#Sebastian stan x reader
@221bshrlocked Here you go!
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Words: 5 k
Rating: 18+ only (here children have a fruit snack *yeet*)
Summary: It's been a while (aka a few days) and you're both getting antsy. So it becomes a competition, of course.
Warnings: various forms of dirtiness, light choking (because he has a metal arm why not), and... self-denial? Idek if that's a thing but it is now.
A/N: This is technically a continuation of "Doll" but you don't really need to read it first (that's how little plot there is in this). Reader has invisibility powers.
Is this what withdrawal is? Barnes usually can't keep his hands off you but it's been six days since he touched you in any meaningful way and it's driving you mad.
It's not because you and Barnes haven't fucked since that night. It's because you have. The more nights he spends in your bed and the more nights you spend in his, the harder it gets to spend them alone.
And the withdrawal is not for lack of trying. He corners you in the hallway and slides a hand up your thigh only to have some member of IT walk by and ruin the moment. Or he follows you to the showers after your workout just to find it already occupied and giving neither of you privacy. And every night there's been something--Stark needing your help, Parker with a million questions, an errand for your mom--and every night you go to bed exhausted but so very unsatisfied. It's almost as if at the very moment you fall into an easy rhythm with someone the universe decides it's too much and you need to pay for the pleasure she's given you.
Sparring releases about half the tension that sparks between you two like an electrical cloud. It threatens to shatter the windows with shockwaves if it isn't tended to immediately. But the sparring is only just barely enough to tide you over until the next day.
Now that he knows, has confirmation of the fact, that you think about the way he fucks you into the mattress every time he pins you to the mat, Barnes has stopped letting you win. You barely get the opportunity to stand before he slams you to the ground again in some position or another, either with your hands pinned overhead or your face shoved into the ground.
"Again," he says, "again," disguising his intentions with thinly veiled excuses that you need to level up your training.
Eventually, it makes you tired. Not muscle tired, that would come regardless, but brain tired, from the thoughts of him constantly battering to the forefront of your mind with no outlet for release. When you're apart you wonder when you'll see him next and when you're near you wonder when you'll get to fuck him again. You're not exactly sure how it got to this point but his hunger is as insatiable as yours without that release.
Which is why it shouldn't surprise you when he finally breaks. Is it smackdown number six? Or is it seven, when he lands a blow to your stomach, knocks you forward off your feet, and rolls you onto your back to immobilize you? You groan in pain and frustration, your heavy breath puffing across Barnes' face.
He closes his eyes tight like he's the one in pain. "You have to stop making those sounds, doll. Driving me mad with that pretty mouth of yours."
"You're the one knocking me down, Barnes. I've got so many bruises I can't even count them anymore."
"I thought you liked getting a little rough."
You flush pink, dazed and speechless as his eyes open again and bear down into yours with a familiar intensity. You wiggle your hands to test the strength with which he's holding your wrists but they don't budge, only succeeding at making you squirm like a dying fish.
"This is crazy."
"Yeah, it is," he says, and then his gaze is flickering to your lips and it gives you just enough warning to suck in an anticipatory breath before Barnes is crashing his lips to yours and unleashing the beast of temptation. You respond, just as greedy, with a bite to his lower lip that pulls a growl from his hungry mouth.
He wastes no more time in holding you down; instead, he lets go of your hands to push roughly at your sports bra, lips still locked to yours. Barnes doesn't even remove the thing, just shoves it far enough up to reveal your chest and trap your arms overhead with the unyielding material. His hands are everywhere at once, spreading across your stomach, cupping the soft tissue of your breast, twisting one nipple and then the other. He leaves your lips behind to latch on, nibbling and sucking at the tender buds of flesh to make you squirm even more.
A choked cry leaves your lips. If anyone were to walk in right now...
And then a hand is down the front of your spandex where you know you aren't wearing underwear, because who wears underwear under spandex, and his fingers are gliding through your folds. Barnes sucks in a ragged breath at finding you so wet and warm from the exercise and he starts finger fucking you right there, in the middle of the training room, like he's willing to risk getting caught if it means he can make you orgasm.
This time it's quick and rushed but no less glorious, the way he expertly circles your clit with a finger and attends to the sensitive peaks of your chest with his tongue. He matches every one of your moans with one of his own, so lost in the thrill of finally touching you again that he doesn't care if you're being loud. Swiftly and suddenly you're coming hard around his fingers, gasping his name, eyes rolled to the back of your head. You're gorgeous, he thinks.
Barnes pulls his hand away once you've stopped bucking beneath him and looks into your eyes. He shoves his fingers in his mouth and sucks at the slick remnants of you, groaning with delight like your taste is enough to satisfy his insatiable hunger, and then kisses you to share in the ecstasy.
And then he stands, helping you to your feet and readjusting your clothes.
"I'll see you later," he says and leaves you standing alone on the sparring mat.
"You don't--that's...what?" You're left speechless and dazed for the second time today and it's only eight in the morning. What the fuck just happened?
You find Barnes at the breakfast counter, swallowing down what looks like half a dozen eggs and four pieces of toast before heading out into the field to do... well actually you don't know what he does between breakfast and lunch. Something classified.
He doesn't notice you until you reach out, grab his arm, and pull out a sharpie. Before he can demand to know what you're doing, you've drawn something, dropped his arm (the real one, of course), and left the way you came.
He studies your marking. It's nothing more than a single tally, small and black, on his inner forearm.
When Barnes gets back you're waiting. Not that he can see you. But he can see the indent of you on his bed where you must be laying.
"Not doing such a good job at hiding. We'll have to work on that one," he says while he unloads a surprising number of guns from an even more surprising number of places all over his body. And a knife.
"Not trying to hide," you say.
"Oh? Did Stark make you a better suit?"
"Not wearing a suit."
That gets him. Barnes turns with a sly smile on his face, momentarily frozen as you shift back into the visible spectrum. And then he's raking his eyes over the deliciousness of you, those curves a full course meal, and his stomach starved for a week straight. His cock twitches at the reminder that despite giving you an earth-shattering orgasm at eight o'clock this morning, he did nothing about his own needs.
You beckon him onto the bed with one finger.
"I have fifteen minutes until Parker needs my help."
Barnes doesn't care. He'll take fifteen minutes. Damn, he'll take two if it means touching you until you scream his name. It's more than he's had all week. He's devouring your lips in seconds, your hips melting to his touch as you roll over to straddle him, knees gripping his waist seeking out any kind of pressure you can find. You're conveniently naked and he's far too dressed but you don't need anything but his shirt off and his pants at his knees to make this worth your while.
You're sinking down around him before he can even ask to go down on you, your tight pussy fluttering around the rock-hard length of his cock. From this angle, you can feel his tip push against the sensitive tissue of your cervix, and it forces a curse from your mouth. You don't move but Barnes does, using his impossible strength to lift you by your hips and slam into you, leaving more bruises on your hips that you gladly add to your collection.
You rock when he rocks, meeting each of his grinding thrusts with a cry, your hands on his chest to give you support. He can feel you tighten around him, your walls contracting with each slam of his hips to yours, so he rests one hand flat on your pelvis, grounding you and rubbing at your clit with his thumb. The other presses to the small of your back, stabilizing you to hit that same spot you like so much over and over again.
"Come for me baby," he groans, the words smooth in the languid air of this shared moment.
"No," you manage to say, and it's like a punch to the chest. No? Why the fuck not? And suddenly he feels your resistance, you holding out against rapture, against the inevitable. "You first."
Your eagerness abruptly takes on a competitive tone and he can't know for sure what your intentions are but Barnes can picture them. This is no longer a shared moment but a one-on-one match that ends in sudden death.
"Not until you do."
You can't hold out. Not when he touches you like that. When you orgasm all over his cock his movements stutter and he joins you, pulling out just in time to spill his seed over the two of you. You finish it off with a desperate kiss that feels more like the start of something than the end of it.
"What the fuck was that?" he says as you pull away with a giddy smile, more confused than angry, relenting to the gentle touch of your hands smoothing across his chest after having driven into you like a railroad spike.
"A challenge," you giggle, and then he pulls you to his chest and you slump forward, entwining yourselves in one another's limbs to seek that extra bit of skin-to-skin contact that you're both fortunately so fond of. You glance over at the clock on his nightstand, only 12:23. Seven more minutes to snuggle. Seven minutes for Barnes to contemplate your sudden change in behavior and wonder if it has anything to do with his own actions this morning.
Finally, you get up to leave without having provided any reasoning. You simply peel your sweaty chest away from his. And then, strangely, the sharpie is back and you take his arm to add another little tally to the first. And then you add a single one to your own arm and suddenly he understands.
This isn't just a challenge. It's a game. He's in the lead and you're one behind, but if there's anything he can count on it's that you like a challenge and always rise to meet it.
Then there's the broom closet. Barnes wasn't aware Avengers HQ even had these. He thought it was far too high-tech for regular old cleaning supplies.
But inside, you even the score, sinking to your knees and sucking him dry before he can protest. You're sure by now he's figured out the game so you don't mask the glee on your face as he spills hot and thick down your throat. You love the weight of his balls in your palm as they twitch and contract, the way Barnes gathers your hair away from your face to watch you better and kisses you deep afterward to get a taste of himself. But you pull away quickly and slip right back out the closet door before he can get any ideas.
What are the rules? There are no rules, really. No indication of how long this could go on and no idea of what the prize might be at the end. It's competition for competition's sake, something you're both far too good at. That means it's not possible to cheat. No rules mean nothing's off the table.
And that's why it confuses you that Barnes lets you pull ahead in the game with not one, but two, handjobs, book-ending dinner with the Stark-Parker joint family dinner in Peter's apartment. Somehow, no one's noticed the absurd amount of time you and Bucky spend together, if they had Aunt May would have said something at the table, let alone your little charade of sneaking off to the bathroom together while the others do the dishes.
So what's his ploy? It worries you. Sure, Bucky's supersoldierness gives him stamina, but it also reduces his refractory period to nothing. He'd tried to had that fact for a bit, worried it might scare you or pressure you but it turns out it's just another one of the reasons this is so fun.
So again, you ask yourself, what's his ploy?
"Give me a hand, kid, will you?" Stark requests that evening. You're more than slightly annoyed at having to delay, or possibly fully cancel, the much more exciting events you had planned after dinner, though you're also indebted to Stark at this point.
"Why can't Parker?"
"He's got school in the morning."
Parker's the real kid. School. Seriously? But Stark has started treating you more like a daughter than anything else. Morgan takes up most of his attention but he makes an effort to check in on you, despite your disappearing acts.
Tonight, he wants to work on his car. Or one of his many cars. The man has access to the most high-tech, brand-new robotic engineering machinery in the world and he still decides to do this by hand. You'll never understand.
"Wrench," he says, and you pass it to him dutifully before he disappears back under the car.
"Look, Agent Hill Junior," you know you're going to get a lecture whenever he starts his talks this way, "I want you to know that if you need anything I'm here for you."
You don't respond, too confused by the sudden expression of concern for you. Stark is the kind of man who makes his intentions obvious, not through words, but actions. It's strange for him to speak to you directly.
"You can tell me if working with Barnes is too much. We can always take your training down a notch. You just need to tell me if you're getting hurt."
You just barely manage to suppress a laugh. So that's what this is about? A one-on-one chat about the collection of bruises you've acquired in the past month? Sure, some of them are from "training" as Stark calls it. But most of them...are not. You can only imagine how much Stark would flip if he knew the extent of your private activities.
"I'm fine, really," you say. "The training is good. I need to get good at hand-to-hand before I can move on to other things."
That seems to appease Stark enough for now. Surprisingly, he lets you go, although it's already nearly midnight by the time you leave the workroom. And you still want to shower, so you debate your options about doing it now or in the morning.
But the decision is made for you. Suddenly, a hand is grabbing your wrist, hauling you along the hallway, and into the elevator that leads out of Stark's workshop. The doors slide open with a ding and immediately you're shoved inside, falling back against the mirrored wall as Barnes joins you. He punches the door closed button aggressively.
When he gives you that look, hungry and insatiable, your hands grab the handrail behind you with more force than necessary to steady the fluttering arousal that spreads through your body.
"What took you so long?" he growls, caging you against the back wall with his metal hand on your chin. The pressure is just light enough to let you speak.
"You're two points down, James. I'm surprised you have anything left in you. Are you sure you aren't ready to give up yet?"
He chuckles at your response, though he isn't amused by your joke. He's amused that you're talking back to him, and he likes it because it means he can punish you for it.
"You know well enough I can fuck you all night," he says lowly in your ear. "But what about you? How many times can I make you come before you beg me to stop? I like a challenge, doll, and you've set one up nicely."
A warmth spreads through your core at the realization that this is why he let you take the lead. He wants to follow one orgasm with another and another and another.
He must know the effect he's having on you because Barnes' face breaks into a sly, lopsided grin that tells you everything you need to know about what he's up to. He's claimed you, claimed your bed, claimed your evening, claimed your thoughts. Now he's even claiming victory. Premature victory.
As the elevator shifts into motion, rising toward the residential floors, Barnes lurches against you, a little rougher in his movements than necessary. He waits, silently, as you breathe in the heat of each other's arousal.
"You're talking some mad talk for a man in second place," you manage to say, your voice coming out much softer than you intended. He's pinned up against you with an unreadable face, the kind he's probably practiced a million times so as not to give away his thoughts to the enemy. Yet, you can't think about anything but the hard length pressed to your thigh, so you release one of your hands from its iron grip on the handrail and reach out to touch it. His cock twitches beneath your palm and the facade falters. Barnes steadies his breath with his eyes closed.
"Not for much longer. I hope you've got that goddamn sharpie because we're making plenty of marks tonight."
The elevator doors open and you're very glad no one's around to see Barnes lift you roughly over one shoulder and carry you straight to his room, not stopping to put you down until the door is closed and you're against it. He must really love pinning you to various surfaces, one knee between your thighs to hold your legs apart.
Immediately, his lips are on yours and he's kissing you in the way that swallows your breath until he's the only air that matters. And then he's dragging his mouth over every inch of exposed skin he can find, pulling off your shirt to give him more space to work with as you gulp down air to stay alive.
The question becomes not where he kisses you but where he does not.
If you're being honest with yourself, half of you wants to just let this happen, let him make you come over and over again, and screw the game. Screw denying your pleasure, screw forgoing your inner instincts, let the way your body responds to his dark gaze, your chest heaving against the thin lace of your bra, convince you to abandon all hope of winning this challenge. As if sensing you edging closer toward defeat, Barnes' hands wrap tightly around your waist, arching your back, pushing your chest forward so he can graze his teeth over the tender bud of your breasts. His hands slide up your spine to release the clasp that contains them.
The other half of you wants to be a little brat.
"You're never going to win fully clothed, James," you tease. Your words are breathless and a little less than confident, and, okay, maybe you just said that to get a rise out of him, but his thigh between yours shifts almost imperceptively in reaction. Almost. That slight movement is enough to push the seam of your pants against the tender bud of your clit, even through your panties, and you realize instigating him is only going to make him push harder against your resistance.
So you push back, hooking the fingers of one hand through his belt loops and resting the other on the bulge in his pants. Barnes doesn't even respond to your touch, just grinds his thigh between yours again, his mouth still abusing the sensitive skin of your nipples. But two can play this game. You squeeze lightly as you run your hand down his length, stopping only when you reach the heaviness of his balls that twitch in your palm.
He's barely reacting, though the weight of him is hot and hard. Yet the rough fabric of his jeans between your legs alone is able to make you tremble, even as he uses his grip on your waist to control the motion. You didn't expect to be so sensitive, but it seems the harder you resist the more torture is inflicted and you can feel the flood of your arousal soaking through the layers of fabric between you. If he keeps this up, Barnes is going to take the lead.
You harden your resolve, suppress your sighs of arousal, but it's so fucking hard. His movements are hypnotic and you find yourself not even paying attention to what he's doing with his mouth. A whimper escapes your lips despite all your effort and he looks up with a smile.
"Fuck, I love that sound," he says. "Do it again."
Bad idea. Very bad idea. He does make you, your whimpers echoing out over and over again until you can't resist the heavenly pleasure of riding his thigh, and your cunt clenches around nothing and you come. It hits you so suddenly, creeps up on you so quietly in spite of your resistance, you don't even know it's happening until it's over and the heat of your orgasm has soaked into his jeans and left a dark imprint of you on his thigh.
"I don't need to be naked to make you come, doll," he chokes out, partly in awe at how beautiful your face is when it contorts into an 'o' of pleasure and partly because your grip on his length has tightened as you came and now he's the one having trouble resisting.
But you don't even get a chance to react to his words before Barnes has your pants on the floor and panties flung somewhere over his shoulder. His mouth is on your pussy, hands spreading your legs even further apart, nose pressed to the curls at the apex of your thighs. Your hands fly to his hair and somehow you can only think about how soft and fluffy it is until his teeth graze against that tight bundle of nerves and you're leaning into him just to stay on your feet.
You'd curse him to high heaven for already closing the distance if your brain could just form the words. To hell if you're going to let him make you immediately come again, though a muttered, fuck you Barnes is all you can squeak out.
"Language," he grunts from between your legs, doing his best to coax you out of your struggle and into surrender. He can feel the tension between your desire to relinquish and your desire to fight when you clamp your thighs around his ears, feel your resistance on his tongue as he savors you bit by bit, feel you torture yourself for the pleasure of the competition. "Relax, doll, let me make you feel good."
"No, not yet, no--"
But your protests die on your lips. This time, your orgasm doesn't surprise you; you feel it coming every step of the way like trying to outrun an avalanche until it swallows you whole. The back of your head thunks against the door and you begin to slide down it as your legs lose their stability with the force of the spasms wracking your body. You only realize when Barnes is standing again and leaning his forehead against yours that he's holding you up.
"I believe that makes it a tie game." And it dawns on you why he likes this challenge so much. You're already wrecked, too exhausted to make much of an effort to try to take control. And he's only just begun. He has you alone, all to himself, and he won't stop until he's done.
Already Barnes is attacking your lips with his again, his hands roaming wherever they please, and you protest your inability to resist his charms with a half-hearted groan.
"Don't give me that, doll. You asked for a challenge so you'll get one."
You want to scream at him that you know you can't resist him, but that would be conceding to the fact, and really, a part of you wants him to push you as far as you can go. Off the fucking edge if he has to. So your tone remains defiant.
"Gonna get creative, James? Maybe move me to the bed instead of fucking me against a door?"
Barnes laughs but there's no warmth in it, only the sensation of his cool metal hand sliding up your sternum, inching toward your neck, sending goosebumps across your chest.
"Just for that, I will fuck you against this goddamn door until you come, screaming my name."
And then he squeezes and your eyes roll back and you nearly lose it again. It takes all your concentration to reel in your orgasm, but he waits. Waits for the surge of pleasure to overtake you, for you to acquiesce to the pressure around your neck, for you to give him that look that begs him to fuck you.
But it doesn't come.
Again, you push back, deny him the pleasure of your orgasm, but it only serves to increase his desire to please you. Suddenly his demeanor shifts, you can see it in his eyes when he stares straight into yours. The look on Barnes' face has changed. It's almost... imploring. When he kisses you again, it's different, no longer commanding and in control, but simply searching for a way to make you happy. He can't stand that you're torturing yourself, can't stand enjoying himself so much while you fight against your own satisfaction. He wants you to come under the skill of his mouth, to tremble and shake against his face as he tastes your orgasm on his tongue, and he wants you to love it, to enjoy it while it happens. Fuck the game, fuck the challenge. You can do whatever you want to him just for a single moment in heaven between your thighs.
"Please, baby, let me take care of you. Whatever you want, you can have. Whatever you want, just take it. But let me do this for you. Let me be your release."
You don't know what to say. A moment ago he was ready to fuck you so hard you forgot your own name and now he's begging you to let him please you. So you don't say anything, just tug on the button of his pants, slide the zipper down, and release his hard cock from the confines of his pants. He tries to help you, tries to remove his own clothes, but you stop him.
"You can do that later. Just follow through and fuck me against the door like you promised."
He doesn't need to be told twice. One leg is hiked up around his waist and then he's slamming into you with no preamble. Barnes is no longer concerned with kissing you or tasting you or restraining you by your neck. He is only concerned with driving into your sweet cunt, slick with two orgasms, and muttering how gorgeous you are, how fucking gorgeous against your neck until you're digging your nails into his back to take hold of him.
But he's not deep enough and suddenly your other leg is also around his waist and you know for certain there will be bruises on your back and thighs in the morning from the beating you're taking. But the fire in his soul is back and Barnes wants to hear his name on your lips.
"Does that fucking feel good? Is that what you need, doll?" he questions through clenched teeth, his words punctuated with desperation. You manage to gasp out a confirmation between the involuntary cries that escape your mouth every time he hits your g-spot.
"Who makes you feel this way baby? Who fucks you this good?"
"You, James. Only. You." Your thighs tighten around his waist and the blood rushing in your ears makes it difficult to concentrate on the sound of his voice guiding you through your orgasm, but he keeps going, keeps slamming into you, keeps speaking, say it again, baby, say it again.
James, James, James, Jam--
You barely remember the rest, your staggering orgasm, his release inside you, and somehow making it to bed. You just know it feels so good to let go and fall asleep in his arms.
You slip in and out of the fuzzy warmth of sleep to kisses across your chest and down your stomach, not stopping until his mouth is cleaning your thighs and tasting the sweetness of your cunt and pulling one more, languid, idle release from you, and you stay awake just long enough to ask Barnes what he's doing.
"I win, doll."
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-A Ghost Story-
Chapter 14. I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire
Bucky Barnes x reader
Warning: angst, use of a weapon, injury, fluff, swearing
Previous chapter • Masterlist
Trees blurred into green streaks as you drove-no raced past.
Your mind also raced. Everything that the doctor and Rumlow said echoed in your mind.
Molchalin wanted you to be the Phantom again and Rumlow wanted Bucky to be the Winter Soldier. You both were just weapons to them, not human beings. Would people always think that? Would there always be someone who wanted to exploit your abilities for their own gain. Yes, there would be. You couldn't let Molchalin be able to hurt anyone else. This needed to stop.
The early afternoon sky was begining to be overwhelmed by clouds. You turned a street corner and entered a street shadowed by thicker woods.
Bucky remained quiet beside you. Holding his stomach wound with a tense arm. You knew that he was thinking about that the doctor said as well. He just didn't know what Rumlow's plans for him were.
You took a deep breath and spoke. "...After we got separated...a man showed up. His name was Rumlow. And he-he said that he wanted you to fight Captain America...for revenge. That's what the machine was for. To trigger..." you trailed off, lip trembling. You gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles whitening.
You glanced at Bucky to gage his reaction to what you said. You caught a glimpse of recognition in his eyes as he stared out of the windshield.
"Rumlow worked for HYDRA," he said finally.
You nodded. ""Worked". Past tense. He basically said screw HYDRA before we fought."
"Did you win?"
"I don't think so."
You leaned against the front door to your apartment with a sigh of relief. You were finally home. The windows let little of the moonlight in, you turned on the light that hung above the little hallway entrance.
Bucky went directly into the bathroom. You trudged behind him after tossing your jacket onto the table by the door. You rubbed your sore sternum as you entered the bathroom. He flicked on the overhead light, illuminating the small room in warm light. The same light spilled into the main room of the apartment.
With one hand, he opened the cabinet below the sink. You leaned over him to wash your hands. He ducked from under you, bringing out a small blue towel and a box of medical supplies. You dried your hands with a towel that rung on a rack beside the sink.
"Let me," you said, putting the towel back. You took the box from his hands. "Are you able to get the shirt off?"
He looked down at his bloodied shirt. "Cut it. It's ruined anyway."
"Alright," you said, setting the box on the sink counter. "Sit tight."
You went into the kitchen in search of the scissors that were shut up in one of the drawers. The scissors were in the far drawer, by the window. You picked the scissors up and went back to the bathroom. Bucky was now sitting on the edge of the bathtub, leaning forward and fiddling with his thumbs. You snapped the scissors open and closed to alert him to your presence.
Standing before him, you pulled the collar of the shirt away from his neck and hair and brought the scissors up.
"Hold still..." you murmered.
With care, you snipped the collar of the shirt and slid the scissors down through the thin material. When the shirt was cut open, you helped him pull it from his frame. You tossed the shirt into the tub behind Bucky.
Crimson blood had seeped from the wound and was smeared across his stomach. The bullet entered just above his pant line on the left side.
You forced yourself to not stare at his broad chest or muscled stomach or thick arms or strong shoulders or anything of the sort. You had to focus on fixing him up.
You leaned around him to look at his back. There was an exit wound. "The bullet went through-which is good," you told him. He huffed in response.
From what you could see throught the blood on both wounds was already beginning to heal. You took the blue towel from Bucky and went to the sink and wet the corner of the cloth. You squeezed the dripping water out, leaving the corner dampened. Crouching in front of Bucky between his legs- being mindful of your own injuries, you began to clean the blood from around the wound on his abdomen. You worked quickly but efficiently. This process felt more natural than shooting and stabbing people.
Motioning for Bucky to turn to the side, you wiped the blood from his lower back. You could now clearly see that the tissue had closed and the blood that you have been washing from his skin was not fresh.
You were still careful around the injured areas, not wanting to hurt him further. Bucky didn't complain though.
He eyes were cast down. "It was easy to do it again. Fight like that," he said abruptly.
You thought about how you used your past training to get out of the handcuffs. How it felt so natural to use your fists to do harm and to aim a gun at the guards, shooting them without hesitation. Using that knife to cut into them. The opposite end of the spectrum of natural.
"I know what you mean," you said as you folded the towel to a clean dry area. You dabbed the skin on his abdomen dry.
"Maybe that's a bad thing," he said, voice faltering slightly. You still heard it. "It being so easy."
You opened your mouth to speak but paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. Finally, you said, "...We've been in the ring too long. I don't think what HYDRA taught us going to go away."
"I wish it did."
"I know, honey."
"I don't need more blood on my hands. I have more than enough of that. Every fight that I've been in ended with someone bleeding or dead," he murmered.
"You can't think of it like that," you said, shaking your head. You set the towel in the bathtub and leaned back on your heels to reach toward the sink behind you. "It wasn't you then. And you wound have died today I'd you hadn't killed those guards."
He just looked at the floor.
You retrieved the box of medical supplies from the atop sink counter. You balanced the box on your thighs as you took out a box of adhesive gauze. Setting the box of supplies aside, you took out two packets of gauze. You opened one of them and gently placed it on the wound on his stomach. You caught the light inhale Bucky did through his nose.
"Almost done," you told him. You made a circle with your pointer finger in the air. "Turn."
He rotated his body just enough to allow you to place the gauze over the wound on his back.
You carefully smoothed the patch. "Alright! You should be completely healed in a couple hours. Just don't move around drastically or you'll break the skin open," you said, standing.
Bucky smirked, "Okay, Doc."
You rolled your eyes as you walked to the bathroom sink. You used your wrist to turn the water on. You washed your finger tips of blood, watching the pink water flow down the drain. As you washed your hands, Bucky changed into a fresh shirt, which was a light red color.
You moved your hair back, revealing your ears, which still slightly rung. Dried blood stained your skin where it seeped out from your ears. This was a familiar sight. With your ears being so sensitive to loud sounds, they bled. The eardrum rupturing easier than normal.
You sighed at the inconvenience of it all and grabbed the towel that you used on Bucky, finding a clean spot to run water over it.
You were about to begin cleaning yourself up when Bucky reentered the bathroom.
"I'll do it," he said, taking the towel from you. You turned to face him, eyebrows rising.
Using his cool fingers to tilt your head up and to the side, he used the damp cloth to wipe the blood from your ears in gentle strokes. His face was stern with concentration as he cleaned you up, you couldn't help but smile.
As he silently worked, you thought back to what the doctor and Rumlow said about what they wanted to do to you. Your smile dimmed. Biting your lip, you contemplated on how to approach Bucky with your idea.
"...I've been thinking about what that doctor said" you said slowly.
Bucky hummed, wiping blood from your earlobe. He moved on to your other ear, finding a fresh spot on the towel and wetting it.
You continued, "And we know the location of Molchalin..."
The towel in Bucky's hand paused, he knew where you were going with this. His face hardened until it was practically unreadable. He stared down at you, the weight of his unmoving gaze was eerie. However, you did not break eye contact.
You said, "Hear me out, okay? I can't rest easy knowing that he is looking for me and wants to use me again. I have to put a stop to this. To stop him from hurting anyone else."
Bucky was silent after you finished speaking, his eyes narrowed. You could feel the protest rising in him. "Y/n, are you sure?" he asked.
"Bucky, I need to do this." You pulled away from him and walked around him, out of the bathroom. Bucky turned to watch as you paced back and forth across the apartment. "And I know you just said that you didn't want to hurt anyone anymore and I know that doing this won't change anything-but I'm doing this for me.
"I need to shut this door at least."
A line formed between Bucky's eyebrows as he contemplated your words.
You snatched a gray button down shirt from the chair that sat beside the mattress. "I won't ask you to come with me," you said as you pulled the shirt over your shoulders, buttoning the front over the tank top you wore. "That won't be fair to you."
"Which is why I'm going with you," he said. "Someone needs to make sure you don't get into more trouble."
The night life buzzed around you and Bucky as you both crouched behind a sharply cut bush next to a cobblestone pathway that led to the back of the large estate of the HYDRA general Molchalin. Crickets chirped in your ears but you were focused on sounds further away, like the sound of shoes walking on hard floors and voices.
Your head tilted slightly as you listened to a door open then close on the second floor. Multiple people wandered in and outside the mansion. On all three floors. Sevents you assumed, assistants. You focused on two distinct voices that spoke out in Russian. A woman and a man. The woman sounded younger, about your age-maybe less. The man's voice was older, almost weak in delivery. It was the same voice in your nightmare.
"What do you hear?" Bucky whispered. He shifted his bent position toward you. His pistol was held in his right hand, his other braced against the lush leaves of the bush.
Before you left the apartment, Bucky had taken out the floorboards in the kitchen and retrieved your guns. It had been several months since you had used or even seen them.
"I count twelve people inside. Six on the first floor, two on the second and one on the third. Molchalin is on the second floor. He is talking to a woman about some party they will attend tomorrow," you stated quietly. "Five guards are patrolling the perimeter of the garden. We can avoid them if we move to the along quietly those trees to our right."
Bucky looked where you pointed at a row of thick trees that towered behind rose bushes. It would provide enough cover to avoid being seen. "Alright. I'll follow you."
You nodded, gripping your pistol. "Come on."
You carefully walked in the shadowed of the trees keeping an ear out, listening for anyone who may approach. The trees led to the side of the house. A glass patio door on the side of the mansion was unlocked.
You and Bucky snuck through the halls, footfalls making no sound to unsuspecting persons. It was easy to move around in such a large house. You didn't engage with anyone, they weren't who you were here for. You silently walked up the elegant winding staircase to the second floor. The wood was smooth and polished. The room that Molchalin was in was at the end of the long hall. You could hear him walking slowly sound inside.
The dark wood door made no sound as you opened it.
Everything in the room seemed to be made of gold. The floor, rugs, tables, chairs, columns, walls, ceiling. Life had treated him good. It wasn't fair.
Molchalin stood at a table by the golden wall with his back to you. He was pouring himself a drink from a glass bottle. Ice clattered inside the glass cup he held.
A carved wooden cane was leaning against the edge of the table by his leg.
With his back still to you, he set the bottle down and took hold of his cane, leaning onto it. Turning, he was met with you and Bucky. Fear erupted on his white face.
"<Winter Soldier,>" Molchalin said in Russian with a suprised tone. His eyes drifted from Bucky to you. "<Phantom. I expected you sooner. And alone.>"
Your skin crawled. "<Sorry for the disappointment,>" you deadpanned.
Molchalin furrowed his eyebrows, a confusions expression making his face more wrinkly. Realization and fear widened his eyes, then disappointment "<Damn Rumlow, the vengeful fool. I said that he would be unreliable. I must say that this creates a challenge in the plan.>"
"<What plan is that?>" Bucky asked.
Molchalin looked between you and Bucky. "<The failure of Project Insight only proved that Americans are useless in executing what needs to be done. You are to clean up that mess, Phantom. Finish what was started,>" he said.
Bucky started. "<There were millions of named tied to those helicarriers. You expected her to kill all of them?>"
"<It would take time, yes, which is why I was hesitant on giving you to Agent Rumlow. But, I needed this done quickly. I most likely won't see the end of Phantom's work,>" the HYDRA general said, nodding to his cane at his side.
Your annoyance flared. "<Save the sob story for someone who gives a shit. HYDRA is gone, you have no power anymore,>" you spat.
This time, Molchalin's eyes flickered with annoyance."<Do you think that HYDRA died in Washington D.C? Our work is never finished. We will always be here. Cut off one head, two more will grow in it's place.>"
"<Not anymore,>" Bucky said. You lifted your head to look at Bucky, who nodded to you.
You turned back to Molchalin, hand tightened around your gun.
"<Killing me won't bring anyone back,>" Molchalin held up a withered hand. "<The seeds of chaos by your hands cannot be undone.>"
"<That is the past. I can't change or fix what happened or what I've done. But I can stop it from happening again.>" you lowered the pistol's hammer.
"<HYDRA made you,>" he snarled. The desperation in him was clear now. "<You are nothing before us, a forgotten woman in a ditch of bodies. Now, you are legendary, a ghost story that keeps the most powerful of men awake at night. That will forever be your legacy.>"
"<Maybe,>" you shrugged. "<Either way, you won't be alive to hear the tale.>"
His eyes widened, he opened his mouth. "Spu-"
The gunshot rang out throught the halls of the mansion.
A sigh of what you think was relief left your mouth. You lowered the gun as his body slumped to the floor. The cane hit the floor with a sharp slam.
Red stained the hardwood floor. Panicked shouts drifted up from the lower floor.
No one saw the two former HYDRA assassins skillfully leave the estate. How they jumped down from the second floor and into the red rose garden. How they leaped over the wall that surrounded the property and disappeared into the night.
The wailing sirens drifted into the wind as you walked further away from the estate. Orange street lamps illuminated the black pavement. The wind blew leaves through the air.
You felt cold, skidish as you walked quickly deeper into town. The sounds of the still awake population replaced the sirens.
You didn't regret what you just did, hell no. But you had faced the man who had a hand in ruining your entire life. After thirty years, you had stood in the some room as him, and he didn't hold your many strings. You didn't know how to process this.
Bucky grabbed your bicep, stopping you on the sidewalk under an overhanging tree. "Did you hear what I said? Hold on a minute."
"Bucky, we-we need to keep moving," you said. If you spoke firmly enough, maybe your voice wouldn't shake.
He tilted his head, expression full of concern. "Are you alright?"
Your lip trembled. Keep it together. Not in front of him. Not now. "I'm fine," you said.
"Y/n..." His hand release its grip on your arm but still held it out toward you.
"I'm fine. I'm fine."
Bucky wasn't convinced, naturally. He stepped closer to you and gently placed his hands on either side of your face. His eyes searched yours.
"Bucky, I'm fine," you maintained.
He leaned down and pressed a soft warm kiss to your forehead.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to stop a sob from escaped through your clenched teeth, to no avail.
Wind swept your hair around your face.
"Sweetheart," Bucky murmered as he pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. You clenched your hands into fists into his jacket at his sides, pressing your face against his shoulder.
Tears began to spill from your eyes as he held you. His chin dropped on your shoulder as you cried into his. Your cries muffled by his jacket.
He showed no sign of letting go anytime soon and you were grateful. Bucky was the only thing holding you together right now. You don't know how long you stood there in his arms. Minutes? Hours? Years? But he didn't let go for a long time.
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A Few Weeks Pt6
Hello All!!!! I am so sorry for the long wait on this part. Thank you for the support and kind words! I look forward to getting some more parts out to y’all soon! As always request and tags are open.
Summary: You are suck in a house with Hiddleston, Stan and Evans and Stan decides he wants a sweet treat.
It is a shorter part but I feel the story coming back and will have parts up very soon!!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Y/N was in a god-awful mood. She was bored and frustrated. Messing around with the men was fun and had its perks, but you could only organism so many times in a day. She opened and closed the fridge, pantry, and cabinets for the fifth time today, hoping something would change or magically appear. She noticed the whipped cream and strawberries and knew there were baking ingredients in the pantry. It had been years since she had baked anything. She cooked all the time, but baking took time, and it was time she usually didn't have. But she had the time now, so might as well. She wanted to make a strawberry shortcake. It was perfect for summer. She started pulling out ingredients and looked up a recipe on her phone. It was very apparent she was rusty at the skill by the time she got the shortcake in the oven. The kitchen counter floor and herself were covered in flour and other ingredients. Y/N got the kitchen cleaned and started cutting up the strawberries when she felt a hand at her back and a kiss on her cheek.
"What are you up to, ms betty crocker?" Sebastian quipped with a smirk on his face.
"I am baking, if you must know."
"Baby, you know that the flour is supposed to go in the recipe, not on you, right?" Sebastian teased.
"YES! I am a little rusty at it, okay." Y/N fired back, half playing around, half a little frustrated at making the mess she did.
"Aww, turn towards me, let me see you."
Y/N turned towards him and saw the smile grow wider on his face. She launched into defending herself. "Stop, don't laugh. I turned the mixer up to high at first, and flour exploded well, everywhere." Embarrassment turning to pride, she followed, "Can you bake at all? No, I didn't think so!"
"Come here, darling, let's clean you up a little," he said while pulling her toward to sink and grabbing the roll of paper towels along the way. Sebastian wetted and then rung out a paper towel and started wiping off the flour on her cheeks and neck. The timer for the shortcake went off, and she rushed to grab the oven mitts and pull them out. It was steaming and just barely golden brown, absolutely perfect. She just hoped it tasted as good as it looked.
Sebastian finally asked, " Those look amazing. Can we dig in?"
Y/N quickly shouted, "No. First, they have to cool; then, I need to assemble them. Plus, I have to finish cutting the strawberries."
"Fine, I will wait then since it appears I have no other options." He resigned, kissing her on the cheek and walking off.
Forty-five minutes later, she had all the berries cut and the cakes out of the pans and ready to assemble. She was thoroughly enjoying herself at this point. The hard stuff was done. She just had to put cream and strawberries on them, and she would be done. She took her time enjoying the process of making everything look nice. Sebastian popped his head in through one of the openings and smiled at the delicious treat in front of him. The woman he had indeed come to admire and care for was standing in front of him with the most blissful smile entirely in her world, enjoying the task before her. He couldn't help himself. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a little squeeze and kiss on the neck. Goosebumps broke out over Y/N skin, and she smiled, saying, "Nice try, it still isn't ready. I need to put it in the fridge and let it chill."
"excuse me then he stated mockingly, opening his arms and allowing her to walk over to the fridge and place it inside. When she felt like it was safely on the shelf, she turned around to find Sebastian's finger extended towards her with a dollop of whipped cream on end and a dangerous smile on his lips. Y/N knew what he had in mind and felt her clit throb at the idea of it.
She sauntered over to him. When she was close enough, she slowly leaned forward and took his whole finger in her mouth, keeping her eyes on him the whole time. Sebastian's cock immediately throbbed at the look of her mouth wrapped so tightly around his finger. He couldn't keep himself from letting out a growl as he watched the sultry scene in front of him unfold. He pulled his finger from her mouth with and pop. Y/N scooped another dollop of whip cream, but instead of keeping it on her finger, she smeared it on her neck right below her ear. Y/N rolled her head to the side, allowing him more access to the sensitive spot. He placed soft kisses around the cream at first, taking her breathing to become sporadic, then he took just the very tip of his tongue and licked a thin stripe of the whipped cream. Y/N felt the wetness between her legs growing. Sebastian moved his hand to cup her jaw. He was kissing and licking up all of the sweetness from her neck. He started to bite and move from her neck to her jaw, then finally to her lips. He kissed her long and deep, his hand going into her hair. Her hands grabbing his shirt to keep herself upright. Sebastian grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head, and put a long line of the cream drown her chest right between each breast. He immediately dove in, licking and sucking the cream off. He then worked his way to each nipple, nipping, tugging, and massaging. Y/N moaned and let her head fall back.
Sebastian continued his assault, letting his fingers work at pulling off her shorts and panties. He slid a finger into her and felt how wet she was. He spread her legs with his knee, gave her another long kiss, then whispered, "Jump." She didn't hesitate and hopped up on the counter. "Good girl," he praised, watching her lean backward. The cool countertop made her hiss when her warm skin met it. Sebastian didn't waste another second. He fused his mouth to her center, licking and slurping up her juices. Y/N was arching off the countertop, digging her hands into his hair, trying to get him closer, and wanting to cum hard. He continued working at her clit, and Y/N could feel the knot in her stomach start to tighten. Sebastian finally slid a finger in her making sure she was ready, then slid in another. Y/N was a moaning mess on the counter, desperately trying to get Sebastian to go deeper. Finally finding her voice, she begged, "Please ... need you... in me." Sebastian was more than happy to oblige, stripping out of his jeans and crawling over her on the counter. He slowly pushed into her, making both of them moan at the pleasurable sensation. He started thrusting and could tell she was very close, but today he wanted to cum with her simultaneously. He saw the bowl of cream and dipped his finger in again, thrusting into Y/N hard and fast. He could feel her tightening around him, squeezing every inch. Y/N was sure there would be marks from her nails in Sebastian's shoulder with how hard she was holding on to him. Sebastian whispered in her ear, " Open, darling," and she did. She started sucking off his finger as he pumped in and out of her. The sight of her sucking his finger with her tight lips and his cock being squeezed pushed him over the edge. They both came at the same time, creating a unison of moans and cries. Sebastian slowly pumped once more than looked down at the beautiful woman below him. She had the slightest signs of perspiration starting on her hairline and had a blush on her cheeks. He leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead, whispering, "Come on, darling, let get you all cleaned up."
"I think I will take over that task for you," Chris said, leaning against the wall with the strain of his cock pressing against his shorts. "What do you say, princess? Up for another round because you right now are the sexiest thing I have ever seen."
Y/n was embarrassed at first, but upon hearing him and seeing how turned on he was, she giggled and nodded.
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Summary: Bucky comes to visit Sam and you, his childhood best friend and roommate, but fails to tell you that he’s there. An embarrassing moment becomes a door of opportunity...
Relationship: TFATWS!Bucky x black!reader
Warnings: WELP...S M U T, AU, mentions of nudity, exchange of fluids, graphic language, unprotected sex, rough sex, angst, blah blah 18+
A/N: soooooo this wasn’t supposed to happen but AAAAYYYYEEEE FIRST BUCKY STORY ✨✨✨ this is @afriendlyblackhottie fault we talked about this last night and it was still on my mind this morning and BAM nasty fic starring Bucky with mentions of Sam. Totally random. Totally unplanned buuuuut enjoy!
Four a.m. and there’s a commotion of sorts going down in the living room. Flinging your eyelids open with a groan, you aren’t frightened because it’s just Sam coming in from doing his crime fighting thing. He never comes in quietly, just straight up fuck your sleep when he’s tossing his shit down like this is normal hours. You do your best to adjust to his newfound fame, his super hero lifestyle but there are times you feel like Sam takes advantage of your ordinary citizen normalcy. Yes you keep unusual hours and are a chill ass person, but if Sam wasn’t like a brother to you, you would have kicked him out by now. Also he’s in and out a lot so it wasn’t like he’s a total bother. You’re just dumb tired, dying for at least five hours of sleep.
“Sam!” You shout out into the dark, flopping onto your back. You literally just fell asleep after a shitty night at work.
“Sorry!” He shouts back wincing then cuts his eyes at the sofa. “Man you gotta be quiet.” He whispers over to Bucky who’s tiredly tossing his boots down by his backpack.
“Relax,” Bucky yawns, dismissing Sam with an eye roll, “YN just barely went to sleep.”
“Yeah and I don’t want her comin in here and cussin me out because you’re being too damn loud.” Sam whisper-shouts back at him coming from the kitchen with water, tossing one over to Bucky before he grabs his bag and keys.
“Probably should have just told her that I was coming.” He shrugs with a sigh, unbuttoning his black denim jeans and shoving them down to his ankles before he plops back down on the sofa to kick them off.
You should come cuss Sam out for not giving you a proper heads up about his spur of the moment visit. Oh Bucky’s well aware of your attitude, being on the receiving end of it in the past. It’s a funny story now, but at the time not so much. Bucky coming in through the patio door late one night while you were hooking up with some strange guy on the sofa. Welcomed by a scream and an aluminum bat flying towards his face, Bucky blocked your powerful swing with his metal arm. Denting the bat then snatching it from you. You went off for a good ten minutes, to him and then to Sam who walked out of his room sleepy and confused. And it’ll happen once again in the morning when you find him on the couch because Sam is going to forget. Watch.
“I’ll shoot her a text later. I gotta go to some briefing at the Capitol so I won’t be back for a few days.” Sam informs Buck, heading for the front door but stops and turns back to suggest, “Just...don’t do your thing.” Bucky frowns, unsure of what he means by that. “And don’t push her buttons. I’ve known her since I was like seven man, and she has had the same short fuse since.”
Fluffing the pillows on the couch Bucky settles in, turning his back to Sam, ready for sleep as well. “I know, I know,” he grumbles closing his eyes. “Get out of here before you miss your flight.”
But Sam never sent you that text. Ten a.m. rolls around and you start to wake, annoyed that the sun is shining so brightly directly in your face. There isn’t enough sleep in the world. Rolling away from the sun’s beautiful rays, you grimace and groan some more. Your usual morning mood until you eventually roll out from under your sheets, yawning and queuing up your morning meditation. Doing your routine, still no text from Sam, you are completely oblivious to Bucky even being in your apartment. Walking to and from your bedroom and the bathroom in nothing but your lady boxer briefs, headphones in and volume up like any ordinary day. You vaguely remember Sam saying something about being back in DC so when the roomie’s away...you take advantage of the freedom.
Bucky could never sleep, no matter how badly he needed it, it was almost impossible. The most he got today’s about two hours. Lying with his eyes closed still, he listens to the patter of your bare feet across the hardwood floors, humming to yourself as you get ready to start your day. Deep down, he has a feeling Sam forgot to give you a heads up, so he isn’t too sure of what to do. Should he just wake up and run the risk of getting yelled at for Sam’s mistake OR should he just lie there and hope you’re getting ready to leave without seeing him? He hears a door close and assumes you’re back in your room. Popping his lids open, Bucky groggily turns over with a long yawn and stretch, then scratches his scruffy chin. God he hates the morning. Bucky didn’t care for a lot...but he cared about you, more than you know. He was already excited about coming to see Sam since it’s been a while but when he found out he was going to be gone for a few days, leaving you alone with him, Bucky really couldn’t wait to see you. He always thought you were cute as hell, but when you nearly clocked him with that bat? His infatuation only grew. He only barely mentioned it to Sam once and he lost it, so grossed out by the idea; it almost offended Bucky how outlandish he was about it.
“Aw c’mon Buck! She’s like my sister man!”
“But...she’s not your sister.”
“Aht! Don’t even think about it Buck. For real. Don’t.”
Heaving a tired sigh, Bucky rubs his eyes and starts to wonder what you’re up to in your room.
The last chime goes off on your meditation as you slowly open your eyes and take one last deep breath, feeling calm and at peace. You pop up off the floor with a grin, stretching your arms so high up in the air. Time for your favorite part of the day: coffee. Opening your Spotify you shuffle your morning playlist and walk out of your room with a little dance in your step, singing along as you beeline for the kitchen. Bucky bucks his eyes up at you entering the room and his jaw damn near hits the floor. Surprised gaze sweeping up your smooth cocoa butter legs to your cute ass perfectly accentuated by the tight cotton material, your tits flouncing as you shimmy, Bucky can’t believe his fuckin eyes. You soooo didn’t get that message from Sam. Bucky’s soooo about to get cussed out when you finally see him. Your music’s so loud even Buck could hear as he sits up, the blanket falling off his naked torso. Whatever you’re listening to is your jam. Bobbing your head and rolling your shoulders you lip sync along, scooping coffee grounds into a filter. He can’t fight back the cheesy smile spreading over his face. All the blood rushing to his dick growing rapidly in his own black boxer briefs you two practically match besides the sweet golden honey hue of your skin. The morning sun spotlighting you as you giggle and sing to yourself. Alerting you now would be pointless so might as well enjoy the show...? Leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, Bucky rubs at his chin, debating how to get your attention when you’re this exposed to him. And unknowingly too. There’s no easy way out of this one.
You bounce over to the fridge on your tip toes, giving Bucky a full display of them thangs thangin while you’re still doin your cluelessly enjoying yourself. The cool fridge air perking up your nips as you reach for the creamer. The blanket falls to the floor as Bucky stands to get a better view of your ass poking out from behind the door. Spinning around you slam the door close, noticing a figure standing there on your second turn. You scream and toss the coffee creamer up in the air, arms flinging towards your chest to cover yourself. Bucky slightly winces at the volume of your shrill, hands up, ready to explain. Coffee creamer hits the floor with a noisy splat but fuck the mess. You’ve been performing, practically naked, for Bucky for about five minutes! Embarrassed is an understatement!
“BUCKY!! WHAT THE FUCK!”
“Sam was supposed to text you.”
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE!! OH MY GOD!”
“I came to visit?”
“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD. WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING?!”
“Didn’t know how?”
“I’M GOING TO MURDER THAT ASSHOLE SAM!”
You roar as you run off to your room, slamming the door shut behind you. Leaving Bucky completely tomato red and alone with coffee creamer all over the kitchen. He should do you the favor and clean that up. Maybe cook you some breakfast too.
Livid and fuming, you snatch your robe off the back of you door and dial Sam. Fuck a Captain America. Fuck a breach of security or protocol or whatever the fuck super heroes do. This motherfucker was going to answer. Sam’s marching down some hallway with senators when your ninth grade yearbook picture come up on his screen. Already kicking himself in the ass the second your name pops up, Sam excuses himself to take the call. Wrenching his eyes closed, hoping you won’t be screaming, he answers softly,
“FUCK THAT. WHAT THE FUCK SAM?! YOU CAN’T SEND ONE GODDAMN TEXT MESSAGE?!”
Bucky snickers to himself hunched over the spilled cream. Sam massages his forehead in shame.
“I forgot. I forgot I am so sorry YN.”
“FORGOT?! HOW COULD YOU FORGET TO TELL ME BUCKY IS HERE IN MY APARTMENT SAM. MY APARTMENT.”
Looking over his shoulder for anyone passing by Sam turns down the volume on his phone.
“Looklooklook, I know I messed up sis but you gotta calm down. Did you meditate this morning?”
He’s trying to be cute but it isn’t the time. You inhale so deep your chest expands. “Sam shut the fuck up or so help me God.”
“Okay, okay! Not the time for jokes, I get it. What happened?”
But you’re still so embarrassed you can’t even find the words to tell him. “It’s just—it’s—,” you facepalm your forehead with a mighty smack already wishing you could forget it. “He...just scared me. That’s all...”
Sam side eyes you through the phone. “...you sure?”
You drop the phone from your ear and grunt. You can’t tell him this. Not yet anyway. Maybe when the terror of it all subsides.
“Yes, just...shoot me a fuckin text asshole! I know you’re fuckin Cap and all, but you still need to respect my space dude!”
“You’re right, you’re right. That’s my bad sis.” He’s just grateful you’re done screaming. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
But fuck his promise. You roll your eyes and snark, “uh huh sure,” before hanging up the phone and chunking it at your bed. Your head’s pounding, skin burning up. Anxiety on a million you drop down to the balls of your feet and hug yourself, wishing this feeling away. You can’t believe Bucky sat there the whole time just watching you make a fool of yourself like that. Replaying everything you were doing you shake your head and whine, feeling like a total asshat. Then you remember there’s creamer everywhere, that Bucky’s in your living room in nothing but his tags and underwear, and that maybe...just maybe...you saw a boner? That has you standing at attention, squinting, trying to jog your memory but Bucky knocking at your door startles you out of your deep thinking.
He felt inclined to apologize even though this was mostly Sam’s fault. All he had to do was send a “Bucky’s here” message. Takes less than a minute. Even he knows that and he hates cell phones. He didn’t mean to scare you like that either or just creepily watch you dance around half naked. Bucky was in a compromising situation. And you looked so damn sexy. You crack the door open.
“Yes?” You’ve calmed down some. Besides it wasn’t completely his fault. Bucky confidently stood out in the hall, still in his underwear, and you can’t help but give him a quick look over. Never seeing this much of him before you notice how beefy and insanely ripped he is. Wishing there was a tattoo across his chest. His metal arm propped along your door frame. You’ve always seen him Sam’s weirdo super hero buddy who loves knives but goddamn. Bucky’s super hot. Like dumb hot you take a hard swallow
“Um...” His greyish blue eyes that are usually so harsh can barely look you in the face, Buck still a little pink under his scruff. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know how to make it stop.”
He looks just as embarrassed as you, head down and voice all low. Suddenly feeling bad you open the door up some more with a sigh. Bucky was already going through it with all the therapy and debugging you could tell he meant it.
“Ugh it’s okay Bucky. I probably should be more aware of my surroundings but I really thought I was all alone. I’m sorry I yelled at you like that.” You lean your head against the edge of the door and shrug. “Sam’s a dummy sometimes.”
You two grin together, even chuckle a little, and Bucky picks his chin up. Peering up at you through his lashes his softness makes you swoon a little.
“Yeah I had a feeling he would forget. I got in at a weird hour and he had a flight to catch it was just a shit show. I should have said something.”
“Hey. C’mon. It’s fine. It’s good to see you anyway Buck.”
Letting go of the door, you open your arms out to him. Let bygones be bygones. Besides how could you not want to take advantage of this moment to hug a half naked Bucky. Even he perks up, enthusiastic to hold you after seeing so much of you so many minutes ago. In a way, you did kind of miss him. It had been way too long since his last visit and even then you barely got to talk since they had business to take care of. You guys embrace each other tightly, like two long lost friends do...who are also needy and pining for one another. Who had just seen each other half naked. His scruffy cheek scratching your soft skin as he nuzzles and squeezes you tighter. You close your eyes the hug is so good. Bucky’s skin so damn warm but with the contrasting cool of his metal hand soothing up and down your spine, a shiver quakes all over you. An alarm it’s time to let go.
“Uh I cleaned up the mess.” He smirks bashfully as you guys part, thinking about how hilarious it was to see it go flying like that. You can’t help but laugh about it too.
“Oh shit, you didn’t have to do that Buck.” You giggle as you guys walk to the kitchen. Not only did he clean up but he also started to cook. Eggs and pancake mix out on the counter by the stove you are stuck.
“Also I felt so bad I started making breakfast.” You’re already smiling so wide, placing a hand on your chest when you see your cup of coffee already waiting next to a bowl of strawberries. Oh, all is definitely forgiven with Bucky. You love anyone who is willing to cook for you, especially a fine ass man. Hell you didn’t even know he knew how to cook. Like the gentleman he is, Bucky pulls your chair out for you to sit then heads to the stove to flip pancakes.
You’ve got the best seat in the house; feet propped up in a neighboring chair, you relax and drink your coffee, watching Bucky’s back flex and move as he silently cooks. He doesn’t want to talk, just wants to feel your smitten gaze on his muscles. As you pop strawberry halves in your mouth, you tilt and cock your head, wondering all sorts of things about Bucky that you shouldn’t. How was he so fuckin big? And how was that ass so perfectly toned and round? Did you see his boner earlier? And was he fuckin anyone with it? Sam would hate the idea of you messing around with Bucky but this has really got you thinking.
“How long are you here for Bucky?” You ask as you cut your pancakes in little syrupy triangles. The silence left you with your loud thoughts you have to talk about something. You weren’t expecting much when it comes to his food but those first couple of bites had you sighing and dancing in your seat. Seriously thought when did he learn how to cook?!
“Not too sure honestly. Planned on a few days but I’m waiting to see what Sam comes back with from DC. Maybe help him out a for a bit.” Which gives him a few more days alone with you. With how things are going, he might really enjoy himself. And you just might too. Bucky can’t help but smirk as he watches you sway with your eyes closed with every bite you take. Looks like watching cooking shows when he’s bored is paying off.
“Can I just say...holy shit by the way.” You sigh with your mouth full of food, chasing sweet bread down with a sip of coffee. “This is the best breakfast I’ve had in such a long time.” You had to give your compliments to the chef who just modestly grins to himself, licking his sticky lips wishing he could lick yours clean. Your robe slipping off your shoulder, exposing your collarbone. Bucky’s metal fingertips rub together as he bites his lip.
“Thanks,” he damn near moans too focused on wanting to kiss you right above your protruding bone. God he wanted to taste you, touch you. “You should really try them with fruit. They’re even better.”
Feeling Bucky’s eyes burn a hole in your right shoulder has your eyes fluttering open, still swallowing bits of pancake. You could feel your breaths gets heavier, quicker, the more you kept eye contact with him. His teeth dragging over his bottom lip. The energy between you two so electric it could start a fire. Eyeing his metal hand fidgeting against the table stirs you up, trailing your eyes up the shiny silvery vibranium until you fall back into his hungry gaze all over again.
“Yeah?” Your eyebrow quirks with a smirk, “let me see...”
Somehow he catches your drift and his metal hand drops into the bowl in the middle of the table as you rise up out of the chair, leaning over to meet his metal fingers cradling a strawberry just for your sweet pouty lips. Bucky’s other hand grips the edge of the table so hard it splinters as he dips his smooth fingertips over your bottom lip, the strawberry tumbling onto your tastebuds. His jaw slacks with a silent “ah” as you suck on his metal fingers a bit. Your mouth waters as you moan longingly, chewing and swallowing all the contents dissolving on your tongue, holding his smolder.
“Mm you’re right Buck,” you thumb away a little drool from the corner of your lips. “It’s definitely better...a little sweeter even...” You land a tiny lick against his lingering metal fingers with a dark chuckle then bite your lip. Bucky’s heart fuckin drops into the floor. Sorry Sam.
“Fuck get over here.” He gasps out, metal hand grabbing you by the nape and dragging you up onto the table as you clear dishes out the way, knocking your chair down as your scramble up to meet Bucky’s open wet mouth. Lips collide with desperate groans. The sweet sticky residue of maple syrup dance on your tongues snaked together. Your squeal muffled as Bucky picks you up and plops you back down on his edge of table, ripping your robe open just so he can kiss and suck right over your collarbone like he wanted.
“Oh fuck Bucky.” You cry out, panting as he sloppily kisses down your chest to your rock hard nipples, biting so hard but then soothing the aching pain with a juicy kiss. “Oh my god!” Your hips go to jerk up off the table but he firmly holds you down.
“Mm you don’t know oh my god yet hun.” Bucky smirks up at you as he falls to his knees and you could almost cum based off that image alone. Big bad Bucky bowing down, clawing and jerking your underwear off your thighs, then tossing them to the side. He snatches you closer to his drooling lips breaking his stare on your excited awed face to adore your burning wet folds, spreading your legs as wide as they could go. For a moment he just shakes his head, softly growling to himself before he latches on, sinking his fat tongue so deep inside your fluttering hole. Without hesitation you lock a hand on the back of his head. A wild moan filling the air.
“Hooooollllyyyyyyy shiiiiiit Buck...” your legs spasm, your hips rock against his tongue that spears and circles your weeping pussy and you are fuckin losing your mind. He couldn’t be more pleased with how uninhibited your moans and whimpers are, how soft and needy your begs sound. Neither of you really understood how you guys got here but thank god you did. Bucky eating you out like your his most important meal of the day. Shit, of his fuckin life.
“God you taste so fuckin good.” Mumbles Bucky, face an absolute pretty mess as he slips three cool metal fingers inside your dripping hole. He didn’t care if you can handle them or not. He just couldn’t wait to see his cock stretch you out but the sight of your wetness oozing trails down his shiny hand makes his dick ache. He can’t wait to still smell you days later. “Such a pretty pussy...” he laps at your sensitive clit, “so fuckin pretty around my fingers hun...” He laps at you again then rapidly rolls the pad of his thumb over it. You slap a flat hand where Bucky’s strong grip has already split the table.
“Oh fuck!” You gasp then groan, convulsing from the spontaneous teases on your swollen clit. His fingers swiftly fucking you. Even his knuckles stroking your fluttering walls made you crumble. Just made you wonder what the fuck his dick game is like. “Oh my god Bucky please...”
Bucky slams his hand three times against your throbbing slit then asks, “please what? Use your words like a big girl.” He demands landing wet kisses and bites along your inner thigh, swirling his fingers around preparing to stretch you out his monster of a cock. Your head drops back with an exhausted huff, meeting his strokes with tremoring hips; your mewls and pathetic whines are music to his ears. How can you answer him when you can’t even find your breath? Looking up your body Bucky notices you’re nearing your peak and takes his hand away with a sinister laugh.
“I’m still waiting YN.” He murmurs standing, lifting you head up so he can slide his soiled fingers over your tongue hanging down over your chin. Sucking his metal fingers all warm and wet from your pussy, Bucky knocks his forehead against yours and moans loudly in your face. Who would have known you two would have hit it off like this? Feed off each other’s energy like this. The next few days will be...absolutely insane. He could make you cum forever. Once he feels like you’ve cleaned him well, Bucky slowly drags his fingers from between your puffy lips awaiting your answer. Kissing his worn lips that smell and taste like you, you whisper you’re wants to him.
“I want you to fuck me Bucky,” you snake a hand up his nape into his soft shaggy hair, “I want you to fuck me into this table.”
He rubs his aching cock as you softly confess, the two of you smiling and playing with each other’s lips. Damn Buck’s got you actin an ass and you don’t hate it. Nipping at his skin and licking your drying juices off his rough chin. You wouldn’t hate to keep throwing it at Bucky...if he can fuck you right. He sighs a laugh pulling away from you, lopsided and mischievous still working his dick.
“Alright.” That metal hand pushes you down into the surface with a muted thud then yanks you towards his pelvis, spanking you so hard with his special hand your pussy squirts a little. Bucky’s obsessed. “Fuck she’s ready for me...”
You squirm and whimper, groaning his name over and over, begging for him to get inside of you. Teasing you by circling his head all over your wet folds with a dastardly smile.
“Jesus Bucky...what the...” but he shuts up your persistent whining by slamming his meaty cock inside your burning walls. Shuddering and powerfully groaning out to the ceiling, Bucky stills, closing his eyes for a minute as you take a sharp inhale, overwhelmed with how full he makes you feel. Pulling out slowly, just so he can feel every ripple of your pussy, Bucky sighs your name...then snaps every inch of his big dick back inside of you as you shout and praise his name. Holding onto you by your feeble hips, he arches your lower back and bangs you out. Every beefy muscle in his body flexed and veiny Bucky fucks you like he’s using you to jerk himself off. And you fuckin can’t get enough of it. Grabbing ahold of his metal arm, you let Bucky take you, shouting and moaning as loud as you want. The table scooting noisily over the floor each time he makes contact with your spurting slit.
“That’s right hun.” Bucky growls lowly behind a clenched jaw, dying to hold out but struggling because you feel just that fuckin good to him. “Tell everyone who’s fuckin the shit out of you.”
A madman. A super soldier. A goddamn saint.
“Fuckin you so good you can’t even speak hm? Too bad...I really wanna hear that smart ass mouth.”
You’re nothing but soft groans and growls, fucked out and just about ready to combust all over Bucky talking mad shit and fucking you senseless. The table splits some more. It’s okay because Buck’s got you and you’re so fuckin close he can’t wait.
“C’mon pretty girl...cum for me...” his jaw drops as your walls squeeze, “oh that’s it...that’s it hun.”
Your ears ring. Your chest’s so tight. If it wasn’t for Bucky brushing his thumb over your clit, you thought you would have passed out but finally, you let go and it’s like everything left your body. He moans with you as you cum, still inserting his way through your contracting walls pushing his throbbing dick out. His impacts get stiffer. Crack. More punctuated. Crack. You can’t push him away.
“Buck!” You croak, limbs still stuttering from your climax.
Another determined hit and—
Bucky rests his tired body on the counter, securely wrapping his strong arms across your back, still releasing his load into your creamy pussy. Laughing, completely out of breath, he looks at the broken table in the middle of the kitchen floor. You’re barely on this earth to even worry about your table being partially torn. You gave a soldier instructions. He gladly completed the mission. Whatever casualties you picked up along the way so be it. Your chests combat one another for oxygen as you loosen your hold around his neck to look up at him.
“Sorry about that.” He shoots you a tired smile and it’s swoon worthy. Bucky’s even prettier all worn out and flushed, droopy lids and a silly smirk. Admiring that handsome face you caress you prickly cheek.
“Don’t worry about it.” You land a sweet peck on his pretty lips then snuggle the bridge of his nose. “You were just fulfilling a fantasy.”
Chuckling together, you and Bucky fall into another open mouth make our session as he carries you to your room, gently placing you down on your bed.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” He mumbles against your wet lips. You just shake your head with a warm smile.
“I got all I need right now Buck...”
Right then, Sam’s irritating ringtone comes singing from your pillows. Bucky begs you not to answer but you can’t do that, especially when Captain America is your roommate.
“What.” You bite through the phone, annoyed he’s interrupting but a small giggle falls from your lips. Bucky’s rubbing his scruffy cheeks into your neck. Instantly, Sam’s suspicious.
“Why do you sound weird? Where’s Bucky?”
You try to shrug your way out of his hold. “Bucky? Ummm...” But he bites your arm and you yelp and giggle some more, mouthing him to stop. “Bucky’s out. Went to the store or something.”
Sam squints at the screen. He knows when you’re lying. “Right. Well I’m just checkin in...making sure you two are getting along okay...”
As Sam talks, you watch Bucky trail his cool fingertips down your stomach down between your thighs, just to spin them around your clit. His dick coming to life inside you as you warm to him. You hum a chuckle, those light greyish blue eyes peepin up at you wondering why you’re still on the phone.
“Yeah Sam. We’re getting along just fine.”
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More Than Enough
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You had a bad day, but Bucky is there to help.
Word Count: 500
Warnings: Fluff, comfort, feels, reader had a bad day, Bucky Barnes being a sweetheart (yeah, that's a warning!)
A/N: No one asked for this short piece, but today wasn't great and I hope any lovely having a bad day finds some comfort in this. You are more than enough!!!❤️❤️❤️
Written on my phone and not beta read, so any and all mistakes are my absolutely my own. Comments, likes, reblogs and asks are appreciated. ❤️
I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, my writing schedule and updates there.
I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here or archiveofourown under my same username, it has been reposted without my permission. 18+ Please!!! By reading this, you agree that you are at least 18 years old. Enjoy, lovelies!
"Bad day, doll?"
Bucky wasn't used to seeing you like this. You told him more than once that having bad days helped you appreciate the good days. Still, watching you go right to the bedroom after barely speaking or touching your dinner, he internally panicked.
"I'm fine," you answered with false cheer, your smile tired. It was a look that didn't belong on your beautiful face. Everyone had bad days, but you didn't have to fake being okay with him.
"That's not what I asked."
"Yeah, it was… kind of a bad day," you admitted carefully. "Actually, you know what? It was a shitty, fucking day."
His eyes didn't leave you as you shifted in the bed, seeing the slight shake in your hand as you wiped your eyes. Even without his enhanced hearing, he would have heard the shuddering breath you let out. He knew you were still trying to hide how upset you were as the room fell silent. Who knew the former Winter Soldier could be frightened by the sight of your tears?
The lump in his throat formed before he could stop it, swallowing it down. Anger twisted in his guy within seconds because who had the fucking balls to make you feel that way? Who had the nerve to make you cry? He had to blink away the rage because it wouldn't comfort you.
Wordlessly, he crossed the room to stretch out beside you. It took a moment for you to roll over, your eyes brimming with fresh tears. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek as you moved close and buried your face in his neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he held you with more care than most people believed a former assassin could.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Why?" you mumbled as he began to rub your back.
"That you had a bad day," he replied, turning his head to kiss the top of yours. "What can I do?"
Part of him was glad you didn't see his face because he couldn't hide his guilt. The fact that he had to ask you how to make you feel better? What did that say about him?
"You holding me and being here is enough," you said with such sincerity that his heart twisted. How was he enough for you?
"You're enough," he whispered. "Do you know that?"
You sniffled, shifting a bit closer. "I am?"
"Yeah, you are. And… you're allowed to have bad days. It's more than okay," he added, cringing slightly. Was he making it worse?
"...Can you keep talking?" you asked in a small voice.
"I can do that."
"Maybe a story?" you suggested, your voice a bit lighter.
"I've been saving a good one."
"Yeah? What story is that?"
"How I fell in love with you."
He smiled when he felt your lips against his neck. You were smiling, too. It was small, but it was there and real. "I think I'm going to like this story."
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He got that face and you knew he was pissed, sometimes it was better to leave Bucky alone and he would come to you eventually, tells whats bothering him and you resolve the issue, you were in the middle of an Avengers meeting, Steve talking everyone else listening like always, Wanda smile looking at you and went arounnd the table with your eyes hoping to find what was making him so angry, you were sitting beside him so you grab his hand trying to get his atention, he grab it and press a little giving you a small smile, at least he wasnt pissed with you
- what is making so angry....
- oh cyborg here is jealous of the spider boy
- plz tell me Sam is joking...
- well why he has to bring you to his graduation, I mean doesnt he has a girlfriend of his own age to bother instead taking MINE - you were so used to by now listening to Bucky holding that ownership in things and people, like Steve as his best friend or you as his girlfriend that only made you smile
- oh Buck really!!?? I thought you would be jealous of Steve or maybe I dont know Thor or maybe Sam... but Peter.... Im offended
- I'm the one that has to see his girlfriend being eyed by that creep all the time he is around and you are offended
- I dont understand how is it that didnt do anything about it..
- I mean yeah like if it's bothering so much... why you didnt tell Peter yet that I Am yours, god knows that if any of the new female recrutes gets closer to you I make sure they know you are mine
- I dont have any doubt about that doll
- then can you stay put and trust me you have nothing to be jealous about
- not from you obviously but he should know
- alright... let me tak to him first... after all he is like a surrogate brother, Peter walk outside the meeting room in the moment Bucky kissed you and he saw him and got the oportunity to make sure Peter knew, you just smile in the kiss with your realising what Bucky was doing
- really?... and me thinking you were kissing me because you like me..
-I love you, thats why I will keep doing it...- Steve called him and he half turn looking at hia friend...
- go... and for the record I love you too grumpy man - Bucky tried to hide his smile and Wanda go closer to you
- so the soldier and you...
- oh Wanda come on... you can read minds....
- yeah and I think you better talk to your surrogated brother and leave things clear - you just nod and you didnt say anything before bcause you thought it was a phase of a teenage boy and eventually he would get a gf of his age his school but he liked you and you did too but now in the same way
- hey you...
- hey y/n ...I was wondering if my graduation ball still stand...
- oh... do you still want to go with me... I thought you would want to take MJ or any other girl from school...
- is it because of Bucky?
- Peter... Bucky and I... we are together and we love eachother... I know Im hurting you right now... but is necessary you heard it from me... I know how important my dad is for you and how much he roots for you but you are like a brother to me and you know thats all is going to be...- he nod - I dont want you to be sad... I just think your graduation is a very important part of your life and you need to enjoy it with someone special - he was going to talk and you stoped him - and I know is not me
- do you think MJ would say yes?
- of course...
- your dad is organizing an after party for it... would you be there...with Bucky....
- I will but I'll make sure I save a dance for you
- that would be nice...
- good...- Happy aproched to them telling Tony was looking for the kid and Peter blush and you smile...
- go... dont make the old man waitting to much
- I heard you...- Tony sand from inside the lab
- Im your daughter and Im reatching my 30s, you are old - Tony rolled his eyes and Peter laugh getting inside the lab, after that talk both of you felt more light
Bucky dressed up to a black suit with a black under shirt he looked so amazing you had problems paying attention to anything else that night
- you know I'm having trouble paying attention to anything else than you on that green dress doll
- I know the feeling - Bucky smile and secure his left arm around your waist, you felt so loved and workship by him you were shinning and everyone could see it
- hey Peter... are you enjoying your night?
- is actually pretty great.... did you tell him about the dance?
- what dance...
- oh I promised a dance to Peter now that he chose to bring MJ to prom
- am I suposed to dance with MJ?
- if you want...- Bucky knew you were making fun of him smiling like that and he let go of you but not without kissing your lips making sure Peter knew where you belong
- dont worry Im good... I dont really dance... you actually look perfect together...
- excuse me?
- y/n and you... you seem perfect, you move together, you rotate like earth around the sun and is confortable to watch
- how old are you? - Bucky was kind of stunt by that girl
- yeah some people think I am older than I am really... Im just waiser than most people
- endeed you are kid - Wanda aproached to Bucky asking for a dance, eventually you returned to his arms and you smile hugging yourself to him, kissing his neck, Bucky smile kissing your naked shoulder...- I really want to rip this dress out of you...
-plz dont do it in front of everyone
-I wouldnt dare Steve would have a heart attack, he is too old
- you are as old as him... but you look so hot and sexy right now...
- lets get out of here... - you smile allowing Bucky to walk you out to the private living quaters in the compound
His kiss shut you out and you coudln't think of anything else but his hands and lips on you, that power he has on you since the day he'd arrived to the compound the friendship with Steve and the chemistry you both had since day one, it took a long time for him to trust you and them came love and passion and those feelings run deep in you for Bucky, and you knew his were the same for you, some would say it was a weakness but you were partners and that made you stronger always together
- are you still jealous....
- no....- his forehead rest into yours and hugged you close to him - you are my forever y/n
- and you are my everything Buck...- he kissed your forehead and tried to get some sleep feeling sure you would guard his dreams and prevent to become nightmares
This idea of Bucky being jealous of Peter's crush on y/n I had to write about it
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my savior (2)
summary || taking the offer you you begin working for bucky. though, later he has to save you again
pairing || mafia!bucky x female!reader
warnings || creepy guys again (briefly)
note || i wasn’t going to make a second chapter, but i have more inspiration for this
should i make a part 3?
requests are open <3
please don’t steal my work!
It was noisy. Bass echoed throughout the club. The white shirt you wore was tight against you, and the black skirt you wore was slightly shorter than you wanted it to be. You kept pulling at the collar of your white shirt as if to stretch it out.
Your job was easy. All you had to do was serve drinks and occasionally work behind the bar. You ran into the man that saved you occasionally, but you still didn’t know who he was. Most people seemed scared of him often bowing their heads out of fear.
He on the other hand already knew who you were. He had Sam research you to check if you were dangerous. Someone as powerful- as Bucky who owned almost the whole city- he needs to make sure a rival didn’t send a spy in.
You were cleaning up the bar that was off in the back. When the door opened in the front. You could see people stepping aside for what you could only assume was him. His entourage followed behind him as they descended up the stairs that were nestled in the corner.
Your eyes followed his broad frame as he disappeared. You couldn’t help, but have a slight attraction to the man. Who wouldn’t though? With his charming personality and handsome looks, he could practically have any girl. You’ve seen firsthand how women just drop to his feet.
“Y/n they’re requesting you,” your co-worker Natasha turned to you. The two of you became friends rather quickly.
“Dunno, the boss just asked for you though,” Natasha’s red locks framed her face as she shook her head.
Walking up the dingy stairs you could hear the chatter above grow louder. You didn’t know that the whole upper level was a giant casino till you entered. People cheered happily as they took the money they had just won. Guards were stationed all around. In the back of plush sofas, you saw him sitting with several other people. Only one you ￼recognized￼. A man who wore an expensive suit with messy hair. Tony Stark, the famous billionaire.
Walking up to them was hard enough. You could feel a bundle of nerves rise in your throat as they turned to you.
“Who is this,” Tony tossed an arm over you. You could see him giving Tony a look you couldn’t place.
“That’s Y/n,” Bucky stood up and gently pulled you to his side. Tony just sat down again a smile on his face.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“No,” Bucky’s voice was sharp as he slowly let go of you.
“Mmm,” Sam hummed a content smirk on his face as Bucky looked at him. Anger raging in his blue eyes.
“Well Bucky this has been fun, but I must go,” Tony had suddenly got up and was heading towards the door, a woman draped on his arm.
So his names Bucky.
“Don’t forget about my offer!” Tony yelled across the room as he disappeared with the woman.
Nervously you placed one foot in front of the other, “Can I get you all something to drink?” They must have forgotten you were there because all eyes turned towards you.
As they rattled off their orders Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave your figure. His gaze was intense and unwavering. The way back towards the bar was darker than it originally was on the way up.
The club was even more crowded than before. As you waited for Nat to hand you all the drinks you felt someone slid next to you.
“Can I buy you a drink?” A gravely voice rumbled deep next to you.
Your body went still. Not turning towards the man you swiftly replied, “No thank you.”
“She said no, you idiot.” Bucky stood behind you. Anger clear as day on his face. The man went running off in fear. Your eyes met his ocean blue ones as you silently thanked him he was there.
“You always need saving don’t you?”
“Apparently,” your body relaxed as Bucky chuckled deeply.
“Well I’m glad I’m your savior then.”
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For the Record - Chapter 5 preview.
I still have a few parts to fill out and edit, but I got a “GOOD LORD WOMAN” when my friend read it, so here’s a quick preview. I’m hoping to get it up sometime this weekend.
As with the entire series, this is rated Explicit, 18+ only. If you’re a minor, please do not interact.
At the restaurant, Bucky requested a booth towards the back of the house, away from the small crowd of other customers. One of the curved booths. Both of you sat towards the middle. It seemed like an odd choice until after you put your orders in and his hand was on your thigh. You look up at him and he looks at you and kisses your cheek as if nothing was happening under the table.
“How was work?” He sips his water with one hand, the one on your thigh inching up, massaging the skin.
You clear your throat, trying to keep any other sounds at bay. Your skin was on fire. “Work was good.” His hand dips underneath your dress, massaging your inner thigh.
“Tell me about it,” his voice is low and husky. Besides a playful glint in his eyes, his face is giving away nothing, it’s completely calm and straight.
“N-nothing special,” your voice falters as his fingers start playing with the edge of your panties. “Mostly cataloging.” His hand quickly moves from under your dress back to your thigh down by your knee. You look up and see the waitress approaching with your food. How is he able to keep so calm and aware? He thanks the waitress; all you can offer is a weak smile.
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Marvel fans deserved Stucky.
Change my mind, I dare you.
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summary bucky always has a soft spot for his girl.
pairing biker!bucky x reader
warnings biker!bucky, brief implied violence and blood, fluff, pet names.
a/n have a nice day/night <3 not my gif
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Bucky would avoid letting his guard down as much as possible. Concessions and forgiveness would never help you in bikers world and he knew that better than anyone. He was known to be tough and strict, and he was keeping up with the reputation most of the time.
“You take care of him.” he said to Steve, still looking at the man, laying on the floor in his own blood. Steve nodded slowly and Bucky walked away, ignoring his blood stained knuckles.
Tough and strict.
Except when he was around you.
You and Bucky were as different as you could be. You were the nicest person he has ever met. You were polite to everyone, even to him, a gang leader. You were always gentle with him. You would never pressure him or hurt him. You really cared about him. You were simply just good while Bucky was just, well, Bucky.
“You are sure that this is safe, right, Bucky?” you looked at him with a worried frown between your eyebrows and he chuckled. He was going to give you a ride to work with his bike since your car was under repair. You were wearing the blue helmet he bought especially for you and the sight was making his heart swell.
“Sweetheart, I would never let anything happen to you, you know that. I would never put you in danger.” he said and kissed you.
Yes, it was difficult at first, you were far from an ordinary couple but the challenge only made Bucky love you even more.
Maybe it was just you being different from him but Bucky couldn’t help developing a soft spot for you.
You were already asleep when he came home after midnight. He usually came home early but today he had more complicated things to do. He quickly regretted not coming home earlier when he saw you curled up on the couch, sleeping while some sitcom was playing on the tv. He knew that you were waiting for him, worrying that he wouldn't come back.
He walked up to the couch and smiled at you softly. He slowly lifted you up in bridal style, giving you a kiss on the forehead. He walked to the bedroom, careful not to wake you up. He put you on the bed slowly and put a blanket over you. He kissed your cheek and took off his leather jacket. He was trying to take his shirt off when he heard your voice.
“Bucky?” He quickly turned around to look at you. You were on your elbows, looking at him with sleepy eyes. His eyes softened when he saw your sleepy and confused state, you were looking adorable with your messy hair and puffy eyes.
“Hey, baby.” he whispered, smiling and quickly changed into shorts and a t-shirt. You watched him as he changed and he laid down next to you. He pulled you to his chest gently and kissed your hair, smelling your shampoo.
“I’m sorry. I tried to make it home earlier but I had things to do.” he apologised, feeling guilty about the fact that you fell asleep on the couch, waiting for him.
“It’s okay.” you mumbled sleepily and he knew that it was okay. He couldn’t express how thankful he was for you. You understood him, knew him, loved him and he was beyond happy for it. He knew that it was all going to be okay as long as you were with him.
“I love you so much.” he whispered but still, it wasn’t enough to express how much you meant to him, words were useless when it came to you.
“I love you too, Bucky.”
It wasn’t that bad to have a soft spot. In fact, it was the best thing that ever happened to Bucky Barnes.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
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Frank | Endings Beginnings | icons
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Bucky Barnes x reader
word count // 2,349
warnings // SMUT(18+) minors DNI!, car sex, dirty talk, minor injury, just Bucky bumping his head, bleeding(from bucky being an idiot) swearing, fingering, slight breeding kink if you squint, degradation kink, unprotected penetrative sex, slight bulge kink -
A/N // Please mind, i know almost nothing about cars. But my dirty mind thought up the idea of Bucky owning a shop and you're all really here for the filth so if i got anything car related wrong, no i didn't 🥰 enjoy!
Bucky was in a bad mood today. He made this known as soon as he walked into the shop. Sam tried to jab at him, but he only rolled his eyes at his co-worker, “I don’t pay you to make jokes. Go help with the 8:30 appointment.” His tone was sharp. You share a look with Steve, who was next to you, clocking in. He looked tired, but still sent you a warm smile and waved over at Sam as he grumpily walked off.
You pretended to walk over to the front desk and skim through the timesheets while Steve and Bucky make conversation about the mess that Peter, the new kid had made last night; he had knocked over an oil can while inspecting his first car and slipped, breaking a rearview mirror...with his head. You felt really bad for him, he was so nervous to be hired in the first place, especially after he met Bucky- but you were glad that you happened to not be here for that.
The last thing you needed was to piss Bucky off today, too. So, you sipped your coffee and took a seat, going through the shipment orders as you usually would. You hear Bucky sigh and look up, seeing him already staring at you with tired, stressful eyes. “Y/n, did you not see the shift change last night?” You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head, nervously tapping your hands on the desk. “I sent a text out. You’re workin’ on the 1970 Lincoln with me. Peter’ll work the front.”
You felt your heart drop. You knew absolutely nothing about cars- how did you get this job? You had no clue. “Um, I-”
“It’s just for today. I’ll just have you wipe down the interior or something- I can’t have Peter doing too much after last night. We’re lucky he even showed up today.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. There’s no way you were going to argue with him on this. Just as you finished tidying up the space, Peter had walked over. You showed him what to do and he caught on very quickly; he was young and probably very good with computers, so you weren’t too worried. Bucky leaned on the wall behind you, waiting for you to get done. “-And just come get me if you need any help, alright?”
“Yes ma’am, thank you, y/n,” You give him a nod and turn around quickly- your eyes going wide for a minute. Bucky’s eyes were focused on your ass the whole time, only snapping out of it when he noticed you spin around. He clears his throat, “Y’ready?” His voice was gruff. All you could do was nod, following behind him down to the garages like a lost puppy.
He stops you in front of a row of cars, his metal arm brushing over your clothed chest, “Ok, y/n, which one of these cars is a 1970 lincoln?”
“Are you joking?” You didn’t mean to say it out loud. He tilts his head at you, “Do you think I’m in a joking mood today, honey?” The nickname shouldn't have had such an effect on you, but boy, it did. You turn your attention back to the cars. Out of all five, three were newer models, nothing that would be around in the 70s. You couldn’t see the model names from how far back you were, so with a shaky finger, you pointed to the black one- it looked pretty old.
“Did you guess?”
“You got lucky.” He mumbles. “Who even drives a car like this anymore?” You scrunch your nose up at the thought of having to drive it; you knew nothing about cars, but you’d learn quickly if it meant you never had to get behind that wheel.
“I happen to like the older cars rather than the new ones. Who needs that complicated shit anyway,” He pops open the hood and opens the driver's side door, “Plus, look at all this room- bench seat. Do you know how efficient those used to be on dates?” He winks. Was he implying what you thought he was? “Looks pretty uncomfortable to me, boss.” You try to joke, but he only huffs and nudges you to sit down in the car. You watch him walk away, only to come back a few seconds later with a bucket of cleaning supplies. He chuckles when he sees you frown, setting the bucket on the floor by your feet, “I’m sorry, I know you’d rather be up front- and that I’ve been pissy all day for many reasons. Don’t take it personally. It’d help if you’d stop actin’ so afraid of me. I’m not that bad.”
You begin wiping down the dash as you speak, “I’m not afraid. ‘Jus know you probably had a bad night or something...plus, I know I only got this job out of luck, or maybe you guys just wanted someone to look at while you work. I don’t care. You pay me pretty well for working behind a desk all day, I don’t want to ruin that.”
Bucky scoffed, “I hired you because you’re good at your job. The other guys just know everything about one thing; cars. And I’m offended you’d think I hired you for your looks- although, you are pretty nice to look at.” His mood had turned around, and quickly. Has he always flirted with you like this? You cough a little, blaming it on the spray you were holding. It’s pretty silent for a while as you two work on your own tasks.
An hour later, you had finally, near about refurbished the inside of the beat-down car from front to back. You were leaning your body over the passenger seat, grabbing a few wipes you left in the back.
Bucky was almost finished twisting a cap shut when he peaked up, the sight in front of him causing him to suck in a breath. He watches you wiggle further into the back of the car, giving him the perfect view of your ass, those tight jeans doing it much justice. He felt his cock twitch and couldn’t help himself but imagine bending you over in the car and fucking you until you couldn’t walk. “I’m finished!”
You pop your head back up and turn to wave at Bucky, but he was caught off guard. He jumped straight up, his head banging into the hood so harshly that when he stood upright, you noticed a tiny bit of blood trickling down his neck. “Fuck!” He hissed, cupping his head. “Come here,” You climb out of the car and over to him, grabbing his hand and leading him to sit on the passenger side. You kneel down, your knees between his legs.
You grab a clean rag and apply pressure to his cut, “It’s just a knick- I didn’t take you as the jumpy type, Buck.”
He wasn’t paying any attention to the words you were saying. His eyes were glued to your lips, and your chest, and you had no idea since you were focused on his injury. “Um,” when you finally look at him, his eyes were darker than you’ve ever seen them before, filled with lust. “The blood stopped. Good thing, because I didn’t want to have to clean up any more messes,” You bite your lip.
“Well, I’m sorry for ya, honey.”
Without another word, he pulls you on top of him, pulling your ass over his clothed, hard cock. “Fuck, Bucky- what are you doing?” You moan out while his hands grip your hips, grinding your throbbing cunt over him, “i’m showing you how amazing car sex was in the 70s, honey,” he grunts, his head falling back in pleasure. “Wha- what if someone comes looking for us?”
“I told everyone to leave me alone today- i don’t think they want to piss me off anymore, hm?”
You place both your hands on his chest while you squeeze your thighs tighter. Bucky’s hands fly up to the waistband on your jeans, “You want this?”
He unzips them quickly and you help him pull the tight fabric off, leaving on your lace panties. “Already so wet for me and I haven’t even fucked you,” he slides his fingers over your slick folds, “You’ve been such a good girl, helping me out today,” He slides a finger into you and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, whimpering. “Uh uh, honey- I want to hear your pathetic little whines while you fuck my fingers, and don’t you hold back, or you won’t get my cock.”
“Bucky,” you whine, moving your hips faster. When he adds another finger in, you toss your shirt over your head. Bucky swears he could bust just by watching your tits bounce. “So fuckin’ pretty,” He brings his right hand up to your middle, circling over your sensitive clit with his thumb. You let out a loud moan, “I’m- holy shit,” You feel the coil in your stomach come undone as his pace quickens. “Come on, honey, you’re doing so well for me,” His fingers fuck your tight cunt so good you couldn’t wait for his cock. “Fuck!” You scream, and squeeze your breasts as you cum.
Bucky watches your face relax after a minute and pulls his fingers out of you, eyes on you as he licks them clean with his tongue. Without thinking, you lean in, your lips roughly colliding with his own; you can taste yourself on his tongue. “Ready to see what you’ve been missin’ out on?” he teases while unzipping his pants and pulling himself out of his boxers. Your mouth waters at his hard length. You spit on your hand and stroke him a few times until he pulls your hand away, wanting to be inside of you. “Do you know how long I’ve thought about doing this? You come into the shop every day in your tight little pants and skimpy little tops-” He pulls your panties to the side, “Desperate for my attention- and for my cock,” He rubs the swollen tip over your slit, and you groan, “Just fuck me already!”
Bucky slams into you with warning, gripping your hips so tight you could just feel the bruises forming- “Oh, Bucky, yes!” You moan, your hands on his chest, sweat rolling off your forehead. “That’s it, ride my cock, honey- all yours.” He watches you bounce down onto his cock, and grabs your tits with his hands- the metal one pinching your nipple, the other squeezing your breast. “I fucking love this car!” You cry, your walls clenching around his cock. He chuckles at you, “Told you,”
Bucky sits up and grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you up and slamming you back down on his cock. He was in his own heaven, fucking into you, watching those pretty tits bounce in his face- this wasn’t how neither of you thought the workday would turn out, but there were no complaints.
“Feel so good wrapped around my cock,” he whispers into your ear, grunting, panting, everything that made your pussy tighten around him. “M’gonna fill this pretty little pussy up- so everyone knows what a dirty little whore you are-” You let out a tiny whimper at the dirty words leaving his mouth; “Please, f- fill me up,” You felt tears brim your eyes at the crazy sensation; Bucky grabs your hand, not stopping his pace once, and places it over your stomach. “You feel that? Feel how good I’m fucking you?” He watches the tears stream down your face, “Yes, fuck,” You bury your face into his shoulder, letting him fuck into you.
Bucky kisses your jaw, whispering filthy words into your ears. He feels himself getting closer to his edge and with the help of you rolling your hips onto him, he cums; you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up with his hot seed. He continues to milk his cock into your pussy, the sensation too good to stop. You open your eyes up when he finally stopped, “Fucked that attitude right out of me- fuckin hell,” He drops his head onto the seat, still catching his breath.
“You’re cleaning this time, right?”
“Yeah, but I gotta be quick, this car should’ve been done about thirty minutes ago.”
Your eyes widen in horror, “Bucky! What the fuck!?”
“Wow, she looks brand new!” The older man sends you a bright smile, “You put all these boys to shame, missy.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m glad you’re satisfied,” In the corner of your eye, you see Bucky give you a thumbs-up. The fucker had made you show your work to the owner of the car. The man in front of you hands you a twenty-dollar bill for your services. “-I can’t take this, sir, really-”
“Please, keep it. You deserve it.”
When the man drives off, you walk back over to the desk where the men have gathered around, teasing Peter about being a computer nerd. Bucky looked up at you with a bright smile, “Looks like you guys have some competition. Y/n just might get a promotion,”
“Listen I love the change in your mood, but unless she can name at least five car models, she can’t take my job.” Sam mumbles.
“I’ll trade places with you, y/n!” Peter smiles, earning yet another jab from Sam about being a nerd. Steve looks from you to Bucky and discreetly shakes his head. And while you clocked out, he leaned into your ear, “Next time you go for a ride, please, let us know.” Your face flushes as he continues to speak, “Had to stall that poor old man for twenty minutes while you two finished up.”
“Save it. This is the first I’ve seen Bucky this happy at work in a while. Just, keep it in your pants and maybe save the car sex until you’ve clocked out, and preferably in your own vehicle.”
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Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader
Warnings: mentions of injuries and blood, overall very fluffy and cute
Summary: in which Y/N gets hurt and Ransom is the perfect fiancé.
Author's Note: hiya peeps! ok im gonna say it,,, im a hoe for soft!ransom idc idc. enjoy!
"If anything happens while I'm at work, if you get hurt, don't hesitate to call me, alright? I'll be home in 15 minutes. Just call." Wise words by Ransom Drysdale, her fiancé.
Was she going to do that? Nope! Y/N grumbled from her position on the ground; she was walking down the stairs when she had tripped and fallen, ending up in a heap on the floor with one ankle definitely broken and a cut on her temple. Slowly, as the pain got too much to bear, she started crawling to the best of her abilities towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit.
As she neared the bathroom her hopes went up, until she saw the cupboard above the sink on top of which the first aid kit was kept. "Who fucking keeps it so high up?" she cursed under her breath as she grabbed the sink, slowly standing up, praying the sink wouldn't break under her as she applied her full body weight on the poor thing. She was successful.
Now putting her entire weight on her good foot, she reached up and, severely underestimating the weight of the kit, yanked it up, causing the heavy box to come crashing down on her. "Damn it, fucking son of a—" she cursed loudly as the box knocked her off her already weak feet. She fell on her back with a grunt and the heavy box landed on her chest, forcing her to exhale a breath. "Fuck."
Y/N forgot to hear a painful crunch.
She started lifting her hands to push the kit away when a sharp pain shot through her left wrist, causing her to wince. "Oh, great, another broken limb? Just what I needed. Great. Fucking peachy," she muttered and shoved the box away with her right hand, moving to sit up. She tried to crawl out of the bathroom but this time, with only one hand to support her, the task was perilous.
Ransom tapped his fingers on his desk at work in the tune of his favorite song, frowning at the blank open document in front of him. He was working on his second book, but today, inspiration was nowhere to be found. No ideas were coming to his head on how to proceed with the next chapter. I wonder what Y/N is doing, he thought and smiled softly at the thought of his fiancée.
Ransom and Y/N met at a party thrown by a mutual friend. He was being his usual, bitter self in the gardens outside the lavish mansion (yes, a mansion) when Y/N had approached him first. "Hi there, I'm Y/N. I noticed you were being too quiet and you slipped out, and wondered if you wanted to talk to someone?"
He wanted to push her away for talking to him like that, especially since he left the house for a reason, but instead he just smiled at her. A genuine smile. "I'd like that a lot." And so, they talked. Ransom was proud to announce that he had first fallen for her nature, her personality and her demeanor instead of her looks, which was what made their relationship special.
At least for Ransom, given the type of man he used to be.
Y/N was extremely gorgeous in his eyes. That was simply an added bonus. By the end of the party, both of them had walked into the house again and Ransom had put on quite a show about asking her out to dinner, which she readily agreed to. She knew what kind of a man he was; spoiled, full of himself and had a big attitude problem but that one talk with him changed her perception of Ransom Drysdale.
He was truly nice to the people he cared about, one of them being her. They talked for a short while and he was nothing short of polite, sweet and funny at times. He flirted endlessly since that was part of his personality but she didn't mind, she liked it, even. Ever since that day, they were inseparable and now, 4 years later, engaged.
"Fuck shit, fuck shit, fuck shit…" Y/N chanted as she slowly crawled to the living room, the pain in her body increasing by the minute. Finally putting her pride aside, she grabbed her phone off the couch and called Ransom, falling to the floor with deep breaths. Ransom's eyes snapped away from his laptop and landed on his phone when it started ringing.
Grinning, he picked up the call when Y/N's smiling face came into view. The moment she spoke, though, his grin dropped. "Hugh…" Y/N choked out, eyes filling with tears when the pain finally caught up to her. "Y/N? Bubba, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, immediately leaping to his feet. He shut the laptop, grabbed his coat and stormed out of his office, towards his car. Work be damned.
"It's— it's nothing. I'm sorry for calling, I know you're busy—" He nearly scoffed. "Babe, listen to me. You're more important. I'm coming home, I just left the office. Speak to me, bub, tell me," he insisted as he drove like a madman towards his house. "Just got hurt a little bit," Y/N mumbled and Ransom's heart broke. "Darling, I'll take care of it when I get home."
Thankfully, 15 minutes later, he reached home. Ransom hurriedly parked his car and threw open the front door, freezing when he saw his fiancée lying near the couch on the floor, the phone still in her hand as her eyes snapped away from the ceiling towards him. "Ransom," she stuttered and he walked towards her, kneeling next to her. His thumb swiped the blood on her temple.
God, did he want to punch her on her stupid, beautiful face for telling him she was just a little hurt. "Bub, what's this?" He picked her up and placed her on the couch, moving to take her hand but it fell limp… in a weird angle. His eyes widened. "Is your wrist broken?" he whispered and Y/N nodded, turning away from him. "And you had the fucking audacity to tell me it was nothing?!" he screamed.
She kept silent as he checked the rest of her body, finding out that her ankle was broken as well, the skin around it swollen black and blue. "You're a fucking dumbass, you know that?" he muttered as he called a doctor, sitting on the floor next to the couch. "I didn't want to disturb you." She was wheezing and he turned to her, only to see her clutching at her chest with a pained expression on her face.
"Hurts." He sat up and ripped the t-shirt off her, eyes darkening when they landed on the bruise forming on her chest and between the valley of her breasts. "What the fuck happened when I was gone?" he hissed as he covered her up again. "I… I fell down the stairs first and broke my ankle," she began, fidgeting. "Well you should've called me then!" he insisted, exasperated.
"I didn't want to be a burden," she admitted in a small voice and Ransom's resolve broke. He teared up a bit and pressed his lips to hers, shaking his head. "You're not a burden, Y/N. I told you, if you're hurt at home, call me. I meant it. Even if it's a paper cut, call. Even if it's a skinned knee, call. I'm always here for you, and I always will be here." Y/N sniffled under him.
"Ransom…" He gently sat her up and sat next to her, only to pull her on his lap as he held her close. "Don't you dare think you're a burden ever again. I signed up for this. A burden is something you're not willing to carry. This? I'm willing to carry this to the end of the world," he whispered, squeezing her body as tightly as he could without crushing her. "I love you, Ran."
I love you, too.
"I know, sweetcheeks." And he grinned when her head shot up and she promptly slapped him on the cheek. "You're so full of yourself, Drysdale," she huffed. "You still love me," he hummed as she snuggled into his arms. "Fortunately for you, unfortunately for me, yeah, yes I do," she sighed.
Soon, the doctor arrived, patched her up and said the worst thing she had ever heard in her life.
"Bedrest for 2 weeks till the ankle heals."
And seeing Ransom's shit-eating grin had caused her to glare so viciously at him that even he had cowered. "Babe, doctor's orders, can't help it." After the doctor left, they were now laying side by side on their bed, staring at each other. "I can't just sit here with nothing to do!" she whined, snuggling closer to him. He put an arm around her, sighing.
"Well, face the reality, kitten. You're staying here and that's an order."
"Funny you think you can boss me around, sweetheart."
"I know I can't but this time, I will. I'll strap you down to the bed, mark my words," Ransom said with a roll of his eyes. "Kinky," Y/N snickered and Ransom kissed her nose with a smirk. "You are not getting up, Mrs Drysdale," he whispered and she pouted, jutting her lower lip out as far as she could along with giving him puppy eyes. "Please, Ran?" Ransom laughed.
"No." She groaned loudly. "Ugh, fine! I'll just get up when you go to work," she spoke smugly and Ransom turned to her, eyes wide. "Oh no you don't." He leaped up from the bed, making her whine. "Where are you going?! I need cuddles, Ran, I'm hurt!" she insisted and he got back into bed, taking out his phone. "I'm making calls to work. I'm gonna work from home now."
"You don't have to do that!" she insisted vehemently but Ransom refused to hear it. "I have to! To make sure your cute, dumb little ass stays in bed like the doctor said," he huffed. After one phone call, he sighed in relief and relaxed against the bed. "Pays to be a Thrombey, ya know," he chuckled, ruffling Y/N's hair as she snuggled into his side.
She was a mess. Her left hand was in cast, and so was her right ankle. After the doctor left she had taken off her t-shirt, leaving her in her sports bra, the wound on her chest a deep purple with flecks of red. There was also a bandaid on her temple for the small cut. "I figured." It was quiet for some time. "You never finished the story, babe. How did you get so hurt?"
"Well, first the stairs incident, I told you. After that, I was going to the bathroom to get the first aid kit but it was too heavy. I didn't know that so when I lifted it, it fell on me. I broke my wrist from hitting it on the floor too hard and the first aid kit fell on my chest," she huffed, "The pain was too much so I called you." Ransom frowned. "You should've called earlier."
"I know. Sorry."
"It's okay, baby, I'm here now," Ransom smiled, giving her a loving kiss on the top of her head. "I'm getting tired," she yawned as the adrenaline started wearing off. "Sleep." Ransom adjusted himself so he was now half-lying on the bed, back resting against the headrest as he gathered Y/N in his arms. She fell asleep a few minutes later.
Y/N touched his side of the bed, only to be met with cold sheets instead of his warm body. She blinked the sleep away and sat up, rubbing her eyes and letting out a yawn. Running a hand through her messy hair, she stood up and limped towards the stairs. 2 weeks had passed and as the doctor said, her bedrest was over.
Her ankle had healed but not fully, while the wrist was still in a cast. The wound on her chest was also feeling loads better. She walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen area only to see Ransom cooking breakfast. "Ran," she whined and he turned around. "Y/N! Get your ass in bed, why are you here?"
"It got lonely." She wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his bare back. "Alright, fine." He spun around and grabbed her waist, lifting her and placing her on the kitchen counter. "Sit here." Y/N smiled lazily as she placed her head on his shoulder, watching him cook. He was making eggs. Omelettes.
"How did you sleep?" he questioned when the silence stretched on. "I slept well. The ankle doesn't hurt as much, nor the wound on my chest. But the wrist…" She sighed and Ransom looked at her with a sad smile, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "It'll get better, I promise. I'm not going to stop taking care of you."
"I'd like that very much," she replied shyly and he grinned. It was true, Ransom had truly taken care of her well. Breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed everyday for 2 weeks, he worked in their room and they had cuddled more in the two weeks than they had in their entire relationship. Y/N was super happy with their arrangement.
Of course, sometimes Ransom would be too busy, leaving her alone in the room while he worked downstairs or had a meeting with someone. But then he'd make it up to her by offering more snuggles and kisses. "My best girl," he murmured, placing the omelette he was making on a plate. He then carried the plate to the dining room, leaving her on the kitchen counter.
He returned just as fast, gathering her in his arms and pressing a kiss to her temple as he carried her to the dining table as well. "You're strong," she teased and he huffed. "I better be, or all that working out will be for nothing." She laughed and he placed her down on a chair. "Eat well, I'll be back." With another kiss dropped to her head, he went back to the kitchen area.
Y/N wondered how she became so lucky to have him as her fiancé. Yeah, sure, Ransom wasn't a very nice person in general but to her, he was the best. The man who once called his aunt unsavory things punched someone in the face when they had the audacity to call her the same things. "You better watch your fucking mouth or I'm gonna break all your teeth."
It hadn't affected her much anyway but seeing Ransom's reaction had sent a pleasant tingle down her spine. He was ready to do anything for her. And she had to admit, lately, he was being very soft. She had noticed the changes in him around a year ago; he'd become… domestic, almost. It was fun to see him like that.
His family, well, they were less than pleased when Ransom had first introduced her to them. They thought she wasn't good enough for him and had even tried to break them down. But that had only made them stronger. Ransom was in love with her and nothing his family said was going to change that. "Y/N?"
She snapped out of her thoughts and blinked at Ransom. "Yeah?" He laughed and sat in front of her with his own plate of food. "You were lost in thoughts; the food's getting cold, honey." She cursed softly and laughed along, finally finishing her food.
How had she gotten so lucky?
A/N: Thanks for reading! Show some love, likes and reblogs will be appreciated <3
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I know I've been pretty hit and miss with posting the last couple of weeks. I've been writing each day, just having finished anything yet. I'll have a few things done soon for you guys to enjoy!
What you can expect soon:
New Beginnings - Chapter Two (Frank x Reader)
Come Away With Me - One Shot (Curtis Everett x Reader)
A Boyfriend for Hire - Chapter Eight (Dayton White x Bucky Barnes)
Also, what do you guys think about me possibly doing theme days?
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Wild Child - Chapter Six
Y/N Stark was a wild child. Vandalism, drag racing, that kind of thing. She was untamable, filled with sarcasm and nothing else.
Her undeniable love for crackers leads her right into the man who would fix her, love her.
BUCKY BARNES X READER
Chapter five: Steve you beautiful blonde idiot you
Bucky didn’t come to get her for her appointment that morning. He wasn’t waiting when Y/N used her crutches to take her down to the medical floor of the Avengers tower. He wasn’t there when she graduated to a cane k and he wasn’t there when she went to his floor.
It was like nobody else was in the tower. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, where the fuck is everybody?” She called, fingers curling around birds head of her cane (she wasn’t sure which bird, just thought it looked wicked as hell).
“The conference room, Miss Stark.”
She moved back into the elevator, most of her weight on the cane. “Take me to the goddamn conference room,” she muttered and looked at her nails.
The elevator travelled up, almost slower than normal. Although Y/N knew it wasn’t going slower than it usually was, it was all of her anxiety bubbling to the surface. She shouldn’t have kissed Bucky last night, should’ve just left him alone to wallow until he came around. She shouldn’t have pushed him in the way she did.
Her cane thunked against the floor as she made her way to the conference room. Y/N had never understood why the walls were glass. Surely there were gonna be some conferences that were private, that others didn’t need to know about. But, from where she was standing, she could see everything.
Her dad, her family, and Bucky were all sat around a long table, brown folders in front of them. A government official stood in front of them, a thick booklet in his hands. Behind him were pictures, pictures of most of the damage done while Bucky was The Winter Soldier.
Rage bubbled up inside of the youngest Stark. Her nails dug crescents into her palms as she steadied herself on the cane. Sucking in a deep breath, she marched forward and threw open the glass doors. “Y/N,” Natasha started.
But she didn’t get very far.
Y/N walked towards the government official, a dangerous smile on her lips. “I don’t think we’ve met,” she held out her hand, “Y/N Stark.”
The government official looked towards her father. “Now I know I’m not meant to be in this meeting. I know I’m not wanted here. You probably should’ve considered locking the door.” She moved slowly, almost taunting him with the way she was attempting to walk. “But then I wouldn’t have been able to burst in here to tell Mr Government Official whose name I don’t care about that someone in this tower is trying to recover and showing them photos of stuff the brainwashed version of them that isn’t really them did, isn’t helpful to their recovery.”
“Shut it, tin can.”
She turned her attention back to the government official, but Nat was suddenly in front of her, pushing her out of the room. She locked eyes with Bucky as she went (somewhat willingly, Nat was one frightening lady) and saw nothing but sadness concealed in his blue orbs.
Immediately Y/N turned to the redhead. “Nat, what the hell is going on in there? Why is Bucky having to see everything that happened while he was The Winter Soldier?”
Nat only shook her head. “None of us want this either. You’ve just got to be strong for him, okay? He’ll need your help to get through this.”
“Get through what?”
Nat bit her lip, debating whether or not to answer. One look back inside of the conference room, where Bucky was more concentrated on Y/N than his own future, and his mind was made up.
“They think Barnes and Wanda are a threat and they want to have them locked up.”
She said it so fast, Y/N almost missed it. Almost. “What do you mean? How are they a threat?” She challenged.
Nat shrugged, not because she didn't know why he was a threat, but because she didn't know what to say to Y/N. “You’ve seen what The Winter Soldier could do. He had you at one point, didn’t he?”
“No! The winter soldier never touched me!” She protested. It wasn't that usual defiant Stark attitude Nat was used to, it was desperation. "I was down in the garage, he never came near me."
Natasha was baffled. She could very clearly remember having her gun trained on Bucky, The Winter Soldier while he had his hands on Y/N, holding her flush against him, his metal arm around her neck. "He almost killed you," Nat said, reaching for her hand.
Y/N pulled it away. More like ripped it away. "That didn't happen. I would remember if it did!" She looked like she was going to break down and cry. Nat had never seen a Stark cry before. She didn't think it was possible. "What happens if they decide he's a threat?"
"They'll take him away. Put him somewhere where he can't get to other people."
"Where I won't be able to get to him?"
Natasha opened her arms. "I'm sorry, kid. None of us want him to go either."
"Do we really have a choice?"
In answer, Y/N only got a pat on the shoulder. She watched as Nat walked back into the conference room. She didn't follow, instead sat on the floor outside with her back against the opposite wall, watching as the government official spoke and Bucky listened. By now she knew him well enough to know his reactions and what they meant. She could tell when he was shocked, surprised, upset, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him.
At one point he locked eyes with her. Y/N raised her eyebrows, a silent question of what was going on. But Bucky turned back to the government official and Y/N turned back to her cane.
Around half an hour later people started filing out of the conference room. Almost everybody came out, everybody but her father, Steve and the government official. They stayed in their seats and the government official stayed where he was, arms crossed, looking mad.
Bucky was the only one who came over to Y/N. The others walked past her, sending her sympathetic smiles. Bucky marched straight over and pulled her to her feet. He looked down at the cane and smiled. "Is that an upgrade?"
“Please don’t try and be funny I’m a full minute away from crying.”
With his fingers under her chin, Bucky tipped her face up towards him. “You wanna tell me what’s going on in that brilliant head of yours?” He asked, blue eyes filled with concern. Concern for her. With all that was going on with him and Bucky was concerned for her, for the way she was feeling. Y/N almost burst into tears then and there.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around Bucky, let her body fall into his strong one. Her cane clattered to the floor. “They can’t take you away, Buck! I won’t let them!” Her fists connected with his arm and Buck caught them easily, laughing ever so slightly. He kissed the top of her head. “You won’t let them take you, right?”
“There’s nothing I can do, doll.” For the first time since Y/N had first seen him, Bucky looked somewhat upset. It was kind of a relief, seeing his face fall like that. As much as Y/N hated it she let a breath loose.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Y/N held onto Bucky as he stood up straight, effortlessly pulling her from the floor. “Well then, they’re just going to have to take me with you.”
As much as Steve and Tony tried, they weren’t able to plead Bucky’s case to the government official. For Wanda, it was a little easier. She was younger than Bucky, had done some good for the Avengers since.
But The Winter Soldier, with his long history, made things a little more difficult. They’d tried to show the government official that he wasn’t a threat, that nothing had happened for months. Tried to plead that he was a war hero, that, without him, they might not have won the war.
Nothing seemed to be working.
“You may have your weekend to say your goodbyes,” Said the government official, looking at Bucky and Y/N through the glass. “A team will be here to pick him up. I trust there will be no problems?”
“No problems at all.” Steve threw down his files and marched out of the conference room.
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So I just rewatched We Have Always Lived In The Castle and I had a Thought™️ for a fic where Charles has a fiancé (OC or reader insert idk yet) who’s like, yknow, hanging off him and giggling and shit the whole time as like the classic like Bonnie to his Clyde type thing. And instead of him like attempting to seduce his cousin it’s more that they present this illusion of like “Aren’t you so tired of taking care of everyone? Wouldn’t you like us to take care of you?” to Connie, who is desperate for like, good parents, except that they don’t have her best interests at heart they just want her to trust them with the finances. And Merricat can see through them, obvs, and Charles is still very much a mirror for their father it’s just that his girl is also something of a mirror for their mother.
Uh so anyway would anyone read that?
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Sebastian helping you through a breakup
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