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#avenger x you
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Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (5)
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings), Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader (future)
Genre: Angsty with a hint of Fluff?
Summary: Fighting off the Winter Soldier and having a kind conversation with Bucky Barnes, Y/n didn’t think both of those things could happen all in one day. And yet…
(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)
Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mentions of Torture, Mentions of Alcoholism, Suicidal Ideations.
a/n: if any of you have watched the show I'm referencing, you fucking hit me up, you hear me? YOU HIT ME UP!
Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (4) | Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (6) | Series Masterlist | Age of Ultron (Static Origin Story) | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist
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Y/n figures it out moments before the sirens are sounded.
After the verbal showdown with her brother and her boyfriend, she needed to blow off some steam.. Or well, just blow off some smoke. The cigarette was burning past the filter when the pieces clicked together, about why Sergeant Barnes was framed as the culprit of the attack.
But the loud sirens and the entire control room filled with agents rushing around meant she was a little too late.
As she enters, she takes a moment to spot Natasha and Tony making their way toward the exit.
“Please tell me you brought a suit,” Natasha says to Tony.
“Sure did,” Tony replies, buttoning his blazer and breaking into a jog alongside Nat. “It's a lovely Tom Ford, three-piece, two-button. I'm an active-duty non-combatant.”
“If you don’t have a suit, we gotta call in Y/n,” Nat states gravely.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Tony bites back.
“We cannot let her get anywhere near this,” Nat reminds him.
“Anywhere near what?” She asks casually, sneaking up behind them. 
“For fuck’s sake. You can’t sneak up on people like that under high-stress situations like these,” Tony scolds her.
She just chuckles in response, jogging along with them. 
“Y/n,” Nat tries but Y/n shuts her down.
“Come on! I’ll be fine.” She insists jovially.
Nat stops to fix her with one of her serious this-is-so-not-funny looks. 
“What?” Y/n asks petulantly.
“You know what,” Nat replies.
“We don’t have time to waste. So I’ll cut to the chase. I won’t lose control and do something crazy, okay?” 
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But then it’s 10 minutes later and Barnes just threw her brother, her Tony across the fucking room and if there were ever any circumstance that would make Y/n extremely prone to violence, y’all have been reading this shit long enough to know, it’s this. “Yeah, Nat, remember what I said about the whole not losing control and going crazy thing?” She asks calmly, straightening up.
“Yea…” Natasha replies, apprehension clear in her tone.
“I lied.” She jumps over the railing from the floor above and lands right in front of Barnes. When she faces him, looks him in the eyes, she realises, this really isn’t Barnes at all. It’s her dearest, oldest friend.
“Soldat.”
There is a beat, a hint of a hint of recognition. And then he charges at her with her metal arm. But unlike all the times she had previously fought the Winter Soldier, this time, she is not afraid. 
He hurt Tony.
This time she is just fucking angry.
She dodges easily, by stepping out of the way.
He turns to land another blow, she sidesteps that too.
She smirks, “Sie sind eingerostet.” You’re rusty.
That seems to piss him off. He punches her straight in the gut, throwing her back.
Skidding onto her knees, she looks up, gut sore, eyes watering. She isn’t losing to him this time. Not again. Never again.
Standing up straight, she lets out a short breath and motions him to come at her. He takes the bait. Running up to her, he throws his metal arm aiming for a mean left hook but it clashes, letting out a loud clang.
The metal banging against metal rings out loud enough to halt the commotion around them. 
Well, that and the fact that Y/n just brandished a fucking sword out of fucking nothing. Yeah, shit like that usually catches attention, she reckons.
She hasn’t used the damn thing in… give or take two decades? And god! It feels damn fucking good. It’s exhilarating, to say the least. The dark metal of the sword shines pink as it reflects the light. It’s a soft glow, ever so delicate. But it still manages to bathe the Soldier’s pale metal hand in pink. It makes her smile.
The Soldier, however, doesn’t seem to find it even remotely charming.
His face twists in confusion. Only a beat passes before he strikes again.
She blocks again. 
Another beat.
They both assess each other. 
For the first time in all the thousands of times, they have faced off against each other, the Soldier seems confounded. 
But the moment doesn’t last for too long. Pushing himself back, he runs up to her, gaining momentum and attacking again.
Dodging out of the way, she circles around and counters on his right side.
His reaction is a second too late and she slashes him. It’s a small cut, a scratch at best. But it draws blood.
She smiles.
Losing his temper, he charges. He strikes, she blocks. He strikes again, she dodges easily, moving around to kick his legs, causing him to loose balance.
It’s a delicate dance, as most fights are. But this one’s different. It used to be a routine for her—fighting the Winter Soldier. Day in, day out, they fought. A dance of fists and limbs, gutwrenching and unending. But this is so fucking different.
For once, she’s not scared.
She doesn’t have to fight to survive, she doesn’t have to hide a part of herself as she does. She doesn’t have to worry about making it out alive. Her brother is right behind her. Natasha is too. Steve’s a few moments away. Though she doesn’t need them to win this time around, it’s fucking comforting knowing that there is no version of this fight that ends with her dead. And maybe that’s what she needed? Because for the first time in her life, she is kicking the Winter Soldier’s ass.
For every hit he lands, she gets him back two times over.
In all honesty, she feels fucking cocky.
She smiles.
Her sword is an inch away from his throat, and there is an eerie silence hanging around them.
“Sie können nicht mehr gewinnen.” You don’t get to win anymore.
But before she can strike the final blow, her arm is pulled away as she’s pushed out of the way. 
Sharon is on him in an instant, fighting with all her might the best she can. It’s not enough though. She’s a good fighter but you have to be better than good to take on the Winter Soldier.
Y/n raises her sword, ready to fight again but there’s a tug on her shoulder, pulling her back.
When she turns to look at the offender, “Barnes is still in there,” is all that Natasha says before she jumps in to help Sharon.
And fuck if that doesn’t hit where it hurts.
Barnes is still in there.
Barnes is still in there.
She forgot about him. 
She forgot about Bucky Barnes. 
In her rage and vengeance, she forgot about the man behind the mask. She made him the monster again, she forgot the man beneath, again. 
Fuck.
Unfortunately, the downside of having a heartbreaking epiphany (of the fact that you’re a shit person) during a goddamn superhero fight is that you don’t have the correct tools or the required time to deal with said epiphany. Because Barnes is already in motion, T’Challa hot on his trail and Natasha is gasping for breath, having been choked by a metal hand. 
It’s not until much later when she’s sitting in an abandoned warehouse with a semi-conscious Barnes coming to with his metallic arm clamped under a huge hunk of metal that she tries to come to terms with her murderous rage.
As Barnes mumbles himself awake, Sam calls Steve into the room.
“Steve,” Barnes mumbles.
“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks.
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“Your mom’s name was Sarah,” he says before a painfully soft smile breaks onto his face. It reminds her of something but she can’t put her finger on it. It’s so gentle, it confuses her. The dichotomy of the rugged, broken warehouse and the reminiscing smile on his face almost breaks her. “You used to wear newspaper in your shoes.”
Steve smiles too then. He looks at her once, where she stands leaning against the wall on his right. “Can’t read that in a museum.”
“Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam asks, frustrated. Which, yeah fair question.
“What did I do?” Barnes asks.
“Enough,” Steve tells him.
“Oh, God,” Barnes laments, anguish clear on every inch of his face. “I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”
“Who was he?” Steve asks.
“I don’t know.”
“People are dead,” Steve’s not pulling his punches. “The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know’.”
Barnes thinks for a second, “He wanted to know about Siberia,” he says, eyes flinting around in recollection but never too far, never to her. “Where I was kept,” a beat. “He wanted to know exactly where.”
“Why would he need to know that?” Steve inquires.
And then for the first time since he came to, Barnes looks at her. There is a hesitance in his look too. As if he’s afraid to even look at her—like he’s not supposed to. 
When his eyes fly away, looking down with shame, it clicks.
He’s afraid to mention it in front of her, ashamed even.
And fuck if that doesn’t hurt her worse. 
God, I suck, she thinks.
So she does him this little kindness. Stepping up, she replies, “Because he’s not the only Winter Soldier.”
Hesitantly Barnes tells them about the rest of the Soldiers, how they were trained, how they were made… and that story… She can’t really say why but it feels familiar somehow. She doesn’t have the time to assess that thought.
“Who were they?” Steve asks.
“Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. Except—” his eyes flicker over to her once again.
“Except me,” she supplies for him, another act of kindness.
Nodding shyly, he continues. “And all that was before the serum.”
“They all turn out like you?” Sam asks him. His tone is a little too accusatory but again, she gets it.
“Worse.”
“The doctor,” Steve chimes in, “could he control them?”
“Enough.”
“Said he wanted to see an empire fall,” Steve remarks, addressing Sam.
“With these guys, he could do it,” Barnes informs them. “They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night. You’d never see them coming.”
Stepping up to Steve, Sam speaks in a hushed voice, “This would have been a lot easier a week ago.”
“If we call Tony—” Steve tries.
“No.” Sam cuts him off. “He won’t believe us.”
“He’ll believe her,” Steve counters, nodding at her.
Sam looks at her and relents. “Even if he did, who knows if the Accords would let him help.”
Steve looks at her then, there’s concern on his face. It’s almost sweet. The chaos around them just fades away when he looks at her like that—eyes all soft, hints of an annoyingly cute frown forming on his forehead. He looks so beautiful, always beautiful. 
“What do you think?” He asks, stepping up to her.
She takes a moment. She needs a lot more than that but a moment is all she can afford. Exhaling audibly she says, “I think there’s something more.” Her words make his frown prominent. “I think there’s something we’re missing.”
“Like what?” Sam asks.
“Like why now? I know the timing of the bombing seems… opportunistic, but it feels like there’s more to it somehow. There’s a huge piece of the puzzle that we’re missing and I think the answer lies somewhere in who the fuck that fake ass doctor was,” she tells them.
“You want to figure out who he is?” Sam offers.
She shakes her head from side to side, “Yeah but we can’t let him beat us to Siberia. We need to find those Soldiers before he does.”
“And if Tony tries to stop us?” Steve asks. 
“You’re on your own on that one.” She is not going to fight her brother. “I came because it was you and because—” she looks over at Barnes for a second before shaking her head. “Actually it doesn’t fucking matter why I came. If Tony’s on the other side, you’d be a bunch of dumbfucks to count on me.”
Steve, with his kindest blue eyes, just nods. He gets it. 
Tony is her person. That one person for whom she’d burn the world down. He was there for her when no one else was. There aren’t words to describe the devotion she has to him, she doesn’t think there ever will be.
Steve gets it.
And why wouldn’t he?
His person is the one who got them all into this mess. 
“We’re on our own,” Steve tells Sam.
But then Sam shrugs, “Maybe not. I know a guy.”
The three of them begin prepping. They make a few calls, and gather their resources, before Sam and Steve head out to grab something for them to eat and steal themselves a ride. 
With as much gentleness as he can muster, Steve asks her to watch over Barnes. And she agrees with a curt nod.
After taking a few moments to gather her courage, she walks back into the room. “So,” she begins as she brings herself to rest against the wall in front of him, “The red book, huh?”
The icebreaker seems to work as she intended.
Slowly looking up at her, he asks hesitantly, “You know about it?”
Instead of a reply, there is just silence. It’s so unexpected especially when matched with the look of shock she’s wearing that it makes Barnes frown.
“Fuck sorry,” she blurts out, shaking her head. “For a second there I completely forgot that you talk now.” When Barnes just looks at her with a flat face, she adds, “What? In half the century that I’ve ‘known’ you, you’ve spoken like 17 sentences—And I think just TWO of them were to me. I’m allowed to forget that you talk.” Barnes just rolls his eyes. She smiles then, “But yeah.” She shrugs jovially. “I read about it in some old files after Peggy got me out. They obviously didn’t use it on me…” She looks at him with a challenge in her eyes. “But you knew that.”
There is a beat of silence.
And then—
“I’m so—
“I’m sor—”
That shuts both of them up.
The silence seems palpable.
“You go ahead,” Barnes breaks it.
“I just—” She hesitates for a second. Gathering up her courage, she begins again, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
But apparently, that isn’t what the man wanted to hear. “What?” He throws back, shocked.
She shifts her weight from one foot to another. “I’m sorry,” she repeats.
“What for?” He scoffs almost as if the entire notion is completely stupid.
“For almost killing you—well not you, him but… You were in there, you always were and I just didn’t—I never…” She shakes her head, trying to shake away all the overthought thoughts from her head. “I shouldn’t have done that. Back at the base. I shouldn’t have gone as hard as I did.”
“I would’ve hurt a lot more people if you hadn’t,” he counters.
“Maybe,” she offers. “But I could’ve kept you busy without murdering you. Waited for Steve to get there. Knocked you unconscious—I don’t know. There were a million different options apart from straight-up murder. I shouldn’t have gone as hard as I did.”
“I deserved it.”
“I could’ve killed you,” she argues.
“I would’ve deserved that too,” he replies slowly, head hanging low, looking too small for a man as big as he is.
She understands the sentiment. She doesn’t agree with it, but she can relate to it. She has been exactly where he is. She wishes to expedite the processes for him… another small kindness.
She clicks her tongue. “I don’t agree.” His face contorts into something akin to disagreement, but before he can voice it, she adds, “Despite our… colorful past, I assure you, you do not deserve that.”
As expected, her words don’t carry the weight that is necessary to make a man as reverently known as James Bucky Barnes feel any less guilty.
So she tries again.
“You remember what I told you?” Her question makes him look up. She takes that as yes. “I’ll tell you again, just cause I feel like you need to hear it. We are not what they made us into, Sergeant. We are not monsters. The only way to prove them wrong is to be better.”
The James Barnes she had heard tall tales about seemed a relentlessly charming flirt, who was a little cocky but in that endearing kind of way which made you fall in love with him. But the James Barnes in front of her has this silence to him that could only be explained by years of trauma. He’s not cocky or flirty but she can still see the hints of an endearing man. So much so that when he speaks next, she wants to listen as keenly as possible.
With short, stiff movements while his hand stays stuck underneath the hunk of metal, he says in a low, unsure voice, “It might be true for you… But it doesn’t—I’m not… I haven’t done anything to be better. I haven’t even begun to make up for all the horrible things I did.” There is venom in his voice as he speaks. “I am still the monster they made me.” He looks at her, “You saw today who I am—WHAT I—”
“I’m gonna cut you off there Sarge.” She takes a step forward. “Do you really believe there is something you can do to make up for all the shit you did? Because newsflash partner, there really isn’t. There isn’t some grand equation where you save 4 people for every 1 person you killed.” She needs him to understand this, right here, right now. It’s fucking important. “There is no way to ‘make up’ for our sins, Sergeant. We did what we did. We cannot undo any of it. No matter how badly we want to.”
He looks absolutely lost as he asks, “So I shouldn’t even try?”
She relaxes again, “Now, when did I say that?”
“So, you’re saying I should try but expect to fail?” He asks, almost confounded.
Y/n smiles then, “Well, I’m not trying to say that either.” She’s met with scrunched-up brows and a scowl worthy of an award of some sort. She can’t help it, she lets out a chuckle. Taking a few steps closer, she sits down on the floor. Her knees are still up cause she refuses to ruin her beautiful oxfords, while she’s manspreading cause she likes it.
He stares at her as she tries to make herself comfortable in her (once) impeccable suit.
“You know what I love about the way the world changed throughout the years?” The question is purely rhetorical, so instead of waiting for what would obviously be an annoyed zinger, she continues, “I got to watch them develop technology, language, food, social constructs, yadda, yadda, yadda. But my favorite part, the fucking best part was Media. Watching people understand the power of the media they produce was so fucking fun.” She’s wearing a huge grin on her face. “And that—” she laughs a little, manically almost. “That led to some quality fucking television! I mean top-fucking-notch, alright?” 
He’s looking at her like she’s lost her mind.
“Now, why am I going on this random unrelated tangent, you ask.” 
“I didn’t,” he replies with a straight face, the cheeky bastard.
She waves him off. “Because it’s not unrelated at all. Back in the late nineties, early naughties, there was this show called ‘Buffy The Vampire Slayer’, which as the name suggests was about a teenage girl named Buffy—which yes, is a very peculiar name—who used to slay vampires which were like soul-less undead and unfeeling evil little dipshits. It was a great show. It was a spec-fucking-tacular show. Peak television and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
“But we aren’t talking about that today.” She shifts a little closer. “Buffy The Vampire Slayer had this spin-off show—which essentially is another show set in the same universe as the first, usually staring a side character from the original story as the main character in this one.” Waving her hands around, she continues, “Anyway, so Buffy The Vampire Slayer had a spin-off called Angel, which followed a dude named Angel—obviously—who used to be a vampire long before either of the shows started, and did like a bunch of crazy homicidal maniac shit but then got cursed with having his soul back.”
“That doesn’t sound like a curse,” Barnes interjects, almost shocking her.
“Doesn’t it though?” she counters. “After wreaking havoc, killing innocents, creating chaos everywhere you went, with no regard for the consequences—and doing so for like a century… you wake up the next day having to feel the guilt for all of it?” Cocking her brow she asks, “Is that not the worst punishment one could possibly get?”
Barnes’ eyes shy away.
“I thought you said this was relevant,” he contends half-heartedly.
She smiles again. “It is. Will you just give me a second?” When all he does is exhale audibly in patient annoyance, she continues, “So, as I was saying; Angel leaves the setting of the previous show and moves to L.A. where his show begins. Fights two or three bad guys, meets a few old friends, has a couple of revelations where he comes to realize that the only way to move forward is to help people, to be better. And so he decides to start an investigation agency to ‘help the helpless’.” He looks at her with a discernable look in his eyes.
“The reason I’m telling you all this is because, there comes a point in the show where someone like you, asks him why he does it. If he knows that his actions don’t matter, the greater scheme, the big picture. If there is no grand plan, no big win… If none of it changes because of what he does, then why do it? Why even try to be good? Why help people who if given the chance might not help him?” She smiles reminiscing. “And he says—and I remember it like it was yesterday cause that is how spectacular this show was—he says to the woman, ‘If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do… cause that’s all there is.’.
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And there it is…
There is the moment. 
Not too long, not too short. 
Just a moment.
And then she says, “It’s a great fucking show… I mean it has 5 seasons, three of which are almost unwatchable but it’s still a great fucking show. And I do not say that lightly, I mean—it’s so simple yet poignant, right? Redemption isn’t something you do for a certain period and then you’re done. The show—and this is another reason why I say it is a fucking genius piece of television—but yeah, the show equates Angel’s search for redemption and struggles with being a vampire to alcoholism. His thirst for blood is quite similar to an alcoholic’s thirst for booze and sobriety is a cruel bitch. You don’t become sober by not drinking alcohol for a set number of days. It’s something you practice every single day. You wake up in the morning and choose to be sober till you go to bed. And then you wake up the next day to make that choice all over again.”
She exhales loudly. 
She’s been talking too fast.
Tony keeps telling her she talks too much about shows or films she likes.
“All that was just a long-winded way of saying that we cannot make up for what we did. But trying regardless of that? Now that—” she clicks her fingers, “That is what proves them wrong… it’s what makes us good people,” she tells him.
A hint of a smile glints across his face.
Then he asks, “Is that why you do this?”
With furrowed brows, she asks, “You mean this superhero shit?” When he nods, “God no! The hero gig is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done. I do it just for Tony, so there is someone to watch his back when he’s out there because I know for a fact the kid isn’t capable of doing it for himself.” She smiles at the thought of her brother. Shaking her head, she adds, “I—I’m a lawyer. That’s how I decided to help the helpless.” 
“It’s kind of funny I suppose.” Slowly she gets up, standing up on her feet. “If there were an actual scale I’d be a lot more fucked in trying to balance things than you are.” 
“Why would you say that?” He asks, confused. 
As if the answer isn’t fucking obvious. “You were violated, controlled into doing what you did. I on the other hand had a choice—fuck! I was probably the only person in that goddamn place who did!”
“A choice between what? Doing what they told you, or dying at my hands?” He counters, incredulous. His voice rising for the first time.
In the distance, she can hear Steve and Sam parking whatever car they had jacked.
“Just because it wasn’t a good choice, doesn’t mean it wasn’t a choice.”
He doesn’t understand. He can’t.
What he went through was beyond horrible. But it wasn’t like that for her. Every single step of the way, and every single time she chose the easy way out. She chose self-preservation over what was the right thing to do. She was selfish, dangerously so. 
Therefore it’s only fair that the price for her freedom should be higher.
How can he not see that?
His jaw clenches at her words, “You’re a hypocrite.”
As Sam and Steve make their way inside the warehouse, she puts her hands inside her pocket turning away from him, she smiles, “33 sentences in half a century, Sergeant.” She turns her head to look at him again, “You do not know me.”
And just like that, the unspoken truce they’d agreed upon has been violated.
When Sam and Steve enter the room, the tension is so palpable Sam asks cautiously, “I feel like we’re interrupting something. Should we step out?” 
“Nah, we’re done here.” With that, she turns around and walks out.
Read next part here. Find the series masterlist here. Find other Static Verse works here.
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buckyalpine · 3 months
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Imagine you get into the holiday spirt with the cutest Christmas sweater, the fluffiest socks and these adorable bells in your hair. You're running around the compound with hot chocolate and cookies, the jingle of your bells ringing with each step. Everyone things its adorable. You're like a little elf, busy in your workshop (the kitchen), surrounded by marshmallows, whipped cream, delivering mugs of creamy sweetness along with homemade gingerbread men.
Everyone finds it so cute.
Everyone except Bucky.
Bucky hates it.
He hates the little tinkle he hears with each footstep you take.
Why?
Because his mind is in the gutter.
Your running around looking all cute and sweet and innocent and all he can think about is how gorgeous those bells would sound as he railed you with his cock.
He decided to stay in his room, hoping a book would calm him down but who was he kidding, his enhanced hearing meant he could hear you scurry around down the hall towards his room, and holy shit, if he could just grab your hair and bend you over-
"Bucky!" You lightly knocked at his door before popping your head in with a cheery smile, holding a mug of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and plenty of whipped cream. No matter how intimidating Bucky painted himself out to be, you knew the soldier loved all the little extra toppings, especially after you caught him adding extra whipped cream when no one was looking.
"Hey" Bucky's voice came out more strained than intended, hoping to will his erection away which currently throbbed with need.
"I brought you hot chocolate" You stepped into his room, pausing when Bucky's smiled looked more like a grimace as he shifted from his place sitting against the headboard.
"Is-is everything okay?" You ask, padding towards him and he can't even hide the tent in his sweats, setting down the book he was reading to try and cover himself.
"Of course-yeah-thanks y/n" He rasped out as you came over and handed him the mug, your sweet scent of vanilla, sugar and spices only making it harder for him to keep his hands to himself.
"Are you sure you're okay?" You could tell Bucky was tensed, chewing his lip without meeting your eyes which was strange considering he was normally fine around you.
"Wouldn't be able to tell you sweets" Bucky chuckled to himself with a sigh rubbing the back of his neck while you cocked your head to the side, the tiny movement making the bells ring again.
Fuck.
"I don't think you'd want to help with something like this doll"
"Try me"
-
"OH" *jingle* "MY" *jingle* "GOD" You wailed, your bells ringing with each thrust as Bucky's cock slammed into you, his hands squeezing your hips as he fucked you from behind. He had you on your hands and knees after tearing your clothes of, loving the needy little whimper you let out after you caught a glimpse of his rock hard cock pressing against his sweats.
"That's it baby, that's it, sound so pretty with those cute little bells in your hair" Bucky groaned, biting his lip to keep his voice down as he fucked you harder, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, "Look at how you're taking all of me baby, taking my big dick so well, such a good. Girl"
"More, want-more" you hiccupped, tears from pleasure streaking down your face, squealing when Bucky's hand spanked your ass before pulling out and manhandling you till you were on top. You whined, your lips pulled into a pout, all naked on top of the soldier except for the bells in your hair, your needy pussy clamping down on him. You pawed at his hand, tugging it to where you needed him most, moaning when he used his thumb to rub your clit, smirking at your fucked out state.
"Aww babygirl, are you too cockdrunk to fuck yourself on my dick" Bucky cooed as you squirmed on top of him, sloppily grinding yourself, your greedy cunt begging for anything he'd give you. You
"Fuck you're such a little slut" Bucky gritted out as he planted his feet against the mattress and started to fuck up into you, your boobs bouncing in his face matching the dainty rings every time he thrusted his hips up. "Want you under that goddamn tree and nothing else baby, gonna fuck you on every surface of his place"
Bucky could only take so much, his balls pulling tight to his body, cum desperate to blow and paint your walls, your pleasure contorted face all just for him.
"Walking around with these fuckin' bells, making my cock so hard, lookit how pretty you sound now baby, fuck y/n, m'gonna cum!"
"C-cum in me Bucky" You cried out, sobbing in pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you, collapsing against his chest as he fucked you through your high.
"That's it baby, milk my cock, that's what I want for Christmas, wanna empty my balls in you, fuck-oh fuck-milk it baby, shitt!" Bucky bit down on your shoulder to muffle his loud moans, shoving his dick in as far as it would go as he started to throb ropes of his spend into you.
That was round 1.
-
"You look like you've seen a ghost" Tony snorted as he saw Sam and Steve enter the living room, the captain's face pale in shock while Sam couldn't stop grinning. "What happened. We're gonna start the movie soon, where's metal man and y/n"
Steve went beet red while Sam cackled, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Making their own rendition of Jingle Bells"
Anyway, I'm sorry for giving you debauched instead of wholesome plots, MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS (the filthy part is for me @ myself)
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romanoffshouse · 5 months
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[Natasha speaking Russian]
Y/N, sighing: Yeah, I know.
Tony: You speak Russian?
Y/N: No. I just know the phrase, "This is all your fault"
Y/N: She says it a lot.
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marvelouslizzie · 6 months
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Not Lonely Anymore
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summary: You hear your roommate Bucky Barnes moan your name while masturbating and it changes everything between you two.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
word count: 3K
warnings: 18+, dry jumping (brief), unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, choking, teasing, dirty talk, no mention of y/n.
A/N: Hello hello! I present you the last part of my Lonely Night series. I am so grateful for your interest in the first two parts. I tried to keep my motivation up and give these two perverts a satisfying ending. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. Your feedback would be much appreciated.
You don't have to read the first two parts to understand what's going on but if you want to, please check my blog/masterlist for A Lonely Night and Same Lonely Night.
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Daddy kink and choking is for you ✌️
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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You can’t take your eyes off Bucky while you're processing what has just happened. Your eyes roam around his face and bare chest before falling on his shorts. His erection is pressed against the waistband, carefully hidden away from you but the wetness forming on the fabric betrays Bucky’s intentions. You can’t contain your smile, but Bucky doesn’t see it. He’s too lost in his own thoughts, and when your eyes meet, you realize he is worried and embarrassed. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something in order to end this awkward silence, but you beat him to it.
“Did you just say my name?” It comes out so calm, you even surprise yourself.
You know he did. You heard it with your own ears loud and clear. That’s why you dropped your glass after all. But it was that shocking to you. That unbelievable! So you just want him to confirm it. To make it real and assure you that really happened. Maybe then you will be able to believe it.
“I- I can explain.” You notice the cold sweat forming on his forehead.
He seems like a scared kid who got caught doing something he shouldn’t do. And it’s probably because he thinks he might lose you. You would feel the same way if he was the one who caught you masturbating just an hour ago. God, that would be mortifying, but now that you are on the other side of the equation, all you feel is excitement.
The realization eventually sinks in: he wants you. He actually wants you. That gives you a level of confidence you never had before.
You take a step forward and close the distance. Your lips are on his before he can react. You wanted to do this for a long time, but you had been unsure if he would have wanted it or not. You have a clear answer now, so there’s no need to hold yourself back. It takes him a second to respond to you, but you don’t hesitate. You just keep kissing him and it wakes him up like he has been hibernating for a long time.
His hands wrap around your torso and he pulls you closer. His fingers are digging into your hips like he’s trying to convince himself this is real, and he tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue gently slides into your mouth and that makes you moan for the first time. His lips, his tongue… He tastes so sweet. You just can’t get enough of it. It makes you crave him even more, and you don’t know how that is even possible.
Suddenly you push him, hoping to get him back inside his bedroom, but he doesn’t move an inch. He just gives you a dazed look, trying to understand why you did that.
“Work with me. Just move back.” You sound impatient, and he finally understands what you are trying to do.
“Fine.” He raises both of his hands like he’s surrendering, with a smile on his face, then he takes a step back and lets you push him further inside the room. You continue until the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls onto it after one final push.
“Is that what you wanted?” He sounds amused.
“Yeah.” You straddle him without missing a beat, getting comfortable on his lap while he pulls you in for another kiss.
This time it feels a little different. His hands are on your cheeks, holding you still while his tongue explores your mouth. It is the most passionate kiss you have ever had in your life. His erection is standing right there, between your legs and you can’t help yourself… You can’t stop that urge that’s slowly building up and why would you? You’re on his lap, finally doing this. There’s no need to stop yourself from doing what you want. So while he tastes you however he wants, you start to move your hips. After a couple of tries, you find the perfect spot and both of you moan nearly at the same.
He stops kissing you for a second just to take a breath, but he still holds your cheeks with his big hands and looks into your eyes. It’s like he’s afraid you might disappear. You have no plans of disappearing or stopping, though. You keep moving your hips and watching his eyes flutter every time you rub the right spot. It feels good even with the fabric between you two. Yet it’s not enough.
“We should get rid of your shorts.”
“And your panties.”
You raise yourself on your knees, just enough for him to push his shorts down, but you don't give him enough space to take them off completely.
“I don’t wanna use any protection. Do we have to?”
“Well, we don’t have to, but we might need to.” He’s not sure how fertile he is. It’s not like he tried it before, so it’s quite risky. All he knows is he has a lot more come than an average man and that’s a problem when it comes to using condoms. They are practically useless.
“I’m on the pill.” You quickly clarify. You only asked the question to see if he was comfortable with the idea or not.
“Then we definitely don’t need to.” Oh, he’s definitely comfortable. The way he just said it is enough.
He grabs his cock while you pull your panties aside without wasting any time, and you lower yourself onto him while balancing yourself with one arm on his shoulder.
“That impatient?” He taunts you, but he chokes on his words as soon as he feels your wetness. The head of his cock rests between your folds while you answer him:
“Are you not?” You sound relatively normal. Then you keep talking while taking him inch by inch. “Would you rather fuck your fist and fantasize about me?”
He wants to answer you. He wants to say something, but being balls deep inside you makes it harder to do so. He just lets out a low groan while grabbing your ass to ground himself.
You’re not so different from him. The way he stretches you pulls a pornographic moan out of you. You sit still for a second, trying to get used to this feeling. You can’t remember the last time you felt this full. It makes you shiver even without moving. You take your time and he just waits, patiently until you get used to the sensation. After a couple of seconds, you feel confident enough to move.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” There’s a bit of hesitation in his voice, but you don’t notice it because you are lost in the feeling of finally being so full. All of your senses are overwhelmed by it.
You aren’t sure if it’s going to hurt because he’s definitely the biggest you have ever had. So you move your hips slowly and test the waters. There’s something there. Some kind of discomfort. You can’t say you feel uncomfortable, you just need to get used to his size. So you keep moving because there’s this promise of pleasure hidden behind that discomfort. You can nearly taste it and it keeps you going. While trying to figure out the best way to move, you don’t realize Bucky is watching you, carefully. He’s trying to read your expression and see if you are okay. He’s ready to take up the reins or just stop if that’s what you need. His hands gently roam your body, discovering little details about your skin. Like how many moles you actually have.
“No rush. Take your time.” He sounds more like himself, much more confident than before.
You moan because of his words. His voice is deeper and it makes your blood rush. You start to move a little faster and notice how the discomfort slowly fades away. He notices that, too while grabbing your tits with both of his hands. One is colder than the other, and the contrast is dizzying. You lean into him, just to feel him a little bit more, and his grip on your tits tightens.
“God, so fucking pretty!”
Before you can say anything, his mouth is on your right nipple. You feel his tongue flicking over and over again while his other hand rests on the other breast. Then he sucks your nipple into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it. You grunt because of the mixed sensations. Just when you are about to protest, he lets out your nipple and moves on to the other one. He gives it the same treatment. A mix of licking, sucking, and biting until you can’t contain your movements. Your hips start to move so much faster, making both of you moan loudly.
“God, I wanted to do this for ages!” The words spill out from your lips without much of a thought.
“You did?” He doesn’t miss a beat.
“Yeah.” There’s no point in hiding it anymore, is there?
“Does this mean I am the daddy?”
His question catches you off guard, and you just freeze in the middle of the action.
“You… heard me.” It comes out more like a question rather than a statement.
“Why do you think I was masturbating?”
It takes you a couple of seconds to process what he's just said. He actually heard you. You never used his name, but it doesn’t change the fact that he witnessed something so private. Something you really wanted to hide from him, yet the idea of him hearing you also sets you on fire. Instead of submitting to the urge to get all shy, you decide to ask him what you actually want to know.
“You heard me and instead of making a move, you decided to fuck your fist?”
“What was I supposed to do? Knock on your door and ask if I can replace your dildo?”
“Yeah. Sounds great to me.” You keep moving your hips fast while talking. “Or maybe you are too shy to take what you really want.”
“Shy?” He blinks a couple of times.
“You don’t seem shy but maybe you are. Maybe you are a submissive little boy who wants to just lay here and take whatever I give you.”
You watch his expression change into something so different. It’s not particularly dark, but it feels like it. Before you can say anything else, he just flips you over. Your mouth falls open when your back touches the bed. Instinctively, you try to wrap your legs around his torso, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, he pushes your knees back to your chest.
“What are you doing?” Your amazement is evident in your voice.
“Taking what I really want.” It takes a lot of effort to hide your smile. You can’t believe your taunting worked that quickly. “Tell me if it gets too much and I will stop.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
He waits for you to finish talking and then he starts to move. Your mouth falls open once again but this time, it’s not because you are surprised. It’s because you can’t believe how good it feels. It’s completely different than how it felt when you were on his lap. He reaches deeper inside you in this position, and his hands are still on your legs, pushing you further into the bed. You let out another sinful moan.
“Way better than I imagined.”
“Is it?” A smile lingers on his lips. “Feel free to be as loud as you want.”
“Do you want us to get kicked out of this apartment?” It takes every ounce of strength in you to form this sentence without stuttering. It’s so hard to talk like you aren’t getting railed.
“No, I just wanna hear you call me daddy.”
You can’t help but moan. Shit, he really heard everything. You feel so exposed, but somehow it doesn’t bother you. Is he actually into this? Who could’ve guessed?
“If you want that, you gotta work harder than this.”
“Ask for it.”
“Harder, please.” He waits for daddy to come out of your mouth, but it doesn’t. You really meant what you just said, he needs to earn it.
So that’s exactly what he does. He starts to pound you, just the way you fantasized. He manages to touch every part inside you and fills up in a way that makes you wanna cry. Your moans get louder with each thrust.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Your ears start to buzz. You can feel that your orgasm is close.
“Talk to me, doll.”
He wants to hear you, and you don’t feel like holding back anymore.
“I’m-I’m so close, Bucky.”
“What do you need?” His question is instant. You feel that he’s ready to do whatever you want.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You take a deep breath just to be able to keep talking. “Just keep going. Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetic, but you can’t brush off the urge to beg him. He would like that, wouldn’t he? You did it while masturbating and he got a hard-on just because of you. “Please, please, please.”
Your words make him groan like he is struggling to contain his excitement.
“I really need it, daddy, please…”
“Fuck, baby.” You feel him losing control. His thrusts are sloppier but he notices that, too. His metal arm moves on your chest and rests there. You don’t know if he’s trying to keep you still or ground himself. Then he looks directly into your eyes, trying to see if that makes you uncomfortable or not. It definitely doesn’t. Quite the opposite, you need his hand on your neck, and you gently grab his metal hand and move it on your neck without breaking eye contact. You watch his eyes widen with the realization.
“Are you sure?” You nod in response, but it’s not good enough for him. “Words, baby. I need actual words.”
“Please.”
That does it. His fingers tighten around your neck, pressing right against your veins, careful not to crush your windpipe.
“Yess.” Your head is thrown back. This is exactly what you wanted.
The way he’s choking you snaps something inside you. It intensifies everything you are feeling at that moment. Your whole body suddenly starts to shake, and it surprises you. You have never reached an orgasm this quickly before.
“Yes, yes, yes. Oh god, yes!” Your voice comes out hoarser than usual.
“Look at you.” He taps his fingers on your neck while he keeps moving. “My pretty baby. So good for me.”
You only moan in response, already too lost in the waves of your orgasm. It’s running through your whole body like electricity.
“Look at me! Look into my eyes.” He sounds so commanding and you listen to him even though it’s so hard to do it. He looks like he’s about to lose it, too.
“Come with me. P-please.”
“You want me to come, baby?” He asks in a way that makes you wanna cry out even more. Like he won’t come if that’s what you want. He will keep holding back until you say so but you don’t want that. You want him to enjoy this as much as you do.
“Please, daddy. Come with me.” He groans in response. You clearly see how your words affect him, especially calling him daddy. You can’t believe how much he’s into it.
He stops holding back and starts to move in a way that makes you scream. So you do that. You can’t contain the noises you make when he moves like this. You grip on his sheets, letting him ruin you for any other man.
“Fuck! Such pretty sounds… You like it that much, baby?”
“Yes, yes. So good, daddy.” You slur at the last part. You don’t care. You don’t care about anything when he makes you feel like this.
“Fuck, you take me so well.” You can actually hear that he’s close. “I-I’m gonna come, oh fuck.”
“Yess!” You have been waiting for this. You want it so badly. You wanna see him come. You want him to feel good, all because of you. You want to witness a part of him that he hides away from everyone else. It feels like owning a part of him. So private and primitive, but you don’t care. You need this.
He lets out the most guttural moan right before starting to come inside you. He doesn’t stop, just keeps the same pace, emptying himself inside you.
“Take it, baby. Take it! It’s all yours.” You know what he’s talking about. His come is already dripping out, yet he’s not done coming.
It looks like he lost his damn mind, but it’s the hottest thing you have ever witnessed in your life. You are so fascinated by him even though you are still coming yourself. That's why you force yourself to keep your eyes open and watch him while your high slowly fades away. Yet he keeps going. His hands are gripping on your tights, pulling you into him every time he moves. His come is dripping on your ass, to the sheets. It’s so messy but feels out of this world.
After a couple more thrusts, he collapses on top of you. His head rests on the crook of your neck, and you feel his heavy breathing on your skin. You don’t mind it, though. He doesn’t let his whole weight crush you. Always so thoughtful….
Your hands go to his hair, gently stroking it. That makes him move his head and look at you.
“We should’ve done this before.” That makes you wanna laugh, but instead, you just give him a huge smile.
“Yes, we should have. It was amazing.”
Suddenly he moves away from you, leaving you completely empty. It makes you whine instantly. You miss the fullness and the warmth of his cock already.
“Where are you going?” You give him a confused look while raising yourself on the bed. “Come back here.”
“Not was.” He kneels right next to the bed, in between your legs, and moves his head closer to your dripping core. “I’m not done with you, baby.”
6K notes · View notes
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Sam: Bucky isn’t answering his phone.
Y/N: I’ll call him.
Steve: Sam and I have both tried six times. What makes you think—
Bucky: Hey, doll.
2K notes · View notes
girlygirl14534 · 2 months
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Body Heat - Bucky x Reader
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Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader
Warnings: Smut, Cock Warming, Snowed In, Only One Bed
Length: 3.7k
Summary: A blizzard knocks out the power in the safehouse where you and Bucky are sharing a bed. Can Bucky keep you warm through the cold night?
Author’s Note: It has been so cold where I live lately and there’s nobody better than Bucky to warm me up. I’m entering this work into @targaryenvampireslayer Blind Date Writing Challenge. I don’t participate in a lot of fandom events, so this was really fun! I used the Only One Bed trope and the Dialogue Prompts “Take your clothes off. Right now,” and “Are you holding back? Don’t.” Happy reading and stay warm! Divider via @firefly-graphics
Read this work on AO3
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“You didn’t even want to get egg rolls,” Bucky whined as you grabbed one off of his plate.
You grinned as you bit into it. He smiled back at you, but his shoulders shifted ever so slightly, tipping you off to his next move. His chopsticks swooped onto your plate in retaliation, but you were ready for him, blocking his attempt on your orange chicken.
He glared at you and you relented. He popped the chicken into his mouth with a satisfied smirk. You rolled your eyes at him and took a sip of your beer. It was a local brew. A little hoppy but not too bitter, with a surprisingly crisp taste. You loved trying beers at every new little town you ended up at. Nothing beat a cold beer after a long mission, even if it was 20 degrees and dropping outside.
It was warm and cozy inside the little cabin. This safe house was cuter than most. It had a little wood stove and lace tablecloth—definitely grandmother-approved. The place was small, but you’d stayed at smaller ones. Although most had at least a few twin size cots. The bed here looked comfortable, but there was only one.
“It’s picking up out there,” Bucky nodded at the window. Outside you could see the snow swirling in the wind.
“The Winter Soldier scared of a little snow?” you teased.
“Oh, shut up. You wouldn’t last ten seconds out there. Remember Helsinki?”
“That is so unfair! I fell into a frozen pond!”
“I told you not to walk on that patch of ice!”
“You were being a know-it-all.”
“That’s because I actually know it all.”
You threw your half-eaten egg roll at him.
“You didn’t even eat it?!”
You shrugged and he glared at you as he finished it. After dinner, you got ready for bed. It had been a long day. When Bucky came out of the shower, you were already under the paisley-printed covers.
He grinned at you. “That’s my favorite bonnet,” he said, nodding at the silky cap on your head.
“You have favorite bonnets of mine?”
He shrugged. “I’ve seen you in enough of them. I love the one with rhinestones on the headband. You look like a queen. The Kirby one is really cute, too.”
“Nice try, Bucky.” You threw a pillow at him. “You’re still sleeping on the floor.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
You knew he was going to jump on the bed a second before he did it, but you didn’t stop him. He looked so satisfied with himself.
“Time for bed,” you said as you started stacking pillows on the bed between you.
“Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off of me?” he teased.
“Don’t think I forgot how you hogged the couch in Bangladesh.”
“I maintain that you rolled off of the couch by yourself.”
“Well then consider it protection from me rolling you off the bed.”
He laughed as you finished the wall of pillows, marking your territory. You were just grateful that the bed was big enough to have your own space and that there were enough blankets that you wouldn’t have to share. You loved Bucky, but in your friendship you were more likely to trade insults than share the covers. Was there something more behind the words you traded? Maybe. Sometimes it felt obvious that he felt the same and other times you were certain that he just saw you as a friend.
If you were just friends, you were friends that lived and worked in very close quarters. You’d had a lot of hands-on moments working the mission with him today. If you had a little more privacy, you’d probably be touching yourself right now thinking about the weight of him on top of you as he tackled you to the ground to protect you, his hair tickling your face as he whispered a new tactical plan into your ear. Instead you were stuck here, close but not close enough. You sighed in frustration.
“Need a bedtime story?” Bucky asked.
“Once upon a time, a former assassin wouldn’t shut up while his teammate tried to sleep.”
“Teammate? That’s all I am to you?” he asked. The hurt and offense in his voice almost sounded real.
“What do you want to be described as?” you asked.
“Just get some sleep, princess.”
You chuckled and rolled over, soon falling asleep. You dreamt of him, of course. Of his hands on you. One warm, one cold. And then it was just his left hand. It was so cold. You let him keep touching you, of course. You didn’t care if you got frostbite. You just wanted him to keep touching you.
You were pissed when you woke up before you could climax. But you quickly realized it wasn’t just cold in your dream. Your teeth were chattering in real life.
“Fuck. It’s freezing,” you said.
“Power’s out,” Bucky said. “Must be the storm.”
“Can we make a fire?”
“I checked. The stove is electric.”
“Are you sure? That thing looks older than you.”
Bucky laughed. “I think I saw a few candles in the cupboard.” He got up and rummaged around in the kitchen. He lit them and placed them around the room.
“Bring one here. Maybe I can warm my hands.”
He laughed as he flopped back onto his side of the bed. “I know it’s cold in here. With the blizzard, there’s no way we’ll make it down the mountain. In the morning, we can—”
“I’m not gonna make it to morning! Feel my fingers!”
Bucky outstretched his right hand toward you, smiling in amusement at what he assumed was exaggeration. When you touched him, his expression changed to one of concern. Maybe things were worse than you thought. Maybe it really was frostbite. Bucky started taking down the pillow barrier.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“You’re right,” he said as he threw pillows over his shoulder and onto the floor.
“Oooh, say that again.”
He laughed. “It’s too cold in here. You need body heat.”
You rolled your eyes but he kept moving pillows. “You’re serious?”
He nodded as he got rid of the last pillow. He awkwardly opened his arms. You scooted closer to him. This wasn’t how you wanted his arms around you, but you were too cold to deny him. He wrapped his big, strong arms around you. You relaxed into his embrace, and not just because of the warmth. He held you tight to him and you would’ve stayed just like forever, but you were still shivering. It felt like the chill had settled into your bones. The extra warmth from Bucky was only making it more obvious just how cold it was in the tiny cabin.
“We need skin to skin,” Bucky said.
You laughed but he didn’t.
“Take your clothes off. Right now,” he said.
Maybe the frigid air was impacting your decision-making, because instead of denying him, you complied. Tried to, anyway. Your fingers were so numb from the cold that you fumbled with the hem of your shirt. He gently nudged your fingers aside and helped you out of your shirt. You’d imagined the first time he took your clothes off a little differently, but you couldn’t care about that now. Once your shirt was off, he took his off too.
He hugged you again then. Your bare skin felt electrified where it touched his. He held your hands to his chest to warm them. With his hardened pecs beneath your fingers, it took all of your willpower not to squeeze.
“Is that better?” he asked.
You nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. You stayed like that for a few minutes, afraid to move. Afraid that at some point he’d decide that you were warm enough. You weren’t warm enough. In any sense. You needed him closer for survival, but it became increasingly difficult to tell if you needed him because you were cold or because you were horny.
“You’re not warm enough,” he said finally. You didn’t argue.
When he pulled away, the sudden loss of warmth made your body tense up. He immediately placed his arms around you again.
“I won’t let go of you anymore, okay?”
You hated how pathetic your voice sounded when you responded, “Okay.”
His arm reached between your bodies to pull his pants down. You told yourself that you weren’t going to look, but your eyes had a mind of their own. You watched his fingers grip his waistband and tug down his boxers and his pants. Suddenly he was naked. Even in the dim lighting, you could see how big he was. His eyes went straight to yours to check in, but he found no objection. You looked away to be polite, but felt too awkward to look into his eyes. You turned around so that your back was to his chest. You were grateful that he couldn’t see your face when he started to pull your pants down. If he was hesitant about this plan, his movements didn’t show it. He was smooth and deliberate, quickly ridding you of your pajamas and underwear. When you were both undressed, he pulled you close. When you felt his cock against your ass, you shivered, and it wasn’t because of the freezing temperatures.
“That’s it,” he said. “Turn over.”
He didn’t wait for you to move, effortlessly pulling you onto your back and laying on top of you. Bucky was naked. You were naked. And he was on top of you. You were short of breath just thinking about it.
“Don’t tell me I’m taking your breath away,” he teased.
“You’re heavy,” you retorted. “I think you may need to start laying off the eggrolls.”
As you laughed together, you became hyper aware of how close your bodies were, of just how much physical contact you had. The laughing stopped abruptly.
“Why didn’t you take off my bra?” you whispered. “Afraid that once you see these you’ll be ruined for all other boobs?”
“Yes,” he nodded as he reached under you, large hands rubbing your back and unhooking the clasp. He slowly slid your straps down your arms. He looked into your eyes as he pulled your bra from between your bodies and threw it onto the floor.
Here you were, caged in his warmth, looking deep into his eyes like in one of your fantasies. And yet your instinct was to make a stupid joke, find some way to make this feel less serious. But you couldn’t think straight with his dick resting on your stomach and his warm breath on your face.
“Better?” he asked.
“Eh. Still a little chilly,” you joked breathlessly.
“I can get you warmer,” he said seriously.
You laughed. “I don’t think we could physically be any closer than we are right now.”
He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Well, technically we could be a little closer.”
“Barnes, if I go outside in the morning and find out that you cut the powerlines…”
“I can’t have you dying of hypothermia on my watch. I don’t have to move or anything. Just to keep you warm.”
You wanted to roll your eyes and hit him on the arm, but his sincerity caught you off guard.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I’m not a fan of the cold either. I’ve spent too much of my life frozen already. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought…”
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded. “And don’t worry, when I tell Nat this story, I won’t even mention the shrinkage.”
He laughed with you and then shook his head at you.
“What am I gonna do with you?” he asked.
“Stick your dick in me, apparently.”
He swallowed nervously. “Are you…? Are you ready?” he asked.
You nodded, hoping he wouldn’t question how wet you were already. You certainly weren’t going to bring up the fact that you had felt his length slowly hardening against you for the last few minutes.
“I, uh, just gotta…” He reached down to pump himself a few times, looking anywhere but you. You wanted to change that.
“You can look at me, Bucky.”
His eyes found yours. You’d never seen this expression on his face before. He was never this easy to read. Even though he’d beaten the Winter Soldier programming, he usually always kept a part of himself closed off. Those defenses were gone now. In their place was yearning. A desire so deep it was overwhelming. The way he looked at you was the same way you felt about him.
You arched your back, drawing attention to your chest. “You can also look here, if it helps.”
He looked at your breasts for the first time. His mouth fell open in awe. You hoped you really were ruining him for other women. You hoped he would never look at anyone else like this for as long as he lived. His eyes went from your chest back to your face as he shifted between your legs. You bit your lip when you felt the head of his cock prod your entrance. It would take everything in your power not to moan. This was probably a very bad idea. But still you let your legs fall open wider to give him easier access.
When he first pushed in, you drew a shaky breath. He stopped moving, eyes anxiously searching yours. He was terrified you’d ask him to stop. Quite the contrary.
“That all you got?” you asked.
He smirked at you before resuming his progress. Despite your earlier joke, you felt your walls stretch around him as he pushed further into you. You felt every single inch, but it was torture not being able to wrap your legs around his hips or claw at his back like you wanted to.
When he was fully seated, he stilled. You took a few deep breaths. It was dizzying, being this close to him, this full of him. It was his turn to tell you, “You can look at me, ya know.”
You looked at him in the flickering candlelight. His hair obscured your view of his face. You reached up and tucked it behind his ear. He nuzzled his face against your hand. Your heart skipped a beat. You could feel his warm cock throbbing inside of you. He was looking at you so romantically that you forgot where you were for a moment. Your body did, too. Your pussy clenched around him. You didn’t get a chance to wonder if he’d felt it. You heard him groan. Right before you felt him thrust.
His eyes darted to you, panicked. You’d seen him panic once before, as he pulled you out of the ice in Finland. That day he’d warmed you up by the fire with plenty of hot drinks and some light teasing. You preferred the current method of warming you up. Which is why you let him hear you. You moaned for him. If you’d been less desperate for him to fuck you, you would’ve been embarassed by how needy you sounded. It was nothing compared to the strangled cry Bucky let out with his second thrust. You expected him to keep moving, but he stopped again. He leaned in, eyes urgent.
“The first time I saw you,” he panted, “I knew you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever—”
Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t have him saying things he didn’t mean. “You don’t have to flatter me, Buck—”
“It’s not flattery if it’s true. And you are so beautiful.”
You placed your hands behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss. You weren’t sure what it was going to be like, your first kiss with Bucky. Especially since that first kiss was occurring after he was already inside of you. When your lips touched, you both sighed with relief. His lips were soft. You weren’t expecting that. His tongue probed your lips gently, and you gladly gave it access. He kissed you slowly, like he was savoring every second. He cupped your breast with his right hand, softly stroking it. His touches were almost reverent. It would’ve been romantic if you weren’t so needy. There’d be time for slow and steady. You hoped so, anyway. Right now you needed fire. You needed his touch to chase away the cold.
“Are you holding back on me, Barnes? Don’t.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. He bent his head and attached his lips to your neck. He pulled the delicate flesh between his teeth as the hand on your breast eagerly squeezed. His metal hand tightened its grip on your hip. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d have a bruise in the shape of his handprint tomorrow. Proof that this had actually happened. Proof it wasn’t just the best dream of your life.
Maybe you wanted to mark him, too. Maybe that’s why you tangled your fingers in his hair while you raked the nails of the other hand down his back. He grunted as he drove into you with renewed force, the headboard rattling against the wall.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so wet. So tight. So perfect. Even better than I—” he stopped himself.
“Better than you imagined?” you suggested.
He nodded.
“You imagine me?” you asked, breathless.
“Every day,” he confessed.
You moved your hips in time with his next stroke, taking him deeper than ever. You both cursed. With each thrust, you knew things would never be the same. With each thrust, you got more and more desperate for him to ruin you. You writhed desperately under him and he only gripped you tighter, forcing you to stay still and accept your pleasure like a good girl. He angled his hips so that he was massaging your g-spot with every thrust. The head of his cock dragged against your center of pleasure over and over again in a relentless pursuit for your climax. You wanted to beg him to fuck you harder and faster but you didn’t want this to end yet. Not until he was as ruined as you were.
You took your hands away from him and brought them to your chest. You gripped your breasts tightly and moaned. He was mesmerized. You pinched your nipples and rolled your hips, putting on a show for him. You needed to know that he would never forget this. That he would never forget you. You tugged on your nipples and cried his name.
“That’s my job,” he said. You smirked at him.
You put your fingers in his open mouth and brought them to your clit and started rubbing slow circles. You watched his eyes darken. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth again, closing his eyes in pleasure as he licked your fingers clean. Instead of putting your hand back where he found it, he brought his metal fingers to your clit instead, taking over your ministrations there. The cold, hard metal rhythmically massaged the sensitive bundle of nerves until his name was the only word in your vocabulary.
You wouldn’t last much longer. You’d see to it that neither would he. You attached your lips to his neck and sucked a bruise into the skin. His fingers on your clit went from slow circles to frantic figure 8s. Your back arched in pleasure as you felt your walls tighten around Bucky’s cock. His hips stuttered as he flooded you with warmth. Your legs shook when you felt him fill you. You whimpered his name. He whispered yours. Before you could even catch your breath, it happened.
You both knew the second the power turned back on. The hum of the fridge, the rattle of the old radiator, the red “Off” light on the coffee pot. It was like a bomb going off in the bubble you’d built. You looked at each other, startled, as if you were just realizing the extent of what you had done. For a split second, you considered pulling away from him and getting dressed, pretending none of this had ever happened. But you didn’t want that, not while his cum was still warm inside you and aftershocks of your orgasm were still rocking your core. You two spoke at the same time.
“It’ll probably take a while before you’re warm eno—”
“The power could go off again at any mo—”
“Sorry—”
“What were you saying—”
You both chuckled self-consciously.
“You love being inside me, don’t you, Barnes?” you teased with no taunting in your voice. You felt his dick twitch. You rolled your hips. “Is that a yes?”
He bit his lip and looked at you with more than lust. It was devotion.
“Yes,” he said finally.
“Good. Because you’re the only one that can keep me warm.”
“What about me?” he asked.
You looked at him, perplexed.
“I get cold, too.”
“What can I warm up for you, Bucky?”
“My ears are kinda cold,” he said.
Oh. Not exactly what you were thinking about warming up, but ok. You reached out to stroke the side of his face. He smiled and blushed, but nuzzled into your hand.
“Your thighs should be pretty warm now…”
Oh. Your thighs could keep his ears warm. You would happily straddle his face in the name of reciprocity. It was the least you could do, right?
The next morning, you woke up wrapped in Bucky’s arms. The heat hadn’t gone out again during the night, but you still felt like you needed Bucky’s warmth.
“I didn’t tamper with the generator,” Bucky said. “But I should have. I should’ve warmed you up like that when you fell into the lake.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Would you have let me?”
You nodded.
“You would have?!”
“I bought the Kirby bonnet for you,” you confessed.
“What?”
“I know how much you like playing Mario Kart with Sam. I thought you’d like it. I thought maybe it’d make you like me.”
He scoffed. “Are you kidding? By that point, I was already in lo—I mean, I, uh. I really do love Mario Kart, you’re right.”
“Nice save.”
“Let me take you out on a proper date.”
“One condition.”
“Anything.”
“Has to be somewhere warm.”
You shared a laugh.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he smirked.
Want to read more of my writing? Check out my ongoing Stucky x Reader series.
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winterarmyy · 2 months
Text
Kiss It Better
A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of. 
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Summary: In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.
Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader
Words: 3.2k++
Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, cum eating, soft fluff, not much of angst but there's sprinkles of feels, body insecurities, bucky is in love and in heat tbh, i think he is particularly unhinged and filthy in this one but hey, you tell me. idk if i need to remind y'all about this but english is not my first language so my grammar are prolly fucked. Anyway--
Inspiration: Guess who felt a little soft and decided to wear a skirt to work? Yup, that would be me. No, because I commute to work (or basically anywhere) and there is quite a distance of walking in between the journey. Note that your girl here walk fast asf (basically running at this point).  And because them inner thighs ain't got no gap between them, so i got myself some blisters/chafing :') then i fell into a self-deprecating despair for the whole day and it hurts whenever i walk, at that time i just want Bucky to kiss it better. Fast forward a few days later, here we are.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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She could feel it. His burning gaze following her every move. Observing, calculating. And she knew that must not show any signs of discomfort; not on her face nor from the slightest jolts of her hips. She must not gave him a reason to question her.
She can't.
So she continue walking around their room, back and forth from the bathroom to the wardrobe, as if every step she took was followed by a burning sensation on her skin. She momentarily stood in front of the row of clothes hanging on the rack, her back facing the bed where Bucky had been sprawling on since she went in for a shower.
Honestly, she was standing there suspiciously 'too long', as if she was choosing an outfit for a date night, when clearly she was just getting ready for bed. When she realized that, she quickly pulled out a clean set of pyjamas and walk back into the bathroom.
Bucky's eagle eyes followed her figure, disappearing behind the locked door. His lips pursed as his cogs of thoughts spins around, trying to find answer a question that his lover keeps avoiding but it was useless.
He can't think straight. Especially when he was undeniably famished. He had not got a taste of her his sweet pussy for about 2 weeks now and he was quite literally about lose his fucking mind. 
When his sweetgirl refuses to go further than kissing and making out, of course he obliged. She has every right to 'no' and he respects her wishes. Then it happened again the next day. And the next. Then again, and again. 
Normally, people would've assumed that maybe she was on her period, and she is not comfortable having any sexual intimacy when menstruating. But, Bucky can tell that, that was not it. Because first of all, it was way too early for that time of the month, he knows her schedule.l very well. Second of all, he would've smell the blood if she was on her period.
Most of his senses are enhanced after all.
So, why was she avoiding it?
Bucky's is completely fine if sex was not something she wanted to do, but not even letting him eat her out? Now that's concerning. At least for him.
Because he needs her. He needs to suck on that needy little clit of hers, make it wet and swollen. He needs to lap on that sweet juices when she cums on his tongue.
Fuck. He's getting all work up now, thinking about it.
He swore that if this keeps going on, one of these days he might just spread his legs and fuck his fist on their bed while she's tied on a chair on the other side of the room. Maybe forcing her; seducing her, to watch his desperate cock become wet and messy would give her a clue of what he is feeling now.
Absolutely needy and deprived of that pretty little cunt of hers.
He was quite distracted with the filfthy thoughts until he heard the clicking sound of the bathroom door unlocked.
As she walked towards the bed, Bucky felt like his lungs stopped providing oxygen through his body, "Pretty." His eyes sparkled affection as the voice in his head echoed his thoughts. It wasn't that he have not seen her in those pyjamas before, he had. Many times in fact. The very same lavender set with tiny little cartoon cats printed all over the fabric.
The same ones that she wore when she came rushing to his side on one of those sleepless night. The time when she hold him close, distracting him away from the nightmare by asking the most random question of "You know, Bucky... These cats supposedly have the same expression, except for one. Do want to try and find it?"
He found it. It was near the hem of her right sleeve. And by that time, his nightmare was no where near his mind, the next thing he knew, he fell right back to sleep with her in his arms. It was his favourite pair of pyjamas that she ever worn.  Nothing compares.
A loving smile unconsciously appeared on his face when his lady threw a sweet smile at him as she walked toward the bed, "My baby's so pretty." He thought.
The grin on his lips lasted, but not for long. Especially when he saw the tiny frown on her face, the faltered steps and when he heard that brief sound of a painful hiss slipped out of her lips.
So the moment she sat down on her side of the bed, Bucky already had his hands on her. Arms instantaneously wrapped around her waist, before effortlessly pulling her back onto his sturdy chest.
She giggled gleefully from his sudden rush of affection  and that surely managed to trigger a chuckle out of Bucky. He hums and proceed to purr in crook of her neck, "What's wrong, baby?"
She could feel his throat rumbling at the back of her neck, "Did he notice it?". Her heart beat ever so slightly picked up its' pace but she planned to act like opposite of it, "Hmm? What do mean 'what's wrong'?" She asked.
Bucky can hear the change tempo coming from within her ribcage, he knew something was wrong, "I just want to know how are you feeling."  He pressed a long and tender kiss on the shoulder.
The warmth of his breath tickled her skin, "Now? Hmm. I feel very loved." She smiled dreamily as she closes her eyes.
Bucky left out a brief laugh at her response, this cheeky little bunny, "That's true, but how are you really feeling, hmm? Like physically?" He urges softly.
She thought about it for awhile; contemplating whether she should just tell him the truth or proceed to act like she okay. Well, she chose the latter, "Hmmm physically. In this position? Very comfy." She wiggled her body back into him, closing the non-existent gap between their bodies and gripping Bucky's arms around her a little tight.
Though her plushy ass was rubbing against his crotch just nicely, but the former winter soldier was not going to let that distract him from his mission. He needs to know what she's hiding behind that sweet smile, "Doll..." his voice was stern and she knew he was not having it.
His calling was only met with silence when she didn't reply verbally. Since she was looking down, Bucky cannot see the frown on face and the wobbling worries in her eyes. But he did picked up on the anxiousness of her heart; beating faster by the second.
"I..." her voice cracked at the first word she said, and Bucky knew he fucked up. He swiftly maneuvered her body to sit on his lap, facing him. His metal hand craddled her soft cheek, and his flesh ones gently caresses her back, "Hey hey hey, doll, what's wrong? Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you." His voice was laced with panic.
When she only had her gaze down, Bucky tenderly coaxed her, "Bunny, look at me." His hand guided her by the chin and when they made eye contact, he apologized again, "I'm sorry. I just want you to feel better. Forgive me." He leaned in a planted a kiss on her forehead. Then, her nose. And her cheeks, all over her face, muttering his words of apology.
She felt bad that Bucky apologized for something that was clearly not his fault. She's the problem in this situation. Her negativity, her insecurity was what drove her away from Bucky for the past 2 weeks. She knew that. And she knew it wasn't fair to him.
Knowing Bucky, he's probably blaming himself for her actions. And she didn't want that. She decided to tell him the truth, "I just..." Anxiety runs through her veins when she thought about it again. Would she be able to handle it if Bucky reacted negatively to her truth? Probably, not. "Just... promise that you won't be disgusted by it... Or get the ick from it."
Bucky frowned in confusion, "I don't even know what 'get the ick' means but I promise." He swore.
She let out a short laugh at his comment, causing him to smile along. Seeing how loving his gaze was, it gave her the strength to confess. She started with explaining how she had been busy at work this month. With launch of the new product, and her being one of th product manager, she was obligated to visit the branches around New York.
Bucky listened to words attentively, at first he thought maybe she was trying to say that she's been stressed lately. But then she started to explained about how she had been wearing skirts to work most of the days, because it was one of the their campaign's rules and Bucky does not think that 'stress' was what this would conclude to.
Nevertheless, he didn't lose his attention.
"But basically what I'm trying to say is..." She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's just... My inner thighs are chafed..." her voice was barely audible at the end of the sentence but Bucky caught it perfectly.
He thought about it for awhile before asking, "So, you mean to say that you got blisters on your inner thighs?" He wanted to confirm that his understanding was accurate.
She looked down in shame as she nodded to his question.
Bucky responded by pulling her closer, and kissed her forehead, "Aww doll. Is this why you've been avoiding me? Because it hurts? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've helped you. I mean I could help apply some meds or--"
Horrified at the idea of him seeing marks; the literal reminder of how fat she is caused her to blurt, "No!" She pushed Bucky away, eyes widen in horrid.
"No?" Bucky frowned quizzically at her intense reaction.
Realizing what she just had just done,  she composed herself, and spoke, "It's... it's not a pretty sight. And I don't want to show it to you. Plus, if my thighs are a little thinner than they are now. Then, this wouldn't happen. If only these thighs are not like... fucking fat as they are we wouldn't have to go through this. And you wouldn't need to hear all this. You wouldn't---"
Bucky knew that once she was in the state of insecurity, she self-deprecate herself like she was less worthy than the goddesss that she is. So, instead of arguing with her, he simply intercepted her rambling, "Show me."
She stopped the seemingly endless word-vomit, and titled her head to the side, "Huh? No. Bucky I just said--"
Bucky grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her off his lap and onto the bed, caging her  below him, "And I said... Show. Me." His tone was more like an order rather than a request.
She didn't dare to defy him, when his gaze was as rigid as they were now, so pulled her pants off; slowly, reluctantly. When the pants was at the last inches before it's completely off, Bucky took control and quite literally ripped it off from her.
The sudden action resulted to her body needing to hide itself from his darken eyes. Her thighs clammed together as a whine slipped from her lips. The friction of her wounds brushing against each other was burning her delicate skin.
Bucky quickly softens when he heard her pained voice,  he pushed himself off from her and kneeled on the bed before her. "Doll, please..." His hands gently squeezes the side of her thighs as he pleads, "...Let me see."
Slowly spreading her thighs apart, Bucky's eyes are now focusing on the red marks on her skin. His thumbs absentmindedly traces the area around the broken skin. He was so concentrated that he didn't say a word. And that only triggered her insecurity that she started to rambled something about how she will start going in a diet and she'll add more intense leg workout in her routine.
But her voice was only a muffled strings of incoherent sounds in Bucky's ears when he finally processed everything that happened from 2 weeks ago until now.
The realization hit him like a high speed train with a broken break system. Did she really turned him down because of this? Did she really starve him out because of this? Bucky let out a growl of disapproval when he abruptly pulled her by her calves, forcing her hips to lift from the bed. She yelped in surprised but she saw the look on his face,  "You..." he rasped.
Bucky placed her legs on his shoulders, letting it daggle on his back as he palmed sides of her thighs. He then, proceed to leave trails of kiss on her inner thigh, avoiding the irritating wounds on her skin, "You deprived me of my sweet little pussy because you think this..." he flattened his tongue and nibble on her softness of her inner thighs, "...would turn me off? That these thick, soft thighs that I love so much would bother me?"
He planted a delicate kiss on the marks before, "Well, guess what bunny?. You're absolute wrong. In fact, it's quite the opposite." His lips travelled upwards until it found her core. Bucky's nose flared at the scent of her arousal, "And oh my sweet babydoll, I'm going to eat your pussy until understand that. Then, I'm gonna do it some more because I am fucking starving." He pressed a firm kiss on her clothed pussy, causing the cotton to soak the juices that leaks from her hole.
"Look at that. Does your needy pussy wants some pampering too, hmm?" She could see the lust dripping down his ocean blues; the same ones that were usually bright but now were now noticeably darker.
Bucky's finger traces the slit of her pussy, rubbing her over the fabric of her panties, making patch of wetness spread even more. "Yeah? Does she want me to kiss it better? Make her feel good?"
She moaned softly to his touch, "Please."
That was all it took for Bucky to rip her panties apart as if it was made out of paper.  "Fuck, there she is. My sweet pussy." He brought his fingers over, widened the folds of her pussy. Even with minimal lighting, it was enough to show him the glistening pink flesh of leaking cunt, twitching and needing his tongue to explore her insides.
He was hungry of course, just simply looking at her pussy had made his mouth water and impossible for him to resist the urge of putting his mouth on the pretty little thing. "Hmm,," a sharp cry escaped from her lips as he blew on her little twitching nub. There was this glint in his eyes as he watched her try to buck up, cunt helplessly clenching around nothing.
Before she could beg for him, Bucky's tongue dipped in between folds. Pointed at first, from the entrance of her pussy up to her clit. The tip of his tongue swirl around the aching nub. A breath caught in her throat when Bucky repeat the same move but this time he flattened his tongue.
And then he does it again and again.
Bucky, is generally the larger man compared to anyone. He is tall and beefy. But he is especially big when he's in between her legs, gently devouring her wet pussy. Slow and long licks were his favorite, it allowed him to savor the taste of her. Always so sweet and he couldn't get enough of it.
With every flick Bucky's tongue assulting to her swollen bud, she couldn’t help but pull on sheets behind her, needy moans leaves her lips every time he explored her, teases her. Her body cannot stay still when the pleasure was taking her higher. But it was not a problem for Bucky to control. Whenever she tries to close her thighs together, he stopped her. He didn't want to irritate her wounds or cause any pain, so he kept pushing her thigh open as he nuzzle his face into her pussy.
"Ahhh fuck ,, that feels so good, Bucky!" She moaned his name as the overwhelming feeling of his wet and soft tongue gliding and rubbing on her core, guiding her to heaven.
And the salacious squelching noises to fill the room as Bucky laps and sucks on her clit. She was so wet that he could just shove his fingers up in her hole but he didn't. He won't. After so many days not tasting her, he want to only use his mouth.
Though the man barely spoke during these times, he’d much rather keep his mouth occupied with drinking up her juices or suckling on her cute little clit. But when he does. Fuck. Does he spill the most unholy things.
Bucky momentarily detached himself from her and rasped, "Gonna cum, babydoll? Come on, give it to me. Let me drink and lick your cum after." His metal fingers quickly finds her clit, swiftly started to deliciously rub it; just the way he knew she liked it. It felt so good that her tongued lolled out her mouth out of pure pleasure.
"Yeah, bunny. You're gonna let me clean you up with tongue so nice, so that you can make the same mess again and again. Cum in mouth, babydoll. Cum for me"
He delved right back where is mouth belongs, licking her clit into his mouth just to wrap his lips around the pretty pink bundle of nerves sucking it harshly.  She whined needily her hips started to move on its own accord, searching for more friction of his tongue, “ahh ahh! hmmmm,, s-so fucking good! ahhh,, So close!” she was seeing stars in her hazy vision from how good and dirty she felt.
Bucky's eyes almost rolled back when let out a groan of satisaction against her spread out cunt; he can feel that she was going to cum and want her to do it with his mouth latched on her.
And cum she did, moments after she couldn’t help but squeal as her back arched from the bed, grinding herself on his tongue. Bucky growled at the streams of cream squirting out of her throbbing cunt right into his mouth, down to his throat.
So sweet and warm and addictive.
While her whole body was still shaking from the aftermath of the mindblowing orgasm, Bucky continued to lick and lap on her leaking pussy, slurping and suckling every bit of cream she had blessed him with.
Yet he was still hungry.
She mewled when Bucky started to suck on her clit again and when she looked over at him, he momentarily pulled away, "oh doll, did you forget? I'm not going to stop any time soon. So just lay there, look pretty for me and let me enjoy this sweet little pussy."
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: Have you ever gotten your inner thighs chafed? Anyway, thanks for spending your time to reading my work! Leave your thoughts behind, I'd love to read them ♡
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buckymorelikefuckme · 11 months
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cry baby
bucky barnes x fem reader
words: 7.3k
warnings: **18+ ONLY** smüt, ed*ging, overstimulation, crying during s*ex, mentions of flushed cheeks, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, lapslock.
a/n: this is arguably one of my absolute fave fics i've ever written. she is near and dear to my heart :') i've provided the link for ao3 if you prefer to read it there! it's originally posted in two parts but i've combined them here. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡
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“the boys are running late,” natasha informs you when you make your way to the table she’s conquered in the busy cafe. “sam texted a couple minutes ago and said he and bucky got stuck in traffic.”
it’s the second tuesday of the month, which means it’s brunch day. it’s a running tradition that’s stood for the four of you since your college days. the time and place has changed over the years, but everyone does their absolute best to attend every time. these tuesdays are your favorite, naturally.
you plop into an empty chair across from her with a heavy sigh. “good, that means i have time to bitch about how fucking horny i am before they get here.”
she snorts, taking a delicate sip of her latte. “what’s new?” she wonders sarcastically.
“you don’t understand,” you begin, leaning into the table, gripping the edge tightly. “it’s been months, and not like, a few, i mean it’s coming up on a year.”
natasha’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “a year? what about that guy you went on a few dates with a while back? didn’t anything happen with him?”
“no,” you grumble, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. you huff. “and even if something had happened, i doubt it would have been satisfying. i can probably count on one hand the amount of times sex has been even kinda pleasurable for me.”
“sounds like you’re picking shitty partners.”
you scowl. “i know that, but it’s not my fault. all these stupid men keep promising they’re gonna fuck me ten ways to sunday and not a single one of them can even get me to wednesday.”
natasha laughs. “you poor thing.”
“you’re really not helping me here,” you whine with a pitiful pout on your lips. “you are getting routine dickings, you have sam! i am not so lucky here.” you notice her attention flicks to somewhere behind you, but you’re not finished with your rant. “nat, i’m serious. all of my sex encounters are the equivalent of asking someone to scratch my back and then they scratch literally anywhere but the spot that itches. i want to be fucked so good that i cry, just—completely reduced to tears. is that too much to ask?”
nat is hiding her smile behind her hand, amusement painted across her sharp features. someone clears their throat behind you and you pinch the bridge of your nose. sam and bucky occupy the empty seats, sam next to natasha and bucky next to you. they’re both sporting wide grins, looking far too pleased about stumbling into this conversation.
sam opens his mouth, no doubt to make a smartass comment, but you cut him off before he can get a good inhale in.
“not a fucking word,” you grouse with a finger pointed in his direction.
he presses a hand to his chest, expression offended. “i would never make a joke about your truly tragic excuse of a sex life.”
bucky snickers quietly, but turns into a cough at your glare.
“i’ll murder you,” you promise.
“leave her alone, boys,” natasha says, rolling her eyes, though she’s visibly biting back her own laughter.
you huff, digging your wallet out of your purse. “i hate all of you,” you announce before getting up and going to stand in line to order.
bucky follows a moment later, coming to stand at your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“that bad, huh?” he asks.
you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s probably smirking right now.
“fuck off,” you retort, not bothering to push his arm away since you know he’d only put it right back.
“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he jests, “you know we just like to poke a little fun.”
you roll your eyes, throwing him an exasperated look. “yeah, but that was something only nat was supposed to hear. i hate talking about sex with you and sam because you two wouldn’t understand.”
“that’s not true,” bucky insists, which makes you roll your eyes again. “it’s not!”
“first of all, sam’s got natasha, so we both know they’re more than satisfied.” bucky tilts his head in acquiescence. “and you don’t have to worry about if you’re gonna have an orgasm when you hook up with somebody. men have it so easy.”
it’s probably not the best thing to talk about in line of a busy cafe (especially since you haven’t decided between a blueberry muffin or the ham and cheese croissant, and there’s only one person ahead of you now and you’d really rather not be discussing your lack of sex in front of an innocent barista) but it sort of feels good to get this off your chest, even if it’s to bucky.
“okay, definitely not true,” he replies with a frown. “i’m not always guaranteed an orgasm.”
you give him a skeptical glance. “i find that hard to believe.”
this time, it’s bucky who rolls his eyes. “whatever, whether or not i come when i have sex with someone isn’t what i was gonna talk about when i came over here.”
the person in front of you finishes their order and then you’re stepping up for your turn.
“hi, what can i get you today?” the young barista asks with a smile.
“a large mocha iced coffee with sweet cream and a blueberry muffin, please.” you pause, contemplating, then add, “and a ham and cheese croissant.”
if you can’t get fucked within an inch of your life then food will become your lover, you reason.
“just a black coffee for me, please,” bucky tells the girl, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and handing over his card to pay before you can stop him.
“i could’ve paid for mine,” you mumble.
“you also could just say thank you,” he replies with a short laugh as he ushers you to the side to wait for your order.
you pinch his hip, pouting. “thank you.”
“why does your gratitude come with violence?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.
“you know how i am when people do nice things for me.”
“you should be used to it by now,” he points out.
“well, i’m not,” you huff. “anyway, what did you come over here to talk about then?”
bucky reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden. “uh, well. i dunno, i just thought… you know, since you’re not—i mean, not that you couldn’t be, just—you haven’t been, so maybe… fuck.”
“spit it out,” you say with a giggle, wondering what in the world’s got him so tongue-tied.
“why don’t you let me?” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately after.
you tilt your head in confusion. “let you what?”
he sighs heavily, working his jaw in frustration. “you know…” he begins, digging his thumbnail into a knick on the countertop in front of you. “let me fuck you until you cry.”
“what?”
just then, your order is called. bucky quickly grabs it and turns to make his way back to the table, but you grab his arm to stop him.
“i don’t think so, you come back here right now and explain yourself,” you demand.
his eyes lift heavenward. “it’s just an idea, okay?”
“bucky, you’re talking about crossing a huge line. you can’t just throw that out all willy nilly!”
“i know,” he replies earnestly. “and it’s not—“ he grimaces at the phrasing, “willy nilly. you’re one of my best friends. i wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything, and i wouldn’t offer this if i thought that it could. this is something that’s obviously affecting you negatively in your life and i’m willing to help. i trust you, and i’m pretty sure you trust me, yeah?”
“of course i trust you,” you say, frowning.
he shrugs. “so, then it’s just… a friend helping another friend.”
“you make it sound so simple,” you muse in wonder.
“think about it?” he implores.
you swallow roughly, biting the inside of your cheek. “fine. i’ll think about it.”
he nods and walks back over to the table where sam and natasha are waiting. you hesitate for only a split second before following.
needless to say, you’re distracted for the rest of brunch.
***
you: what even makes you think you could fuck me until i cry anyway?
it’s been nearly a week, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re actually considering taking bucky’s offer. it’s all you can think about since he brought it up. you can’t lie, you’ve always thought bucky was attractive, but ever since you were gently but firmly placed in the friend category back in university, you never allowed yourself to think of there ever being more between the two of you. he’s a wonderful friend to have and you’d have been an idiot to pass it up. bucky is kind and generous and just enough of an asshole to keep things interesting without it being a problem.
but this… this has left you reeling. why would he make such an offer after only ever keeping things strictly friendly and platonic in your relationship? and more importantly, where does he get the confidence to think he could follow through?
bucky: experience?
you make a face at your phone, furiously typing your reply.
you: ew. do you realize how douchey that sounds?
bucky: well, it’s not douchey if it’s true.
you: says you
bucky: and a few other people :)
bucky: you’d know it too if you’d let me fuck you
you exhale harshly through your nose, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, carefully thinking of what you should say next.
you: it’s apparently a tall request, and thus far, nobody’s been able to deliver. you can understand my skepticism…
bucky: if i don’t leave you shivering and twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, in a mess of sweat and come, and tears stained on your cheeks, then i will have failed you.
your thighs squeeze together at the mental image that brings you. jesus christ, if he’s half as good at fucking as he is dirty talking then he just might do as he’s promising.
bucky: so? what do you say? wanna give it a try?
biting your lip, you give yourself a moment to weigh the pros and cons in your mind one last time.
it doesn’t take you very long to make your decision.
you: okay. we’ll try.
***
it’s a slightly overcast sunday when bucky comes over with the direct intention to fuck you. it should be weird, but strangely, all you feel is anticipation. maybe it’s because you know him so well and know that, no matter what, he’d take care of you.
(or, maybe it’s because those repressed college-aged feelings are doing their best to resurface, even though you steadfastly continue to ignore them.)
you’d taken a thorough shower earlier to ease the little bit of nerves you had when you’d woken up. cleaning up the small mess your apartment gathered over the last couple weeks helped, as well, and soon you found yourself standing in front of your lingerie drawer with your lips pursed.
you weren’t sure if you should even bother with it, but it felt you wouldn’t be putting in any effort into this encounter if you didn’t at least pick out nice underwear. so, with a pleased nod, you settle on some simple black lace panties and a matching bralette. not too much, but enough to satisfy yourself, and hopefully bucky. you pick out a simple sundress to put on over it, since you won’t be wearing much of anything once bucky gets here. that thought has you flushing, but you ignore it to put on some makeup, just to freshen up your face.
by the time he knocks on your door, you’ve already finished a glass of wine and are pouring yourself a second.
he smiles when open the door, a bit boyishly, greeting you with a quiet, “hi.”
“hi,” you return, just as soft. you open the door wider. “come in.”
he walks passed you, stopping to toe his shoes off and hang his jacket on one of the hooks.
“do you want a glass of wine?” you ask as you head to the kitchen to retrieve your own from the counter.
bucky follows, stopping in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “no, thank you.”
you nod, taking a sip from your glass, trying to figure out what to say. the air feels a little awkward and you’re not sure how to fix it.
“nervous?” he wonders curiously.
you shake your head. “not really.”
he quirks a brow. “then what’s wrong?”
“i don’t know,” you murmur. “i guess i’m just worried we’re making a mistake.”
he hums. you take a larger sip of your wine.
with cautious steps, he comes closer to you. “what if i promise that things won’t be weird after?”
“you can’t really promise that, though.”
“sure i can,” he says, smiling. “it’s me and you. we’ve been friends for so long. plenty of people have sex and stay friends after.”
you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you think.
you sigh, frustrated with yourself. you can’t deny how badly you want this. it’s all you’ve been able to think about since that day in the cafe. but the thought of losing bucky is heartbreaking, and you don’t want your stupid horniness to be the reason that you ruin a friendship, even if he was the one to offer sex.
“why don’t we go make out on the couch for a little while first?” he suggests after a moment’s pause.
you snort, in spite of your thoughts. “like a couple of teenagers?”
his eyes crinkle on the sides when he grins. “yeah. we’ll just see how we feel about that, and if it leads to more, then…” he trails off, shrugging.
“that’s not a bad idea,” you concede.
“great! finish your wine.”
you laugh and do as you’re told, downing the little remaining wine in one go, sitting the glass down on the counter resolutely as you swallow.
“let’s do this,” you say, determined.
bucky huffs a laugh, grabbing your wrist and tugging you behind him as he makes his way to the couch. he settles slightly facing you as you tuck your legs under you beside him.
“do you wanna talk, or do you want to jump straight into it?”
“if we talk anymore i’m gonna change my mind. just kiss me already, bucky.”
“yes ma’am,” he sasses before doing exactly that.
he cups your cheek with one hand as the other is placed on your knee. he guides your face to his and kisses you chastely. you’re not sure where to put your hands at first, but you tell yourself to quit being a goober about it and place them on either side of his neck, your thumbs brushing under his jaw.
it’s an okay kiss, you have to admit, but it’s not really doing anything for you yet. he has soft lips, softer than you thought they’d be. you’re beginning to wonder if maybe this confirms you shouldn’t go any further when he tilts his head, and… hm.
he parts his lips, taking your bottom one between his, kissing it, then nipping it. you wouldn’t say the sound you make is a gasp, necessarily, but it’s close. his tongue lightly caresses the seam of your mouth and you don’t even think before you open up for him, letting his tongue sweep in, flicking against yours. you hum, scooting a tiny bit closer to him, chasing the feeling. his kisses turn insistent then, teeth biting at your bottom lip and tugging, soothing the ache with his tongue. he kisses you like a man quenching his thirst, like you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted, and it’s leaving you dizzy. you sway more into his space and he pulls away from your mouth.
“c’mere,” he whispers, gripping behind one of your knees to drag it over his hips so you’re straddling him. “much better.”
you don’t have a chance to process anything about the moment, his mouth back on yours in a blink. your fingers wind themselves into his hair, getting a good grip on it as you lick into his mouth. he lets out a soft noise at that and you try your damnedest to pry it out of him again, pressing your chest to his so there’s not even a sliver of space left between you.
his hands travel, down the sides of your torso to your thighs, back up to your hips where he holds on tight. it doesn’t take long after that before you find yourself grinding into him. you both moan at the same time, breaking the kiss to pant for breath.
you swallow roughly. “okay,” you murmur, “i think it’s safe to say this could work.”
bucky laughs quietly. “yeah? wanna move to your bed then?”
your squeeze your thighs around him, shifting minutely on his lap and feeling the beginnings of his erection beneath you. “yes,” you breathe.
quickly, you rise from your position and step back, allowing bucky to stand, then grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom. once you’re standing beside your bed, you turn to face him. he meets your halfway, pulling you into another, filthier kiss. you reach for his belt buckle, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops, tossing it to your floor. next are the button and zip of his jeans, shoved down his legs until he steps out of them and kicks them and his socks aside. he obediently lifts his arms when you slide your hands under his shirt and begin pushing it up, breaking the kiss to nearly yank it off, making bucky huff in amusement. once it’s tossed with the rest of his clothes, bucky grabs fistfuls of your dress and pulls you into him.
“my turn,” he says against your lips.
carefully, bucky helps you out of your dress, eyes raking over every bit of new skin shown to him. he bites his lip when he sees your lacy underthings.
“you got all dolled up for me?” he asks.
shifting under his stare, you nod. “wanted to look nice,” you admit.
he hums. “beautiful.”
he kisses you again, a little softer than before, but no less passionate. the urgency returns as he backs you up until your thighs hit the mattress. gently, he guides you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he follows you down and settles over you.
you soon find yourself in need of air and pull away with a gasp. bucky is undeterred and instead presses his kisses down your jaw, to your neck where he decides to bite and suck until he’s left a mark you’ll have to reprimand him for later. he licks his way up to your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, drawing a whine out of you.
“bucky,” you whisper, hands gripping his sides as you squirm below him.
“hm?”
you close your eyes tightly when he makes his way back down to your collarbones.
“please,” you whimper.
“please what, sweetheart?” he asks, pushing himself up to look you in the eye.
“t-touch me,” you beg, cheeks flushing.
his lips quirk into a smile. “i am touching you.”
“bucky,” you whine.
“where do you want me to touch you, hm?” he wonders. one of his hands trails across your shoulder and down the center of your chest. “here? or… here?”
when his fingers glide, barely there, over your pebbled nipples, you push into the touch eagerly.
“or…” he continues, his feather light touch making a path down your stomach. your breath quickens in anticipation. “here?” he murmurs as his fingertips stop on your pantyline.
“yes, there, anywhere,” you agree hastily, “just —please. please, bucky, don’t tease me.”
he kisses you again, deep, full of promise. “you beg so prettily for me.”
he rearranges your positions until he’s between your spread thighs, sweeping his hands across the inside of them. he nods to your panties.
“may i?”
“yes, please,” you reply, lifting your hips to help him take them off.
he doesn’t give you a chance to close your legs in shyness, firmly grasping your knees in each of his hands and spreading them once again. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel unbelievably desirable, has excitement crawling up your spine.
“don’t forget,” you remind him, making his eyes flick up to yours in question, “you better make me cry.”
a slow, dangerous smile graces his lips. your stomach swoops eagerly.
~
a whine, high pitched and drawn out, escapes your lips. after you unwittingly challenged him, bucky took it upon himself to torture you—with sex. so far, he’s only used his fingers on you, in you, thrusting them steadily but never enough to bring you to climax. he’s taking his time and being a smug prick about it. you go to complain, again, hoping if you beg enough he’ll let you come, but before you can do more than open your mouth he’s quickening his pace.
“oh!” you gasp, clutching the sheets in your hands.
bucky slides his hand down your thigh, bringing his thumb inward to swipe around where his other fingers are buried inside you to gather your wetness and using it to rub circles on your clit. your back arches, head thrown back against your pillows as you feel your orgasm build. it’s not tears, but damn, it feels good enough.
just as you start to clench around his fingers, legs spasming, he stops.
your eyes open in a hurry, brows furrowing in confusion. “no, please, don’t stop,” you plead.
bucky smiles. “i gotta get the right build up.”
you groan in frustration. he laughs quietly and lets the inferno burning within you simmer down to embers, then starts inching his way down until he’s lying on his stomach, mouth poised above your pussy. the feel of his warm breath makes you shiver, and with no warning whatsoever, he leans in and sucks your clit into his mouth.
“fuckin’—oh my— bucky!”
you’re pretty sure you black out for the next several minutes, the only thing you’re aware of is the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears and the feel of bucky’s mouth on you. you’re lost in a mindless haze of pleasure, unable to think or feel anything else. you feel your orgasm cresting for the second time, and just as before, bucky pulls away before you can succumb to it.
“why,” you hiccup on a moan, wanting nothing more than to just come already, but he’s not letting you.
he shushes you, softly kisses your knee. sitting up to take his underwear off, bucky keeps his eyes on you, expression hungry.
“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he promises. “just a bit more. you’re being so good for me, yeah?”
“please,” you whimper, feeling completely pathetic.
he makes quick work of putting a condom on and then settles between your thighs. you sigh in relief when he wastes no time and pushes in, being careful not to go too fast. once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, wanting to give you time to adjust, but you’re back to whining.
“bucky, please, please just—fuck me,” you beg, squirming beneath him.
he takes mercy on you, finally, and sets a hard pace. your hands fly up to push against the headboard, moaning and gasping from his harsh thrusts, loving the stretch of him inside you. his thumb is back on your clit and you cry out, clenching hard around him, but his thrusts don’t falter. all too soon, you can feel yourself getting close. you hear your own voice chanting please, please, please, mixed in with bucky’s grunts and the sound of him fucking you.
you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as your climax hits the point of no return, crashing over you in waves. you think you might scream, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. part of you thinks this’ll be it, bucky will come now and then you’ll have had one of the best orgasms of your life and he’ll be on his merry way home. but no, that’s not what happens.
instead, bucky keeps thrusting relentlessly into you, dragging out your pleasure to the point of oversensitivity.
“s’too much,” you breathe, gasping for air.
bucky shakes his head, face contorted in concentration. “one more,” he tells you, voice gruff and deep.
unbelievably, you feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes. bucky’s still rubbing your clit, still keeping a steady rhythm of his hips, and fuck, he’s so beautiful. you watch him fucking you, wondering how the fuck you got to this moment, how you got lucky enough to bear witness to the sight of bucky fucking, let alone be the one he fucks. his body is ridiculous, looking like it’s carved from marble. you know how much strength it holds, as well, know that if he really wanted to, he could probably fuck you against a wall.
it’s with that thought, with the added bonus of the way bucky touches you, looks at you, like you’re something treasured and gorgeous, giving you such intense pleasure, that the tears threatening to spill over finally fall from your lashes.
bucky notices, because of course he does, and he thrusts into you just a little faster, a little harder, and your body seizes up and then you’re falling into another orgasm. it spreads through your veins, slow like honey, making sure this one settles deep into your bones. bucky groans as he, too, reaches climax, hips twitching into you in aftershocks until he stops moving altogether.
you both pant for breath, sweat gathered in every crevice on your bodies. you think you won’t be able to move for the rest of the weekend.
“need to pull out,” bucky says softly, breaking the moment.
you nod and he carefully pulls his hips back, grunting. you poorly suppress a whimper and close your legs, already hating the empty feeling.
“well,” he starts, plopping himself on his back next to you, “i think i deserve some kind of reward.”
when you turn to face him with an exasperated look, he’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a smug smile across his lips.
“how about i don’t kick you in the balls? how’s that for a reward?”
“i literally just did the impossible.”
“what, made me come twice? i can do that all on my own. you’re not special,” you retort with a huff.
he scoffs. “i fucked you so good you cried.”
“you can’t prove it,” you say to the ceiling.
“keep up this attitude and i won’t do it again,” he threatens, poking you in your side.
you wiggle away from the ticklish touch while trying to tamp down on the hope bubbling in your chest.
“oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” you say as casually as possible.
he rolls his eyes. “of course we are. now,” he sits up in your bed, stretching his arms as he stands and picks up his underwear, “i’m starving. wanna order takeout?”
well, you guess if you’d been worried about any kind of awkwardness before, you shouldn’t have. this is bucky, your best friend. he’d never let things change between you.
***
except, things kinda change between the two of you.
it’s not very noticeable at first, changes so subtle you miss them, until one day he showed up at your apartment and greeted you with a kiss. you stood frozen in your doorway as he rambled about how stressful his day had been as he kicked his shoes off. it was only when you heard him calling out from the kitchen that he was gonna eat your leftovers that you snapped out of it, yelling back that you’d kick his ass if he even touched your dumplings.
another day, he facetimes you and asks if you want to go to see that new movie you’ve been talking about.
“oh,” you’d said. “are nat and sam coming, too?”
he’d given you a funny look, replied, “no, i thought it would just be us two.”
“oh,” you said again. “okay.”
so you’d gone to the movies, let him buy you buttery popcorn and peanut m&m’s and a soda bigger than your head. he shared with you, despite your protests, and halfway through the film you felt his hand settle on your thigh. you blinked and stared at it for a beat, turning to him in question. he only smiled at you briefly before focusing back on the movie.
in between all of this, you continued calling him over for sex. honestly, how could you not? as much as you didn’t want to admit it to him, he was the best you’ve ever had. and if he’s so willing, why shouldn’t you take advantage while you can?
a week ago, though, you’d texted him and asked him to come over, replying to his question of what time and then started getting ready. you’d purchased a new piece of lingerie, a periwinkle babydoll nightie, that left very little to the imagination. it had a matching pair of panties and felt soft and luxurious on your skin. you’d taken extra time to do your hair and makeup, wanting to look like sex on legs, and you’re pretty sure you succeeded.
but when he got there and you answered the door in your sexy outfit, he didn’t see it right away. in one hand he held his phone, typing something on it, and in the other hand he held a grocery bag that you eyed curiously.
“i brought stuff to make spaghetti—“
when he did finally look up, his eyes widened and traveled the length of your body several times. you bit your lip, trying and failing to hold back your smile.
“how about we skip dinner?” you’d said, fisting his nice button-up shirt and dragging him inside your apartment. you grabbed the grocery bag from his hand and sat it on the floor, absently noting he was wearing his date jeans.
whoops, you’d thought, hope i didn’t pull him away from someone important.
you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he’d returned the kiss, licking into your mouth, drawing your tongue out so he could suck on it and made you moan embarrassingly loud.
“wait,” he’d murmured, “we should eat first.”
“or, you could eat me,” you’d retorted with a giggle.
he groaned like it pained him to say no, gripped your hips hard and put a tiny bit of distance between you. the look in his eyes had made you want to find the nearest flat surface and bend over.
“why don’t you be a good girl for me, hm? let me cook dinner for us and after we eat i’ll fuck you however you want me to. okay, sweetheart?”
you whined, but ultimately agreed, knowing he’d make it worth it.
and then there’s tonight, where he came over unannounced, armed with groceries again and promising to cook you the best meal you’ve ever had. to say you were confused would be an understatement, but you also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.
it’s just… well, bucky’s not really acting like a friend with benefits. sure, you hung out alone with him all the time before, but he never once cooked you dinner, and he certainly never helped wash dishes after. you guess the hello kisses could be explained away as part of the new aspect of your relationship, but something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.
after a truly delicious dinner, you find yourself on the couch with bucky as he scrolls through netflix to find a movie to put on.
“what do you want to watch?” he asks.
“mm,” you mumble, shifting closer to start kissing his neck, “don’t care.”
as he narrows down his decision and finally picks one, you make your way up to his jaw, sucking a small mark into the skin there.
“baby,” he protests softly, “let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”
you pull back, confused. first at the pet name, then at his words. he’s never denied you before, which isn’t to say that he can’t, it’s just that he’s always seemed on board. and, you know, you thought that was kind of the whole point of this thing.
“okay,” you reply after a moment.
he gives you a smile and a sweet kiss, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side to cuddle. you can’t help but frown, feeling like you’re missing something, but not knowing what it could be.
it doesn’t take long for drowsiness to creep up on you. before he showed up, you had planned on probably ordering out for dinner and going to bed early since you’d had a pretty rough day. in fact, you remember texting bucky about it just that afternoon. your eyelids get heavier and heavier, finding it harder to keep them open as the seconds pass. your head droops and in the next blink, you’ve fallen asleep.
you’re not sure how much time has passed when bucky wakes you, but you groan, pouting and burrowing into his shoulder more.
he huffs a laugh. “c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”
“don’ wanna move,” you mumble tiredly.
“i’ll carry you,” he offers. “up you go, baby.”
you half heartedly argue about being jostled, but let him carry you to your bed where he carefully places you, helping you out of your sweatpants and pulling your blankets up around you. you sigh in content, feeling yourself already drifting back into sleep. you hear bucky shuffling, but think nothing of it until the bed dips beside you, then feel his warm body slide in underneath the covers and press in close.
“goodnight, darlin’,” he murmurs.
you’d ask him what in the word he’s doing, but sleep is just far too enticing to ignore. you fall into slumber with bucky’s warmth along your back, his arm draped over you.
the next morning, you wake to the feeling of his fingers playing with the tiny bow on the front of your panties and his lips placing gentle kisses on your shoulder. you hum, eyes still closed, in the back of your mind thinking this is a nice way to wake up. at the sound of you, his touches get firmer, more insistent.
“good morning,” he rasps, breath tickling your ear.
you don’t really get a chance to reply. he dips his fingers into your panties, making you inhale sharply, moaning as you buck into his hand. he fingers you for a while, kissing along the column of your throat, biting and sucking marks into the skin there. when you’re begging him for more, he relents, eases your panties off and lifts your leg to slide in from behind. the angle is so nice it has you gasping.
you clutch the sheets weakly, burying your face in your pillow and muffle your whines and moans. bucky keeps a slow, lazy rhythm, acting as if he’s got all the time in the world to draw this out. it’s good, so good, and you can’t hold back your whimper when he kicks up the pace a little, tells you to touch yourself. you come seconds before he does, shuddering through it and humming happily.
as you both lie there and catch your breath, awareness trickles into your mind. you swallow roughly, staring blankly at the wall as you realize your feelings have grown far too much for this to be only casual anymore.
bucky kisses your shoulder again. “i’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? i’ll call you when it’s ready.”
“okay,” you whisper, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming.
hearing bucky bustle around your kitchen makes your heart clench with want; want for something you can’t have.
***
bucky: dinner tonight?
you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the text. you know you need to cut things off with him before you get anymore hurt than you already are. it’s not fair to either of you if you continue with this arrangement when you’ve caught real feelings for him. you have to tell him, and soon. with that thought in mind, you type out a reply.
you: sure. what time?
bucky: reservations are at 8pm, i’ll pick you up by 7:45.
reservations? where was he taking you? you get another text before you can ask.
bucky: dress nice ;)
with a sigh, you text back an affirmative and try to start mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you dreaded having. you could only hope and pray that he agrees to still be your friend after.
by the time there’s a knock on your door that night, you’ve worked yourself up into an anxious mess. you open the door to see bucky standing there with a single peach colored rose and a bashful grin.
“hi,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you on your cheek. “this is for you.”
he hands you the rose and you feel your heart crack in your chest. you muster a small smile.
“thank you. let me go put this in a vase and we can head out.”
he nods and waits patiently at the door. as you fill a vase with a little water, you take a deep breath, giving yourself a mental pep talk.
this was going to suck.
the drive to the restaurant doesn’t take too long, and when you see where he’s taken you, your eyebrows shoot up. this is one of the nicer places in the city, definitely not on the affordable side. he helps you out of the car, leading you inside with his hand on the small of your back. you’re led to a small booth in a far corner with overhead lighting that feels too intimate. maybe you’d have to wait until you left to tell him…
conversation is light, a bit surface level, and you get the feeling that bucky is a little nervous. you wonder if maybe he’s gonna let you down gently first, hoping that he doesn’t, because you’d rather not cry in such a fancy restaurant.
after the waiter takes your drink orders, bucky sighs.
“okay, let me just… get this off my chest.”
oh fuck, here it goes.
“i know i’ve never really come across at the most romantic guy, especially since i’ve never felt the need to be.” he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “you’ve always been so important to me, and this last month has been so, so wonderful.”
“bucky…” you trail off, attempting to somehow stop him, but he powers through.
“i just—i never thought i’d find somebody, you know?” he says, earnest, gaze locked on yours. another crack in your heart. “especially not somebody who was my friend first, that i already had a solid foundation with. the attraction had always been there, but the friendship meant more to me, and finally allowing that to blossom into this amazing, new, fun relationship has got to be the best decision i’ve ever made.”
did he start dating someone and not tell you? oh god, has he been sleeping with someone else? at the same time? your stomach turns, eyes burning, hating yourself more and more as he speaks.
“so, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling, “happy one month anniversary, sweetheart.”
you blink, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “what?” you croak, beyond confused.
bucky, however, looks concerned. “baby, why are you crying?”
“i…” you blink some more, eyes flitting around the room as if you’ll get some kind of clarity that way to the situation currently happening. “what?” you repeat.
“did i come on too strong?” he asks, looking embarrassed now. “i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to celebrate, but i’ve just been so happy with you—i’m sorry, baby, i should’ve asked.”
“bucky, what are you talking about?” you finally manage, unable to keep the bewilderment out of your tone. “anniversary?”
bucky frowns. “i didn’t get the date wrong, did i?”
“no, i—this isn’t—i’m not talking about—ugh, i mean, when did we even start having an anniversary to celebrate?”
bucky’s face goes blank, sitting back in his chair. your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, so fucking confused, so fucking hopeful.
“we… we’re dating,” he says, slow, unsure. “aren’t we?”
“since when?” you ask probably too loudly, cheeks flushing.
he opens and closes his mouth a couple times. “when i asked you out?”
“bucky, oh my god, you’re gonna have to be more specific before i lose my goddamn mind. when did you ask me out?”
he huffs, his own cheeks flushing. “at the cafe! a month ago, at brunch with natasha and sam.”
your eyes widen in disbelief. “when you asked if you could fuck me until i cried?” you hiss, ignoring the scandalized look on the waiter’s face as he brings your drinks over.
smiling apologetically, you thank him and wait until he’s gone before sending a glare bucky’s way.
“that’s not how you ask a person out,” you seethe.
“i asked if you wanted to give this a try and you said yes!” he replies desperately. “i’ve taken you on dates!”
you pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking of all the times you thought he was being too romantic, more-than-friends type of behavior. you’re a fucking idiot, but god, so was he.
“at no point did you say anything even remotely close about us starting a relationship. i thought we were just fucking, bucky, i didn’t realize it was more than that!”
“you don’t—“ he starts, then stops, looking down at the plate in front of him. “you don’t want to be with me?”
“i didn’t know it was an option,” you say carefully.
“well, it is.” he meets your gaze, cautious. “i just spilled my guts to you. you know how i feel now. how do you feel? about me?”
you lick your lips. “bucky, i… i was planning to end things with you tonight.” his expression drops, even though he tries to mask it, so you’re quick to explain. “not because i don’t like you, but because i do like you and i thought you wouldn’t want anything more than just sex with me.”
“it’s never been and never could have been just sex with you,” he replies, quiet and relieved. he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “i meant it when i said you’re the best decision i’ve ever made. i want this—the sex, the dinners, dates, all the gross and sappy shit i never wanted before… i want it all with you, if you’ll have me.”
you can’t fight the smile spreading across your lips. “of course i’ll have you, bucky.”
he smiles in return, a laugh bubbling out of him, which makes you giggle, until you’re both laughing so hard and loud that patrons from other tables are sending dirty looks your way, which only makes you laugh more.
“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, laughter dying down. “there’s pizza and sex calling our names, i think.”
bucky moans dramatically. “i knew i liked you for a reason.”
he leaves money on the table and then the two of you quickly make your way through the restaurant, giggling and holding hands the whole way, even in the car.
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mochie85 · 3 months
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Blue Christmas
One-Shots Masterlist | Complete Masterlist | Secret Santa Masterlist
Summary: You ask Loki to give you something special for Christmas. A/N: This is a Secret Santa gift for @divine-knight-hand. I wanted to give you everything you requested, my love, but I already wrote something similar a while ago. For the sake of not sounding repetitive, I altered your request just a little bit. I hope you still like it. However, please check out the other story because it checks off all your points! And is Christmas-themed! Mayari: If You Let Me. Also, sorry for the cringy title. I couldn't think of anything else. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: Over 2.7k Warnings: Explicit. Smut. P in V. Jotunn Loki (yes, cuz he's a whole warning!)
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You crossed your legs as the last rays of the sun were trickling down on your body. Your book was discarded on the ground as the condensation from your Pina Colada dripped down onto the side table.
Loki had surprised you and whisked you away to the Fiji Islands for Christmas— no more crowded New York streets. No more dirty ice falling onto you from the splash of an oncoming taxicab. And certainly, no more missions and assignments till the New Year.
It had been an exhaustive nineteen-hour flight. Especially since he didn’t tell you anything he was planning. When you came home to your room earlier that day, you were greeted by Loki with two suitcases on either side of him.
“Merry Yuletide, Darling,” he said as he rolled your luggage over to you and kissed you on your lips in greeting.
“Loki- what?”
“No time to explain, we need to leave now in order to catch our flight,” he said ushering you out the door by patting you on the bum. You jumped up with giddiness, planting a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek. He was always surprising you with little trinkets and excursions.
“Thank you, sir,” you said in a deep voice.
“Ooh, you dangerous nymph. Go on. I need my wits about me till we get on the plane. I can’t have you distracting me.”
“Then, after?” you asked luring him to a sinful promise.
“After,” he promised in the same breathy tone.
That was two days ago. Loki had kept his promise, and then some- inducting you both into the mile-high club several times over.
Now, here you were in a private villa surrounded by an infinity pool that stretched towards the Pacific, watching your godly boyfriend come out of the water. He ran his hands through his hair, combing the droplets from his tresses. Beads fell down the defined lines of his muscles causing you to heat up in the already balmy weather.
The sight of Loki, wet and in nothing but short swim trunks, was enough to make you convulse. You were sure that if Michelangelo had a model for David, it would’ve been Loki. And knowing Loki, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was him.
He came up to you, lounging on your chair, and shook his wet hair in front of you to tease you. “St-stop!” you laughed as you playfully pushed him before you got completely wet.
“Awe, come on, Darling. I thought you liked me wet?” he charmed as he sat next to you and leaned in for a kiss.
“I have to admit, it is kind of refreshing.” You said as your hands guided themselves around his slick body. “It’s so hot here. I might need something to cool me down,” you tempted.
There was a flash of understanding in his face. Nights of hedonistic pleasure and anticipation of his moods taught you how to read him. If you weren’t so attuned to him- so zealously infatuated with him and his praise over you, you would have missed it. But you didn’t.
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
“Nothing. I just-” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words. “There was a reason why I chose Fiji.”
“You mean, the beautiful waters and sandy beaches weren’t enough of a reason?” you joked.
“It’s in the southern hemisphere. Which means that it’s summer here whilst still cold and winter back home.”
“Why would the season be an issue?”
“Contingency.”
“Contingency, for what?” you asked confused.
“It was about what you wanted for Christmas,” he answered slowly. Confusion still clouding your memory. Little bits and pieces of a long-forgotten conversation nipped at your mind as you tried to piece together what you had asked him to give you.
As if to remind you, Loki raised his hand and cupped your face. As he did so, his fingers turned a beautiful shade of blue. It was fair, yet sharp. It reminded you of the color of blue thistles on a cold afternoon.
As he touched your cheek, a shiver ran down your skin making you shudder for the first time since you arrived. Realization struck you as you remembered the conversation you two had a month ago.
“I think I know what I want for Christmas,” you lured him in. “And what is that, my Darling?” Loki said absentmindedly while looking through his mission briefing. “You." “You already have me,” he scoffed, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I meant…all of you…the other you…” you trailed silently. Loki looked at you bewildered. There were many nights he had dreamt of taking you in his other form, wondering how you would react to him. He’s postponed showing you this long because he was afraid of his feral nature. He would be at the mercy of his urges and base needs. Loki wasn’t quite sure how to ease you into that new situation. Would he be too much for you? Knowing your adventurous spirit, you wouldn’t mind having his beastly side take you. “Why, you little nymph. Now, why would you want to see that side of me, hmm?”
Excitement bubbled up inside you. “Loki, I-” you started, but he quickly put a finger to your lips to quiet you.
“I want this, Darling. And I want it with you. So, if at any point in time, you want to stop, you know our safe word.” You nodded your head enthusiastically and Loki chuckled. “But I should let you know, that…there was a reason why I’ve waited this long to show you. I become somewhat different when I change. Jotunns, in their very nature, are severe. Harsher. They have to be, to live in the climate they do, and survive.”
You sat there, fervently hanging onto every word Loki was saying. “We relied upon each other for strength, for warmth, basic needs…” Loki trailed off, tracing your lower lip with his cold finger.  “You can imagine the creativity we had in finding ways to keep our blood warm and stave off the frigid climate.” You nodded solemnly at his words as if they were gospel.
“If we do this, I need you to be in control. Do you understand me, Darling?” he asked, inching closer to you. You felt a shiver run down your body. You focused on his eyes as his lips weaved a spell for you to follow. “I won’t know how much is too much. How rough is too rough.”
Loki grabbed your hips and sat you on his lap. The sudden move made you yelp into his arms. “Sorry, my dear. You see, I’m already too excited. My body is reacting to you.” He ran his nose up and down your neck. His cold hands encircled your back, caging you on top of him. “I’ve wanted to take you like this for so long.” His hands entwined themselves with your hair and pulled as his lips met yours in a crushing kiss.
You held on tightly, with your legs wrapped around his waist, as Loki stood up and walked both of you to the edge of your bed. When he broke the kiss, you heard him moan before he continued to suck a bruise onto your neck.
You felt his body change. The hairs atop your skin began to stand as the temperature began to drop. The once-sweltering heat that prickled your skin was replaced by the cool tingles of his touch. It surrounded you and enveloped you in a cold caress. You finally understood the need for a warmer climate. With a slight force, he released you from him, falling onto the soft mattress below.
That was when you had your first glimpse of his true self. The beautiful shade of blue you had seen earlier spread throughout his body. His form was somehow sharper, more jagged. Yet still soft and giving. He had markings defined by fine lines and grooves. They traced over his muscles and sinew, highlighting the best parts of himself. You followed them with your eyes as it led your stare down to his protruding cock. Your jaw went slack as you noticed how hard he was for you already.
Loki watched you appraise him. Your wanton eyes grew darker, and your breathing got quicker. His senses picked up every reaction that your body was going through. He was prepared to confront your fear or disgust, but he couldn’t see that in your face. Instead, he saw hunger and need. He could smell your desire growing for him and it made him feral. He wrapped his hands around his shaft, stroking himself to the sight of you, ready and waiting on his bed.
Loki felt ravenous as he knelt over you on top of the sheets. He spread your legs apart, seating himself in between the warmth of your thighs. His heavy cock resting atop your wet cunt. His hands eagerly tore up your swimsuit as they explored and venerated your body. His lip’s sole mission was to mark bruises where his hands had trailed, following the chill of his touch.
“…Loki…”
“Shh, Darling. I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to,” he winked as he nipped the underside of your breast. Too many emotions. Too many thoughts. They were swirling at the forefront of his mind wanting to be said. His desire for you was overwhelming him.
In this form, he felt more primal. His emotions were stronger and almost frightening, but all he felt was fire. Everywhere. An all-consuming heat that wouldn’t dissipate until he had claimed you. His need for you was never as aggressive as it was right now. If he wasn’t careful, he knew he could easily hurt you. He needed you to be in control.
“Don’t stop,” you begged him.
“And what would you have me do my Darling?” he breathed onto your skin. “Tell me, and I will comply.” Loki was giving you the green light. The authority to take over because he wasn’t sure if he could be gentle enough not to harm you.
Oh, but the fire. The fire inside him wouldn’t relent. “Shall I force my cock down your throat till you gag for me to stop?” he suggested with a grin. You bit your lip and moaned as the image took hold in your mind. You moved your hips involuntarily, rubbing against his hefty shaft.
“Maybe I’ll edge you for the rest of our stay. Keep you here tied to our bed, my little slave, until I’ve properly bred you.” Loki seized your lips and held you down on the bed. His cold hands capture your wrist in an icy grip.
“S’cold,” you gritted.
“You can take it. You don’t mind a little bit of frostbite. Don’t you, my love?” He ground his hips as he bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder, leaving teeth marks in their wake. You felt his hard cock rub against your sensitive nub. It elicited the most erotic noise from your lips. Loki fought to keep his composure. With every moan you made, it got harder and harder for him to control his urges.
“I thought this was supposed to be my Christmas present,” you sighed, regaining some form of authority and clarity. You intertwined your fingers with his and signaled him to turn over with your hip. You pushed his shoulders down onto the bed as you straddled his waist.
Loki looked up at you in all your glory. Your beautiful face shining down with love and adoration was enough to heal the worry and anxiety he was feeling. “I want to admire my present,” you pouted as your eyes took all of him in.
His mischievous smile broke through as he raised his arms and placed his hands behind his head. “As you wish,” he hissed as the corded muscles in his biceps swelled.
You traced his beautiful blue markings down from his arms to his pecs. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered absent-mindedly, getting lost in the exploration of his body. Loki blushed at your words. He had never heard that word describe his Jotunn form before and it ignited a warm glow inside of him. Different than the fire, but still heated.
You leaned over him as your study led you to his neck and handsome face. You traced his dark lips as he opened them. His bright ruby eyes concentrated on you. “I love my present,” you whispered before you gently kissed him. “Thank you.”
Loki deepened the kiss, his tongue invading yours, as he wrapped his arms around you once again. His cold touch left a trail of goosebumps as he squeezed and grabbed your ass. He raised you slightly with one hand. And with the other, he guided himself into your entrance. The slick of your arousal coating the tip of his hard cock. “Are you ready for me?” he grunted. You nodded your head, keeping your lips on his, not wanting to break contact.
He thrust deep into your body. His heels held on against the mattress of the bed. He held your hips stable as he continued to drive upwards slowly- savoring how snug you were around him.  Every pull of your tight pussy made him moan your name. “…yes…”  he whined.
You sat up, holding onto his shoulders for support. “I need you, Loki,” you pleaded. Your nails dug into his dark skin as your hips took over his strokes. “…deeper…faster…”
“Take me then, Darling. Use me.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to do this for you. To be good for you. With each push of your hips, he unraveled each time. Crowning to a tight knot in his abdomen.
You waited patiently for him to open his eyes and see the love and pride you had for him. When he did, you were met with an intense sparkle of carmine. Desire and vulnerability shone through, swirling in his gaze. His brows furrowed with pleasure as he bit his lip. “…oh, fuck…” he cried.
You moved faster. Your swollen clit rubbed against his dark curls adding to the already heightened pleasure you were building. You took his hands from your hips and guided them up your body. You placed them over your bouncing tits and he squeezed- rubbing your hardened nipple with his thumb.
“That’s my good little whore,” he gasped. “You like it rough don’t you?” You squeezed tighter around him in answer and Loki couldn’t stop the wolfish grin on his face.
He swallowed thickly watching you enjoy his touch. “Loki” you screamed. The only indication that you had reached your climax and was about to topple over. You trembled over his body screaming his name over and over as you came down from your bliss.
“Don’t stop, Darling.” He pushed harder into you. “Ride me,” he commanded. Loki watched as you clenched around his hard cock- disappearing into your wet folds. The sight was enough to make him tremble.
God, he was so much bigger in this form. You had to push hard to meet the hilt of his shaft. You raised your hips and dipped back down eliciting the deepest groan fleeing his lips. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered. “Fuckin’ good girl.” His head tilted back and the desire to claim you came back. He had to take you faster. Harder.
He dug his heels back into the mattress and slammed his hips upwards. The gasping air leaving your lungs, the wicked moans filling his ears. All of it coerced him to cum inside you- finally releasing his pent-up yearning. Loki couldn’t stop the moans or praises leaving his lips. Your name peppered in with teasing curses and praises.  “You always know how to make me feel good, don’t you, pet?” he prized as he took a deep breath to steady his exhaustion.
“Mmm, yes sir.” You kissed him ardently, taking his breath away from his already spent lungs. You trailed your kisses down to his neck and onto his panting chest. Each kiss made your lips tingle and chilly.
“We should probably get ready for dinner. What say you, my love?”
“Hmm? Maybe in a while…I’m not done playing with my Christmas gift yet.” You responded as your lips traveled further down towards his already hardening cock.
Loki smiled as he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of your warm tongue on his cool skin. “In a while,” he repeated. “Fuck…in a while.”
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🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish ++
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lokiusly · 4 months
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haters saying “what is Mobius going to do in the multiverse saga? Give out pie?” And it’s like yeah???? The avengers LITERALLY ate shawarma after the battle of NY.
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mjolnirswriststrap · 3 months
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Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Masterlist
Word Count: 1,635
Summary: You being obsessed with Bucky and watching him every day during meetings, lingering around too long when you see him, all because of a dumb tiktok you saw late one night.
Warnings: 18+, f!masturbation, oral m!receiving, worshipping the man that is Bucky Barnes.
A/N: i saw this on tiktok and couldn’t help myself, imagine what’s your fantasy by Ludacris, ‘I wanna lick you from your head to your toes’
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It was late and you had work in the morning. You shouldn’t be mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, your eyes were starting to burn from the leds that lit up your face. You told yourself five more minutes, that ended up turning into forty five. With one last swipe of your thumb your eyes read the words on the screen.
“You can look at any object and your tongue already knows what it would feel like to lick it”
Your brain starts rapid firing. You look around the objects in your dark room. For the most part it was true. You could feel the cool clay surface of the lamp on your bedside table, the rubber nubs on your tv remote.
You shut your phone off, laying it facedown underneath your pillow. You move to lay on your back and when your eyes close you see black vibranium. The words dance in the back of your mind. You weren’t shy on the fact you had a crush on the super soldier, but you never thought about him this way.
The thought of running your tongue down his neck, you could feel his stubble tickling you. You felt a chill run over you and your nipples hardened. You could almost taste the sweat if you thought about it hard enough.
You run your hand across your stomach, slipping your fingers in your underwear. You fantasized about every part of Bucky you could lick. But you could only picture one, his bionic arm.
Sure you’d thought about him pressing you up against a wall with it, holding you down, squeezing you tight enough to leave bruises. But you’d never touched yourself at the thought of cold metal running over your tongue.
You use your left hand to finger fuck yourself, giving it a taste test. When your fingers entered your mouth you imagined Bucky, spreading your pussy open then shoving his fingers down your throat. You push your fingers harder on your tongue, holding your jaw tightly, it helped when you closed your eyes and imagined it was metal. You came fast, not being able to stop your right hand from stimulating yourself.
You run to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and cleaning yourself up. You don’t know what came over you, you got desperate, doing anything to make it feel real. You look at yourself in the mirror, you can’t meet your own eye, instead you focus on the tiny bruise forming under your chin, in the shape of your thumb.
You wake up early the next morning, needing to apply more makeup than usual to hide your late night activity. You found yourself staring at Bucky during the morning debrief, taking in every detail of his face, neck and hair. The man dressed like a swat team member at all times, revealing nothing. He gloved his hands, even here, where everyone knows and accepts him.
You found him in the kitchen later that day, glove free. He was setting a mug down in the sink, when you walked in. “Hey.” You say, not wanting to make things awkward. “Hi.” He says, in a customer service kind of way. Like he’s only saying it to be cordial. You open the fridge and fish out your lunch that you brought, a chicken salad, it was your go to for an effortless lunch.
You make yourself comfortable at the counter, chomping away at the lettuce that filled the plastic container. You watched him as he washed the dishes remaining in the sink. You smile to yourself, he’s such a gentleman.
You tentatively watch as his vibranium hand holds on to the dishes. It’s fluid, no robotic tics in his fingers. You know your eyes were locked on him for too long when he clears his throat. “You taking notes on how to wash dishes?” He says, meticulously drying off the gleaming metal.
“Sorry.” You say, averting your gaze from him. You stare at the slices of grilled chicken, not feeling hungry anymore. You got caught red handed.
“That wasn’t an answer.” He says, laying the hand towel on the counter, putting his hands on his hips. “I saw you this morning too.”.
Your breath hitches, he doesn’t know about last night, he couldn’t, you needed to relax yourself and try to lie your way out of this. “I wasn’t staring at you, I’ve just been zoned out a lot lately.” You hope that works.
Bucky nods his head, “That makes sense, or at least it would, if I couldn’t sense how tense you are. That’s the opposite of zoned out. I heard your heart beating faster when I turned around. You’re in the moment, not your head.” He reads you like a book.
You don’t know what to say, do you spill every detail or do you just admit to your school girl crush. You meet his eyes “I just think you’re cute Bucky. Is that a crime?” You laugh, you couldn’t feel your face since all of the blood rushed to it. You close your salad, placing it back into the fridge. “You caught me.” You raise up your hands defensively.
Bucky doesn’t react, almost as if he doesn’t believe you. Even though you didn’t lie, you get nervous, like he was about to catch you up.
“Is that so?” He says leaning against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest. You watch as the metal plates slide into place.
“Mhm.” You can’t even form a sentence as you watch the veins in his other hand strain. Your tongue moves against the roof of your mouth as you imagine the metal shoved in there. You’re close enough to see the details, micro bolts, chips and scratches in the black finish. You can feel it all with the tip of your tongue.
Bucky breaks you from your trance. “I can smell you, y’a know?” Your eyebrows furrow, you thought you used the right amount of perfume this morning.
He steps closer to you, using his body to press you against the steel refrigerator. “Why would your pussy be so wet, if it’s just an innocent little crush?”. You can’t get out of this, so why not go for it.
“I was looking at your hands, since they’re the only part of you’re not covered in black polyester.” You give him a smug look. “Watching my hands made you this wet?” He slips his flesh hand into your panties, curling them at your entrance. You nod, building up the courage to grab his hand, sucking on the metal fingertips. It’s different than what you imagined, warmer.
Bucky closes his eyes as he pictures his cock in your mouth instead of his fingers. “I was imagining what you taste like,” you lean forward and lick a strip up his neck, it’s exactly how you imagined. “, what it felt like to run my tongue all over your body.” You say, surprised by your own confidence.
He pushed his fingers inside of you, liking the dirty words spilling from you. You moan, reaching out to grasp his black vest. “Let me touch you.” You say, pulling his hand from your pants. He grabs your arm and drags you out of the kitchen.
You’re thrown on his bed before you know it, he climbs on top of you, going in for a kiss. You turn your head, not letting his lips meet yours. “Let me.” You wiggle out from under him, standing up.
He sits in the middle of the bed, his feet dangling off the side. You drop to your knees and begin to untie his boots. He gives you a confused look when your remove them and move up his legs to his belt, unhooking it and removing the button on his black cargo pants.
You look him in the eyes as you pull down the zipper. You remove his pants swiftly, moving to push his vest off, you have to get up on the bed, straddling his bare legs. He looks up at you, amazed by you taking the lead. You peel off his black t shirt and he’s left in his socks and boxers.
You move back off the bed, admiring him splayed out. “You’re so perfect.” You say, running your hands up his thighs. You lean down to kiss each of his knees.
You keep your eyes locked on his face as you kiss up his thighs, ghosting over the large bulge in his boxers. He takes a shallow breath when you kiss his hips. Like he’d never experienced it before. “So beautiful.” You say, licking the happy trail growing up his stomach.
Bucky’s been getting a vantage point of view from resting on his elbows. You put an end to that by pushing him down, making him face the ceiling. You press your lips to both of his biceps, hovering over him when you finish.
“Can I kiss you now?” You say, satisfied with making your way up his body. He nods, keeping his hands to his sides while you devour his mouth, biting his lip and sucking on his tongue.
“I’m gonna take real good care of you, okay?” You ask before you get back on your knees. Bucky gets back on his elbows, not wanting to miss the show.
You free him from his tight boxers, letting him spring up towards your face. You take a moment to take a mental image of him, laid out so vulnerable. “Thank you, tiktok.” You whisper to yourself, grateful that a video effected you like it did, or else you wouldn’t be here right now, trying not to choke as you force every inch of him into your mouth. You wanted him to be proud and satisfied, even if it meant a sore throat.
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buckyalpine · 4 months
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I need a feral and unhinged, touch starved Bucky to ruin me.
He’s selfish in giving and taking.
He's gone years without touching his cock, no orgasm, no relief, nothing. Any experience he has had has been long forgotten. The man loves getting his cock sucked. There’s something so filthy about the way he goes feral for it, torn between throwing his head back in pleasure and watching his cock disappear into your mouth.
He used to be such a gentleman but he can’t anymore.
He's a fucking menace because he loves how dirty it is, having his dick in your mouth of all places, letting you slobber and drool all over his length, getting his balls wet in the process.
He doesn't give a fuck who hears either, letting anyone and everyone know his cock is in your mouth, that he's getting the best head of his life.
"Fuck, suck me princess, just-yeah just like that, sucking my cock so good babydoll, makin' me so hard"
You let out a muffled whine in response, still on your knees, tears streaking down your face while he holds your face, his thumbs swiping your wet cheeks. He bites his lip while thrusting his hips forward, pushing his length down your throat. You claw at his thighs, gagging and he lets out a delicious moan seeing your arousal starting to drip with how turned on you are.
"You're makin' me feel so good sugar, you know that? Y'have any idea how good my dick feels right now, how much cum there is in my balls?" He takes a a hand off his thigh and makes you cup his heavy sack, guiding you to squeeze him while you suck, the combined feeling making his eyes roll back.
"C'mon princess, suck my balls next, never had them sucked before-oh fuck-yeah-just like that baby shit-oh fuck feels so good-" His abs tense as he moans loudly again, jerking himself while you move to lap and suck at his sack, precum dribbling down, making a mess everywhere.
He might as well be addicted to the feeling. On more than one occasion, he's missed morning training because you decided to wake him up with head and he loses himself to you, not giving a shit who is waiting for him at the door.
He hears the knocks, hears them calling for him and he'll let them know what's keeping him so busy.
"Buck, you coming-?"
"Oh Fuck yes! Suck my cock, yes, yes, yes, gonna cum, drink it up baby, c'mon, swallow, fuck yes, m'gonna cum again-don't stop princess"
"Well...technically he's coming" Sam snorted, hearing every filthy word the super soldier spewed out while Steve bit back a smirk, "I think your best friend is busy"
Steve couldn't help the proud smile that made it's way onto his face, shaking his head, quickly walking away before round two started.
Tony occasionally goes as far as cheering outside of Bucky's bedroom, especially when the steady thump of the headboard banging against the wall can be heard from downstairs.
No point hiding anything from Tony, especially when he's the one who had to install the xl mirror in the bedroom Bucky requested and god knows he didn't ask for it because he's into fashion.
He's gonna put you in positions that are unholy as it gets. He wants to watch every detail. He's gonna throw your legs all the way back till your knees hit the bed. He wants to watch his cock stretch you open. He's gonna experimentally flick that little button between your legs, using it as his own personal play toy, rubbing and pinching it to his delight just to hear you squeal.
“That’s-that’s your spot, huh princess-take my fat cock baby, doin' so good, moaning for me" He growls, watching he way you take his cock. His favorite thing to do is lock eyes with you in the mirror while your on your hands and knees watching you watch him while he fucks your brains out. Your breasts bounce with each thrust and he doesn't know what he loves to watch more. God forbid your eyes roll back, he spanks you till you focus again.
"Look at me when you take my cock baby, look at how pretty you are when you're all stretched open"
"Sargent-I-fuck-can't-
"Yeah, can't even speak huh, that how good your pussy feels baby? You wanna cum? Want me to make you cum?"
"Please!" You wail and he grabs your hair and pulls you till your back is flush against his chest. He forces your thighs apart as wide as they'll go before grabbing his phone and positioning it under, getting a perfect video of his cock pumping you full of cum while his fingers reach around to rub your swollen button.
"Go on and cum baby, cum with me, together, make your Sargent proud princess, make me dick feel good, fuck, gonna fill you till it spills out, mother fucker-FUCKK" He moans loudly with you, letting your convulsing pussy milk him dry, his veins throbbing as he shoots ropes of cum into you. The end of the video is blurry after all his cum drips onto the screen but it makes it so much filthier.
He's going to record all of this along with taking pictures, always getting you to spread your legs for him, laying on his bed after he's poured load after load into you. I want him to be the dirtiest fuck, looking at all the pictures and videos he's taken, jerking himself off afterwards when you're away for a mission. He can't have you but he's gonna take what he can get. He loves how you moan and scream, how cock drunk you get. A part of him almost feels like a pervert, tugging at his dick like a horny teenager but he can't keep his hands off when he thinks of you.
He's fucking feral even when he jerks off. Legs spread wide apart, no clothes on, back arched off the bed, fucking his hips up into his fist. He doesn't care if you walk in anymore. He was shy at first but now he just smirks while continuing to lazily touch himself, using his own spend to palm himself, the other arm propped behind his head. He knows you love the sight, planting his feet onto the bed to give you a better view while you take your clothes off-
Anyway, my bad, this was sitting in the drafts for long enough, you can go about your day now.
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romanoffshouse · 7 months
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Y/N: Date of birth?
Natasha: December 3rd, 1984.
Y/N: Age?
Natasha: Can't you figure that out based on my date of birth?
Y/N: ....I'm a superhero, Natasha, not a mathematician.
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marvelouslizzie · 7 months
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Same Lonely Night
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summary: Your roommate Bucky Barnes hears you pleasure yourself and moan something he never thought he would be into. That forces him to face his feelings for you.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
word count: 2.6K
warnings: 18+, masturbation, fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n
A/N: This is the second part of A Lonely Night. This time we are seeing Bucky's POV and what comes next. You don't have to read that part to understand what's going on but if you want to, you can find it on my blog/masterlist. I planned this as a 3-part story and I hope I'll maintain my inspiration and motivation to write the last part. Wish me luck!
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. You are the best!
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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Bucky’s head is resting on the shower wall while the water is running down. His flesh hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he doesn’t move it. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he’s trying to calm himself down. 
He really had no intention to listen to you. He was just watching the news mindlessly, but his enhanced hearing turned into a curse the moment he heard you taking a sharp breath. He couldn’t help but focus on the noises you made. That’s when he started to hear the way you were touching yourself. Every stroke, every rub, every muffled moan… 
He knew what you were doing was private and he had no right listening to it, but he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t. How could he? You were so needy and subby. Even in your fantasy, you were begging. He wondered what you were imagining. Who were you begging? Your crush? Maybe you have been seeing someone.
That thought had never occurred to him before. You were always in your element, working, chilling at home, doing whatever you enjoyed in your spare time, and occasionally going out with your friends. You never brought someone home. Not yet at least. So he never questioned if you were seeing someone or not. Even if there was someone, he wouldn’t know, and that thought suddenly hurts him.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your moans bring him back to reality. If you are seeing someone why are you so needy? Are you just that greedy or has it been that long? He’s certainly hoping for the latter. That’s something he can relate to, and it's probably been much longer for him. That’s why he can’t stop listening. That’s why his cock is painfully hard. Normally he would just remove himself from the house, and give you some space instead of creeping like this.
“Oh please, fuck me.” He would do anything to be able to do that. Anything. Just to be in that room with you, taking his time exploring your body and satisfying your needs. Even just the thought of it drives him crazy. “Fuck me, daddy, please.” 
That surprises him on so many levels. He never thought you would be into that. You look pretty innocent. He wouldn’t assume you would have such dirty fantasies. Fucking an old man… Are you into older men or is it just a little fantasy you are playing? Maybe you are seeing someone old. Maybe that’s why your mind goes there. He doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s going on in your private life, and every word that comes out of your mouth confuses him even more. It creates more problems, but the biggest one is, when he heard daddy, his dick twitched with excitement. So it makes him question himself, too. Is he into younger women or is it because you were the one saying it? The latter somehow seems more likely. Yet all of that doesn’t change the fact that he’s listening to you and getting hard just because of it. 
“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He hears how your head falls onto the pillow while your whole body is shaking, and how much you are enjoying it. He knows this is his cue. He should just remove himself from the living room so he won’t get caught with a hard-on. He doesn’t miss a beat. Quickly, he turns the TV off and runs to the bathroom. 
That’s how he ended up here, head pressed against the cold shower tiles, thinking about the way you said daddy over and over again. He is trying really hard not to give in, but his cock is aching with need. A part of him thinks he should just give in. It’s not such a big deal. Everyone masturbates. You just did. Three fucking times! That thought makes him groan. If you can come three times just by masturbating,how many times could he make you come? 
So it’s not even a conscious decision when he starts to stroke himself when he starts thinking about making you come. He can’t stop himself from imagining how you would look under him or on top of him. It doesn’t matter which position. He just wants to feel you. Your moans are echoing in his head while he caresses the top of cock. Just one stroke and it makes him tremble. He can’t remember the last time he felt this turned on. He can’t remember the last time his whole body heated up like this, just at the thought of someone. But you aren’t just anybody. You are you.
Maybe it’s because it has been ages since he had sex. Perhaps it’s because of his growing crush on you. He tried to control those feelings, thinking he was too old for you. He thought you would never look in his direction. Why would you? You are intelligent, beautiful and so cute. Like all these qualities aren’t enough, you are always so thoughtful. You always ask if he wants your leftovers, or if he needs help with anything. He knows he wakes you up at night sometimes. His nightmares are loud, but you never complained. Not once. You always let him watch the news even though you would rather watch something else. You even lent some books to him. They were in such good condition he couldn't believe his eyes. It was like reading a brand-new book. So yeah, he really tried to act like it was nothing but a silly crush, but after hearing the way you moan daddy he can’t stop himself anymore. It was as if you awakened something inside him.
He doesn’t know what to do. Should he take his time or just get over with it? He keeps his fingers loose, stroking himself up and down slowly while his head still rests on the tiles. Even with minimal effort, it feels so good. He gently cups his balls, massaging them and imagining you are the one doing it. You are the one touching the most intimate parts of his body. You are the one ready to satisfy his growing need.
“Oh fuck.” A moan escapes his lips. The shower is running and you don’t have a super hearing like him, so he knows he’s safe. Still, it feels like it’s something he shouldn’t be doing. He shouldn’t be touching himself. He shouldn’t be moaning like this, yet you are so beautiful and needy… He already wanted you before hearing how you sound in bed, but now he wants you even more. He wants to be the one to bring you pleasure. He wants to be the one that satisfies all your needs so much that you would never need to touch yourself. Unless it’s to tease him.
He’s feeling guilty. So fucking guilty, but there’s no way he could stop now. Imagining you does something to him. There’s this primal need in his abdomen, building up.
His fingers tighten around his cock, moving faster than before, and he presses his lips together, trying not to make a sound. He keeps rubbing on that one sensitive part of his cock and finally, he starts coming with a choke. He keeps stroking himself, thinking it will be over soon, but it doesn’t end. There’s so much come that it surprises him. His hands continue pumping and his come paints the bathroom tiles immediately. He takes a deep breath when he’s done, trying to collect himself.
It feels like his head is spinning. He had been masturbating for quite some time, but he doesn’t remember the last time it felt this good. He opens his eyes, trying to ground himself, and all that shame he feels comes rushing in while looking at the mess he made. He groans loudly and then reaches for the showerhead. It doesn’t take long for him to clean the shower and then himself with the thought of you is still on the back of his mind. He is soaping himself, scrubbing, and then rinsing while trying to convince himself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just masturbation. It’s normal.
Of course, he knows how normal it is. It’s like breathing, eating, or drinking water. His body needs it so he gave in, but listening to you and touching himself while thinking about you… That’s where he crossed the line. He knows it, yet he can’t bring himself to wish he never heard you. He might be a creep or a pervert, it doesn’t matter. Your voice, the way you sound while coming, and the way you touch yourself are stacked in his memory forever. It’s something no one can take away from him.
Sighing, he steps out of the shower. Drying himself doesn’t take too long. When he steps into the living room, all that welcomes him is silence. You are still in your bedroom, God knows doing what. The TV is off, and nothing seems to have moved since he ran to the bathroom. So he’s safe. You haven’t heard or suspected anything.
Quietly, he goes back to his room, finds something to put on and just looks in the mirror. Is he really too old for you or is that all in his mind? He doesn’t look older than 35, but that doesn’t change when he was born.
What if you are into that, though? What if you really like older guys? That would change everything, wouldn’t it? You would like that he’s older than you. Maybe you would even call him daddy, just like you did in your fantasy. That thought makes the blood rush back to his cock, making him feel the arousal running through his veins once again. Like he didn’t masturbate in the shower a couple of minutes ago. 
He knows his anatomy by now. He knows he’s able to get hard again pretty quickly thanks to the super soldier serum, but he hasn’t been this horny for a long time. Especially not because of the thought of someone, but the thought of you calling him daddy… 
Jesus… It makes him so hard!
Sighing, he drops his whole weight on the bed and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to touch himself again. It’s for the best if he stops thinking about you and focuses on something else, isn’t it? He tries to think of something, anything that could take his mind off of you, but nothing, absolutely nothing is more interesting. Nothing he tries to focus on lasts. His mind goes running back to you, imagining how you would look the moment he would push himself inside you. How your mouth would open, how you would throw your head back, and how wonderful it would feel.
That thought does it. It breaks his resistance. All the effort he put into not touching himself again goes out of the window, especially once he imagines you saying “Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder.” His hand goes under his boxers, slowly toying with his cock. It feels like he didn’t touch himself today, and the need is even stronger now. After a couple of strokes, he realizes he can’t move his hand properly like this, so he pushes down his shorts and boxers at the same, creating some space for movement. 
He looks down at his cock, already oozing with precum. His flesh hand moves on top of the head and smears it all the way down, making it easier for him to play with himself. He sets a steady rhythm, testing what feels right, but his precum isn’t enough to make it enjoyable. That’s when he reaches for his nightstand and takes out the bottle of lube. His metal hand works fast, opening the bottle and putting a generous amount on hisnhand, before he puts it back and starts to touch himself. 
Now it feels much better. His hand works seamlessly from the top to the bottom, repeating the same movement a couple of times. He tries to get lost in his fantasies but something feels off. He isn’t sure what it is because what he’s doing is enjoyable. Something is not enough. Maybe he should work faster. So that’s what he tries. His hand starts to move faster on his cock, but that’s not helping. 
He’s pretty sure this is what his body wants especially because he’s still rock hard. Should he be more gentle and take his sweet time? That doesn’t seem to work, either. Does he need a tighter grip? Maybe, but he can’t do more with his flesh hand. He glances at his metal hand for the first time since he started. He never used it to pleasure himself before. The flesh looked and seemed more appealing than metal, yet right now it’s not enough.
There’s a first time for everything.
He reaches for the lube once again. This time he uses his flesh hand and pours some on his metal one as he tries to convince himself that this is not a bad idea.
He goes right back into touching himself, just with his metal hand this time. It feels different, really different, and surprisingly okay. It doesn’t feel as warm. The texture is completely different yet it somehow works. His fingers start to work faster, his thumb brushing over the head and, thanks to the lube, it starts to feel much better than he ever expected. His reluctance slowly fades away and he decides to test how fast he can move his metal hand and how much his cock can actually take it. As he paces up, pleasure starts to build so unexpectedly. He takes a deep breath but keeps moving his hand. His head is now thrown back while with the flesh hand, he cups his balls, gently massaging them.
“Oh god…”
He doesn’t realize that he's just said that out loud. He just keeps working on himself, letting his whole body relax under that pleasure. He really didn’t intend to focus on you this time, but here you are again, in his mind. The image of you on top of him… You with all your charm and cuteness, touching him, making him feel this good while he takes your nipples into his mouth and sucks them until you can’t take it anymore. It drives you crazy, so you beg him to fuck you. Just like you begged while touching yourself.
“Please, please, please… I really need it, please…”
He can hear it so clearly like you are here and really begging him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that really happen.
“Anything you want, doll.”
His fingers move like they have a mind of their own. He knows he should slow down a little, make this one last a bit longer because it feels amazing, but his metal hand isn’t listening to him.
“Oh fuck, fuck.” 
He knows he’s about to come. He can feel it. It’s right there, just a few strokes away. He loses his damn mind imagining you under him, split open, and getting railed by him. God, that would feel so fucking good! You looking at him with those big beautiful eyes and begging him for more… Then your name slips out of his lips like it’s the most natural thing to say at that moment. 
Right when he’s about to come, a loud noise comes from the living room. Like something has just got shattered into pieces. His eyes fly open. He grabs his shorts and puts them on quickly, tucking his freaking erection away, and opens his door to see you standing there with an oversized T-shirt on. The glass you were probably holding is on the ground, but you don’t seem to care about that. You are looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.
Shit! She heard me.
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wandasfawn · 2 months
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heavenly . . .
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#. summary! — during a week-long girls trip, wanda found herself yearning for you entirely too much. after deciding to take it into her own hands and cutting it short, she found herself unable to resist you.
#. contains! — d/s dynamic, mommy kink, noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, dumbification, forced submission, finger sucking, pussy slapping, dry humping, fingering, dacryphilia, praise, aftercare, breast sucking
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soft, red strands of hair woke you from your slumber, the silky locks tickling the skin of your cheek as they brushed against it. your eyelashes fluttered and you rubbed at your cloudy eyes, glancing at the digital clock that sat on your bedside table. 2:14 am, the numbers read, and you frowned at the time as best as you could.
you were on your stomach, your face pressed flush against the soft pillows beneath your head. it was a little hard for you to see; with your cheek squished up and your movement restricted, but you were almost certain that the strange pressure you felt on the curve of your back, traveling down to the base of your spine, wasn’t imaginary.
the saccharine, soft, throaty sound of wanda’s voice suddenly filled your ears and concluded your conspiracies, pulling you from your thoughts and causing all of the muscles in your body to loosen; a small gasp escaping your lips.
you breathed deeply, lost in a state of drowsiness, teetering between reality and your subconscious. you weren’t sure if you were dreaming, since you were sure that she wasn’t supposed to be back from her trip yet, but you called out anyway, just in case. “mama?”
wanda smiled at the sound of your voice, a voice she’d missed oh, so much while she was away. “well, mommy would be rather upset if it were anybody else,“ she responded jocularly, breathing a small laugh from her nose. “hello, my sweet little girl. i missed you.”
“mommy!” you exclaimed excitedly once you’d realized you were, in fact, not dreaming. “you’re back so soon!”
it was true, wanda had arrived home three days earlier from her girls trip than she had anticipated, in the principle of missing you dreadfully. although she was in contact with you, checking up on you daily and nightly, making sure you’d eaten and taken care of yourself properly, she couldn’t pry the desperation she felt to be with you, to take care of you, to feel you.
so, with a rather lousy explanation to the fellow girls there that she was feeling rather unwell, and that she should probably head home in case of spreading it, she packed her bags and left for the night. she didn’t arrive home until the early hours of the morning, and by then, the brewing anticipation of seeing you had corrupted her of any sensical resistance.
your attempt to shift in your position was cut rather short when one of wanda’s palms pressed firmly between your shoulders, keeping you pushed down against the mattress. her fingers played with the baby hairs on the nape of your neck, dancing along your skin with delicacy.
“mama…?” you repeated, this time, your voice laced with uncertainty. panic began to rise as the pressure progressively increased, and it was only when you heard wanda groan out that you slowly began to understand what she was doing. she was grinding her sticky pussy into your ass while you slept.
“shh,” wanda whispered, a hand creeping between your unclothed thighs and sliding along the smooth skin there. “quiet, bunny. mommy's just gonna touch you...” she purred slowly, almost innocently, dragging her words and petting your hair with the hand that was idly resting between your shoulders.
you glanced at the clock. it was late, very late, and you squirmed at the thought of how tired you would be when you’d wake up the next morning. the idea of being used by wanda sent a strange, tingly feeling to the pit of your stomach, your head spinning with uncertainty. “mama, please. another night, we can…” you slurred sleepily, but wanda only interrupted.
“so soft… so pretty,” wanda murmured, your pleas falling on deaf ears. she was still stroking your thighs, sighing out in complete infatuation. “mommy’s pretty girl.” she was speaking slowly, sweetly, and it was enough to flip the switch in your mind that turned it off completely.
you wanted to protest. you wanted to tell mommy that you were too tired, that it was too late, and that she could do this another time, but you couldn’t find the words, nor could you speak them, even when your parted lips were moving in feeble attempts to talk. so, you resorted to communicating with your body; squeezing your thighs shut to deprive wanda any further access to you.
wanda sighed at your disobedience, clearly disappointed with your protests, and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. she gripped the backs of your inner thighs with her palms, taking handfuls of them and spreading them apart. she knelt between them, keeping them open, and then raised her hand and slapped your pussy with her palm. she was met with a small squeal, your hips squirming in a feeble attempt to get away.
“stop fighting mommy, you’re being selfish. mama needs this.” wanda soft cooed, green eyes boring holes into the back of your head. you buried your face into the soft, stuffed animal that you slept with, and let out a choked sob in defeat. your body loosened, hips rolling and bucking towards her touches when two fingers begin to rub your slit through your panties. wanda smiled in succession.
“there’s my good girl," she gushed proudly at your submission. "mommy’s sweet, obedient girl. just let mama use you." she cooed, and you find yourself nodding into the stuffed toy, your head so unclear that you brush your fingers against the soft fur to bring yourself back to reality.
wanda’s hips had stopped moving a while ago, but she didn’t seem to mind; too busy awing at the submission that she’d managed to force out of you. your pussy throbbed and pulsated against the fabric of your panties, and she must’ve felt it as she chuckled, her fingers departing from your cunt only to drag a long, muffled whine out of you.
your glassy eyes were squeezed shut, hips rutting against nothing. you were gone, only after just a few minutes, barely able to form a sentence or even think of the right words to say. wanda had dwindled you down into nothing short of an incoherent mess, and she was loving it.
you lifted your face from the stuffed animal and tried to speak, but all that escaped your throat was a gargled moan.
“is there something that you need, bunny?” wanda asked, attentively running the tip of her middle finger along the length of your pussy. you whined at the delicacy of her strokes, your hands reaching backward to grab onto her, any part of her that you could, and this time, she let you. “tell mommy. tell mommy what you need.”
you attempt to gather your thoughts and inhale a shaky breath, your heart beating so fast and so heavily that it felt like it was stuck in your throat. you didn’t need anything, all you wanted was to sleep, to continue this another time, but the surety that wanda’s words held began to force you to second-guess yourself, your eyes squeezing shut in confusion.
“no - don’t want…” you begin, but your thoughts were quickly knocked from your brain when she slapped your cunt once more, the palm of her hand connecting with your puffy clit. “mommy, that hurts!” you hiss, your voice hoarse and broken.
wanda merely dismissed you, pushing you further. “tell me what my little girl needs. you can do it, be a good girl and tell mama.”
you’re sobbing now, overwhelmed with emotions and mixed feelings and as if a broken dam, a flurry of words wash over you, leaving your mouth faster than you can even think. “need you to touch me so, so badly mama! please help, it hurts,” you plead, strings of scattered words flowing from you. your words were true, partly.
wanda huma and strokes your hair, tucking a stray piece behind your ear. “oh… but i thought you didn’t want mommy to touch you?” she responds sweetly, repressing a smirk. green eyes gawped the way your throat bobbed and your tears soaked the soft plush of the stuffed toy. “i thought you were begging mommy not to? to wait until tomorrow? hm?
you’re feeling so hot, the tips of your ears burning along with your rosy painted cheeks, your hands grabbing all over wanda, anywhere you could reach. it was all too much, and you couldn’t help but wriggle your hips and mewl at the overwhelming feeling.
“n-no! mommy…” you mumble, face scolding with embarrassment. begging wanda for the one thing you didn’t want.
wanda retracts her hand from your hair, tapping her chin in thought. “no? you didn't? but you seemed so sure just a minute ago! what happened to my sweet girl?” she pitied, eyebrows furrowing in feign confusion.
a flood of arousal leaked from your cunt at her words, coating her fingers through the fabric. a small, condescending gasp escaped her lips as she felt it, and as soon as you tried to bury your face away again, she quickly manoeuvred you so that you were on your back, facing her.
“oh bunny, you’re soaked…” wanda keened, eyes dark and twinkling in awe, pulling your panties to the side to allow herself a better view. “so wet for mommy. even when you don’t wanna be touched.” wanda continued, biting her lip as she stroked a wet thumb over your clit.
you whined, your hips rising to meet her touch. the ache between your legs was becoming unbearable, your clit twitching with every stroke, your tight walls clenching around nothing. wanda’s words were playing tricks on your mind, planting seeds of doubt and smiling as she watched them bloom.
“this is why mommy knows best,” wanda spoke slowly, spreading the wetness from your labia around your swollen bundle of nerves. she never stopped speaking, stopped toying with your head, cocooning you in a blanket of self-doubt and dependance. “little girls like you can’t possibly think for themselves. they let their mommies do it.”
and when she knew she’d finally broken you, when a small, soft whimper fell from your lips along with a meek, “mommy,” she relished.
“mommy’s here, it’s okay, bunny.” wanda purred, pulling you forward into her chest. “i bet you're all hot and sticky down there, hm? need my help?” she asked, voice honeyed and sweet and sickly, coating your mind in a sticky dew.
you nod desperately, your hips bucking into the pad of wanda’s finger that was resting idly on your twitching clit. you gulped, lost in fixation, your eyes feasting upon every inch of her face. the lines beside her eyes when she smiled, her pink lips, her rosy cheeks. the soft, red hair that defined her porcelain face which smelt of strawberries that draped over her shoulders.
wanda bit her lip in thought, pausing for a moment. a few beats of silence passed, only your soft pants and the sticky sound of wanda’s fingers spreading your own wetness onto your clit to be heard in the shadows of your room. she brought her fingers to your mouth and tapped your lips gently a few times.
“open up. mama wants you to suck her fingers before she forces them into your pretty pussy.” she instructed, and your cheeks flushed at her dirty words. you instantly obeyed, despite how filthy — how wrong, nodding dumbly and taking svelte fingers into your mouth, feeling how they rested heavily on your tongue.
you stared into the older woman’s eyes with your own, your tongue swirling around her now-sodden digits eagerly. she groaned at the feeling, her bottom teeth displaying themselves when her jaw jutted out in arousal. you whimpered when her fingers were eventually released from between your swollen lips, and in one swift movement, slid seamlessly into your soaked pussy.
you choked on a gasp at the feeling of finally being filled up by her, your eyes squeezing shut and your hands reaching over her shoulders to clutch at the soft, red hair that cascaded down her back, squeezing at the silky hair gently. “oh! mama,” you squeal, shuddering as you feel her fingers begin to pump in and out of you.
in the time wanda was away, she’d set a rule that you weren’t to touch yourself in the time that she was gone, and to wait until she was back to do so. she was absent for almost an entire week, and the deprivation of any stimulation only heightened your senses, so much that it sent you flying into the deepest headspace.
wanda purred, “i know, baby. mommy knows. it feels so good, doesn’t it?” she doesn’t expect a response, but when you nod your head slightly, glazed eyes staring up at her, she hums pleasantly. “yeah? you feel all nice and full, full of mommy?” she spoke, softly caressing your cheek with her knuckles.
“so full, mommy…” you mumble, and although she could barely hear it, wanda paused in deep thought. she curled her fingers when they dipped inside you, the tips of them brushing against your g-spot.
“one day…” she began, pausing as if lost in contemplation, the corners of her lips turning upward into a smirk. “it’ll be mommy’s cock.” she declared, pushing a second finger inside, forcing you to see stars. “how do you feel about that, my angel?”
you shiver, the coil in your belly tightening at the explicit sound of her words. they wrapped around your head like a spell, entering your ears and travelling down to the pit of your stomach, a trickle of arousal leaking from your pussy. wanda groaned, the knuckles of her fingers hitting your puffy folds each time she expertly thrusted them inside.
“god, you’re taking me so well, baby. mommy’s good girl, my special princess.” she praised, and you happily basked in her words of encouragement. “i bet you feel so full, huh?”
you could only slur out half of an incoherent sentence in response. it was all so much, enough to make your head swim and pool and spin.
“hm… i wonder if my sweet little girl could take another,” she debated aloud, before redirecting her attention to you. “do you think you can be a good girl and take one more for mommy?” she smiled, pawing at your slit with a third finger anyway as her thumb reached up to rub tight circles on your swollen clit.
you moaned at the feeling and shook your head in protest. it was all happening so fast, and you were still so sensitive, and the thought of taking any more was entirely too much for you right now.
but the redhead persevered regardless, wiping away a strand of sweaty hair that clung to your forehead. “you can take it, i know you can.” she said. "let’s stretch you out, hm? nice and full for mommy..."
“mama, no… can’t take it, n-no thank you.” you interrupted, pleading again in feeble protest, grabbing weakly at her wrist between your thighs. the tip of wanda’s third finger began to slowly ease inside albeit, the next few words leaving her lips forcing a wave of arousal to leak from your pussy and onto her hand.
“that’s it, princess. big stretch,” she lulled, dragging out the word ‘big’ as she began easing a third inside, meeting the tight walls of your cunt that coated her fingers entirely in slick.
she beamed in pride when you took it with no more than a long cry, burying your face into her shoulder. it was so overwhelming, and you felt so full, and all you wanted to do was cry into mommy’s arms, and so you did. you sobbed, repeating small, muffled “mommy”s as if the title were a mantra, your breath getting caught in your throat with each deep, long stroke. wanda reveled in the sight, breaking you down completely, crumbling your independence, only to piece you back together again.
“that’s it, angel. taking all of my fingers like such a big girl! it’s okay, let it all out for mama,” she purred, kissing the top of your head. she was touching every wall of your pussy, exploring every inch, and with the pressure in your lower stomach rapidly tightening, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. you sniffled, pulling your face away from her shoulder, and looked up at her with wide, glassy eyes.
“m-mommy… feeling really tight—!” you warned, but wanda knew that already; she could feel every tighten of your pussy around her fingers, the twitching of your clit as you convulsed.
“oh, you are? is my princess going to be a big girl and come all over mama’s fingers?” wanda asked innocently. “gonna make them all messy with your cum, honey?”
her words forced a throaty whimper from you, your cunt fluttering and leaking all over her palm. your hips twitched as you waited and waited for wanda’s permission — for an indication of any kind, but there was none.
“mommy, please! don’t think i can hold it!” you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut in pure desperation. you were so tight, so close.
wanda kept up her steady pace, curling her fingers inside and stroking your g-spot with each languid thrust as she rubbed circles on your puffy bundle of nerves. with her free hand, suddenly she reached up and tugged at her shirt, pulling down the fabric to reveal supple, creamy breasts; her pink, perky nipples pebbled due to the cold air.
you licked your lips instinctively, and wanda beamed. “mommy wants you to suck on her nipples while you come. can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
you nodded dumbly, and rather eagerly, lightheaded and dizzy and so, so close, immediately latching onto the hardened nipple as soon as she guided your head towards it.
wanda groaned, tugging her lower lip between her teeth. “that’s it, i know you’re so close baby, it’s okay. come for mama, angel, make mommy’s fingers all wet and sticky.” you cupped the soft flesh in your palm, and as you saw wanda strum her neglected nipple with her thumb, it was enough to finally send you over the edge.
you saw stars, your hips jerking as you cried out against her breast, walls tightening around her persistent fingers. she rode you through your orgasm, whispering sweet praises in your ear as you came down before finally parting from you, weaving her fingers through your hair to pull you away from her chest. she kissed your lips and your forehead, your cheeks, and your head, checking you over to see if you were feeling okay.
she gently laid you down on top of her, your cheek pressed to her bare breast, and hers pressed to your head. she rubbed soothing, wide circles on your back, humming a tune as she did so. “mommy really did miss you so much when she was gone, my angel.” wanda smiled, tucking a few baby hairs behind your ear. “i love you very much. you did so well for me tonight, made mommy really proud.” she hummed, kissing your skin softly.
you nestled further into her, if that was possible, smiling pridefully at the praise from Wanda. you kissed her breast, just beside her nipple, and murmured a quick, “i love you, mommy,” before latching on once again, reveling in the feeling of being so close to her.
wanda chuckled through her nose, scratching softly at your scalp as she held your head in place. “mama loves you very much too, princess.” she stated, planting one last kiss on your head.
“m’ really glad you came back early,” you mumbled, half asleep.
wanda nodded. “me too.”
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Bucky: Can I be frank with you?
Y/N: Sure, but I don’t think changing your name is going to help.
Sam: Can I still be Sam?
Y/N: Hush, Sam. Let Frank speak.
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