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#James buchanan barnes
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Like an animal | Bucky Barnes
Pairing -> Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader
Summary -> When you don’t want to hear when Bucky says something and you get hit by sex pollen he makes sure you know that you should listen to Bucky when he says something.
Wordcount -> 2.371
Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sex pollen, slight thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, rough sex, hate sex, using of the word slut
Request -> Heyyy. I saw your Bucky smut menu and I couldn’t resist lol. Could you do 1. Either enemies to lover or sex pollen (maybe both idk im not picky) 2. Protective Bucky (I wouldn’t oppose to him being slightly jealous too lmao) 3. Oral f receiving and hate sex. And for the petnames I cannot stand anything like pet, kitten, bunny, puppy. No shame to ppl who like them, im just more simple. I'm fine with stuff like babe/baby, doll, honey, sweetheart. I hope this wasn’t too picky lol😭❤️🤞🏾 @blckbarbiedoll
A/N -> Thank you so much for the request. I hope you like it. I tried to include everything you asked for so yeah just read and decide if you like it or not I guess haha. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
Events -> Bucky Barnes Smut Menu
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Bucky groans when you just hit the Hydra Agent before he runs away and you follow him. The brown-haired man told your brother he would take care of you, but you’re always so stubborn around him and need to prove that you can do things on your own. Of course he knows, but being the protective man he usually is, he is even stronger when he is with you. Not only because of your brother, who is also his best friend, but also because he likes you. Way more than he admits, he really likes you since the day you started to work together, and the two are always around each other. But a part of him hates you for being so stubborn; at least he hates you in a way that he wants to fuck your attitude out of you and teach you some manners.
He tried to convince you to help, but you were just shaking your head and pushed him away before you punched the other agent. Bucky was standing there, rolling his eyes, but he knows he shouldn’t make you angry; otherwise, he would get some punches as well.
When you run after the agent, he follows you with a groan. Looking around the corner to be sure there is no other agent. When Bucky walks around the corner, the floor is empty, and he can only hear some shouts and some noises, which tell him that you’re beating the guy up.
Meanwhile, you’re in a room with the agent; he just ran into it, and in your headspace of wanting to punch him, you follow him. You don’t really look around you; you’re not noticing the suspicious things around you. The only thing you’re focused on is the Hydra agent opposite you.
“You’re such a naive little girl, aren’t you?”
“Shut up. You don’t know me, and a little girl couldn’t punch you like that,” you shout and walk closer while you lift your hand.
He laughs darkly, waiting until you’re just a few steps away. Then he pushes a button, and a loud noise echoes through the room. You immediately cover your ears with your hands, trying to make the noise quieter. The agent pushes you to the side; you fall and crash against a table before you fall to the ground and make yourself smaller. You press your legs to your chest, your head resting on your knees, while you see the man pushing another button. Then he leaves the room, the noise gets quieter, and you inhale loudly, relaxing your body while there is a complete silence in the room.
You slowly sit up, looking around, but the Hydra agent isn’t in the room anymore. The doors are closed, and you inspect the things around you. There are a lot of containers, big containers. They are filled with some kind of colorful gas, and you wonder what kind of experiments they are doing there.
“Y/N? Are you there?” Bucky shouts from outside the room, trying to open the door.
“Bucky, did you catch him?”
“No?”
“Then do it!” you shout annoyedly back and roll your eyes.
“No! We need to get you out of that lab; there are chemicals.”
You sigh, annoyed. Bucky crashes with his shoulder against the door. While you hear him groaning, you stand up and walk over to one of the containers.
“BUCKY!”
“What? I try to open the door, oke!”
“Yeah, hurry up. It-It’s cooking,” you shout back, taking a step back when the liquid connects itself with the gas.
“What?”
Before you can answer, it bangs, and a big cloud of liquid and gas is over the container, slowly getting bigger like the fog during a rainy and cold morning.
“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bucky asks, and you laugh sarcastically.
“I didn’t do anything. Here are some liquids and gases, and it just- I don’t know. It’s green! Is that normal? Is it supposed to be green?”
“I don’t know. I’m not Bruce.”
“Bucky! James! When he is green, it’s not good, so get me out of that room.”
The fog coats the room, and even when you try not to inhale it, you feel it slowly rushing through your veins, and everything starts to tingle. You feel like you get needy in a way you never were before, and you feel your pants dripping, soaking your panties immediately. You moan softly, your hand slides between your legs, and you shiver at the touch of your fingers. You rub the fabric of your panties and pants against your wet folds, feeling a bit of relief when you move faster against your fingers. A moment later, the door crashes, and you remove your hand. With wide eyes, you look at Bucky, who just broke the door and is looking around.
“Get out of there, doll,” he demands, holding his hand out for you to grab it.
“B-Bucky. I-“
He makes you shut up when he holds your hand and pulls you against him. His firm, muscular chest presses against you, and you groan softly. His leg is pressed against your cunt, and you start to grind yourself against it, making Bucky look at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“What do you think you’re doing there?”
“Please, those- Bucky- Sex pollen,” you mumble, your head falling against his chest while you move your hips slowly against his thigh.
He gasps, his hands immediately around your waist to push you back slightly. Your head falls back, and your eyes are filled with pure desire and lust when you look at him. You bit onto your lip, trying to push your hips against him, feeling the friction you had when you moved against his leg, but he holds you still.
“Please, Bucky.”
“You should learn some manners, shouldn’t you? Running after a Hydra agent and being in one room with him. He could have done filthy things to you. Do you like that? Do you like being used by a man?” Bucky groans; his eyes darken when he feels his dick harden in his pants.
As much as he hates the thought of you being used as a fuck toy by someone else, he loves the thought of using you as his own little doll. Where he can let out his jealousy and his frustration that you just can’t listen during missions and that you always talk back.
“Answer me!" his tone is rough, his fingers digging into your waist, and you moan softly.
“Yes.”
Bucky groans and leans closer to you. Then he presses his lips onto yours and pulls you closer, his hard dick pressing against your stomach, and you whimper. His hands roam over your body, finding their way up your sides, squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt and bra before he slides them back down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and your lips never leave his while he carries you to the next counter he can find.
With one movement, he shoves everything off the surface and places you on top of it. He takes a step back, still spreading your legs apart while his hands glide along your thighs. Bucky grips the waistband of your pants, tugging at them. You move your body up to help him so he can take off your pants and panties. And he does; he shoves both down your legs and smirks when he sees your already dripping pussy. You moan; the cold air hitting your wetness makes you even more desperate, and you want to move a hand between your folds, but Bucky stops you, gripping your hand and pushing it away.
“Don’t dare to touch yourself. You need to learn manners, and I will teach you them.”
Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, his hands sliding along your thighs before he grips them and holds them apart. Then he kisses a trail along your stomach until he reaches your pussy. His tongue slides through your folds softly, and the warmth of it lets you shiver. Bucky lets go, smiling when he sees your hands gripping the surface to ground yourself.
“Good girl,” he praises.
With a short kiss on your stomach, he guides his tongue back to your folds, sucking softly at your clit and circling it with his tongue before he lowers his movements to your entrance. Your moans and whimpers encourage him to continue to give you the pleasure you want him to give you with his tongue.
“Don’t cum before I allow you to cum.”
You nod, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at you. His hot breath against your wet pussy, coated in your arousal and his saliva. Bucky works his tongue slowly inside of you, taking his time while you push yourself more against him, trying to get more of his tongue. More of him inside of you.
“Bucky-“
“I teach you manners. So we go by my pace,” he explains, kissing your clit.
“You’re a tease, aren’t you, Barnes?”
“Such a big mouth for such a little girl, huh?”
He nibbles softly at your clit, sliding his tongue through your folds again before he kisses every inch of your private part. Bucky loves the way you whimper to get more of the pleasure he gives you. He brings you close to your orgasm, but whenever you want to cum, he just kisses your skin softly. He just needs to push his tongue inside of you, and you are almost over the edge, your walls clenching around him, and he imagines his dick inside your wet, warm hole. The way you’re going to squeeze it when you cum and the way you will moan his name when he thrusts his dick deep inside of you.
Bucky gets up, making you whine. He smirks, his hands still sliding over your thighs before he removes them. You want to protest, but you don’t when you hear him unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down. His hard cock springs free, the tip leaking with pre-cum. He is huge, and you smirk softly when you see the veins running along his shaft. Bucky grabs his cock, stroking it a few times while he rubs his thumb over his tip and smears the pre-cum all over his dick. Then he slaps his dick against your clit, making you gasp.
“You’re so needy,” he says, his cock resting between your wet folds.
Then he likes his dick up with his entrance and pushes himself inch by inch inside of you. He stretches you open like no one ever did before, and your walls are already squeezing his dick. Bucky tries his best not to cum immediately; the warmth and tightness of your pussy make him go crazy. He pushes himself inside of you completely. You moan loudly, your hands find their way to his shoulder, and you grip them. Then you pull him closer, and Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, kissing you roughly while he gives you a moment to adjust to his dick.
Bucky pulls out of you, thrusting inside of you even harder. He is rough, fucking your attitude out of you and the way you talk back. He slams his dick inside of you, forcing it completely between your tight walls. You almost scream at the harshness of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your ass while he fucks you like a wild animal. But the two of you need it - the roughness, the slight pain inside of you, which turns slowly into pleasure. A kind of pleasure you never felt before, one only he can give you while he fucks you like a slut, a toy that just wants to be used by Bucky.
“I hate your fucking attitude,” he says, pulling out to slam his dick harder inside of you.
You scream, your fingers digging into the skin of his back. Your back arches, and you move against him, wanting him deeper.
“I hate the way you always need to talk back.”
He uses his metal hand to grip your throat. Bucky just holds his hand there; he doesn’t squeeze your neck.
“Fucking. Little. Slut,” he groans between his thrusts.
“Bucky- I’m-“
“Shhh. But even when you annoy me with that, I love you, doll,” he admits while he fucks you like an animal.
You throw your head back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives you. You feel every vein of his cock; he hits your sweet spot whenever he thrusts inside of you.
“I wanna cum, please. I- Bucky, I love you too. Can I cum? Please?”
He chuckles, bringing his other hand to your clit and rubbing circles on it. At the same harsh pace, he pushes his high lengths inside of you.
“Cum, doll. All over my dick.”
And you do as he tells you. While you scream his name in pleasure, you feel the know in your stomach snapping, and you cum all over his dick. Bucky watches in awe at you while you cum, then he looks down where his dick is connected with you. His cock is covered in your cum, and he groans. When you squeeze him even more, he doesn’t need long until he cums inside of you, painting your walls with his seeds while he slows his movements. You both breathe heavily, your bodies covered in sweat, and Bucky lets himself fall down on top of you. Your hands slide from his shoulders into his soft brown hair, and you play with them.
“Do you mean that, doll?”
“What?”
“That you love me too.”
“Yeah, I love you, Buck.”
He smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. His plumb lips perfectly fit against yours.
“Let’s clean us, and then we go back to the compound. I will make sweet love to you there. How does it sound? And then a movie night.”
“But I decide the movie,” you say.
The two of you laugh before he kisses you again and slowly pulls out of you. Bucky helps you to clean yourself before he cleans himself between a lot more kisses.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
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Taglist: @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry
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Daughter’s First Words » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Husband/Dad!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Mom!Reader with daughter Leah
Summary: Bucky’s and Y/N’s daughter says her first words.
Warnings: Fluff, language, nothing but cuteness, hugs and kisses, use of nicknames/pet names
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.
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“Say mama.” You say to yours and Bucky’s 7 month old daughter Leah.
Leah made a babbling and reached for your necklace. You groaned, dropping your head against the back of the couch. Your daughter giggled at your frustration. Since Leah is inching closer to her first birthday, you and Bucky have been trying to get her to talk.
“Please, sweetie. It’s not that hard.” You pleaded softly. “Say mama.” You say.
Leah made another babbling noise which quickly turned into an excited squeal when Bucky walked in the living room.
“What are my favorite girls doing?” Bucky asks, sitting down on the couch next to you and Leah.
“I’m trying to get Leah to say mama.” You tell him.
“I see your problem.” He starts. “You’re saying it wrong it’s pronounced dada.” He says jokingly.
“No, I believe I’m saying it right. Say mama, Leah.” You say.
“Say dada.” Bucky says.
Leah looks from you to her daddy. Her lower lip quivered, feeling overwhelmed. Her eyes teared up.
“Don’t cry, baby.” You cooed softly, gently rocking her in your arms.
Leah sniffles and looked at her daddy, reaching for him and doing grabby hands. Bucky took her from your arms and laid her against his chest, rubbing her back to soothe her. Soon her eyes began to droop as sleepiness took over her.
“You tired, princess?” Bucky asks, looking down at her.
She made a babbling noise like she was saying yes.
“Let’s get you to bed.” He says, carefully standing up with Leah securely in his arms.
Bucky changed Leah’s diaper and put her pajamas on. He read her a bedtime story while carefully rocking her to sleep. You walked in Leah’s nursery at the end of the story. You walked over to your husband and daughter, giving Leah a kiss on the top of her head. Bucky gave her a kiss before putting her in her crib. You two quietly left her nursery and closed the door.
“We’ll try more tomorrow, doll.” Bucky wraps his arms around you and kisses your lips. “Let’s go to bed.” He says.
The next morning, you and Bucky woke up to the sound of Leah crying. You were getting up, but Bucky stopped you by grabbing your arm.
“I got her, doll.” He says softly.
You laid back down and Bucky got out of bed to get Leah. Leah stopped crying and her eyes instantly lit up when she seen her daddy. She reached up for him, doing grabby hands to get him to pick her up.
“There’s my little princess.” Bucky cooes, picking her up. “Good morning.” He says softly.
Leah made a babbling noise and reached for his dog tags, her little hand grasping the chain and held it tightly.
“I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you, princess?” He playfully poking her belly, making her giggle. “Let’s get my princess something to eat.” He says.
Bucky went to the kitchen and made a bottle for Leah. He went back to her nursery and fed her while gently rocking her in the rocking chair that’s in her nursery. You woke up an hour later and reached an arm out for your husband, only to find out that he wasn’t in bed with you. You rubbed your eyes and got out of bed. You heard talking coming from Leah’s nursery so you went in there.
“Say dada.” Bucky says to Leah.
Leah just babbled and held onto the chain of his dog tags. Soon her attention was on you. She let out an excited squeal when she seen you.
“There’s mama.” Bucky cooes, pointing at you.
You approached them and gave both of them a kiss on the cheek.
“Is daddy trying to get you to talk?” You asked her.
She babbled, reaching for your -Bucky’s- t-shirt and tugging on it, wanting you to hold her. You carefully took her from Bucky.
“Do you want to help mommy make breakfast?” You asked her.
Leah let out an excited squeal and clapped her little hands together, making you and Bucky smile at her cuteness. You made your way downstairs to the kitchen with Bucky following behind you. You put Leah in her high chair so she can watch you make breakfast. You were getting everything you needed to make breakfast when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.
“What are you making for breakfast?” Bucky asks curiously.
“Pancakes.” You answered.
“I love your pancakes, but I love you and Leah more.” He says, kissing your cheek.
Meanwhile, something on the kitchen counter caught Leah’s attention. It was a bowl of plums. She wanted one and tried to reach for it, but she was too far away from it. She huffed and tried to come up with a way to get the plums. The only thing that came to her little mind is what you and Bucky have been trying to teach her all week. She decided to give it a try.
“P-P-P-” Leah starts, babbling a little.
You and Bucky quickly turned your attention to Leah.
“Oh my god! I think she’s going to say papa!” Bucky says excitedly.
You and Bucky approached Leah as she was trying to say her first word.
“Come on, sweetheart. You can do it. Say papa.” He cooes at her.
“P-P-Plum.” She finally says.
Your jaw dropped while Bucky was having a proud dad moment.
“Do you want a plum?” He asks her.
“Plum.” She says again.
Bucky got a plum and cut it up for Leah. He put the plate in front of her. She curiously looked at the cut up plum on the plate before picking up a piece and put it in her mouth. Since she didn’t have many teeth, she just sucked the juice off of it. A smile grew on her face and she clapped her little hands together, trying to tell you guys that she likes it.
“Do you like the plum?” Bucky asks her.
“Plum!” Leah says happily.
You were still in shock, but happy that your daughter said her first word. You were expecting her to say mama or dada, not plum.
“You said your first word, sweetie!” You tell her.
Leah smiles up at you and her daddy with plum juice on her face. Bucky got a towel and gently wiped it off. She curiously grasped one of Bucky’s vibranium fingers.
“D-D-Dada.” Leah slowly pronounces. “Dada!” She says more clearly.
“That’s right! I’m dada. You’re so smart, princess.” Bucky cooes. “Can you tell me who that is?” He asks, pointing at you.
“M-M-Mama.” She pronounces. “Mama!” She says.
“That’s right! I’m mama.” You cooed at her.
You went back to making breakfast a few minutes later with a smile on your face while Bucky was feeding Leah plums and tried to get her to say Steve. She couldn’t pronounce his name very well so she said Steeb. He was trying to teach her how to say Sam, but she ended up saying Ham instead.
“Told you she’d say dada before mama.” Bucky says with a grin on his face, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.
“Shut up.” You jokingly mumbled loud enough for him to hear.
Bucky gently turned your head and gave you a kiss on your lips. The kiss was short lived when Leah shouted.
“Icky!” Leah shouts, covering her eyes with her little hands.
You two couldn’t help but laugh at how cute she’s being. Bucky went back to Leah, seeing that she ate most of her plum.
“You want another plum, princess?” Bucky asks.
“Plum, dada!” She says.
“Looks like we’re having plums for breakfast.” He says, looking at you with a silly grin on his face.
“She’s so your daughter, Bucky.” You say, playfully shaking your head at your husband.
Bucky just continued to grin as he got another plum for Leah.
“Mama?” Leah says.
“Yes, sweetie?” You asked.
“Plum?” She asks, giving you her last piece of plum.
“Thank you, baby.” You smiled and ate the plum.
“Dada doesn’t get a plum?” Bucky asks, playfully pouting.
Leah grabbed a piece of plum and handed it to her daddy.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He smiles and ate the plum.
After Leah was done eating her plum, Bucky gently cleaned the plum juice off her face. He picked her up from her high chair and took her to the living room to watch TV while you cleaned up from breakfast. When you were done, you joined your husband and daughter in the living room. Leah was seconds from falling asleep.
“Someone is sleepy.” You say to Leah.
Leah snuggled herself against Bucky, her little hand holding tightly onto the chain of his dog tags. You sat down next to Bucky, cuddling yourself against his side. Bucky wrapped his right arm around you protectively while his metal arm had a protective hold on Leah.
“I love you, girls.” Bucky says softly.
“We love you too, Buck.” You say with a smile.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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buckys-metal-arm · 1 day
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Exploring Bucky’s Body
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Bucky x GN!Reader
Description: When Bucky feels self-conscious about his scars, you take a moment to remind him how perfect he truly is
Warnings: Nonsexual nudity, hurt/comfort, Angst and fluff, insecurities, Sad!Self-Conscious!Bucky, pet names (Sweet Boy, Sweetheart, ), no y/n used, no pronouns used beyond "you"
((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))
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Bucky has been off all day.
No one else seems to see it, he’s gotten good at hiding it from most people
But you know him better than that, you can see how deep in his own head he is
The distant look in his eyes, the fact he’s even quieter than usual, the way he tenses when anyone touches him, even you
He assures you that he’s fine when you ask, that nothing’s wrong, but you know him
You decide not to bring it up again until the two of you are laying down to go to bed that night
You notice he still has a t-shirt on as he gets ready to settle in, which is strange because he almost always sleeps without a shirt on, adoring the feeling of your skin against his own
So you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing a little kiss to the crook of his neck
“What’s on your mind, Sweet Boy?” you whisper. Bucky didn't look at you, “you know you can talk to me, Honey. Please, what’s wrong?”
He shrugs, avoiding your gaze
You sigh, and go to reach under his shirt to rub his back when you hear a sharp inhale
“Buck? Are you okay?”
“Don’t,” he whispers, “don’t touch them. Please.”
“Don’t touch what?”
“The scars.”
Realization hits you instantly
Bucky gets in his own head, so nervous about how others see him. How you see him.
“Bucky…” you move in front of him, sitting in his lap and taking his face in both hands, “you know I love your body…”
“Don’t act like you don’t hate them,” he murmurs, eyes still refusing to meet yours, “you don’t have to lie–”
“Ssshhh…” you wrap your arms around his neck, guiding his head to your shoulder and running your fingers through his hair, “I’m not lying. I love every part of you.”
He still won’t meet your gaze, so you decide to try something
Sliding out of his lap you softly ask, “Sweetheart, can you lay down for me?”
He cocks his head, finally looking at you, eyes full of confusion
“Just trust me, okay?”
Finally, he does as you ask and settles in bed, resting his back against the headboard
You slip off your shirt
You slip your shorts off as well, fully naked in front of him.
He’s surprised, to say the least
“Doll?”
“Would it be alright if I was on top of you?” you ask.
He nods, still confused as you straddle his hips
Your hand finds the waistband of his boxers
“Can I take these off?” you ask.
His eyes flit around, biting his lip as his body goes tense
You can see the conflict in his blue eyes, desperately wanting to be against you but also so nervous about being seen
Finally, nervously, he nods, and quietly says “yes.”
you slip them off, and his underwear is on the floor
Your hand runs along the hem of his shirt, “can I take this off?”
He pulls back, terrified to let you see him
“I promise, I won’t hurt you, Baby Boy,” you whisper, “just want to show you how perfect you are.”
He’s nervous, you can tell, but he slowly slides it off, you assisting him
Once he’s fully bare, you begin to gently run your hands along his torso
“D-Doll,” he gasps out, eyes fluttering, “don’t…”
“Shhhh, just lemme touch you,” you lean forward and kiss his cheek, “just lemme admire my Incredible boyfriend.”
Your fingertips draw shudders from his body and gasps from his lips, shocked by your gentle touch
Nothing sexual, just you dragging your fingers along every mark, every scar, every tense and taut muscle, every dip of his ribs
Exploring his body with the softest, most gentle feather-light touches
“How?” Bucky whispers, his voice full of emotion. You look up at him and see tears forming in his eyes, “how could you like touching them?”
You reach out and cup his cheek, wiping the tears with your thumb.
“Because you had to be so strong and so brave for so long, Baby,” you lean down and kiss a slash along his ribcage, causing him to gasp, “your scars reflect that. They show how hard you fought, and that you survived. You made it through, and stayed the same kind, gentle, loving man that Steve told me stories about when I first joined the team. You’re a warrior, Bucky. And these show that. They’re a part of you, and I think they’re so beautiful for that.”
He doesn’t respond, but looks up at you with eyes filled with love as you lean forward
"You're so beautiful, Bucky. Every inch of you is perfect," you whisper, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear, "I love you."
He holds your face with both hands, pulling you in for a soft kiss, tender and full of love.
“I love you too.”
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scoonsalicious · 16 hours
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Unwanted: Chapter 23, Undressed - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions: of drug use, drug dealing, stripping, prostitution, drug overdose, seizures, organized crime.
Word Count: 1.6k
Previously On...: After using your quick wit and computer skills to get you both out of a sticky situation, Tony offered you a job, and a beautiful friendship was born.
A/N: And we are ON THE MISSION! Welcome to Atlantic City, besties!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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The Wiggle Room was nothing like Beantown Burlesque, of that you were certain. For a stripclub, Beantown had still managed to cater to a relatively upscale clientele, demanding exorbitant cover charges, selling overpriced drinks, and charging a premium for lap and private dances– hell, Tony Stark had gone there. And they never, ever, encouraged you to take on any ‘extra’ services for customers. Sure, clients asked, but girls were fired for accepting, and if a client wouldn’t take your ‘no’ for an answer, Beantown’s bouncers were more than happy to send them flying out the door on their asses.
You quickly learned that The Wiggle Room played by an entirely different set of rules when a customer asked if he could snort a line of coke off of your ass during your first shift. Everyone, it seemed, was high on some kind of drug, customers and coquettes alike. It made it surprisingly easy to get information out of people without rousing too much suspicion onto yourself.
Within the first two weeks, you and Sam were able to uncover that most, if not all, of the missing women you were investigating had either been, or tried out to be, dancers, bought drugs, or prostituted themselves out of the club. You were definitely in the epicenter of the disappearances. You positively had the where, but you were still far from discovering the why and the who.
You and Sam had set up a temporary caseboard in the dining nook of the apartment you were using as your safehouse. The two of you had already been good friends, but playing a couple at the club and sharing tight accommodations had intensified the power of your bond, and as you sat in front of the caseboard eating your Chinese takeout together, you couldn’t help but rib one another.
“Lavender definitely has a thing for you,” you pointed your chopsticks at him, referring to one of the club’s older dancers, who, at 45, had taken a shine to the Falcon from the moment he’d taken his position as member of the club’s security team.
“Well, can you blame her?” Sam said, slurping up the noodles of his lo mein. “Hard to resist a good piece of dark chocolate, and Ole Sammy’s a fine box of Godiva.”
You wrinkled up your face. “Okkkay,” you said, “ignoring the fact that there’s so much gross in that statement that I don’t even know where to begin, should I give her your number, then?”
Sam nearly choked on his food. “Absolutely not!” he coughed. “She’s got six kids!”
“Wow, Samuel,” you said, pretending to be offended on Lavender’s behalf, “I didn’t realize you were prejudiced against single moms. Does Sarah, know that fascinating tidbit about you?”
“Nuh-uh, Baby Girl. Don’t you go tryin’ to put words in my mouth. I got nothin’ against single moms– they’re the backbone of this country– but Lavender’s also got six baby daddies she doesn’t know how to quit. I ain’t lookin’ for that kinda drama in my love life, thank you very much.”
You took a bite of your chicken & broccoli. “Fair point,” you conceded. “I’ll allow it.” Sam tipped his head to you in his thanks. 
You let your attention drift back to the board. In addition to photos of the missing women, you’d also managed to populate it with a combination of ID photos and mugshots of the club’s employees and management. As you’d learned the identities of your coworkers, you’d been able to piece the hierarchy of the organization together, but you only got as far as the club’s owner, Vladimir Kozlov. When you’d sent his name and some covert photos back to the Tower, you hadn’t been surprised to receive word back from Natasha that Kozlov had, at one point, been a low-level thug in the Russian mob. What you hadn’t yet been able to decipher, however, was how he kept the club afloat. According to your research, the Wiggle Room was hemorrhaging money, its expenses far surpassing its recorded income, yet Kozlov dressed himself in the finest European suits and drove a seemingly never-ending rotation of sports cars that would rival Tony’s. 
You and Sam had both come to the shared conclusion that Kozlov didn’t have the brain cells to run a successful, let alone lucrative, criminal operation on his own, and therefore, there must be silent partners involved in the club that you’d not yet been able to identify. The drugs that were sold out of the club could account for some of its income, but not nearly enough. 
“I’ve got an idea,” you said, turning back to Sam.
“Why do I feel like someone just walked over my grave when you said that?” he asked you with an exaggerated shiver.
You cocked your head. “Probably because it’s a terrible one.” Nibbling on your lower lip, you debated whether or not to tell him. He was going to hate it, but you couldn’t think of a better way to get closer to Kozlov’s inner circle. “I think I should start buying drugs from Kozlov’s men.”
The look Sam gave you was withering. “Pocket,” he warned, “that’s an actual crime.”
“I’m not going to do them, Sam!” You put down your carton of rice. “I just need to make them think I am. Kozlov keeps the girls that buy from him close– he likes how they come to rely on him. I think it gets his rocks off to have them be dependent on him. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he lets things slip in front of them because they’re too strung out to pay attention.”
Sam seemed to consider your proposal. “I don’t like it, Baby Girl,” he said. “It sounds dangerous. What if he tries to take advantage of you?”
You held up the silver bangle that served as your distress signal. “Then I call for the calvary,” you said. “I won’t actually be high, so I’ll still have my wits about me.”
“So, you think you know enough about gettin’ high to fake it in front of a bunch of drug dealers?” Sam asked, clearly thinking you were overestimating your acting abilities. 
You puffed a breath out of the corner of your mouth. “Yeeeeah. So, here’s the thing… I might have spent a good chunk of my teen years on a variety of illegal substances.”
Sam’s eyebrows went comically high. “Come again for Dark Chocolate?”
How to be truthful yet maintain your sense of dignity here? “Everyone at the Tower knows how my childhood was rough, yeah? That my parents were shit? And that’s the reason I don’t have anything to do with them?” Sam nodded. This much of your past, at least, was common knowledge, and you were more or less keen to leave it that way. “Alright, so, part of that shit was that my mom and her boyfriend were drug addicts. Mom preferred meth and booze, but the boyfriend was less discriminate. He’d do anything if it got him high enough. When he needed me to… let’s say ‘behave,’ he’d give me something, whatever he had on hand. Weed, MDMA, coke, benzos, Special K, opiates. Really didn’t matter to him. The drugs made me easier to control. So, I know how to act like I’m high, because I’ve been high. A lot.”
The look in Sam’s eyes morphed from disappointment at your idea to horror at your revelation. “Fuck. Baby Girl, I had no idea.” You couldn’t meet his gaze; unlike your past as a stripper, this was something you were deeply ashamed of.
“It’s fine, Sam,” you told him, picking your food carton up again just to give you something to focus on. “It was a long time ago.
“What made you stop?” he asked, no judgment, just genuine sincerity in his question.
“Same thing that saved the rest of my sorry ass,” you shrugged, playing with the flaps of the paper carton. “Tony. By that point, though, it was mostly just Adderall to focus on school work and so I could stay awake to take more shifts at the club, and weed for when the Adderall wouldn’t let me sleep.”
“One time, I took too much Adderall to cram for a final, and I had a seizure. Tony had to take me to the hospital, and he was furious– I’ve honestly never seen him so mad. Trust me when I say it made his fight with Cap look like a playground spat. I thought for sure he was going to wash his hands of me. I wouldn't have blamed him.”
The memory of it played through your mind, the sheer disappointment in Tony’s eyes as the doctors told him what they’d found in your system. 
“But, the thing was, Tony blamed himself, said he’d put too much pressure on me. Kept saying he was turning into his father, and he couldn’t have that. So, instead of tossing me out on my ass like he should have, he got me help.”
Sam’s mouth hung open. “I’m sorry, but I think we know two different Tony Starks. This altruism does not jive with the man I work with.”
You smiled and shrugged your shoulders again. “Not my fault he likes me better than you, Samuel. I am a lot cuter.”
“Debatable,” Sam replied before taking a swig of his beer. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “If you don’t think it’s gonna be too much of a temptation for you,” he said after a pause, “I think the drug-buying might work. We can give it a shot, at least.”
You sipped your iced tea. “Won’t be a problem, Sammy. The girl who constantly did that stuff is gone, and she’s not coming back.”
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redwing4life · 2 days
Text
For you
CHAPTER 3 | ASHES TO EMBERS
PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbor!Bucky x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: Mention of night terrors, Bucky being upset, fluff, flashbacks containing the death of a child, plenty of unholy thoughts, half naked bucky, dirty talk???, sexual tension, please let me know if i’ve missed something!!!
SUMMARY: You find Bucky at his most vulnerable when he’s sent home from work at 2 in the morning. While doing everything you can to comfort him, you realise you’re falling for him.
WORD COUNT: 4926
PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER
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“James, you home?” You call into the firefighter’s apartment, peeking your head around his front door.
It’s your day off and you want ice cream, and for some reason instead of running to the store, you chose to break into your neighbour’s home to ransack his freezer.
“James?” You shout again, double checking he’s at work as you close the door behind you and make your way to the kitchen.
Alpine greets you with a meow from above the fridge, seemingly unbothered by the sudden intruder. You crouch down to pull open the bottom door, met with a cool rush of air that leaves your arm hairs standing tall.
“Come on, I know you have some…” You mumble to yourself while you rustle through the shelves.
“Bingo!” Your fingers brush ice off the top of the tub before pulling it out of the freezer. You reach beside you to close the door and push yourself to your feet, turning to leave when you finally notice your half naked neighbour.
You jump a mile, throwing the ice cream tub in the midst of your fright. “Fuck me, James!!” You all but scream, right hand now clutched to your chest.
Bucky laughs from his stomach, an raising an amused brow at the sight before him.
“I’ve been trying to for months, doll.” He smirks. “What are you doing in my apartment?”
It’s fair to say your brain is lagging a bit, too focused on the drops of water running down his very bare chest to pay notice to his confession.
Clad in just a white towel, wrapped dangerously low on his hips, your neighbour bends down to pick up the strewn tub of ice cream. You catch the way his free hand clutches the knot of the towel in an attempt to keep it from falling, though you find yourself indifferent to the idea.
Indifferent, my ass. You’re practically begging the gods for a gust of wind. Wait did he just say he’s been trying to fu-
“You stealing my ice cream, sweets?” His teasing voice breaks you out of your rather un-holy thoughts.
“James- I- I thought you were working?”
“Ah-Ah-Ah,” Bucky tuts, stepping closer to you, “you didn’t answer my question, doll. I said are stealing from me?”
Your throat runs dry and you shake your head quickly, “No- I- I was just-“
“Just what, peach? Hm?”
He’s so fucking close to you that your brain has completely checked out; your eyes fall to his broad chest, still dripping from the shower.
“Cat got ya tongue, doll?” Bucky teases you, raising a hand to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear, skin ablaze in the path of his touch.
You drag your gaze to meet his, breath hitching at his lust-blown pupils.
“I thought you were at work.” You whisper, clutching onto that as your excuse for being caught.
A hand wraps around your waist and tugs you closer, forcing you to brace yourself against Bucky’s taut torso. With one hand on his chest and the other at the top of his abs, your heart races in your ears as the firefighter leans in closer.
“And I thought you were a good girl.” His voice is low, sultry even, against your ear, “I guess we were both wrong.”
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, drawing a groan from Bucky’s throat, the vibrations palpable beneath your finger tips.
“I am good, Bucky.” You hate how submissive you sound, but Bucky adores it. All it took was a tub of ice cream and a white towel to have you like putty in his hands.
You gasp when he bites down on your earlobe, feeling his warm tongue reach out to soothe the sting. The sensation runs straight to your pussy, your panties catching your arousal as you look up at your neighbour.
“Good girls don’t call me ‘Bucky’.” His nose trails along your cheek until his mouth is hovering over yours. “Wanna try that again, doll?”
You hold his fiery gaze as you reply, desperate to appease him. “I’m sorry, James. I can be good.”
Eyes falling to his mouth when he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, you whimper at the sight.
“Fuck, doll.” His lips nearly brush over yours as he speaks. “Lucky for you, I like it when my girl’s got a bad side…”
You’re still watching his pink lips when he takes your hand in his. He revels in the way his hand swallows yours before leading it down to the towel’s knot on his hip.
“Go on, sweets.” Bucky ushers your hand between his skin and the towel, slowly pushing the material until you feel it fall away. With one hand, he tilts your chin up so you look him in the eye, gently leading the other closer to his already hard length.
“Show me how bad you can be.”
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You wake up with a startle, body bolting upright in the swarm of your sheets. It takes a few seconds for your heart to stop racing and your ears to stop ringing; you look around you, no longer in Bucky’s kitchen and no longer just moments away from kissing him.
Not just from kissing him though, were you?
As you come to your senses, you notice frustrated grunts coming from the hallway, surely the cause of your sudden wake up. With a frown, you slip out of bed and step into your slippers.
You walk to your living room, flicking on a light as you go, ears honing in on the sounds from the other side of the door.
“For fuck’s sake!” You hear, recognising the voice as your neighbours, the same one you were just dreaming about.
“Stupid piece of shit-“ He grumbles, accompanied by clanging metal.
Quickly unlocking your door, you glance down the hall to see Bucky knelt before his own, desperately trying to push his key into the lock.
“Bucky?”
Your voice passes straight through him, as though you said nothing at all. The metal of his keys clang against the lock, doing everything it can not to go in the key hole. You close your door behind you and slip your own keys into the pocket of your checked pyjama pants.
“Bucky?” You repeat, louder this time. How foolish of you to think your words would settle upon his ears this time around; one may think he’s deaf with the way your calls roll off him like water off a duck’s back.
Tentatively, your feet carry you forward, barely heard over the grunts falling from your neighbours lips.
“James?”
He stills. The new silence hits you like a brick but you’re not sure that you prefer it. No more than a couple of feet of distance and shit ton of apprehension sits between you both.
Bucky wills himself to stay still, though his hands refuse to comply. They tremble in front of him, his grip on the keys turning his knuckles white. Your gaze burns into him yet he can’t find the strength to look at you. To admit that he needs you.
Without a sound, you close the gap and lower yourself to your knees. You don’t touch him yet, you think he needs the space.
He wants you to touch him, he hates the space. If only his vocal cords would listen to his brain and ask.
Your features are blurred in his peripheral, slowly coming into focus when you stretch a hand out in front of him. The pads of your fingers barely brush over his knuckles, they trace the veins leading down to his wrist, leaving a trail of fire behind them. Not a dangerous fire, Bucky thinks; the kind that sits crackling in a fireplace in winter while you read a book, huddled into the couch.
He’s a slave to your touch, his grasp relaxing as you run your fingers over his, urging him to open his palm. His fist peels open like a lily blooming, the silver key a stark contrast to the white tension of his hand.
“That’s it, love.” You whisper, unknowingly causing Bucky to bite back a sob.
Love. The tenderness of your tone is unlike anything he’s heard before and he relishes in it, letting it wrap around him like a blanket.
Plucking the keys from his hand, you gently reach up to push them into the key hole. Bucky’s eyes fall shut in a futile attempt to hold back his tears, tears that you’re ready to swipe away if he needs. You realise in this moment that you’d do anything to ease his pain, a revelation that both terrifies you and makes more sense than anything else in your life.
The click of the door unlocking sounds and you pull the key out.
“Let’s get you out of this hallway, James.” You use his real name, now that you know it’s the most effective, and push yourself to your feet.
It’s of little practical use for you to offer Bucky a hand, yet you do it anyway. He takes it with haste, giving in to his primal need for physical touch.
His knees crack as he stands, a combination of years climbing fire escapes and the last ten minutes he’s spent on the ground fighting a key hole. Letting you push the door open, he keeps hold of your free hand and follows you into his own apartment like a lost puppy.
You string together small praises and lead him to his couch, pressing his shoulders slightly to get him to sit down. Once he eases down on the edge of the seat, your turn to close the door but find yourself being pulled back to Bucky.
“Don’t go,” He pleads, his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist; it’s not painful, but you feel the desperation bleeding into your skin. His eyes are strikingly blue and glistening with unshed tears, begging you to stay. Luckily for him, you would never leave his side when he needs you.
“I’m not going anywhere, Buck. Just gonna close the door and i’ll be right back.”
It dawns on him that he’s acting like a toddler, incapable of being left alone for even a second. He’s almost glad you’ve left to lock the door so you don’t see how his cheeks have burned crimson with shame. There’s so many thoughts swirling around his head that a dull ache is growing at the base of his neck.
Alpine saunters into the living area with sleepy eyes; she meets your gaze as you head back to Bucky, her eyes flitting between your worried stance and the stillness of her owner. She may only be a cat, but she knows when something is wrong. You offer her a sad smile. How do I help him, Alps? What does he need from me?
Releasing a slow breath, you return to your neighbour, crouching down in front of his place on the couch.
“Can I touch you?” You ask gently.
Words fail Bucky for the umpteenth time so he’s forced to nod instead. The warmth of your hands on his thighs is welcomed with a small sigh. His resolve to hold back is weakening with every rise and fall of your chest, his focus on your breathing being the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
You circle your fingers over his navy pants keeping your hands close to his knees. The last thing he needs is to think you’re making a pass at him.
“What happened, James?” Your brows pull together. “Your shift doesn’t finish till six.”
The lump in his throat swells, images of tonight’s events flashing before him like a broken film reel.
You watch his chin tremble as his memories torment him, waiting patiently for his response. You know it takes time for him to talk, but the silence is killing you. Lifting a hand from his left thigh, you reach up and brush the loose strands of chestnut hair away from his eyes.
You finally break the silence, “Bucky, darling, what happened?”
Something inside Bucky’s chest snaps and a sob tears through his whole body. He collapses into your hold, face finding safety in your neck. The wails wrack through him while his tears soak your night shirt and you quickly cradle his head.
“Oh, love, it’s okay.” You clench your eyes shut, trying to hold back your own tears. “I’ve got you.”
Though muffled by your shirt, his cries reverberate around the room. You find yourself pushing up to your feet, separating from the firefighter briefly so you can climb onto his lap. With a leg either side of his, kneeling against the cushion, you pull him near to you once more.
Those strong arms envelop you, bringing you impossibly closer; you wrap your own around his neck, the other holding his head to your chest.
Every sob breaks your heart as broken sentences fall from his lips, barely comprehensible but you pick up the few words you understand.
Fire. Boy. Trapped.
You whisper sweet nothings into his ear while you run your fingers through his hair, praying his body tires so he doesn’t have to endure this much longer. If it doesn’t, if he needs you to hold him till sunrise, then sunset, then sunrise again, you’ll do it. You won’t even lean back to take your slippers off, not unless he’s ready.
It’s funny how time works. How things can feel so quick yet so slow at the same time, with no regard for which you’d prefer. You have no idea how long Bucky has been weeping into your neck; you’ve lost count of how many times it’s seemed like he’d calmed, only for a heart wrenching sob to escape him and the process repeats all over again.
But at some point his wails became whimpers and his tears ran dry, only your shirt and his cheeks holding the remnants of his cries.
“I-“ Bucky’s voice is hoarse, forcing him to pull away from your grasp and clear his throat. “I’m sorry, doll, i’m so fucking sorry.”
You don’t even realise you’re shaking your head at him as he continues to apologise.
“I shouldn’t have made you deal with that-“
“Stop,“
“-you didn’t get a choice I just dumped it all-“
“James, stop!” Your sharp tone shuts him up immediately, a timid expression on his face. You reach behind you to grab his hands and pull them in between you. Your flatten your palms against his and watch his eyes fall to where you meet.
“I don’t know who or what made you feel like you have to apologise the moment you show your pain, but I wish I could slap them seven ways to Sunday.”
Warmth pools in your chest at the tiny upturn of Bucky’s lips.
“As long as you’ll let me, i’ll help you, no matter how long it takes.” You glance down at your tear soaked shirt. “Even if it means soggy shirts.”
Your neighbour groans, “Oh god, at least let me apologise for that.”
A relieved laugh rises from your stomach, glad to see a semblance of normal Bucky. “It’s fine, Buck, washers exist for a reason.”
Comfortable silence falls and you let your fingers pass through his, linking together perfectly. Alpine decides to finally make an appearance and jumps up onto the arm of the couch before stepping onto Bucky’s lap, nestling in the small gap between your bodies.
“Someone’s comfy.” The firefighter mumbles, quietly enjoying the comfort of his cat.
When he raises his head to look at you, he finds your kind eyes already on him.
“What do you need?” You ask, noting the unrest on his face.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to talk about it or do you need distracting?”
Bucky ponders for a moment. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it.”
You nod, “That’s okay. Distraction it is.”
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Feet tapping against the hardwood floor, you wait patiently for Bucky to leave the bathroom. Alpine is oblivious to your unrest, enjoying the head stretches you’ve been giving her for the past twenty minutes.
The firefighter gladly accepted your suggestion of a shower, knowing the hot water would relax him after tonight’s events. You’ve been setting up ready for him to return; two lamps now emit warm light from either end of the apartment while the show you and Bucky have been watching sits on pause. You even laid out his favourite blanket for him, though Alpine has commandeered it for now.
Bucky’s phone, meanwhile, has been buzzing constantly - whether it’s an incoming call or a text - the vibrations against the pine coffee table are beginning to drive you crazy.
Eventually, you decide to check who it is who’s desperate to get in touch with your neighbour. You grab the phone and flip it over gently, faced with several notifications from Steve. Your frown deepens as you skim over his messages, realising how worried the captain is over Bucky’s silence.
Hoping he won’t mind, you pick up Bucky’s phone and walk to the bathroom door before knocking against the wood. The shower turned off a few minutes ago and you were meaning to check on him anyway.
“Hey, Buck, everything okay?” You call into the side of the door. No response.
“James?” You ask again when you hear shuffling on the other side.
Still leaning in close to listen carefully, you raise your fist to knock once more, only for the door to suddenly swing open, revealing a rather disheveled and very shirtless Bucky.
Being as tall as he is, you’re eye level with his pecs, small beads of water resting against his lightly tanned skin; some race down to his abs and you follow their path as they journey through the valleys of his defined muscles.
Bucky looks down at you, adorned with an amused smirk, as he leans an arm above him against the door frame. Your frozen state and peach pink cheeks has him chuckling, glad to see you don’t find him ugly after this evening.
Flashbacks to your dream earlier in the night have you rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. Mere inches separate your bodies, the gap closing briefly each time you take a breath.
A deep blue towel is tied around his hips; it’s slipped just below his waist, the divots of his adonis’ belt screaming to be traced, to follow the happy trail right down to his-
“I’m alright, doll.” Bucky’s gruff voice greets your ears, though it takes you a moment to remember what’s happening. “Sorry, I was just finishing up. You alright? You’re looking a little flushed, sweets.”
No shit, Sherlock.
Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you raise your eyes to meet his. “I- uh- I’m g-good. I was just- um-“
Bucky grins, finding your stuttering cute, before glancing at his phone in your grasp.
“Let me guess, Steve’s been calling?”
You nod quickly. “A lot, yes. I was coming to ask what to do?”
“Would you mind calling him and explaining everything while I go get changed?”
“Yeah, of course.” Fighting to keep your eyes from trailing to his bare chest, you smile reassuringly, hoping you’ve not made a fool of yourself by ogling a man who was bawling his eyes out a half hour ago.
Awkward silence arrives and leaves you with a racing heart. It’s not everyday you see your dreams turn into reality. Well, it would only your dream becoming reality if Bucky were to grab you face and kiss you till your pussy is-
“Doll?”
Shit, you realise you’ve been staring at his pecs. “Yeah?”
“Mind letting me by so I can change?”
Somehow turning a deeper shade of red, you step aside to let Bucky and his shit-eating grin by. You drop your head down to ensure you don’t end up staring at his ass as he heads to his room.
Pull yourself together, Y/n.
You walk to the kitchen, opening Bucky’s phone on the way and dialling Steve’s number. It rings twice before an agitated voice plays from the speakers.
“Jesus, Buck, where have you been? I’ve-“
“Uh- hey, Steve. It’s Y/n.”
A beat of silence passes.
“Y/n?”
“Yeah, sorry, James asked me to call and explain that he’s had a rough night.” You wince at your own words. ‘Rough’ barely scratches the surface of what tonight has been.
“Shit…” The captain murmurs, and you hum in agreement. “Where- um- where is he now?”
You glance over your shoulder, “He’s just getting changed. It was- well, he’s really struggling, Steve, he was pretty shaken up.”
A small sigh sounds from the other side of the phone. “Yeah, we had a tough call and it triggered him so I sent him home early.”
You nod, despite knowing Steve can’t see you, and he continues.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help.”
You’re shaking your head now. “No no, Steve, it’s okay, i’m fine, really!” You lower your voice, “I mean, he scared me. I’ve never seen him like that before, i’m just worried for him.”
Eyes fluttering shut as you remember the fear that flooded your muscles when Bucky started crying, Steve replies with a somber tone, “Yeah, me too.”
“Hey,” he chirps, “i’ve already told him that he doesn’t have to come in tonight but he never listens to me. Could you try and convince him to stay home?”
Having already planned on asking him to consider taking a day off, you answer, “Yes, of course. But if he doesn’t listen to you then-“
“Trust me, Y/n” Steve interrupts you, “you’ve got better chance than I do, just let me know how it goes.”
“Will do. Thanks, Steve.”
“Thank you, Y/n. I’m glad he’s got someone who cares about him like we do.”
A small smile tugs at your lips. “Me too. Good night, Steve.”
“Night!”
You hang up the phone and spin on your heels at the sound of a door closing. Bucky stands just outside his bedroom door, now clad in grey sweatpants and a black t shirt, his hair still a little damp and ruffled from his attempt to dry it.
“Hey…” A small smile stretches across his lips, a far cry from the smirking tease you spoke to a few minutes ago.
“Hey, James.” You step closer. “Would you like a drink?”
“Im alright, thanks doll.”
“I got the TV set up if you wanna watch something? Take your mind off things?”
Bucky sighs constantly at the thought, nodding gently. “That sounds good.”
Settling down onto the couch, you let Alpine sit between you, leaving enough space that you’re not touching without being too far away from each other. The pair of you watch your show for a while, time bringing you closer together until you’re resting your head on Bucky’s shoulder. He runs his fingers up and down your right arm that’s lopped around his left, the tender strokes lulling you to sleep.
You battle to keep your eyes open, grateful that Bucky can’t see your face as you doze off every now and then. I mean, who can blame you when you’re being held so securely, your side pressed against his so close that you can feel his heartbeat?
You feel Bucky twitch beneath you, causing you to blink your eyes open, not realising you’d fallen asleep. Thankfully, Bucky didn’t notice either, and you watch as he stretches to the coffee table to press pause on the TV remote.
With no background noise, you hear your neighbours breath increase before he twists back to face you.
“I meant it earlier.” His voice pins you down and you sit up properly.
“Meant what, Buck?”
“That i’m sorry.” Those sharp blue eyes fall to his lap.
You shake your head for what feels like the thousandth time tonight, “James, please, you don’t need-“
“You were scared of me, doll.”
Cussing yourself mentally for not being quieter on your call with Steve, you scramble words together, desperate to fix the miscommunication.
“That’s not- That’s not what I meant, James.”
Bucky’s brow furrows deeper, head titling up but his eyes remain on his lap. “What else is it supposed to mean? I scared you, Y/n. Plain and simple.”
“I wasn’t scared of you, James.” You place a hand on his, hating the way he doesn’t turn his over to hold yours. “I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to help you, that I’d be useless at calming you down. It wasn’t you, I promise.”
“I- I was so scared that you were in so much pain, Buck, and- and I couldn’t do anything.”
A single tear falls onto his grey sweatpants just as he finally meets your gaze, eyes swarming with vulnerability. You feel his hand turn to press against your palm.
“You weren’t useless, Y/n.” He gestures to your surroundings. “I mean, all of this! You’ve done nothing but care for me since the moment you found me outside. This isn’t useless, doll. You’ve done so fucking much for me already and you don’t even know why I need you in the first place.”
A stray tear escapes you as you reach a hand up to cup his cheek. The scruff of his stubble tickles your skin, swiping a thumb over his cheek bone to catch his fallen tears.
“You don’t need to tell me a-“
“I want to.”
“Okay.” You nod and squeeze his hand. “But if you change your mind at any point, that’s okay too. I’m just here for you, James.”
Bucky doesn’t change his mind.
Once he gets over the initial nerves, his words flow like a broken faucet. Your heart fills with lead, sinking to your stomach as he tells you about that one fire that never leaves his mind. How he was only in his second year, still fresh faced and naïve, so confident in himself that he failed to find the boy trapped under a fallen beam. How he walked out of the house feeling so goddamn proud of himself for saving the little girl, only to find out the next day that her big brother was found dead in that same room.
It’s impossible to blink away your tears, as one falls, three others take its place until your cheeks are as damp as a shower wall. Your death grip on Bucky’s hand anchors him as he confesses his worst secret, the one that haunts his dreams until they fade into nightmares and then into terrors. You realise then that this is what he sees when you’re startled awake to his screams at night; while his physical body is trapped in unconsciousness, his mind it trapped in that house, staring at the little boy.
Words fail you as Bucky talks, so you focus on listening, on holding his hand and wiping away the few tears he has left. The need to reassure him burns in your chest as his words slow, eyes fluttering close when you bring his hand to your lips.
You pepper soft kisses from his fingers to his wrist. “You carry this weight everywhere, James. When was the last time you set it down?”
Bucky’s nostrils flare slightly as he breathes in deeply through his nose; he shakes his head, lips quivering before revealing his glassy eyes.
“I c-can’t… he didn’t deserve to- to die because of me, so I- I don’t deserve to put it down.”
“Oh, Bucky, darling,” You release his hand to hold his face. His pulse throbs under your palm as you slide your hand upwards, slipping your pinky and ring fingers behind his ear.
“Holding this in, letting it control you for so long, it’s blinding you, love. It’s tricked you into thinking you deserve the pain but you don’t. You don’t.”
Bucky leans into your right hand, raising his own to cover yours.
“You don’t have to believe me right now, cause I know you don’t.” A dry chuckle falls from the firefighters mouth. “But can try and trust me on this? Trust me to look after you when you need it?”
Your breathe hitches in your throat when he presses his lips to your palm, all while holding your stare. You’ll never grow old of him looking at you this way.
Bucky smiles gently, “I’ve always trusted you, doll.”
“Good.”
Sitting here, holding each other again with tear stained cheeks and tired eyes, it would be easy for someone to think you’re in love.
Maybe they wouldn’t be wrong, not about you anyway. Though, you’re happy to keep that to yourself for now.
“You should sleep, Barnes.” He huffs a laugh, pulling away from your grasp.
“Had enough of me already, sweets?”
Now you’re the one laughing, “Never,” you push yourself to your feet and offer him your hands, “come on, let’s get you to bed.”
Taking your help, Bucky lets you lead him to his bedroom. You pull back his duvet and step back, letting him climb into his bed, limbs weighed down by his fatigue.
You crouch down beside him. “How’d you feel about staying home tonight? I don’t want you pushing yourself to work when you’re not ready.”
Battling to keep his eyes open, Bucky mumbles a response into his pillow. “Okay, doll. For you.”
While it’s too dark to see, your neighbour knows that you’re blushing. You go to stand up and leave but a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back.
“Stay with me, Y/n.”
You smile. “Okay, love. For you.”
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a/n: i really hope this was worth the wait! it’s taken me a long time to get this written properly and in the way it deserves. hope you can tell i was feeling shit when i wrote bucky’s breakdown - you write what you know, ay?
thank you so much for reading, don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed. all the support i’ve received so far has been incredible and it makes me smile like mad when i read your comments.
as always, asks and dms are open - questions, requests, suggestions, whatever you’d like!! love, red ❤️
comment if you’d like to be added to the ashes to embers taglist 🧡
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north-upon67 · 2 days
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https://lisa-749.mxtkh.fun/xu/RZnadvf
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As far as Steve knows, I have mostly been kept at the office filing paperwork after a brief, uneventful, mission.
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If he finds out he'll be all upset and call me a hypocrite, like I wanted to do this.
This was Sam's fault, anyway. (looking at you @samwilson-official)
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navybrat817 · 2 days
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Does CEO Bucky have a boy or girl?
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Great question, nonnie.
Love and thanks! ❤️
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queenashen · 2 days
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Pow pow pow
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I read the hobbit in 1937 when it first came out
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nerdbrazil · 2 days
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it will come back.
"i warn you, baby, each night, as sure as you're born, you'll hear me howling at your door..." - hozier, it will come back
pairing: yandere!bucky barnes x reader c.w.: dark!bucky (he definitely does some questionable things, but nothing graphic)
a.n. - it's official, i've become addicted to lower case fics. they're just so much fun. they've got a vibe, you know? anyway, this is my first attempt at a darker bucky, so i hope you enjoy!
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
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this is your fault. it’s all your fault.
you know better, or at least, you should have known better.
what else could you expect from a man like him? a man robbed of his humanity for so long. a man so close to ferality. that's who he is in all matters of you, a man more beast than human, no better than an animal when it came to you.
that’s how you should’ve treated him. as a beast. prowling back and forth in their confinement. poised to devour any unlucky soul that got too close. so long as he was caged, you were safe.
you didn’t though. you didn’t treat him like the beast he became the moment he saw you.
maybe in another life, he could've loved you in a normal, sane way. in another life, he could give you the sweetness you deserved. in a life where he wasn't so twisted and tormented, he would have done just that. the flowers. the chocolates. the romance.
but this is love, he tells himself.
this raw, deranged, twisted, obsession.
this is his love.
he loves you.
he swears he does.
in this life, this is the only way he can show you just how much he loves you. just how far he's wiling to go to love you.
something happened to him the moment he set his sights on you. perhaps something broke. perhaps something mended. but maybe this was always who he'd been. all he knows is that heaven is not fit to house the love he has for you.
it didn't matter. the moment he set his sights upon you, you were doomed.
he wanted to scream, to bellow a warning to stay as far away from him as possible.
he stayed silent during that first meeting. his jaw tense, spine straight as an arrow, fists clenched so tight he was sure there would be indents in the metal of his vibranium palm.
"it was nice to meet you, sergeant barnes." you made a point to place yourself in his line of sight, forcing him to look at you in those bright, wide eyes. "i look forward to working with you."
that was your first mistake. he had the strength to stay away. to resist the feeling creeping up his spine. but you just kept rattling his cage. calling out to him with your siren song.
"bucky," you rest your hand on his shoulder. you're trying to soothe him. you don't realize it's a kindness neither you nor him could afford. "it's alright."
he stiffens, that's the first time you've ever touched him. it's the first time he's ever heard his name fall from your lips. not sergeant, not sir, but his name.
his chest heaves, rising and falling as he tries to control himself. you think it's just the adrenaline of the mission. you don't have any idea how overwhelmed he is by your presence.
it's your own kindness that was your undoing, that was his unraveling. years of discipline, years of training, years of strength gone with a touch.
if he didn't love you so much, he'd hate you.
from that moment on, it all spiraled. he spiraled.
he wasn't a patient man, not by any stretch of the imagination. but for you, he'd wait. for you, he'd bide his time.
first, he watches. he watches and look for ways to insert himself into your life. it was almost too easy. for a shield agent, you were careless. doors unlocked. blissfully unaware of your surroundings on long, morning runs. you barely realized how he'd slithered his way onto your missions.
it helped you were vying for his approval, for his adoration. you didn't know that you had it from the moment he saw you. he started slow. inserting himself into your daily routine. a simple good morning. a good night. passing by you in the corridor, always offering a quick grin. he listened to you. to your ideas. your wants. your little anecdotes.
soon, you were close enough to invite him into your apartment. if only you knew that he'd seen it before.
"bucky, we're friends, right?"
he gritted his teeth. friends. no. you weren't friends. you were the love of his life. you were everything he had ever wanted, everything he would ever want. you were the center of his universe. he couldn't tell you that. not yet. "yeah. why do you ask?"
"i just wanted your opinion on this guy."
"a guy?" his voice is so clipped, so gruff, he's shocked you can't hear his teeth grinding together. his fists clench. can't you feel the rage rolling off of him?
"yeah, this agent," you sigh. "he keeps asking me out. i keep trying to let him down easy, but he's not taking the hint."
"oh."
your eyebrows furrow. he almost smiles to himself. you're so aware of him, of what he does or doesn't do. you're worried you upset him. you're worried you shouldn't have told him. he likes that you're this concerned about what he thinks. "should i - i'm sorry i shouldn't have said that to you."
he places his hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. "no, i'm glad you told me."
it was too easy for him to swipe your phone when you weren't looking. too easy for him to find out which agent dared to try to take you from him.
and it was even easier to get the agent paired with bucky on a field mission. just the two of them. overseas in an unfamiliar country. there were just so many things that could go wrong.
he was respected in the avenger's compound. and in this moment, he's glad he put in the work to earn that respect. he didn't think they'd respect him so much if they knew how easy it was for him to sabotage that agent. he couldn't kill the guy, but if a gun shot to the leg wasn't enough of a warning, there were other ways to get him off your back.
all of this was your fault. you opened the cage, whether you knew it or not. you pushed him to this. you showed him the warmth of your doorways.
you could've left him alone. left him to the land. left him to the cold that he knows from the depth of his bones. you should never have let him taste your warmth. you shouldn't have uttered a single word to him, not when he's sat in silence for so long, not when the sound of your honey sweet voice in enough to feed his hungry soul.
you can't show warmth to someone stone cold.
you can't feed someone starved for decades.
you can't show mercy to someone used to the harsh, unyielding world.
you should never have let him in unless you planned on keeping him.
or he'll come back.
"bucky," you pant, running to bucky's room after hearing about his disastrous mission. "i heard - i heard things went wrong on that mission. i thought you were -"
"i'm okay. don't worry." he tries to bite back the smile at the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you were worried about him.
your words come out in short bursts. "i just - the guy - he's the one i told you about - i heard he was shot - and - and that you were on the mission with him-"
"that was the guy who wouldn't leave you alone?" there's an intentional lilt to his voice. of course he knew. but he didn't want to give away just how much he knew. you weren't ready for that. "he's okay, if that's what you're worried about."
"i was worried about you." your eyes lift to his, shining with tears, with admiration. you were so close to putting the final nail in your coffin. "i was so worried about you."
he should tell you to run. the lion should never live with the lamb. if only you'd left him to the land.
"i'm okay. i promise."
run, he silently warns you.
run.
run.
"i just- " your frantic eyes find his again. you don't say another word. you lunge forward, planting your warm hand on the side of his face. your lips meet his in a frenzy.
too late.
it was far, far too late. it was too easy for him to become addicted to your presence. how easy you are for him to need. how easy you are for him to crave.
he'll always come back for more. he'll never be satisfied. he lived deprived for so long.
you should've know the reason they locked him away and threw away the key. he's a greedy beast.
and he's decided, he can't live with a taste. not anymore.
"i just want to talk to you," the agent pleads with you. he follows you down the hallway, still limping on his leg after that gun shot. "just hear me out."
"look," you sigh, stopping for a moment out of pity. "i'm sorry you got hurt, but i've already told you, i'm not interested."
"you're not interested in me, but you're interested in the maniac that had me shot?"
your eyes widen at the accusation. "you're lying. and don't - don't talk about bucky like that."
"i just thought you should know what kind of man you're falling into bed with."
"you're just jealous." you're about to turn on your heels when he grips your bicep forcing you back around. he squeezes tightly, forcing you to stay in place. you look down at the white knuckled grip, "you're hurting me."
"he told me that i should be more careful next time. that next time it wouldn't be in the leg. you should ask him about it."
you wrench your arm from his hold. "stay away the hell from me."
you felt guilty about your reaction. even guiltier when he turned up dead just days later. the details of that assignment were so fuzzy. even an entire investigation turned up nothing.
"i can't believe he's gone," you softly cry into bucky's shoulder. "we were friends for so long, you know?"
"i'm so sorry, that can't be easy for you," bucky coos at you.
"i don't what happened. he was acting so strange the last few months and then we got into that fight. i said terrible things to him."
"you got into a fight?"
"he said some things. about you. about us."
"about me?"
"yeah." you nod, tears still stinging your eyes, but offering no other details of that argument. you didn't want to upset bucky with those strange accusations. "these last few months, he was like a different person. he wasn't the friend i knew. i'm sorry, i know i'm rambling at you. i just - i don't know how to feel."
"you don't have to be sorry," bucky promises, he strokes your back up and down, following the curve of your spine. "i understand."
"thank you." you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. "you're being so sweet to me."
"i would do anything for you."
you're not sure what it is. the inflection of his voice. the way the words fall from his lips without pause. or the intensity with which they ring in your ears. you freeze, peeling yourself out of his embrace. your heart hammers against your chest, the blood pumping faster and faster.
you look up and, for the first time, you get a glimpse of it. those blue eyes are almost unrecognizable. that vibrant blue is gone, replaced by something much darker. almost lupine. feral.
it was the first time you ever flinched away from him. you stumbled back, afraid of him.
if you didn't know better then, you certainly did now.
but it's too late for you. he's supposed to unlearn the warmth of your skin, the taste of your lips? he's supposed to let you go? just like that?
no. not a chance in hell.
he doesn't know why you can't see it. can't you see that blood that stained his hand was for you? that agent will never lay another hand on you. you'll never wince under his grip again. he'll never plant seeds of doubt in your head ever again. you're safe. here. in his arms.
you sent him away that night. but he doesn't care. it doesn't matter. he'll always find his way back to you.
he'll always come back.
can’t you hear him just outside your door?
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
a.n. this is my first attempt at writing a yandere fic, so let me know what you think! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a@weallhaveadestiny@mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064@michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73@withyoutilltheendoftheline@the-photo-hoe @rae-nna@sarachabeans1
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scoonsalicious · 3 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 22, Untold - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, strippers,
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Tony expressed his concerns about you going on this mission.
A/N: When Tony Met Pocket!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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Boston, 2002
The bass inside the club was pounding, reverberating through the air and your skull as you made your way onto the floor. The day had already been unbearably long, and after your shift tonight, you still had a mountain of reading to do for your Introduction to Data Structures and Algorithms class. But, MIT courses didn’t come cheap, even at two classes a semester, and you needed every penny you could make from your shifts at Beantown Burlesque. It would make more sense, financially, to work a club closer to the college, but the idea of running into any of your classmates or, god forbid, your professors, made the extra time and money you spent commuting from Cambridge to inner Boston completely worth it. 
Not that you expected a lot of tips tonight. It would have been better if you’d been scheduled to work the stage before they sent you to the floor; you were always requested for more lap dances after the patrons had seen you work the pole. You’d just have to work your ass off to entice a couple of lonely men into the VIP booth. But that always came with the additional task of fighting off requests for additional “services.” You may have been desperate for cash, but you were quite done with having your body sold for money, thank you.
You made your way over to the bar, hoping to get some intel on tonight’s patrons so you could shoot your best shot. 
“How’s it goin’ tonight, Cherry Pie?” the bartender, Mac, asked, using the pseudonym you’d chosen for your stage name when you started at the club a year ago. 
“No complaints yet, Mac,” you said, gratefully accepting the glass of water he offered you– it was important to stay hydrated, after all, “but then again, the night is very young.”
Mac let out a gruff laugh as he wiped down a glass. “You’re too young to be so cynical, Cherr,” he said.
You shrugged. That was an understatement. “Any good prospects tonight?” you asked, leaning your elbows on the bartop.
Mac nodded his chin toward a group of young men sitting close to the stage. “That group over there’s racked up a pretty big tab so far. Think they’re from the MIT alumni conference.” That piqued your interest. Beantown Burlesque might not be the ideal place to network, but you’d honestly take whatever you could get.
“They seem decent enough?” you asked Mac.
“About as decent as any group of blokes that come here,” he offered. “But they’ve been pretty respectful so far; no one’s tried to put hands anywhere they shouldn’t.”
“Good enough for me,” you told him. With a parting wave, you sauntered over to the group, making sure to put some extra sway in your hips. As you approached, you surveyed the collection of men. They all seemed to be centering their focus on one man in particular– he was dark haired with a goatee and wearing a pair of tinted glasses and looked vaguely familiar, though you couldn’t place where you might have seen him before. You clocked his expensive loafers and custom Armani suit, and the way the others around him laughed a little too loudly at what he was saying. 
That’s the one, you thought to yourself. He had the money. If you were going to make your rent on time this month, he was the one you’d need to impress.
“You boys fancy some company tonight?” you asked once you approached the group. The man with the goatee leaned forward, a sure sign of interest, and looked at you over the lens of his glasses.
“Well, gorgeous,” he said with a smirk, “we're not ones to turn down an offer for good companionship, especially from someone as captivating as you. But let's be real, the question is whether you can keep up with us. Think you're ready for the challenge?”
Oh, this one was cocky. You could work with that. You trailed your fingertips along the tops of his shoulders as you made your way around to the table in front of him. Without breaking eye contact, you picked up the double shot of whiskey sitting there and downed the entire thing in one swig without flinching.
The other men in the group whooped and hollered at your display, but the man with the goatee just studied you with a peculiar look on his face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked.
“You can call me Cherry Pie,” you said as you began swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music coming through the speakers. 
“I didn’t ask what they call you here,” he said, leaning back as you put your hands on his shoulder and began swaying in between his legs. “I asked for your name.”
“You haven’t spent nearly enough to earn that, honey,” you said as you gyrated. 
The man laughed at that, then, reaching for his wallet, pulled out a handful of crisp, one hundred dollar bills. He gently tucked them into the waistband of your bottoms. “How’s that?”
You looked at the bills tucked into your underwear. By your guess, there was about eight hundred dollars there. You just might make rent, after all. “It’s a start,” you shrugged, beginning your tried and true lap dance routine.
One of the other men in the group let out a loud laugh. “She’s sure got your number, Stark!”
At the name, your eyes shot to the man with the goatee’s face, and it suddenly clicked for you. “Holy shit,” you breathed. “You’re Tony Stark.”
Stark smiled. “Guilty as charged, sweetheart.”
“Your company’s network security sucks ass,” you told him, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.
He quirked an eyebrow at that. “Excuse me?”
Fuck. “Uh, nothing, sorry. Forget I said anything.” You put a renewed vigor back into your dance.
“Um, no.” Stark said, grasping your wrist firmly enough to encourage you to stop dancing, but gently enough to let you know he posed you no threat. “I want to hear how a stripper knows the faults of my network security.”
You blushed at that. “I, uh, may have broken in the back door and temporarily held your system hostage for ten minutes last May,” you confessed.
“That was you?” Stark exclaimed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounded… impressed. “You paralyzed our entire operation!”
“Yeah… sorry about that.” Well, you could kiss any further tips goodbye, that was for sure.
“Why’d you relinquish control back to us?” he asked. “You could have held it for ransom; we would have paid whatever you asked for.”
Huh. You had never even considered doing that. “Well, um, actually, I did it as part of a final project? For my Engineering Ethics and Professionalism course at MIT?”
Stark cocked his head at you. “With Erickson?” You nodded, and Stark actually laughed. “He still a narcissistic son of a bitch?”
You chuckled and nodded. “Sexist, too. He nearly shat a brick when he had to watch a mere girl bring a Fortune 500 company to its knees.”
Stark laughed, heartily. “I’ll bet he did! What I wouldn’t have given to see his face!”
“I set up a camera to record it,” you told him. “I can make you a copy of the VHS, if you want. I needed to capture the moment for posterity.”
From there, the atmosphere and your position in the group shifted. You were no longer the entertainment. Tony (he insisted you call him that) invited you to join him as his equal, and for the next several hours, he picked your brain, testing your knowledge and asking you questions about yourself, much to the displeasure of the rest of his group. One by one, they departed, until it was just the two of you. You were having the time of your life. You figured you’d never again have the opportunity to sit back and just hang out with such an icon of the tech community, and you were going to make the most of it. Now, here you were playing a game of Never Have I Ever.
“Never have I ever sheared a sheep,” Tony said with a grin.
“Why, Mr. Stark,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips (you failed to mention that, technically, you weren’t legally old enough to drink), “you haven’t truly lived until you’ve shorn the raw wool from an unwilling ewe.”
“You’re shitting me,” Tony said, laughing.
You took the glass from your lips without drinking. “You got me,” you told him. I grew up in Dayton. Not a whole lotta opportunities for sheep shearing there.”
A mischievous glint came into Tony’s eyes. “Your shift’s got to be almost over,” he said. “What do you say, Cherry Pie? Wanna go shear a sheep?”
“(Y/N),” you told him. “My name’s (Y/N), and I would fucking love to.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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armystrong980 · 3 days
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😍😍😍 Such a handsome man!
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heytheredelulu · 14 hours
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Back at it again with more imagines of Bucky and that ex HYDRA agent (The Winter Rose) that I totally made up in my head for my self indulgence. 🫣
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“Sarge, I need you.” She says quietly, stepping out onto the balcony where Bucky leans against the railing, having his midnight smoke, the backdrop of the restless city and its lights illuminated behind him.
“What do you need from me?” He asks, taking a long drag off his cigarette.
“Just-“ She releases a shaky breath, catching her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it from quivering. “Can you just touch me?” She questions in a whisper, moving closer to him.
“Touch you? He asks, raising an eyebrow and slowly exhaling a cloud of smoke. “What’s the matter, doll? Can’t sleep? You wantin’ me to hold you again?”
She shakes her head, catching his wrist and plucking the cigarette from his hand, stamping it out on the railing.
“I need you to touch me.” She says firmly, lifting his hand and resting his palm against her cheek. “Please.”
He lowers his gaze to meet her, concern evident in his blue eyes as he gently strokes his thumb back and forth across her cheek.
“Are you sure?” He asks in a low voice.
“Am I-“ She stammers. “Yes. Yes, I’m sure. Please. Just touch me. I need this, I need you.”
His thumb stills and he lowers his head, nuzzling his forehead against her temple.
“Doll.” He warns, taking in her scent with a shuddered inhale.
“We drew that line. We set those boundaries. Once we cross it there isn’t any coming back. I need you to be sure.”
“Fuck the line.” She whispers, her breath fanning across his neck and sending a shiver up his spine.
“Fuck the boundaries. And for the love of God, Sarge, please just fuck me.”
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Okay, that’s all. I’ll get back to writing Ready to Comply Pt 3 now.
💋Sj
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all of ur kids might be mentally unstable guys i pulled an all nighter js playing super mario bros on my ds¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯
All of my kids are mentally unstable. Apparently it's a family trait.
Sleep
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