panties start to dampen. 
His hand was so warm, so nice as it stroked your skin, even when it stung. 
“I’m fully- fully able to walk up.” you slurred and he chuckled.
 “Mhm I don’t think you should think for yourself right now baby bunny.” he teased, and you giggled. Your bedroom door opened with a creak, and he walked you past the pink walls, past the frilly whites and endless stuffies as he plopped you down on your bed. 
You laid back with a sigh, tracing the soft sheets with your fingers, sinking into them as you closed your eyes. Steve felt himself getting harder and harder the longer he gazed at you, so soft and delicate- like a little doll. 
You were so in your element, basking in the comfort of the silk and cotton, just savoring how fuzzy you felt in the moment. 
“Can you help me with my costume Stevie?” you whispered, eyes fluttering open to smile at him. He thought he was dreaming. He needed to be pinched. 
But you needed his help, craved for his touch again as you lay there- almost helpless. You swung your leg up, toes curling against his abdomen in your socks, stretching your arms over your head.
 “You’re such a tease, you know that?” he murmured, tugging at each sock, peeing them away from your skin to reveal your bubblegum pink nail polish. 
“Mhmm so tired though Stevie. I can’t do anything.” 
“Oh I know.” he smirked, hands slowly inching their way up towards your thighs, fingers walking their way across your skin. 
“Just need your help, you gotta take care of me.” you giggled, back arching as he tugged at your dress, pulling off the rest of your costume. Your breasts were bared, shining in the pale moonlight as the air whooshed past his teeth. 
No bra.
 “Fuck. Fuck fuck.” he murmured as you giggled softly, batting your eyelashes at him as if you were a schoolgirl. “What’s the matter Stevie?” you asked, reaching for him, nails softly scraping against his biceps. 
“You’re so fucking adorable angel. Jesus Christ.” 
“Yeah?” you smiled, grabbing his hand, guiding it down towards your lacey underwear that was now soaked, letting his fingers circle your button through the fabric. 
You moaned, back arching against the sheets as he smiled, that wicked grin that drove you wild. You couldn't help yourself. You were on cloud nine, head in the heavens from the way he looked at you, the way he touched you. 
Hands slipped up to grope your breasts, massaging them, squeezing each nipple as your mouth parted into an O shape, moaning his name. His hands slipped under your undergarments, fingers coaxing you open as your legs fell limp- purely under his control. Submissive and willing for him. 
It drove him wild, the sweet, innocent little sister of his best friend- the person he had craved for years was now under him looking like a doll.
 “Gotta open you up first princess. Don’t wanna hurt your sweet, little hole hm?” he whispered, thumb circling your clit, so sensitive under his flesh, aching for him. 
You were just so needy, practically begging him- words slurring as you humped his hand, mindlessly reaching for one of your stuffies to cling to as your body rode him. 
“Mhmm so… daddy..” you gasped out, emitting a low growl from his lips. You moaned into the fur of the animal, to which he quickly ripped away. 
“Don’t hide your sweet little noises for daddy baby, don’t you know better? We’re all alone here, just the two of us. But even if we weren't, wouldn't you want everyone to know how good daddy's fingers feel stuffed in your cunnie?” 
You nodded viciously, gasping for breath as heat licked down your spine, burning bright in your core as he rocked into you deeper. It was taken away in an instant, a startled gasp leaving your lips in disappointment before you saw his hands fumbling with his belt, muttering under his breath. 
“Fuck I’m sorry angel but I can't take this anymore.I need- I need to be inside you I’m-” 
You whimpered as he tugged down his bottoms as quickly as the two of you had entered this tangled affair, barely having a second to process what was happening before he was in you, and he was in you deep. 
Plunging straight to the hilt, hands clawing at his biceps as you moaned, cried his name so sweetly he almost combusted right then and there.
 “I’m so sorry angel I just- been waiting too long, FUCK you’re so goddamn tight n wet..” he murmured, head drooping low as he breathed you in, watched the way your juices coated his cock as he slipped out just slightly, only to plunge in even harder. 
You clung to him so nicely, as if you were just made for him and only him, delicate and dainty. It was so easy to make you drool, so easy to watch you melt deeper into the mattress as he used you as his own personal fleshlight, muscles tensing and flexing as they adjusted you to the exact positions he wanted you in. 
“You’re so good to me Stevie. So, so good, filling me…” you sighed, eyes hazy and glazed over as you peered up at him, admiring the man you hated with a passion, but the one you also craved like a drug. 
He was so careful with you, guiding your tipsy body home, but so rough and eager with you now, as if he was feral.
 “Stevie?” you asked softly, face distorting slightly the longer he looked at you, confusion now smeared across your face like a kids finger painting. “Stevie?” 
You were muffled- trapped underwater. Murky. 
His eyes flew open with a start, meeting yours as he blinked the fuzz away. His hand was so close to your body, just mere inches away from the place he had been touching you in his dream. 
“Mhm?” he asked, noting he had somehow ended shirtless in your bed, the girly bedsheets wrapped around his low midriff, and you fought not to stare down at his happy trail. 
“You were dreaming I think. Mumbling something.” you slurred, head smacking down back onto the pillow as he stared at you, your eyes now closed once more. 
He didn’t fully remember what had happened. He had teased you, felt you up, and helped you home. But now he was in your bed, despite the fact the two of you bickered constantly, and nothing had happened. 
Your little skimpy pj’s were still on. His boxers were on. Though he wished more than anything they were off, that everything was off and he could feel you the way he had ten seconds earlier. 
He watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you fell back into a drunken slumber, hand slipping over to cup your warm cheek before he could stop himself. 
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mrsbarnesblog · 5 months
Text
sandcastles
masterlist ko-fi ao3
CEO! Husband! Bucky Barnes x Wife! Reader
Summary: Bucky is always working overtime, but when his best girls really need him, he leaves everything behind just to make you happy.
Words count: 1.6k
Warnings: modern setting, CEO Bucky, they have a daughter, fluff, real love
Author’s note: this one was inspired by Sebastian’s appearance in Paris. he really gave me a heart attack with that look❤️‍🔥
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Bucky Barnes was a busy man. Running a multi-million-dollar company wasn’t the easiest thing, but something that he cared more about than this job was his family. His beautiful wife and daughter.
You always loved and appreciated the attention, support, and endless love that your husband gave, even when you just started dating eight years ago. As soon as you met, it took some time for both of you to finally admit your feelings, but when you got together, it was perfect. You’ve never felt that way in your life before. When you were younger, everyone told you that you wouldn’t be able to find a person because of your high standards, but when you started dating James Buchanan Barnes, you knew that it was forever.
A beautiful, respectful, and caring man who would do anything for you.
For the past two months, he has been more distant. His company was getting bigger; he had too many meetings, and too many new things required his whole attention. You understood it; of course you did. But you would be lying if you said that you didn’t miss him. Your daughter felt it too. She was totally daddy’s girl, so being away from him for too long upset her, even though she was trying to be tough and careless, just like her dad when he was working.
You talked to her about her dad’s work, and she was a smart girl for a 3-year-old. She understood that he has a lot to do right now and that he still loves her more than anything in this world.
Today he returned home only after 2 am., you heard that he went to take a shower in a different room, probably not to wake you up. But you were too eager to spend as much time with him as possible, even if it was when he was falling asleep.
Bucky came into the room quietly. As soon as he got under the blanket, his warm and strong arms wrapped around you. He pulled you closer to him, burying his nose into your neck.
"I’m sorry, doll. Again." He took a deep breath, enjoying your scent, which he missed so much. "I love you."
"That’s okay, baby." You moved even closer to him, burying your fingers into his wet hair, and left a kiss on his temple. "I love you too. Now take some rest."
You hadn't even started to fall asleep when you heard a weird noise outside your bedroom, and then the door slightly opened.
"Daddy? Mommy?" A little voice came through the silence of the room. "Are you asleep?" Your daughter suddenly sobbed, and you and Bucky immediately sat on the bed, reaching for the nightstand lamps.
"Hey, angel, what happened? Come here." Bucky’s voice was very soft and gentle, as always when he talked to your daughter. She came closer to the bed, and Bucky picked her up, putting her on his lap. She was tightly holding her favorite white wolf, which you gifted Bucky as a joke because of his nickname at work. Your daughter's eyes were a little bit red, her hair messy, and her cheeks wet with tears. You moved closer to them, gently rubbing her face.
"What’s going on? You saw a bad dream?" You quietly asked, but she just shook her head.
"I— I—" She was obviously too upset to put her words together, so Bucky started to rub her back, whispering a quiet "sh-h".
"I— miss you, daddy." As soon as these words left her mouth, you and Bucky froze, and she started crying even harder. "I don’t s-see you, and me and mom—mommy are always alone."
Bucky looked you in the eyes, and you saw that his own were full of tears. The last thing he wanted to do was upset either of you. He felt that his heart was ripping apart. You made your daughter cry, you idiot. Your wife deserves better.
You just put your hand on his shoulder and squeezed, already knowing where his mind went. He always wanted to give his family everything, and the fact that he put work above his two favorite people in the world made him sick.
"Angel, hey, baby, look at me." Bucky turned back to your daughter, grabbing her little face with his hands and gently wiping away her tears. "I promise that the day after tomorrow we will go somewhere. Only mommy, you, and me, okay?"
"But—but you’re working."
"I know, angel. But I didn't want to make you feel lonely or to stay away for too long from your mom." He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth to leave a kiss. "We will go wherever you want to. Maybe stay there for the week. You would like that?" He smiled at your daughter, and she happily giggled, wrapping herself around Bucky’s neck. "I love you. Both of you. You two are my whole life, and I'll do anything to make you happy."
You softly smiled at him, leaning in to leave a quick kiss on his lips.
Your daughter put away her white wolf and opened her other arm, wanting you to join her and Bucky in a hug.
That night she stayed in your bed because she almost passed out in Bucky’s arms but still held onto you both too tightly. The three of you happily curled under the blanket, with your daughter in between. Bucky knew that it was time for him to finally make the right decision. To choose his family.
As Bucky promised, one day later your little family was on a vacation where no one could disturb you. He left Steve, Sam, and Natasha, his closest and oldest friends, in charge of everything, canceled all the meetings, and took you and your daughter on the private jet that brought you here. One of the most beautiful places you’ve ever been.
It was quiet. No strangers, no annoying noise, no worries. Just the three of you on the beach with a perfect little house and warm, crystal-clear water.
You were wearing a light flowy dress, and Bucky, finally free from those annoying suits, chose trousers with a white tank top and shirt on top of it.
You two were sitting under the sunset on a blanket with food and a bottle of wine, while your daughter was playing near the water with sand. It was such an amazing evening; just everything was perfect, and as you were watching your smiling husband, you felt that you had fallen in love once again.
"You keep staring at me, doll, You ‘kay?" He finally turned his face to you, and you couldn't hold your wide smile, which he immediately returned.
"I’m okay. It’s just… everything is perfect here—the beach, the house, you two here." You covered your eyes with your hand because of the setting sun. "You know, you’ve been here for a couple of hours, but you look much better. Your skin is glowing, you’re happy, and, god, that hair bun looks really hot." Bucky’s smile grew wilder because of your words.
He grabbed you in bridal style and set you across his lap, wrapping his hands around your waist. You slightly screamed, not being ready for such movements, but then happily melted into your husband's touch.
"So you think that I look hot?" A cheesy grin crossed his face, and you playfully rolled your eyes.
"Do you think I would’ve married you if I thought otherwise, James?" You arched an eyebrow at him. Your hands found the perfect place under Bucky’s blue shirt by themselves. God, it's been too long since you spent good time together alone.
"What do you think about the idea that when we get home, we send our daughter to visit her amazing grandparents, so we could be completely alone for a couple of days?" He said it as if he was reading your mind, so you just silently nodded. "Doll, you’re too beautiful for this damn world; I can’t even understand how I was able to be far away from you for that long. I missed you so much, baby." Bucky’s hands slipped lower on your hips, while his lips were leaving sweet kisses on the side of your neck.
"Not here, Buck; we’re not alone, remember?" You nodded back at your daughter, who was honestly more interested in building sandcastles.
"Of course. Just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for my absence. I got so involved in work that I didn’t even notice that you too were hurt. I’ve never wanted to do that. I’m sorry. And I love you. So fucking much." Bucky connected your foreheads and put his right hand on your cheek.
"Don’t be sorry. I know that you want better for us and that you want to do everything right. It’s okay to make mistakes sometimes. You know, you are such a great dad because your daughter’s tears made you leave everything and spend time with us. And I’m forever thankful for this." You smiled, holding his stubbled face in your hands. "I love you, James."
You two connected with a kiss. It wasn’t too rough or desperate. It was just pure love and adoration for one another. Bucky was slowly moving his lips, feeling the need for your taste, your smell, and your touch. Your little bubble didn’t last too long, though, not after your daughter finally wanted your attention.
"Mommy! Daddy!" You pulled away from the kiss, looking back at your daughter, who was now all in the sand. "Do you want to help me build a castle?"
You looked at Bucky, who had the same smile on his face.
"Of course, angel. What do you need from us?"
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