#bucky filth

[chaashni]

Skin

Drummer Bucky is a filthy little tease and man- your patience is running low.

Warnings: Smut. Switch characters. Dom/sub undertones. Chastity devices. Teasing. A great deal of teasing. The 'horny bitch hour'. Face sitting. Ab riding. This is dirty damnnn.

Patience is a tricky little bitch sometimes. You find your lower lip a little swollen from all the biting and suckling it has been subjected to in the last few hours, your beefy hunk of a boyfriend stealing every chance to grab your face, sweep your breath out of your lungs like it's nobody's business and go back to goofing around with his bandmates.

Fuck him.

Bucky's fingers curl around the glass of scotch easily, an arm languidly wrapped around your waist. His ring covered knuckles graze past the hem of your shirt to trickle on your waist, chuckling to something funny that Torres says, absently pulling you closer to his chest.

If you get any closer, you think you'd burst. Bucky knows it too- that little shit. He deliberately wets his lips, thumping the glass on the table with a 'clank' and spinning it till it reaches a point away from the edge of the glass surface. Sam's warning of "Watch it, Barnes" goes ignored as your boyfriend steels his eyes on yours, trailing his gaze downwards, from your lips over to his hands.

Oh damn.

Bucky fumbled around a little, pretending to search for something. Discretion flies out of the window as he shifted you on his lap, nestling you into his chest possessively and grinning as you yelp when your ass lands over his erection.

Way to go, Buck.

You've barely made through the shock of his boner poking through your pants, an airy gasp spraying out of your lips when you find him nonchalantly twirling a drumstick in his hands.

His palm stopped hovering at your waist, streaking forward and splaying over your stomach, crushing you against himself.

"What are you doing?" You whispered, accidentally moaning as his erection brushes the inside of your thighs. Your lips are under assault again, but this time it's your teeth tucking them in, faint lines of embarrassment perfuming your face as you cuddle closer to him, your eyes never leaving his hands as he flips to drumstick around.

"Having fun, kitten."

If this moment was taped and edited, those papery pink dews would definitely be sprayed all over it, because you both looked that part- mushy lovers who cannot get their hands off of each other. If the tape was given to your friends, they would add some devil's horns and vampire red eyes or have smoke come out of your heads because they knew what little shits you and Bucky were. Especially when you were sitting this close and you were a few shots in.

Your friend group called such moments 'The horny bitch hour'. These annoying little fuckets that you loved so much would place bets on who would snap first, who'd drag who to the first empty space, who'd be the first to be loud. And damn, your drummer had some interesting gambits in these situations, his skilled fingers and twitching lips orchestrating ways to get under your skin, both figuratively and literally.

You were fuming today. The early December chill and your discarded jacket didn't hold two cents to the heat storm erupting in your body. Every teasing touch of Bucky's fingers, every testing lick placed on your skin, each perfectly timed swipe of his knuckles along your neck had your skin burn in electrical flames, the cozy atmosphere your best friend had tried to create sweltering to a blue hot raze. Bucky Barnes worked like that. He had you dripping between your thighs with one look, your nipples erect with one graze of his knuckles down your side.

You sucked in a gasp, chest heaving as your fingers shakily cover your drummer's, his long fingers magnetizingly hot under yours. Bucky's tongue was tracing his lips again, a lock of hair dangling in front of his face. He didn't quite stop his conversation with Steve, dropping the drumstick and cuffing your hand under his, intertwining your fingers. With a sly smirk thrown your way, he brought your hand up to his mouth, wrapping his lips around your index and sucking it without a shame in the world.

"Bucky," you gasped, huffing before you grit your jaws together, shuffling back and grinding on his lap.

"Kitten," he retaliated, having the nerve to give you an innocent enough smirk

"Stop it." You tried to sound like you mean it, voice levelled and steelier, your attempts at dominance working.

Bucky stopped on command. His eyes glinted a little sharper, your hand rising to play with the collars of his leather jacket as he gave your finger a final suck, innocently popping it out of his mouth. Another dizzying grin thrown your way. Another attempt to grind you against his erection. Another subtle flex of his arms as he shifted in his place, spreading his thighs. Another smile threwaway smile granted to you before he was grabbing his drumstick and twirling it around again.

"Your word's the law here baby girl. You make the rules."

Fuck. Him.

You were done.

You were glad Elena lived just a few blocks away, the December chill and Bucky's arm tightly wrapped around your waist being the only reason you hadn't jumped his bones right against some streetlamp or on the road itself. You had your eyes fixed on the little light spraying out of your bedroom, one which you had very conveniently forgotten to switch off, knowing you would both be stumbling inside haphazardly, attacking each other with a flurry of hungry lips and teeth and tongue.

So that's how this is going to be.

"Hey," Bucky started, drawing out his words, a little slurry from the alcohol and despite your indignation, you found yourself grinning.

"Hey, stranger," you started, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him in for a kiss. Before things could get filthy, thigh, Bucky pulled back, smacking another kiss at the corner of your lips before giving you a once over.

"You should come through tonight. You seem like fun. I got drinks. Drums. Toys. The good stuff." He added a wink and you burst into a laughing fit, giggling against his shoulder.

"You're inviting me to fuck you?"

His grin reminaed, eyes darker, boring into yours intently. He inched his hand from your waist to your hair, wrapping it around his knuckles before he tugged it down, baring your neck to him. He breathed down your throat, coming impossibly closer and smirking at your hitched breaths, his tongue tracing a curve from your collarbone up to your jaw. He pressed his lips to your earlobe, growling low.

"We both know who's gonna be begging to get fucked tonight." He takes your earlobe between his teeth, biting lightly.

He can fucking wish.

Bucky had barely twisted the key in the keyhole, the door barely open and a streak of light streaming out, when you pounced.

It wasn't graceful, it wasn't on point. You hadn't even realized you were drunk till you were bouncing on your feet, your head in the clouds and vision dizzy as your boyfriend tried to steady you, bringing you crashing down to his chest and stumbling backwards at it.

Bucky grunted as you almost ripped his leather jacket off his shoulders, your nails digging into his chest through his tee as you shoved him inwards. Your drummer grinned, easily spinning you around and kicking the door shut dismissively behind him. Before you could pull him down for a kiss, he spun you around again, dipping you down and crashing his mouth on yours.

You grabbed for the collars of his jacket, finally doing away with the offensive material keeping you from your man before you were grabbing his face. You stumbled backwards, blindly letting Bucky navigate you to the bedroom before you felt his hands cup your ass, metal fingers running down from the crack of your ass and swatting the back of your thighs.

You yelped, feeling the corners of Bucky's lips lift in a condescending smirk as you inhaled sharply. Flesh fingers pinched your chin and lifted your face up, his tongue snaking its way into your mouth and exploring every corner, devouring your taste and leaving you breathless. He pushed you towards the bedroom door, his body slotted against yours, movements moulding into one as he unzipped your jeans, the fuzzy material of your sweater already bunched up midway through your chest.

Just a second before giving in, though, something in you snapped. Your eyes shot open, landing on Bucky's hands, the beautiful balck and gold caressing the underside of your boobs, and it's warm pair journeying all across back, slipping past your jeans and cupping your ass.

Why does he get to have all the fun?

He had spent the evening teasing you, didn't he? He had you on the edge all through it, your thighs clenching and panties destroyed from the heated stares and lustful touches. The groping, the kisses. What should have been a wholesome evening between friends turned out to be you hypnotized by that god annoying drumsticks which you adore so much, panting and heaving and biting back moans as the boys throw back shot after shot, laughter and giggles and scoffs running around the room.

This was your time now.

How you both ended up on the floor was something you had no idea for, nor did you possess the imagination to think of just how you both had stumbled down, an entangled mess of limbs and half-discarded clothes which you tried to roll off of your skin, your lips pulling you towards the other.

The carpet burned against your knees as you scampered over to Bucky, ripping his shirt off of his shoulders before you pushed him down, straddling him.

"Woah, kitten." A string of curses escaped Bucky's mouth as you wasted no time in pulling his jeans down his hips, his cock slapping against his abs as you pulled his boxers down harshly, cutting off his swearing with a heated kiss.

"What, is it too much?" You tease, panting against his mouth as he kisses you hungrily, cold fingers curling around your wrist. He pulls your fingers away from where you are marking up his abs, angry red lines springing over his skin entrancingly. You slap his hands off, pinning him to the carpet by his broad shoulders before running your lips filthily over his pout.

"I make the rules, don't I?" You cooed, looking menacingly at your drummer, drinking in the sight of him, all veins and muscles and metal- pure perfection, sprawled under you. His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he gulps down, hissing out a gravelly "fuck" before his hands hover over your waist, a charming smirk on his lips as he shrugs.

"Use me all you want, babygirl."

That's what brought you here. Bucky's cock locked in a cock cage, your thighs convulsing as his hands held on to your calves, your head thrown back with each furious lick of his tongue over your pussy, your juices running all over his face.

You had dragged him into your room, pushing him down to the bed and swallowing his giddy smirk as he allowed you to outpower him, complying as you asked him to. You teased his shaft, kissing the tip of his cock and pumping it before bringing it into your mouth, your drummer's slow smirk slowly fading as his face contorted with pleasure. He had his lips tucked between his teeth, his metal hand in your hair as you guided his length to your mouth, the veiny spurts of his girth pulsating under your fingers, precum wetting your hands. You took him in your mouth, slowly, methodically, the months of training your mouth to take him entirely paying off as your beefy boyfriend groaned above you.

Then, to give him a taste of his medicine, you pulled yourself back, letting his cock jump out of your mouth with a pop. Bucky's disbelieving glare amplified when you took his metal hand, which remained frozen cold around this time of the year, and wrapped it around his shaft. When he was groaning in disbelief and flaccid enough, you smirked devilishly, clicking the cock cage around him, straddling him all over again. Your lips pressed to every part of his neck, your teeth marking their trial against his throbbing pulse. Your fingers ran all through his back as you rode his arm, your mewls turning into shrieks as the metal whirred under you, the vibrations deliciously drumming against your pussy and making you wet in a way only Bucky could manage to do it.

You rode his abs next. "Use me." That's what Bucky had said, and you, you were his good girl. How could you not listen to what he says?

"You like this, don't ya?" Bucky chuckled as you whined and groaned, his fingertips denting your waist as you spluttered and crush the sheets under your fingertips, a familiar coil burning in your stomach. Your thighs burned from rocking against his skin, his cold arm lingering over your breasts, your nipples tingly and popped up from all the suckling it had been subjected to.

Bucky groaned under you, his abs glistening from your wetness, a layer of sweat and musk and sex perfuming your room. You gasped and heaved, your breasts swaying over his face for him to tease, covered with just as many hickeys and bites as you had scattered all over his chest, your hair all fuzzy from his constant tugging.

You might have been the one on top, and Bucky might have been the one with a cock cage, groaning and cursing each time he moved, but you both knew who was in charge.

"See the mess you've made on me," Bucky hums as you place both your hands on his chest and fall forward in a heap, a spike of pleasure burning down your spine at the narrow brush of his fingers on your clit. He cups your face, tenderly swiping a matted coil of hair away from your cheeks before capturing your bottom lip in his mouth, his neck arching to chase your lips as you try to sit up. "My filthy little kitten."

You moan into his mouth, resolve breaking as you give into the temptation of his lips. You curse as he sucks your tongue with eager lips, his hand brushing lightly over your throbbing clit, your juices dripping into a wet patch in his chiseled abs.

"C'mere." Bucky grunted, cuffing the back of your neck and pulling you away from him. A veiny hand grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eyes as he gazed at you like you were some goddess for him to corrupt and ruin, before it slid down and wrapped around your throat. "Do you wanna cum tonight?"

The pressure on your jugular increased as you nodded your head, a condescending smirk sent your way as his flesh hand travelled down your spine and smacked your ass, five fingers burning over your skin.

"Sit on my face then. We'll see how much longer you can stay on top."

Bucky smacked your ass again, lifting you up and dragging himself over to the centre of the mattress. You rested your cunt on his face, a loud shriek tearing out of your lips as he harshly sucked your clit, swiping the flat of his tongue all through your pussy lips. You almost lost balance, his strong arms curling around your ankles and supporting you as he slurped your juices, picking up everything you could offer, feasting on you like you were the sweetest desert he would ever get.

"Stay still for me." He smacked your ass again, his growl rumbling against your cubt as you spasmed, your face a mess of sweat and tears as he lapped up your pussy, his tongue sliding into your hole and pressing on the walls. You tried grinding on his mouth, your quest for control long forgotten as you let Bucky and his skilled tongue rip you apart, your breast bouncing as you held onto the headboard, crying out in pleasure and wanting to be good for him.

He licked circles over your cunt, your mouth open and a string of drool streaming out, your voice hoarse from all the screaming you had done. Your neighbours might as well be calling the cops from all the cursing and moaning and screaming that you had done, and you wouldn't find it in yourself to care. Your mind burned with toiled and crashed around, all fuses snapping as everything just descended into 'Bucky' his hands, his lips, his tongue.

"Daddy!" You yelled out when he inserted a finger into your hole, his tongue repeatedly flicking your swollen nub. You coild feel his chuckles vibrate under your cubt, your stomach coiled and mind blank, thighs clenched from the intense buildup.

"Daddy, now?" He hummed appreciatively, plunging a finger into your slick hole and massaging your walls, the cold of his touch sending a jolt through your spine. "Thought you were in charge?"

You whined as he mocked you, his lips curled in the mist admonishing and arrogant smirk ever, and you could feel it despite all the tears and pleasure he was giving you. And you liked it. You liked your cocky asshole of a drummer when he was being mean to you. When he was manhandling you around, displaying you as his object of affection. When he was boasting about you. When he was playing with you.

"Fuck me, daddy." You whined out, shrieking as he inserted two more fingers into your hole, stretching you out.

"Look at that cunt." He started, tapping his thumb on your clit in sharp strokes, each one sending a shiver through your body. "Sucking my fingers so greedily. Kitten, you're so damn needy for me, aren't you?"

You only moaned, your legs shaking as your orgasm approached closer.

"But I can't fuck you. Can't please my pretty pussy here." Bucky lowers his voice to a whine, an indignant alarm in your head shrieking off "yes you can!"

"You got me in this," he must have gestured at something, that stupid cock ring. "So no fucking for you."

"The key. Take it!" You shrieked, half delirious. Your drummer had stopped in assault on your pussy, his words and their gravelly texture being the only friction you got as you sat perched over him, mind half snapped and too intoxicated by the pleasure you were missing to care for anybody else.

And then you were being tossed around, you body suddenly pressed to the pillows, your beefy boyfriend hovering over you, that goddamned smirk all over his face.

"Can I? You're still making the rules, baby."

You groaned, close to crying or probably biting his nippeles or something just as crazy.

"Just do it. Fuck me. Show me you've got something."

That was a little much, wasn't it?

The darkened eyes, the clenching of jaws, the straight line which his lips had turned into, all of it indicated you had taken this too far. This was too much fun for you to back off now, and you were positive you wouldn't be able to walk for a while now.

The metal hand curling around your throat indicated just as much, the jiggling of metal in your peripheral missing your eyes when Bucky swooped down and caught your lips in a bruising kiss.

"I'll be showing you a lot tonight, babygirl. It'd be a show you never forget."

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x poc!reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes writing #bucky smut #bucky imagine #you x bucky #bucky x female reader #bucky x oc #bucky filth #dom bucky barnes #dom bucky #bcky barnes au #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #marvel #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic writer #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x you #bucky fic

[becca-e-barnes]

Okay… there is something VERY sexy about Bucky cuming in his pants 🤤

No bc there IS something very sexy about it and we all know I love writing this 🙈

Because honestly, I think sex could be a really overwhelming experience for him and I think he'd really want to take his time with it. That kind of physical and emotional vulnerability might not come to him so easily.

I really think the tiniest little things would short circuit his brain and it'd nearly just be another point of concern for him. He can't quite understand why the smell of your perfume makes his heart race, nor can he understand why his cock stirs just from feeling the heat of your body against his.

He knows he won't have much stamina, so to speak. He's dabbled a little in modern porn and he knows he's nothing like those men. He's acutely aware that he can, and has, spent hours jerking his throbbing length, covering his own strong thighs in an embarrassing amount of cum but all it takes is a chaste kiss on the cheek from you to have his dick desperate for more attention.

It's all quite overwhelming but he knows he's safe to feel overwhelmed and that makes such a difference. His comfort is always a priority but sometimes he pushes his body just a little further than he can handle.

Like the first time he's got you on top of him, frantically making out. You're wearing a tiny little pair of shorts and a thin t-shirt and he's desperate to explore now that he's got the chance.

"Baby, please. I need... Oh God, that's good." Words fail him when your lips latch onto his neck, your teeth grazing the exposed skin. The tip of your tongue is sinful, paying close attention to the hollow of his throat while you make the most of the free reign you're being given.

"Is this okay?" You ask softly between kisses, pressing your core against his body. There's a time and a place for you to worry about how incredibly wet you are but this isn't it. There's no room for you to be embarrassed by your need. Not when you're settling on top of a man who's evidently just as into this as you are.

"Yeah... Y-yeah, that's fine." The quiet squeak is just about all Bucky can manage, his hands settling on your hips. He's not moving them, he realises. He's not the one rocking you back and forth over his aching length. You are.

"Holy shit." He groans into the crook of your neck, eyes squeezed shut, pure bliss making every nerve ending tingle pleasantly. He's not even inside you. Lord knows he couldn't handle that but he can't understand how this feels as good as it does without any real replication of the wet heat of your body.

He thinks he's got it under control as he lets your body roll against him. He got enough self restraint. He can handle it. He's got it. Right up until oh no, he really hasn't.

"Babe, you have to s-" He begins but it's too late. Pleasure radiates from the base of his spine, cum splattering against the inside of his pyjama bottoms and all he can do is hold you close and whimper.

His length throbs with each wave of ecstasy and nothing in him wants to lose the heat and pressure of your clothed sex against his. He almost feels pathetic for cumming like this, with minimal stimulation but God, he needs it. When he finally has enough clarity of thought, he registers the feeling of your hands in his hair and his brain starts to process all the filthy little encouragements you've whispered in his ear as he came.

When he comes down, he knows he should probably feel embarrassed but instead, he feels safe. He feels cared for and in a strange way, he feels a little bit more whole, knowing he's finally letting himself be intimate with someone who wants the very best for him.

#asks answered <3 #anon #becca writes spice #Bucky Barnes smut #needy!bucky #Just a little touch of softness for your Sunday night #I don't like to just write pure filth ALL the time #and I'd really like to write about that comfortable vulnerability more because it can get overlooked sometimes #it's funny how the hobbies you love don't really leave you #I was listening to 25 by Alex Page #it came up on my Spotify Discover #and I can't stop thinking about how beautiful the second half could sound on the cello #I haven't touched my cello in years #but I'd love to get back into it

[johnslittlespoon]

dog coded bucky fic update btw <3

#also 5k words in and they finally kissed #everyone cheered! #dog coded bucky fic #genuinely thinking this rly is gonna have to be split into chapters atp like this is cooked LOL #i have so many scenes i want to include and i'm not even at half of them but already at 5k words #let alone the SMUT SCENES. where tf are those thousands of words of filth gonna fit #it's looking like a multi part fic yeah lmfao #either way i won't be posting it until it's fully written bc i don't trust myself to commit to chaptered things <3

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Okay, but hollow strap-ons + service tops = GODLY

Like, c'mon, don't you want to see Steve whining and panting as he exerts himself fully, muscles flexing and bulging, glistening with sweat as he fucks Bucky like he regularly would, pounding into him, except for the fact that... Steve has a hollow strap-on around his dick, and he can't actually feel it?

Steve's hard--like, really hard--and he really, really wants to feel how good Bucky feels inside. He really wants that stimulation--hot, tight, wet, and velvety--but he can't.

He can't because Bucky got this toy, the hollow strap-on, for him to ensure that Steve is a pure service top for him, just like Steve wants to be. Steve wants to be used. Steve wants to live off of providing for Bucky. He wants to indulge Bucky.

So, the only thing that matters is Bucky's pleasure. Not Steve's. Steve doesn't need pleasure. He doesn't need sensation to his dick. He's just a toy!

And Bucky's really made that happen for him now...

The only thing that matters is Bucky's pleasure so much so that when Steve's precious, weeping, impossibly hard cock isn't wrapped up in the hollow strap-on, it's locked away in his chastity cage. Steve's pleasure doesn't matter. Steve doesn't get pleasure. The closest he gets is living vicariously through Bucky. Like, fuck, Steve loses himself in Bucky's pleasure.

He goes dumb--swallowing back pathetic sounds and fighting against the vicious twitching of his helplessly, uselessly hard cock--for seeing Bucky's face go slack as he pushes in. He goes dumb, not a thought in that pretty head, even though he can't actually feel anything.

Instead, he's dumb from witnessing Bucky being satisfied by real pleasure. Mouth parting beautifully, gently... licking his lips... then his mouth hanging open obscenely as he pants, "yeah, yeah, Stevie, oh God, give it to me--" his nails dig into Steve's quivering back, his hips jerk up violently, and Bucky's unencumbered and also very hard cock smacks his lower belly "--just like that, mmm-hmm, that's it."

Bucky encourages Steve through his moans the same way you'd encourage a puppy, gassing them up, using a quick, over-eager, excitable voice and petting them. Bucky pets him. Bucky grabs him. Groping and scratching and going and going. Praising him.

It makes Steve keen.

He's so sensitive to praise.

He wants it.

He aches for it.

He always chases more.

More praise.

It's the closest he gets to pleasure in the visceral, skin-to-skin way. He doesn't get stroked off. He doesn't get touched like that. Toys don't need it. Steve doesn't need it. All he needs it direction. Praise is a special kind of direction. He'll do anything for praise. He'll do anything for Bucky.

Bucky's pleasure is his pleasure.

So, Steve fucks into Bucky more, more, more until Bucky's eyes roll back and the flush that has climbed up high onto his cheeks spreads slow and sticky how his neck and onto his chest. Hell, his blush even ascends. It fades up into his hairline and over his ears. He's burning up.

Steve's burning up, too.

God.

He's been engulfed in flames.

He's leaking so much. It's so slippery wet in the hollow body of the toy. It's humiliating. Bucky’s body is making all sorts of sucking, wet, obscene sounds around the extra thickness added to his cock by the toy. That's expected. That happens during sex. But... Steve is making wet sounds, too. Unexpectedly. Oof. His cock in the hollow strap on. He's leaking. He's dripping. He's weeping.

His cock is weeping but he's not.

There are no tears. What would he cry for? He doesn't need pleasure. He's a toy. He's thriving--blossoming--on providing Bucky with all the pleasure he could want.

Steve's burying his face in Bucky's neck, curled over top of him, shivering, shaking, fucking him, chasing Bucky's pleasure, echoing Bucky's satified moans because Bucky feels good, Bucky feels good, Bucky feels good. That's all that matters.

Bucky deserves to feel good.

Bucky deserves all the pleasure his toy can give him.

Bucky deserves the best toy.

It doesn't matter how swollen Steve's cock and balls are from his pent up physical need. His need for orgasm, spilling seed. It doesn't matter how hard his pulse is throbbing through his dick. It doesn't matter if he biologically wants to orgasm. He doesn't need to orgasm.

All that matters is Bucky.

All that matters is being locked into his shiny cages or in his ever thickening hollow strap-ons, perfect for stretching Bucky wider and wider. Perfect for satisfying Bucky. He always needs more, and Steve is giving him more. Steve is his toy to use.

Use him anyway he wants.

When Steve's too fucked out, drunk on denial, sure, but more importantly, drunk on Bucky--on the sweet sounds he makes, on the praise he spoon-feeds Steve, on the orgasms that he indulges in obscenely and unashamedly--Bucky will shove him back and ride him. He'll take him out of the strap on he has on and always find a bigger one, splitting himself open wider, wider, wider on his living dildo. His obedient little service top that he has wrapped around his finger, answering his every call, wearing his cage.

It's been so long since Steve's orgasmed that despite his ever-building physical need, he doesn't want to. At this point, he may die from all that pleasure. But it's nothing compared to all the pleasure that wracks him when Bucky falls apart on his cock, swearing and quivering and clenching, blessing his huge dick and the thick silicone that makes his toy even better. So good. Everything he needs and more. The perfect toy. Ah, God, Stevie, yes, yes, yes!

#fandomfluffandfuck #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #enjoy this filth lol

[iloveprettyboysblog]

Stucky Saturday 💙🖤

#stucky smut #stucky #evanstan #chris evans fluff #christopher robert evans #chrisevans #chris evans smut #chris evans #sebastian stan smut #sebby stan #sebastain stan #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #steve rogers #steve rogers filth #stevebucky #steve rogers smut #steven grant rogers #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes #team cap #captain america #the winter soldier #the winter solider smut #marvel men #i love pretty boys #pretty boys

[our-destiny]

Dark! Masochist! Bucky who just wants to be used by you and degraded by you <3 this is not well written, readers gender is not mentioned, the ending is also weird

Content / Trigger Warnings: Stalking, obsession, reference to what Hydra did to him, male masturbation, degradation (including: pathetic, pervert, creep, slut, disgusting), dehumanisation (includes being called an object, a plaything, a toy, a thing), stalking, stealing, pain kink (including slapping, burning, cutting, scratching, hair pulling, bruises) overstimulation, slight dumbification kink, marking, mention of a collar, spit kink, bondage, ownership kink(?), begging, praise, slight temperature play, slight cum play - if I missed any please let me know

This is pure filth, I am not responsible for the media you consume, read the warnings, minors DNI

Want to read more of my work? Check out my Masterlist

Word count: 643

. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .

He yearns for it, the feeling of not being in control, being used for someone else's pleasure. It's familiar after what Hydra did to him, and he knows he shouldn't want it or like it, he knows he should want to be in control and be in charge of himself but he can't help it. It feels nice, familiar to be an object, a plaything, a toy for someone else. Especially for you. When he saw you at that coffee shop you captivated him, made him obsessed with you, yet he's too afraid to talk to you. But he's been thinking of you, wondering how you would feel. You're just perfect, he can't get enough of you, following you around and stealing your stuff, jerking off to the thought of you. Standing next to you out in public just so he could smell you up close. Bucky dreams about what it would be like to have a life with you, to come home to you, go on dates, cuddle together, all that sweet couple stuff. Or at least he makes himself think of that. He convinces himself that’s what he wants with you, to be normal, he makes himself imagine it, makes himself like it hoping that he can convince himself that's what he genuinely wants. But unfortunately, it's not what he wants.

Bucky wants you to own him. He wants to be below you, to be stripped of all his humanity, to be seen as nothing but a thing to be used how you see fit. You can use him however you please, if you’re having a bad day you can take it out on him, slap him, burn him with a lighter, make him sit at your feet as you tell him how he's nothing, make him lick the dirt off your boot. His body belongs to you, you can do whatever you want to it, carve your name into his chest, fuck his face even if he can't breathe, chain his hands behind him so he can't touch you while you ride him. One of his favourite fantasies is him being strapped to a chair while you see how many times you can make him cum. He sits on his bed and strokes his cock with his flesh hand, pretending it was you rubbing him raw, the sound of him whining, “Please, please, please, feels so fucking good, oh fuck, please,” filling the room alongside the slick sound of his cock wet with a mix of precum and spit. He thinks of you digging your nails into his back leaving scratch marks all down his shoulder blades, imagines you pulling his hair so hard it makes his eyes water. He imagines you spitting on his cock and on his face, telling him how pathetic he looks covered in a mix of cum, sweat and spit, how he's such a pervert for liking this, how he's a creep, your little slut. At the thought of that he keens, tugging his cock harder, muttering, "Yeah, I'm your fucking slut, so fucking disgusting." He throws his head back, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows before cumming over his stomach and hand with a whine, adding to the mix of fluids already covering his body. His hand doesn't slow down as he pants, overstimulating himself until he's shaking, eyes rolling back into his head. He switches hands, the cold metal adding to the pleasure. He takes his other hand and grabs his abs, dragging his nails up to his chest, leaving painful, red lines, using the pain to ground himself. He admires the scratches, the thought of you marking him gets him hard again, whether that be through hickeys, cuts, bruises, collars, anything that marks him as yours. He just wants to be your brainless toy, only following orders, never thinking for himself.

. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .

Reblogs and comments are literally my favorite thing in the whole world so don't be shy <33

#dark mcu #dark marvel #dark bucky x you #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #yandere marvel #yandere bucky x reader #yandere bucky barnes #yandere bucky #yandere mcu #marvel mcu #mcu smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #18+ fic #this is disgusting #pure filth #im so sorry #i might make another part to this because theres some other stuff that I wanted to talk about #if you want more masochist bucky please let me know i will happily talk more about him #my requests are open #and asks #so drop by #masochist!bucky

[neonovember]

Reigning expectations pt.2

pairing: thor x fem!reader

summary: Your feelings of inadequacy come forth as thor tries to prove that you deserve whats been transcribed by the gods

word count: 4K

warnings: illusion to smut, depression, self esteem issues, thor’s dirty mouth, probably inaccurate depictions of Thor and Asgard

a/n: pretend I know what I’m talking about, this part two has been long over due

MINORS DNI

The clang of the mythological metal rang through the Avengers tower as it tobbled from your grip and lay flat against the hardwood floor. There is an imminent silence that blankets the team, as they, all of them, wallow in the confusion and wonderment that had just occurred. 

The cool midnight breeze wafts in from the balcony doors, and New York glitters with phasing lights and smoke.

It lasts a mere second before the entire team has enveloped the space with rapid questions and demands, each derangily looking between Thor and an alarmingly frozen you. You press your fingernails into your palms, and as your ears begin to ring, the rush of realisation hits you hard then, and it almost tobbles you beside the damn hammer itself.

Quickly rising, your eyes scan the tower, and you don't hesitate for a second before dashing through your teammates, trying to escape the questions you have no answer for and the reality that you have no desire to face. The end of the hallway has an enclosed door that leads to an elevator that takes you straight to the rooftop, separate from the main elevator and one you've found all on your own. You were not shy from escaping into the night air to feel the relief of air gushing through your lungs, it was just a tad bit safer 12 stories high.

Pressing the buttons impatiently, you stand erect in the metal elevator, surrounded by glistening mirrors you can't help but scrutinise your reflection. A queen? A descendant of a god? You let out a pathetic laugh that you hide from yourself. There must have been some cosmic shift in the universe that caused you to lift that hammer, a blip in the loops of universes that made up your timeline, anything, everything, just something that didn't mean worthiness.

Your entire life you had gambled with bouts of low self-esteem, it would manifest through periods of deep self-loathing and merely acceptance of yourself. Everything you did, and every choice you made would be scrutinised by those closest to you, and when the team accepted you as their one you couldn't quite understand why. You didn't know it then but that moment was when you truly started living, the team was your bedrock, the resounding calm after the storm, they helped you pick up the pieces when they fell all those years ago, and now? Now you fear everything was about to change.

You slide down the elevator walls, feeling the mirrors crowding you, leaning in, as push your heated skin against the cool metal walls. You can’t face yourself, much less the thought of your mythological destiny.

— -

Thor’s POV

The team looks towards one another, confusion lifting their features from the amusement and loudness just moments ago.

God, you had truly lifted it. Every harrowing thought that clouds and preens against Thor's mind are are all confused and disoriented. But the pulse in his heart quickens, and his eyes glaze over and he just knows.

He always knew you were worthy. 

It bubbles in his heart and causes a restlessness to clamour its way into his chest. It radiates from the tips of his toes to his golden locks, this knowing, it drives him to search and reach for you, for his girl, for his Lady.

A hand presses into his arm, tugging at the tailored navy cloth of a thousand threads

“Thor??, Thor can you hear me??” The baritone voice breaks through his fazed-out expression, causing him to turn swiftly to Steve.

Thor can only manage a gurgle of noise that escaped from his throat, his head swiftly nodding as a concerned look pulls against Steve’s golden features.

“Did you know about this? About another being on Earth holding the capability of your hammer?” Steve asks, eyes widening.

“Not even a celestial being Thor, a goddamn mortal, a human, our fuckin- our teammate, how is that even possible?” Banner interrupts, his gruff voice pitching higher at the end of his sentence. The smell of spilt booze and tobacco intensifies as Bruce sits down on the coffee table across from Thor.

“I-uh, I had no idea” Liar.

“The hammer, Mjolnir, it, it was crafted millions of years before our time, at the hands of mythological legends that embedded a deep power that cannot be explained nor restrained by the-the physics of this world” Thor begins to explain, hands flying across from him, gesturing to the tower and beyond the thick window walls.

The team leans in, the puzzling amusement wafts in the air and they hold their breath, none of them could lift it even a hair, and yet, you grasped it like it weighed nothing like it was a part of you.

What other hidden powers did you possess? What other lurking lineage would manifest out of the blue, causing them to wonder what you truly wore, even years later.

“While it may seem incredibly heavy to all of you, for me, and-and now for y/n” Thor gestures to your seat, before finding it empty, the imprint of your body pressed into the leather but no sign of you.

Thor quickly rises from his seat, moving from the crowding space of the coach, his eyes flicker across from the team, and still, your absence harrows deeper into his chest.

Shaking with earnestness to find you and tell you all the things left at the tip of his tongue and bit back into his lip, the sounds of the team are muffled from his ears.

A crackling fire breathes deep within him, black and blue flames licking their way up his stomach, pushing him, burning him with a sole purpose that bristles the hairs down his back.

Find her. Help her. Keep her.

“Thor? We’re you going?” Tony asks, the drunken liquor that had once softened his features hardened again, the prior events sobering him quickly.

“Y/n, she- she’s gone” Thor replies, his voice cracking as he begins to move

“Shit” Mutters Tony, before moving from his position, calling for Friday to secure the building, barring all exits.

“If she gets out, she’s going to be confused, that power that runs through your veins, it brings something within you, and if we don’t find her, she might- she’s going to..” Thor replies, his eyes darting across his teammates, tugging at his collar which has begun to itch his skin.

“She’s going to hurt some people” Steve replies, an understanding that blankets his features, nodding with a gruff mumbling through a tight-lipped mouth.

“More like a lot of people” Tony snorts, fingers fumbling at indiscreet buttons embedded into his tailored suit. Whilst the rest of the team begin gearing up to find you, and suddenly, like a flash of wind and rain, Thor gritty his teeth and steps forward.

“Wait, stop, STOP, before you all try and hound her, let me talk to her, I’m the only one who can, and believe me, she's not going to want her team mates scurrying around the tower like she's some intruder”. Thor says, before Tony scoffs loudly

“Listen, I get the whole kicked puppy appeal, and I know how you like to play Prince Charming, but we need to find her as quick as possible, this isnt just for our safety, its for hers. Did you ever think about that?” Tony replies, eyebrows raising expectedly.

“She barely knows what's happening to her, and she could end up hurting herself alright? Unlike many of you who think I actually care about the team, well maybe just Y/N but still.” Tony murmur, as he casts his gaze across the team.

“Which is exactly why I, need to find her, not you not the team, not Lady Friday, me” Thor emphasises the word, pressing his index towards his chest.

Tony sighs, he's shoulder giving way, teeth grinding and he bits back a harsh retort, Bruce shifts on his feet, knuckles rubbing across his bottom lip as his mind runs over the hundred questions and possibilities pressing his mind.

“Maybe he's right,” He says, causing Tony to swiftly turn his neck, eyebrows raising as he cocks his head in shock.

“Jesus Banner, you're telling me you agree with him?” Tony replies, a comical laugh leaving his mouth as shakes his head in dissaprovment.

“Look, Tony, I want, more than anything to find her as quick as possible and find out what or how this is happening, alright? But we've got to be smart about this, she's going to be out there, scared, and feeling disoriented, and that isn't a good combination with cosmic wielding powers. The only one who can reach her, through the fog and mist of confusion is Thor.” Banner replies, eyes noting Tony’s scrutinising gaze.

“You should go” A voice rises from the team before Bucky coughs loudly,

“He needs to go, Tony, she only needs one person at this point, and it's you, it's gotta be you” Bucky replies, nodding towards Thor who returns the same gesture.

“Always voted out of a team I practically created, why do I even try anymore” Murmurs Tony, scratching his chin roughly, before he seems to surrender as Thor’s blazing blues bore into him.

Before Thor has a chance to step forward, Tony's gruff voice presses him to stop.

His hands reach down to pat his pack pocket awkwardly, before shifting his reach into his jacket, he throws a small rectangle screen towards the golden-haired god.

“It’s a portable tablet screen that's directly connected to Friday, think of it as a, uh mini Friday in your pocket. If you need us, just click the side button twice,” explains Tony. As Thor pockets the tablet securely, he nods towards him, an understanding that is murmured between their eyes.

And with a turn, Thor takes off into the darkness of the expansive tower, following the route he's carved into the forefront of his mind. The route he knows you take every day, hoping to the gods he’ll find his girl.

--- -

Shouldering the rooftop door open the gush of the city air fills your lungs with mouthfuls, the sting of smoke and escaped steam wrinkle your nose and you sigh out loud at the circumstance you face this rooftop with.

You ride your dress up as you fumble to reach for a maroon brick, shoving it carelessly between the door and the adjacent wall to keep I from locking from the inside.

Walking through the rooftops brick terrace held together by rows of porcelain columns, the glitter of strung fairy lights glistens against your skin, the midnight breeze wafts through your hair and you can't understand why but there is a sliver of unease that runs down your back, bristling the hairs on the curve of it.

Stepping towards the edge of the rooftop, your eyes strain as they watch the waves of yellow cabs and red umbrellas, rolling over and crashing into the bank, pulling back, and pushing into the sea of people that engulfed this city. Sky-scratching buildings seem to loom down on you, as you raise your head towards the skies, towards the thin band of here and there, the world in which its lineage ran through your veins.

You wondered if you would live between those two worlds, between the green and blue of Earth and the luminous realms of Asgard. Would you have to forgo your life on Earth? Leave your teammates to go fight- to go fulfil some designated throne that had been waiting for you since the inception of time? Your thoughts are cut off as you feel that same shiver caress your spine, it's blinding in its uncomfortableness, like an itch you cannot scratch.

And without any conscious reason, you feel yourself recognise the presence of another being, one that feels connected to you, beyond the strained curiosity and shock your other teammates had plastered on their faces. 

This person, they reach for you, the whisper of their knowing hands, strong, as they'd hold you, stripping away everything else, the constraints of normalcy and what dictates ordinary on Earth. Reaching for you, like they know, like they understand, like they too grasp the strength of the Nordic grafted hammer.

“Thor” You whisper, head tilted towards the black oil spill that spreads across the evening sky.

“M’lady” He replies swiftly, the sound of his boots stepping forward from their place leaning against the rooftop door frame.

“How did you find me” You chuckle humourlessly, letting the auburn locks fall across your face, a curtain that guards you against the world.

“If I knew better, I’d call it a hunch, but if I'm being completely honest? I can’t help but notice you in a room full of others, you pull me, like some invisible force, where you go I follow, call me foolish and I’d say I’m but a fool for you”. Thor replies, with a deep baritone voice that causes you to quiver.

You gulp at his admonishment, softly turning your body to gaze towards his lingering figure, a stretch of space between you two that told you if you didn't want this you could still back away and run from it. A stretch of space Thor always kept from you, keeping you at arm's length until now, until he couldn't bare to keep you away.

He overpowers everything, his stature looming over everyone in the team like some formidable statue, the cloth navy shirt and pants going to every muscle and ripple in his body, the threads stretching across his expansive chest and back.

The whips of his dirty blonde hair escape his haphazard bun, licking the edges of his beard and curved lashes beaded with a sunset yellow. The wind flutters around him, a blossom appearing on his cheeks and neck, as his eyes survey your expression, trying to decipher your response through the stone of your features.

“You-” You clear your throat as you continue “You truly mean that?” You whisper back, stepping closer towards him. He looks across at you, eyes fluttering under heavy lids, nodding furiously as he steps towards you, causing you to step back until the small of your back brushes against the rooftop railing.

“Swear to the gods, this is a truth I’ve held closer than anything in my life” Thor promises, he's closer now, close enough where you can trace the sun-kissed freckles across his cheeks or the whisper of a white scar that snakes its way across his forehead.

“Let me help you? Please?” Thor looks down at you, a fire burning within the storm of his azure eyes, waves crashing against each other, the depth of a dark beast that tries to swallow you whole.

You furrow your eyebrows, your heart pounding against your chest as you swallow thickly, looking up towards him you reach for his arm and he grasps you earnestly, squeezing hard.

“I don't want to hurt people Thor, and- and I don't think there is anything you can help me with” You reply, as you press your teeth into your bottom lip.

Thor’s gaze on your bristles,  his jaw tight as he observes you closely, his eyes darken before he shakes the moment away.

“What do you mean?” Thor replies, confusion spreading across his features

“Thor, do you honestly believe I am some kind of long-lost queen to your dynasty? That I, have the duty and honour to carry that hammer?” You reply, your gaze shifting across his features, as a moment of realisation hits him.

“You don't think you're worthy.” He murmurs, shaking his head as if the mere saying revolted him.

You bite your lip, smiling hard before nodding, it was true after all, so why did it hurt so much when it came from his mouth?

“Did you think I truly believed I was when I grasped Mjolnir in my hand all those years before? Every single fibre of my being dripped with doubt that It wouldn't nudge, that some overarching god saw my deepest fears and believed them”. He replies, his eyes glazed as if reminiscing about life before.

You listen carefully, but can't help the look of shock that overpowers your features. The hammer was practically grafted for him, the hilt and handle moulded to fit the length of his hand. His big, burly, thick hands. And yet he was doubtful, a voice tries to doubt his words, saying they are just a front, but you know, deep down, that he is probably the only person who has spoken to you this truthfully, the only person you know looks at you and sees you. 

“And you know what happened?” Thor continues “I picked it up, and with it those doubts lay where they would, and I was so thankful, that they saw everything, my deepest fears, but refused to believe them as true. Refused to give them any chance to destroy me”. He replies

“And now, I come to you, and hope to god I give you that same reassurance, that same ever-lasting remembrance that you are, and will always be, worthy” Thor replies, fingers tracing the curve of your face, tucking a curl behind your ear.

“This isn’t to say I don't carry those same doubts, trust me, darling, they are with me, each and every day, but most days, the belief in me is a little louder” Thor replies, a smile tugging his lips as he looks at you.

“It’s just- it's just so confusing. I mean why now?” You reply.

“Gods tend to have a pretty funny sense of humour, trust me” Thor replies, a chuckle escaping his mouth, it's beautiful, the sound still held back by nerves and the eagerness to not make a fool of himself infant of you.

You can't help but let a giggle leave you, the sound so foreign after so many years of your non-expressive facade, it felt good, to let yourself be free, let yourself go of the pain of everything unsaid.

“You know, before the team, before everything really, I had a sister. She was younger than me but so so tall, and had this amazing raven hair that just fell into beautiful curls down her back. I always felt I needed to protect her, even when I didn't know what that meant you know? And then she died, and my entire life just caved in on itself” You murmur, the memories of those years before pain you, the familiar burn aching just like it was yesterday.

“I was so broken Thor, I mean, just- I was ruined” You smile, tears ebbing on your waterline as you shake yourself.

“How could I possess such power, such significance, when I was so destroyed for years? When I couldn't even bath myself when I couldn’t- when I could protect her. I was weak, and that stays with you, I feel it in my bones. It stays with you” You struggle to swallow around the brick lodged into your throat, blinking back tears that have begun to stain your cheeks.

Thor's hand comes to swipe them away with his thumb, holding it there so that he grasped your face, and scooped it within the mass of his enormous hands. You get safe in them, like the horrors of your past could be protected by his index and thumb.

“The pain, the pain of losing someone close to you, it’s like that of losing a part of yourself, during the battle of Asgard, I had lost-” Thor coughs, shaking his head before continuing. “I had lost one of my dearest comrades, my confidante, my friend. I took it, the pain, and I kept it within me, letting it fester and bellow as more of my loved ones passed. I didn't know it then but I was slowly stripping away, decorticating and rotting from the inside out”.

“I don't think I will ever forgive myself you know? For not doing enough, for doing too much, I don't know. It’s all such a blur, just feelings and memories now, that pain is there.” Thor replies mournfully, pressing a hand to your chest softly.

“But there comes a point where you have to make a decision, to either allow yourself to sink further down the depression and grief, are allow it to be a part of yourself, letting its waves crash over you rather than against you, let the storm take you until it has no choice but to pass”

“It’s there and we carry it with us every day and isn't that enough? Isn’t the pain we feel a testament to our love? To the love, we felt for them? In some weird way, this hammer? Mjolnir? it saved me. Appearing every time I called for it, by my side through it all, and I want that for you, I want you to feel that you can trust me enough to keep me by your side”. Thor replies, wiping away the tears that glisten from the city lights from your cheeks, dipping his head to lean it against your own.

“Oh Thor” You sigh, the sound of his name ripping through you like an avalanche, the emotions you've kept buried deep within the carcass of your chest finally ripped wide open.

Thor shudders at the sound of his name leaving your pretty lips, gods he was enamoured, the way your soft voice whispered the curves and flicks of his syllables. He wonders how you'd whisper it, how you'd shout it in the throes of pleasure, keening as he filed you to the hilt, dark hair sprawled as he rocked into your slick folds.

“I came to his rooftop as a signal of my resignation to this crazy idea of wielding Mjolnir, to give in, yet again to the harrowing voices that had soon taken over every thought in my brain since my sister's death” You reply, eyes shifting to the murmur of the Hudson, the deep river that held and accepting your darkest admonishes, your darkest secrets with open arms.

“And now, now, you've let me see, Thor, you've let me finally see” You croak, a teary smile as you reach for him, your hands grasping at the hairs on his nape.

“How can I thank you? How can I possibly thank you for believing me, my stupid fears, my regrets, my past? For taking the chance none in years had ever?” You reply

Thor looks down at you, the beginnings of an unravelling love tearing through his features, his eyes shining as the gaze over each slope and line of your face, hands tugging as they grip your waist closer to his towering figure.

God, he thinks he’s always known you were something special, from the moment you had spilt half your coffee on him to the moment you had tackled him down on that rubbery training room floor. The curves of your hips pressing into the hardness of his stomach- Jesus Christ.

He couldn't help but spend his nights imagining you pined under him after that, how pretty you’d look with him taking care of you, and now, with the reality, you would both be faced with, with you being able to imprint your presence in the city and world he loved, his cock throbbed with need.

He could picture it now, your curved back sleeping peacefully in his bed in Asgard, left bare save from the threaded blanket strewn between you both. The shine of the city’s morning light filtered into the large pane windows of the castle. Thor answering calls from the team, before you nudged him gently, the need spreading across your face with the bite of your lip and flutter of your eyes. Throwing the tablet across the room before pressing into you sopping heat with a groan, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he shushes you gently “I know baby, I know, let me take care of you hm?” And oh would he fulfil your every burning, dying wish. 

Thor didn't have much these days, just stolen memories and tobacco-burnt loves. But now, now he felt he had you, entirely, now he felt you had him, wholly. Until all you saw was a man who wanted to love you, and all he saw was a goddess beneath him.

“Hold me tight, My Lady, and don’t ever let go” Thor presses into your neck, before the burning blue light of Mjolnir colours your eyes, the rooftop terrace, and the sky above. The electricity pushing you forth into the sky as Thor guides your hands to the hilt, letting you feel the power that surges in you, the power that is destined and owed to you, and you only.

His Queen.

Divider by @firefly-graphics !

Requests are always open, however as school begins my updates my be significantly shortened.

#thor odinson imagine #thor odinson x reader #thor fluff #thor x reader #thor odinson x fem!reader #thor odinson x black!reader #Thor Odinson #thor odinson x you #thor odinson x woc!reader #thor odinson x powerful reader #avengers x reader #Tony stark x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #mjolnir #asgard #thor x queen!reader #thor x smut #thor x filth #thor odinson x filth #thor odinson x smut #thor odinson x y/n #Thor Odinson fanfiction

[stuckysbike]

Howl 6

A/n: please forgive me it’s been a long long time since I’ve written anything, much less posted. All mistakes are my own. 

Final Chapter! Thanks for those who stuck with me.   Werewolf AU Werewolf!Bucky x Werewolf!Reader Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader (for now). Warnings: werewolf Bucky, werewolf Steve, werewolf Nat, dark themes. Mature, 18+. Exes to lovers. This chapter contains smut, P in V, cumplay, blood and a special guest star who I have a soft spot for... (If I’ve missed anything please let me know!)

Bucky was lying in bed, the lamp casting a low glow over the room. He was propped up against a pile of pillows, a book in his lap.

 He looked good, with no shirt on and a knee bent out from beneath the blankets.

 “We need to talk,” you said folding your arms over your chest and leaning on the wall. You tried to appear casual but inside you were anything but.

 “Now isn’t a good time,” Bucky sighed.

 “Yeah, when is? Because we’ve been avoiding this for months and-“

 “It’s three in the morning,” Bucky huffed tiredly.

 You nodded and pursed your lips. “Well you keep avoiding me but we need to talk,” you repeated stubbornly.

 “Look doll, go to bed and we’ll get time to talk during the week yeah?” Bucky flicked his eyes down to his book clearly dismissing you.

 You stared for a few heartbeats, but you were sick of this hot and cold, one minute Bucky was there for you, supportive and strong and the next he was icing you out. And the jealousy, possessive one moment and passive the next, you were starting to fray, and a symptom of that was your body.

 “I’m coming into heat. Early; brought on, I suspect, by living here, by not knowing where I stand,” you said as the unusual feeling tingled in your tummy. You’d only had one heat before, when Jamie was conceived. An unmated Omega didn’t tend to catch them.

 Bucky’s eyes were locked on you now, and you watched his tongue make a path along his bottom lip. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed, nest and let him take care of you, but that fantasy was slipping through your fingers like sand.

 When he didn’t speak you sighed. “I’ll need to uh- make alternative arrangements to staying here.”

 Bucky snorted, his shoulders tensed, but still he didn’t speak.

 “I’ve got a few days before it really starts, I’ll get a room or something, I don’t want to irritate you,” you said.

 Tight pains shot across your chest, as still he didn’t speak, and you were starting to realise that this wasn’t what you thought. He was keeping you around because of Jamie, not because he wanted you there.

 “I was just letting you know Buck,” you said stepping back into the hallway and closing the door with a soft click. You paused at Jamie’s door, peeking in through the tiny gap. Jamie was snoring softly, blankets pulled around him.

 Your bed was cool when you slid in and you rested your cheek on the pillow. You had been hoping that once you and Jamie settled in that Bucky might be willing to try again, and you’d have a chance to finally finish high school, maybe pick up some classes online while you worked part time but that wasn’t going to work anymore. You’d need to pick up more shifts if you were to be able to afford a place of your own with enough room for your little boy.

 Disappointment left you feeling sour as you closed your eyes to sleep knowing that it likely wouldn’t come and you had yet another long night of thinking ahead of you.

 —————

 You closed your eyes, rocking your hips, loving the power you felt as you wiggled your body.

 Out of your perpetual vision you saw a hand coming up, third time in five minutes. You slapped it away and twisted, waggling your finger in his face and tisking as you rested your weight on his thick thighs.

 “Now now Lee, we both know you’re not allowed to touch me,” you said as you rested your forearms on his shoulders.

 He smirked at you and you smirked back. Lee Bodecker was the sheriff, and he just happened to be Bucky’s cousin. Although a little chunkier and shorter he was a lot like Bucky and you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy dancing for him.

 It was a Wednesday afternoon, a slow day with very little happening. You were desperate for a few extra shifts to try and build up some cash so you could find a safe place to manage out your heat so you were picking up anything going.

 “You’re a pretty girl,” his voice was husky. “Hard to keep my hands to myself sugar.”

 He leered a little and you rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah well times up handsome,” you grinned as you rose and stepped back.

 “Awww sugar no, a little extra, for old times’ sake,” he pouted but you shook your head and giggled. you had barely known Lee before you came back, he was your boyfriends older cousin that you saw occasionally at school or family events.

 “Be a good boy and I’ll see you in a few weeks,” you promised. He pouted as you stepped back then his eyes widened slightly.

 You bumped into a solid wall of warm muscle and turned to see Bucky glowering at his older cousin, his arm sliding possessively around your waist.

 “We need to talk,” he growled in your ear. You tried to suppress the shiver but it didn’t work.

 “Oh now you want to talk?” You scoffed, letting your sass seep out. Dancing made you feel powerful and bantering with Lee had you in a good mood.

 He growled your name and you resisted the urge to press your thighs together least he might notice. Your body still wanted him, it hadn’t got the memo he wasn’t interested.

 “See ya Toots,” Lee called arrogantly after you. Bucky sent him a glare as he tugged you, once again, to the car park.

 “Jeez Buck you know how to make a girl feel special,” you teased. His grip tightened and he shook your arm then pulled you around to face him.

 “Why don’t you shut the fuck up?” He snapped.

 You lifted an eyebrow. “Why don’t you make me?”

 “Fuck you!” Bucky walked you backwards cupping your skull at the last moment to protect your head from the side of his truck.

 “You won’t,” you licked your lips, heat pooling in the pit of your tummy.

 The sound of a car alarm drew both of your attention; you followed Bucky’s gaze as it turned to the newcomer. Lee was busy placing his hat on the roof of his car. Bucky growled at him.

 “Word of advice Cousin,” he said as he sucked on his teeth, “don’t fuck this up.”

 “What?” Bucky snapped at him, a frown on his face. The hand on your shoulder loosened.

 “Well if she were my girl,” Lee paused and the smirk he had on his face was private and you could only imagine what he was thinking as he licked his lips, “I would let her dance. Look at her, she’s beautiful, every man in there wants her. If she were mine, well, everyone would know she was my girl. I’d watch her dance, I’d watch them leer over her, then, at the end of the night she’d be going home with me, and them bastards would be going home with their hand.”

 “Lee, fuck off,” Bucky growled.

 Lee sniffed and nodded, placing his hand back on his head. He tipped it towards you. “If he doesn’t pull his head out of his ass give me a call darlin’ and I’ll take real good care of you.”

 Bucky growled again then turned furious eyes on you. You looked up at him, your heart racing.

 “You’re mine, and I’m sick of this ‘sticking your ass in other people’s faces’ business. You’re mine!”

 Bucky’s eyes were wild, feral even. He was going to hit his rut before your heat.

 “Oh, so I’m yours?” You asked.

 Bucky nodded crowding closer. “You’re mine.”

 “Prove it.”

 His bite was harsh over your mating gland. It wasn’t a full bite, but a mark of intention. You felt blood trickle over your collarbones as he ground himself against your body.

 “That proof enough for you doll?” Bucky’s voice was low and gritty and you shivered despite yourself. He carefully licked the blood away and nosed at your neck.

 Your omega was preening but you hushed her, you weren’t that easy.

 "You think one little nip and I'm yours?" You pursed your lips. "You've been an ass to me Bucky."

 Bucky scrunched his nose up, he leaned closer and took a deep breath, resting his forehead against yours.

 "Baby I-"

 "No," you glared at him, your hands on his shoulders pushing him away. "No pet names. Now, I'm going back to work. If you really want to make this work, we can talk over dinner."

 With that you turned away and walked to the back door of the club. You paused, looking back over your shoulder. Bucky was watching you, his eyes dark and stormy, but you could have sworn his lips twitched into a smirk for a second. With a small wave, you clicked the door shut and stepped into the club.

 Technically your shift was over when Lee left but you didn’t mind staying on for a bit. As you took a podium next to the stage you saw Bucky enter through the door he’d pulled you from a few minutes ago. He took a seat, rested his ankle on his knee, clasped his fingers over his tummy, and kept his eyes on you for next hour.

 —————

 Bucky, I changed my mind, I don’t want to talk, I’d rather we talk later and do something more fun now. I’m heading to the cabin; I hope the woods are safe for a soft omega such as myself…xx

 —————

 Your heart hammered in your chest, your legs burned and you could smell the blood left behind from the branches that snatched at you.

 There was a growl behind you, closer than ever.

 You pushed on, catching a glimpse of the light in the cabin. The warm glow begged you to hurry, welcomed you and you decided you would take your chances with the wide meadow.

 You ran, ignoring every protest your body made. Heat trickled down your back, but a sudden burst of adrenaline pushed you on.

 He growled behind you, gleaming white fangs snapping in the night. You pushed on, leaping over a small stream and practically throwing yourself over the fence. By some miracle you landed on your feet and you dashed the last few meters to the porch, the door.

 You fell inside with a bang, the door slamming against the wall, but he was right behind you, looming over your body as you twisted onto your back.

 You tried to push away, and he followed you, his massive body caging you in. He changed as he moved, his body shifting and morphing before your eyes.

 It was an intimate thing an alpha shifting. They rarely let others watch. You were one of the few.

 He growled your name out, and you shivered. “I’m about sick of this dance we’re doing darlin’,” he whispered. “It’s time I took what’s mine.”

 You swallowed and nodded. “I agree.”

 “I’m going to bite you. Mate you. Claim you. Might even breed you. You want that? Huh?”

 You hesitated, and he smirked, his eyes burning into you. He caught a handful of your hair and pulled your head back roughly. “I asked you a question.”

 His breath was hot on your throat, and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. You parted your lips and ran your tongue around them. Bucky mirrored your movement, and you clenched your thighs together.

 His eyes softened and searched your face.

 “Enough games baby, do you want this, do you want me?”

 You understood that this wasn’t part of the game, this wasn’t playtime. This was Bucky asking for your consent, your commitment.

 “I’ll take care of you, I promise, you just need to let me,” his tender words made your heart clench.

 “You’re all I’ve ever wanted love,” you told him.

 He brushed his chapped lips against your well bitten ones, slipped his tongue into your mouth. He rolled his hips down into you as he deepened the kiss, owning you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tangled your fingers into his hair.

 You felt his hard length against your lace covered centre, but you didn’t want that, not yet. Instead you rolled to your front and looked over your shoulder, pressing your ass into Bucky’s crotch.

 “Undress me,” you begged. Bucky smirked and within a minute you were naked. His hands gripped your arms trying to turn you over, but you played shy knowing it was what he wanted. “No.”

 Bucky chuffed and buried his face in your neck. “You’re killing me here doll,” he complained.

 “Promise you won’t look,” you teased again. Bucky snorted.

 “Yeah, dollface, I won’t look,” he raised back and sat on his haunches. His thick thighs bunched and his hard cock curved towards his tight abs. His eyes never left you as you rolled over, and he easily tugged your arms away from your body. “Tits got bigger.”

 You slapped him and he laughed, but then his face turned serious. “Bucky?”

 “I don’t want our second first time to be on the floor.”

 —————

 “Present,” Bucky growled low in his throat.

 You spread you knees, pushed your ass into the air and pressed your chest into the bedsheets below.

 You were already aching, wrung out from Bucky’s mouth on you and now he would take you as his own, snapping an unwavering bond in place forever.

 You would be omega no more; you would be his alpha female now. His equal.

 Bucky ran his fingers through your slick pussy, then used your juices to stroke his cock. He leaned forward and with his other hand grasped the two of yours in one of his.

 You whined, rutting back and he snarled in response, snapping his jaw at you.

 His cock was long and thick, and despite thorough preparation he felt almost too big. “Easy girl,” he hummed soothingly. “Good girl.”

 Normally you hated condescending words but you whined again trying to move back but he held you fast.

 “Bucky please,” you slurred. The last time you had been together he was a boy, strong but slim, a beta wolf. Years of hard work and had made him imposing, big but you still felt the same, small in comparison to his bulk.

 He sunk in slow, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock.

 “Baby,” he practically purred as he buried his face in your neck. He licked over your mating gland, and you clenched around him again.

 “Come on, please love fuck me,” you pushed against him. You could feel the veins on his cock against your walls as you clenched around him.

 Bucky pulled back slow then snapped his hips forward. The bed rattled as Bucky fucked your open, nipping the skin on your neck.

 He fucked you hard, hips slapping into yours as you both panted and gasped for air. His cock brushed over your sweet spot repeatedly bringing on yet another orgasm.

 You cried out, throwing your head back, and then Bucky flipped you onto your back. He loomed over you dark and strong, his eyes lust blown.

 “You ready?” He asked, his face open and sincere. You could feel him throbbing inside you and you nodded pulling his head down to yours smashing your lips together.

 “Fuck me please,” you said. Bucky picked up his pace, his mouth capturing a nipple as he fucked you hard. You hooked your ankles behind his back and bared your throat to him.

 Bucky did the same to you, baring his mating gland and pulling your face to his neck.

 He bit you first, and the mixture of pleasure and pain triggered another orgasm.

 Bucky’s seed flooded you, and you cried out as he pumped his hips repeatedly into you.

 You couldn’t stop licking and lapping at your mark on him, tasting his blood in your mouth. Bucky was doing the same, nuzzling into you.

 He drew his lips to yours and the kiss you shared was tender, Bucky’s hand cupping your chin to hold you in place. “I’m yours now doll, never gonna’ get rid of me.”

 You smiled up at him. “I’m yours, and I never want to be apart from you again Bucky. I love you so much.”

 As you law nuzzling each other you felt the bond slip into place. You lay there as long as you could stroking his back and hair and you gazed up at the ceiling.

 Eventually he pulled out, and you both watched as his fingers gathered your mixed juices and pushed them back in.

 “So fucking beautiful,” he muttered as his other hand trailed over your abdomen, his fingers tracing the little silver stretch marks left behind by Jamie.

 “Not so bad yourself,” you teased nudging his cheek with your foot. Bucky chuckled, nipped the arch of your foot then covered your body with his to ready you both for another round.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #werewolf!Bucky Barnes #werewolf reader #werewolf au #filth #smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes imagine

[kangofu-cb]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Marvel 616, DCU (Comics), Avengers (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Jason Todd Additional Tags: Edgeplay, Under-negotiated Kink, Overstimulation, Crymaxing, Dom!Jason, willing participant Bucky, not really subby enough Clint, but they work him up to it, Multiple Orgasms, Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Spitroasting, Rimming, Bondage, look there's a lot going on here okay, I think I hit the highlights Summary:

“You said anything I wanted,” Jason reminded him, “and now I’ve got several very good hours of your undivided attention to work with.”

  Clint swallowed convulsively, but then his chin came up. “Bring it,” he taunted.

  “Shouldn’ta said that,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for all of them to hear.

  Jason raised one eyebrow.

  “Actually –” Clint started, but Jason raised the other eyebrow expectantly and his jaw snapped shut.

  “No apology?” Jason asked.

  Clint’s mouth stayed stubbornly shut.

  “No ‘I’m sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have kidnapped you’?”

  “I’m sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have kidnapped you,” Clint said, slightly petulant.

  “Hmm.” Jason pretended to think about it. “What about Bucky? No ‘I’m sorry, honey, I shouldn’t have hit you with my car’?”

  “I’m sorry, honey, I shouldn’t have hit you with my car,” Clint parrotted flatly.

 The plotless, sexy follow-up to Clara's WHH October ficlet.

#cb writes #winterhawkhood #clint/jason/bucky #this is abject filth #just unapologetic hedonism #please read the tags

[chaashni]

Perfect

Where a breakup doesn't go easy on you but maybe, it was meant to lead you both back together.

Dancer!reader x Makeup Artist!Bucky.

Warnings: First time writing angst! Feels. Some career oriented people. Some bitterness. Hopeful ending. Bucky wears eyeliner in this, beware.

Divider by @

He always reminded you of the moon. Gnashed piece by piece, suture by suture of imperfections all crumbling in beautiful entropy and coalescing together to form something so beautiful, you couldn't bring yourself to look away.

"Pretty, isn't he?"

One of your fellow dancers swooned and gigglednas her eyes wolfishly follow the curve of Bucky's back, his brown hair toppling to the front of his face as he laughs at something one of the cameramen says. You turned to look at your friend, cringing when you found she was already in her practice outfit- those tights and heels adding to her a definition which your loose cardigan and jeans lacked.

You had to change. Clara also needed to shut up about Bucky and his arms, because you were not having any of it.

You didn't want to hear about him. Specifically, you didn't want to hear people talk about how much they wanted him.

"Rehearsals in ten," you murmured, intercepting her speech about how much she wished Bucky would bend her over some equipment stacked away in your crew trucks, maybe some music box or stage prop- and have his way with her.

The fuck he will.

Bucky's the gentleman. The perfect partner anybody could wish for, who respected you and propelled you forward and played your body like a fine-tuned instrument behind closed doors. He was everything you could dream of and more.

So why were you here then?

Broken up, scarred from the scandalizing truth that love isn't enough. You thought about it when your body ran out of adrenaline, broken pieces of the glass of denial pricking your feet, a sheen of tears glossing over your eyes at how empty you felt without him.

You marched up to your trailer, swinging the door open and climbing in. The tinted windows hid what happened inside from the eyes outside, but from the translucent screen, you could see him.

He was just as pretty. Eyeliner slightly smudged from his waterline to the perfect array of lashes, and to the very last bone, he looked exquisite. And he was looking straight at you.

You blinked, sighing as his face remained trained in the direction of your bus, your clothes crumpled over your travel bag. Rory, the makeup artist who had to quit midway through the shows because of a legal mishap back at home, was talking to him. You gave him one fleeting look before pulling your eyes away from him, a haunting burn in your chest as you moved to the other side, ready to change.

Two years. Two complete revolutions of the earth around the sun, more than seven hundred days. If you had to keep a track of all the places you had been to, all the people you had met and of things you had tried, you would mess up at least once. You travelled, danced, and had fun. You had explored, learnt new stuff, had new experiences, made and broke relations. You had experienced growth first hand, you tasted happiness.

So why were you swaying to this tumultuous onslaught of emotions the moment Bucky was back?

You pulled away your cardigan, replacing it with the crop top and tights. You checked a map of the stadium you were supposed to perform in today, the winter fest which would be attracting a crowd of eighty thousand or so and you had to make sure you didn't mess anything up. Nothing could be more important than this, dancing and performing was your priority. Everyone else could go fuck themselves.

Rehearsals and stage balancing faded into a blurry bokeh of people, heels and flashy clothes, your mind infiltrated by a daunting presence in the form of a man whose soft hands and baby blues comprised your world at some point in time, a man you had lost to both of your professions and careers.

With a million butterflies squirming in your stomach, you sulked your way to the dresssing room, a frown etched on your face and fingers threading through your hair over and over again. You tried to replay tonight's choreography in your head, wishing for once your crew was the background for some musician and not the solo performers. Your emotions were all over the place today and you weren't sure of what you would deliver.

The three makeup artists you had with the crew were all bunched up over your friends, all concentrated on whatever they had to do to make you shine. The only difference today was that in place of Rory, we had Bucky, which meant six feet four of pure muscle in place of a petite young lady. It was surprising watching him work sometimes, the most delicate of brushes and the lightest of strokes of the eyeliner delivered from such huge, veiny hands. It messed with your mind back in those days, invoking corrupted images of what those hands could do.

Much to your chagarin, that was something which hadn't changed over the last two years.

Now that you were here, perched at the edge of a stool, legs crossed and fingers knitted together, an overexcited Clara chattering away next to you, you took your time to analyse Bucky. He hadn't changed much either, except for the line of the lighter shade of brown that hung from his temple and caressed the side of his cheek, falling over his eyes occasionally. He looked fit, maybe a tidbit beefier than the last time you had seen him. Somehow even now, his mere presence was enough to lull the distant cacophony of your brain into a comforting silence.

The snap of fingers in front of your face jolted you out of your little dreamscape, Clara's amused face filling up most of your vision.

"Your turn, babe. Got a call to make."

And with that you were rising up, almost robotically, moving towards the one person you had avoided, much like a deer straying from the rustling of leaves. You take your time walking over to the two people, nodding a hello to the others before you look at Bucky.

He's smiling at you. Softly. You don't dare read more into his expression, a familiar warmth bubbling in your chest. It outshines the pit in your stomach, the warm smile his lips lift into prompting yours into curling upwards. You take a deep breath and settle in the chair, trying very hard to ignore your heart beating out of your chest, your face embarrassingly hot and as your ex bends down to put eyeshadow over your eyes, tracing them out with the eyeliner as Josh works on your hair.

There was a time when those rose pink lips would map your face. Now you just had his hands, working on what he did best, prepping you up for your performance. When it was done you mumbled a 'thank you' at the hair and makeup guys, your throat going dry as you caught the look your ex lover was giving you. It was the same look you had given him when he first arrived in the morning.

A look which could only be described as reverence, like he couldn't believe you were real. Just the way you had felt. Like he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that you were there, present, in front of him. Just what you had struggled with all damn day. The corners of Bucky's eyes were also dusted with a vague despair, like it hurt him to be so close to you, but not hold you. Just the way you had been feeling all day and beating yourself up for it.

You had broken up, years back. It was a mutual agreement, but an initiative taken by Bucky. You had promised to remain in touch, but you had deleted him from every aspect of your life the moment you stepped out. Focusing on your career like that was all you ever cared about. Which was partially true but it was aggravated to forget about him. So why did your brain and body feel the need to melt against him, pour out everything and strip yourself bare again for him to love?

“Butterfly,” The soft call of a nickname you hadn’t heard in the last two years, the same voice you loved- love- so much stirred you out of the little stagelight musing you had entrance yourself into. You were backstage, the heavy curtains keeping you from the brain of the lights and the uproar of an excited crowd, your dance group being one of the internet popular groups that pulled in audiences from all around the country.

You had your leg raised on a stool, your six inch pumps lined with straps of pasteable lights, glittery stockings covering up the expanse of your legs. If you didn’t feel like a tumultuous wayward storm of emotions, you would have clicked a few pics and admired how hot you looked. You couldn’t do it today, not when Bucky was here, and he wasn’t yours, and it all felt like a fresh punch in the gut, all over again.

If he kept looking at you like that there was a good chance you would bolt. You had run away from him for so long, tried to hate him and forget about him for so long that you had forgotten about the comfort he exuded, the warmth he radiated. A part of you wanted to run again, just like you had been doing it, because you wouldn’t be able to deal with an imminent realization that you could never stop loving him.

*Don't call me that." Your voice was hoarse, heavier than the times you would yell the lyrics to a song and spin and saunter about the room trying to get moves right.

"Please," you didn't like the vein of desperation journeying under his fragile words, you didn't like how soft his eyes looked under the backstage lights.

"You're on in 10."

And just like that, you pried every fibre of your attention from him to the performance you would be presenting in seconds, to the art he had asked you to pursue over living happily with him.

You marched onstage, the ringing of the crowd and the honeyed twinkle crowning his pupil the only processible information in your brain as you swayed your hips and shoulders, body gliding into forms and heels clicking on the stage in the symphony, and for that once moment you could ignore everything else.

The performance was terrific. The effects, the fires, the jumps. The screams turned to roars as the formations built up, outfits shed and front liners swapped till it was etched forever in the forms of blurry reds and electric blues, your heart still beating out of your chest and ears ringing as you finally exit from the stairs to the side.

Maybe you guys had performed a little too well. Some choreographer turned businessman turned producer reached out to your crew and invited all of you to his rooftop bar for 'a night of fun'. Which meant you were out of your stage ensembles and sliding into another equally restraining one, one pair of heels traded for another. Your feet hurt and there was only so much for fake smiling, so you found yourself dug in a dark corner of the place, your eyes hurting a little from all the flashing lights, body dead tired.

Thank fuck you didn't have any more back-to-back performances and for the next two you were just going to be background dancers.

The drink in your hand blurred as your eyes drooped again, the need for a good night sleep overpowering your friends who were a little too energetic. You hated being the grinch, but sometimes you deserve your time to sulk.

You tossed back the contents of your glass, ordering for another. Maybe that would work to keep you awake for a moment, maybe you would pass out right here after the second drink. Either worked for you.

Wow. Weren't you being a damsel in distress? You didn't know the repercussions of a heartbreak from a lifetime ago struck so hard, but you couldn't be sure. Love and heartbreak just wasn't your craft.

For the moment, the alcohol prompted you to stagger to your feet, directing you towards the dance floor, despite your legs feeling like they had waltzed over a thorn bush. You made your way up, the last beats of some bass track fading against the grinding bodies before it mellowed down. Like some main character moment, the lights changed, the saturation dimming and the beats changed. The opening melodies of some piano track rolled out, your hair moving behind as you bared your neck, your hips moving in a honeyed curve as half of the people on the floor left, the others slipping into some form of couple dancing.

And you were dancing to a lover's track, all alone.

Till you were not.

The tips of Bucky's fingers hovered over your back, his other hand catching yours as he slid in front of you. Your eyes widened but your body melted like butter under his touch, a sense of familiarity washing over you in a way you hadn't felt in a very long time.

Fuck.

"What are you doing here, Bucky?"

He sighed, the shadows of his lashes falling prettily over his cheeks. He had changed out of his too-tight tee shirt to a formal shirt, reminding you of some disney prince as he swayed with you to the tunes of perfect.

"Dancing in the dark, with you between my arms." His deep voice had your heart fluttering, and you wanted to slap him for eliciting such a reaction from you.

"You think that is really going to work?" You asked tiredly, already done with this evening and craving a good night sleep.

"I don't. But I want to try."

"Why?"

"Because two years back was a mistake. Everyday without you was a mistake."

"Took you two years to figure it out?" You seethed, eyes flaring in annoyance at this guy for whom you weren't able to tear your love into shreds.

"You blocked me. Everywhere. You left your job, your apartment, were traveling god knows where. Steve wouldn't open his mouth even if I threatened to knock his teeth in."

"He's a good guy." You glared at him. "And why would you be threatening to knock his teeth in? You were the one to call things off."

"And I have been regretting that every single day ever since. I was scared. Terrified even. I thought the relationship wouldn't go anywhere. Not when we never saw each other."

"We could have figured out a schedule." You pointed out, stepping between his legs as the bridge of the song played.

"And sabotage our careers? Leave the chance to do something we had been dreaming of all our lives?"

He was right. You would have resented him everyday if that relationship had overshadowed your career. You knew this. He knew it too. You had taken up your chance the moment you had gotten out. So why the hell were you having this conversation? Why was Bucky regretting it? Why were you regretting it?

"And then what happened to you?" You asked, somehow gravitating closer to him.

"Got deals. Met people. Worked in pageants and fashion shows."

"I read up on you. You've made quite a name."

"So have you."

He twirled you around, pulling you right back into his arms. The sudden movement made you painfully aware of your heels cutting into your skin, and you winced.

"And now that you are stable, are you thinking we have a way to go back? Cause, fuck. No. We've changed. I don't want you."

Bucky frowned, slowly slithering to a halt before lowering his head till his forehead was hovering over yours.

"You still hate martinis. You still use your left hand to strap your heels in and you still prefer coloured chapstick over lipstick. You sure about it?"

"Don't go all classic rom com on me."

"You still hate rom coms too. And right now you would be cursing the life outta me because we are still dancing. Don't your feet hurt?"

"Why are you dancing with me then?" You looked away from him, not sure if you could carry on this conversation anymore.

"I'm hoping you would allow me to give you a massage. Take care of you."

You seethed. The blood in your veins burned. The entitlement had you tipping your head back in pure ire.

"James Buchanan Barnes you think you can fucking waltz back into my life and I'll let you into my room?" You panted, almost ripping yourself off of him but the arm wound around your waist held you to his chest. "With a half assed explanation for breaking my fucking heart?

"Shhh" Bucky cooed, his eyes sad and still so beautiful. You found yours welling up at the sincere lines of pain and anguish tearing through his irises, wondering if all of this was worth it.

He broke your heart.

"Not like that, Butterfly." You swallowed a lump at the nickname, scoffing halfhearted. "I want to take care of you. Make up for all the shit I have put you through"

"It doesn't happen that way."

"Let me try, then. Please."

And you found yourself giving in. Like sweetened butter, you melted and coursed right down his arms, just the way he wanted you too. If you weren't so tired you'd take a moment to marvel at the ease with which he could convince you, the power he held over you. You found yourself not giving a shit about it. Bucky leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, one which had you purring.

"Thank you."

"Don't get any hopes up," you snapped, the tone meant to deliver a sharp blow but the cracks at the edge of it had your resolve and patience crumpling, the night taking its toll on you. Your instinctive response to melt into Bucky's arms had a part of your brain screaming foul profanities at you, the bandaged, cracked shards of your heart screeching under the forceful binds you had assembled them into.

"You're not going to get to anything. Not that easily." You whispered against his chest, the familiar rumble of his chest thrumming through your head. "I'm not that doe eyed girl anymore. Now get a cab before I cry and look like a mess."

His eyes were beautiful as his tilted your cheek upwards, his lips pressing on yours in a feather light kiss, one leaving you charged and flared at the tips, reaching out for more. He just held your waist, deciding on keeping you close to his chest and you were grateful, the heels too much for you to handle.

"You look perfect tonight."

#perfect #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x poc!reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes writing #bucky filth #bucky fluff #dom!bucky barnes #dom!bucky #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #you x bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes au #marvel au #marvel #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan

[becca-e-barnes]

'Jesus Christ, behave.'

That's an instruction you were always going to ignore but it's even easier to ignore over text.

You follow up with another picture of yourself, your ass this time, barely hidden behind thin lilac lace.

'No. We can do anything you want, whenever you want to this week. Nothing is off limits.' It's thrilling texting him like this, knowing he's just across the room. His poker face is a hell of a lot better than yours but you're not sure it'll last the full week that he's staying with you. 'Just don't get caught.'

No one in this room full of people would ever suspect he's texting you, or that you're sending him some photos you'd taken just before the guests arrived.

'Really? I thought you'd enjoy putting on a show.' He texts back quickly, not looking up from his phone after the message is delivered.

You hadn't really thought about it until now and perhaps it isn't the very worst suggestion you've ever heard.

'Is that what you want? You want other people to watch me cum for you?'

'Fuck no.' You expected that answer but it still makes you laugh to yourself. 'Come upstairs in 5.'

You do as you're told, practically counting down the seconds until it's time for you to follow him up to the bathroom.

"Do you mean it? Anything I want?" Hearing him repeat your own filthy thoughts back to you makes it all feel very real.

The sound of his voice and the way he's looking at you has you uncomfortably aroused but there's nothing new there.

"Anything." You confirm, taking a deep breath when you feel his hand snake its way up your inner thigh, under your skirt. You know what he'll find at the apex of your thighs. You're warm and slick and needy already and you notice how he raises an eyebrow at you when his fingertips slip past the soaked lilac lace of your panties.

"You mean..." He taps your clit with his index finger and it almost feels like he's sending a shock around your entire body. "I can slide two fingers into you whenever I want?"

You look back up at him and nod, desperate for him to do just that.

"How about three?" He sounds so calm and you can't help but shudder. Three of his long fingers stuffed inside you sounds fucking magical.

"Yes." You pant, grinding yourself against his hand, hoping he'll be tempted to slip those fingers inside you.

"Or I could bend you over this sink? I'll make you watch your own pretty face in the mirror while I flood your tight little cunt with my cum. I know you'll take it like a good girl too. You promised me you would." His head is running away with him and that's exactly what you want. He comes up with the most wonderful suggestions sometimes.

"I'll be so proud of you, you know that?" One of his thick fingers slips into you, then another, curling against the front wall of your cunt and you can hear just how wet you are.

"Mhm, please." You groan, your forehead falling forward onto his chest. You need this more than you want tell him but his movements are measured so they only tease you.

"Soon, sweetheart. Later. Be a good girl and go back downstairs."

#becca's thots #becca writes spice #dbf!bucky #dad's best friend! bucky #dbf!bucky smut #pure filth lol #I bought my new bed this week though!! #my bed and my fridge were the two things I knew I'd be really picky about #I love the bed frame so much #it'll really fit in with the aesthetic I have in mind #It's gonna be so strange #I've had a single bed nearly my entire life #what am I gonna do with a king?? #that'll be so much space #it's all very exciting now

[buckgasms]

Ideas

Some things I know I wanna write and others I just fancy trying my hand at. As always, my inbox is open if there's anything that tickles your pickle.

Part 2 of 'Double the Fun'

Bucky x Reader x Nat

Mob!Boss Bucky x Little!Reader

- A day in the life of being mafia!Bucky's little princess 🎀

- Shopping trips????

- Romantic getaways?????

More Lumberbuck ofc

- Hide & Seek??

- Fluffy fireside something???

Innocence Kink 🫢

King/Prince Bucky

- Betrothed to Prince Bucky???

- Flirting in a garden or like a Mr Darcy vibe Bucky???? Love it

- Maaaaaybe a dark version of this????

- I like the idea of a Viking version of it too??

A/B/O

- this will be pure filth tbqhwy

Bucky & Aftercare 🎀

Pirate Bucky????

- Is it Dark or is it Nice? Could try both?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #fic ideas #ideas #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #bucky smut #i wanna write filth

[iloveprettyboysblog]

Evanstan ❤🤍💙

#chris evans #chris evans fluff #evanstan #ocean eyes #stucky smut #stucky #chris evans smut #christopher robert evans #sebastian stan smut #sebby stan #sebastain stan #captain america #steve rogers filth #steve rogers #stevebucky #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #they pretty #he's so pretty #pretty boys #he pretty #pretty #he looks so pretty

[jadedvibes]

Discovered bucky’s uniform pants didn’t have a zipper, but instead a button fly.

Unbutton those trousers soldier 💀

#these details aren’t necessary 🤡 #had him in a service cap but then realized military dudes don’t wear hats indoors and service uniforms are different than dress uniforms an #help I’ve gone down a rabbit hole #I just wanna finish writing this filth man #I know too much about this now #if you made it this far look out for a fic dropping in a few hours #jade speaks #rambles #bucky barnes

[harbingerofsoup]

i’ll actually be starting to gatekeep spider-man cause y’all mcu fans are driving me fucking insane

#spiderman #mcu #istg if i see one more person comment on the fight between him a bucky in cw #did y’all miss the proportional strength of a spider bit of his powers #and the politeness #oh the politeness #how could they make the king of disrespecting villains a pure child #he should be reading them to filth #then i look for fics #i exclude the tom holland movies #cause that’s my personal preference #but he’s still there #cause y’all act like he’s the default now #but he’s not! #he’s vastly different than classic spidey #so yeah #gatekeeping it is