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#bucky barnes imagine
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Naughty Girl » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: Bucky punishes you for sending him dirty texts while he’s at work.
Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty texts, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, male masturbation, unprotected sex, rough sex, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding kink, choking, degrading, handcuffs, sex toys, Bucky’s dog tags, name calling (slut, whore), aftercare, use of pet names
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any kind of mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found this one on Pinterest.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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Bucky pulled his phone out of his pocket when it vibrated. He smiles widely when he sees a text from you.
Doll🩷: I want you
Bucky: I’m in a meeting, doll
Bucky shut his phone off and continued to listen to the rest of the meeting. His phone vibrated again. He opened the message to see a picture of you completely naked with your legs spread in front of a full body mirror the two of you just bought, making his eyes go wide. Bucky shifted in his seat, feeling his cock get hard. He completely forgot he was in a meeting. His mind wandered elsewhere. Like how he was going to punish you when he gets home from work.
“You ok, Buck?” Steve asks.
“Uh huh, yea.” Bucky says, clearing his throat.
Bucky shut his phone off and put it back in his pocket. When the meeting was over, Bucky left the Avengers Compound and raced home, zooming through traffic on his motorcycle. Bucky slammed the door to yours and his apartment, walking straight to yours and his shared bedroom in search of you. He found you lying on the bed completely naked.
“Care to explain why you sent me a naked picture of yourself while I was in a meeting, babydoll?” Bucky asks, taking his jacket off and threw it somewhere in the bedroom.
“I was horny, daddy.” You answered. “I still am.” You say.
“Tell me, babydoll…” He approaches the bed. “Did you touch yourself?” He asks.
“Mhmm yes.” You hummed.
“How many times did you cum?” He asks.
“Two times.” You tell him.
Bucky licks his lips and sat down on the bed. He practically manhandled you to get you to lay across his lap.
“Since you decided to act like a slut when I wasn’t home, I’m going to treat you like one.” Bucky says.
His right hand rubbed across your ass cheeks before he landed a harsh smack on it, making you moan. He landed another smack on your ass that was harsher than the first one. Bucky spanked you eighteen more times. Your pussy was dripping by the time he was done spanking you. Your ass was red as a cherry with his hand print on it.
“Lay on your back.” He orders.
You listened and laid down on the bed, hissing when the sheets came in contact with your stinging skin on your ass. You watched as Bucky went in the closet and came out with a box. Your eyes widen. You know that box. It’s the box you and Bucky keep sex toys in. Bucky put the box on the nightstand and pulled a pair of handcuffs out of it.
“Arms above your head.” He instructs.
You put your arms above your head and Bucky handcuffed them to the bed frame. He tied your legs to the bed frame with silk ties. Bucky’s right hand disappeared between your legs, his fingers rubbing your pussy and spreading your wetness around. Your breath hitched in your throat when you seen him pick up a vibrator from the box. It’s the one that can make you cum in seconds. Bucky rubbed it in between your folds, covering it in your wetness before turning it on a low level and held it against your clit, making you squeak.
“Ah fuck, daddy!” You moaned.
Bucky loves watching you fall apart with the vibrator. You begging for him to fuck you with his fingers, tongue, or cock is like music to his ears. He watched intensely as your chest rose and fell, pants and moans of his name leaving your lips. His metal hand went to your breasts, giving one of them a squeeze before pinching your nipple. Bucky repeated the same actions on your other breast. Your pussy clenched around at the feeling. He turned the vibrator up to a higher setting causing you to moan loudly. His metal hand caressed your cheek, his metal thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. You parted your lips just enough for him to slide his thumb in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his thumb and sucked on it, your tongue swirling around it like it were his cock while holding eye contact with him. A growl left Bucky’s lips as he watched you. Bucky put the vibrator on the highest setting. You arched your back and threw your head back against the pillow in pleasure. Your orgasm was building up quickly. You were right on the edge. It felt like a tidal wave was about to come crashing down on you.
“Oh fuck…” You whimpered. “Can I- ah fuck! Can I please cum daddy?” You asked desperately.
“Cum.” Is all he says.
A loud moan left your lips as you came hard, soaking the sheets beneath you and the vibrator. Bucky nearly came in his pants at the sight of you squirting. He shut the vibrator off and put it on the nightstand, making you whine. That earned you a smack on your thigh.
“Quit your fucking whining or I’ll give you something to whine about.” Bucky says.
You watched with hungry eyes as Bucky stripped off his clothes. Your eyes immediately looked down at his cock, hard and leaking with precum.
“My eyes are up here, doll.” He says, snapping his fingers in your face.
Bucky got on the bed in between your spread legs. You looked at him as he wrapped his right hand around his cock. He thumb swiped over his tip, using his precum as a lubricant. You watched with hungry eyes as he began pumping his cock. You licked your lips, wanting nothing more than to suck his cock. You whined and tugged on the restraints, making Bucky chuckle.
“You did this to yourself, babydoll.” Bucky tells you. “You shouldn’t have been acting like a little whore. Now you have to watch daddy play with his cock.” He says.
“But daddy…” You whined.
“What did I say about whining?” He asks.
“Quit whining or you’ll give me something to whine about.” You answered.
Your eyes stayed glued to his cock as he began jerking himself off. Tingles went through your body when moans fell from his lips.
“You could be putting that pretty little mouth of yours to good use, but it’s too bad you can’t.” He says tauntingly.
Your breathing hitched in your throat as his hand moved faster. Your pussy was wet with slick as you watched his hand move up and down on his cock. Precum leaked down his cock. He used it as a lubricant. You were so focused on his cock that you didn’t even realize that you were drooling.
“Hungry for daddy’s cock, doll face?” Bucky asks.
“I’m always hungry for your fat cock, daddy.” You say.
“Too bad you’re not getting it yet.” He chuckles, making you pout.
You desperately wanted to rub your thighs together for some kind of relief, but you couldn’t, due to the restraints. Bucky looks so incredibly hot. His muscles flexed as pleasure took over his body.
“You look so hot, daddy.” You say, bitting your bottom lip.
“Yea?” He rasps, moving his hand faster.
“Mmm.” You hummed. “So fucking hot.” You say more in a moan.
“I know what you’re doing, doll and it’s not going to work.” He says.
You huffed and pouted as you continued to watch him jerk off. His hand lost rhyme due to his orgasm building up, but regained it.
“You want daddy’s cum, babydoll?” Bucky asks, panting.
“Yes please! Give me your cum, daddy!” You say a little too desperately.
Bucky chuckles at your desperateness. He moved closer to you. His hand moved faster on his cock. Soon enough, his cum landed on your stomach and chest. You moaned at the warm feeling of it. Bucky sat back on his knees to catch his breath for a moment.
“Can you uncuff and untie me now?” You asked, tugging on the restraints.
“No.” Bucky says.
“But I’ve been a good girl for you daddy.” You say with a pout.
“That’s true, but I’m not done with you yet, babydoll.” He says.
Bucky rubbed his hands on your inner thighs, dangerously close to your pussy. He rubbed his cock in between your wet folds, covering it in your slick before tapping his tip on your clit a few minutes, making your hips jolt up at the sensation. He lined his cock at your tight entrance and slid it inside of you in one hard thrust, making you gasp.
“God damn, you’re fucking tight.” Bucky groans, tilting his back a little.
He pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his tip inside of you before thrusting back inside of you hard. You tugged on the handcuffs and threw your head back in pleasure. Bucky’s hands grasped your hips tightly as he fucked into you. Loud moans and screams left your lips. It was like music to Bucky’s ears. Bucky’s eyes wandered your body, stopping at your breast and watched as they bounced every time he thrusted into you.
“Tell me again, babydoll…” Bucky starts. “Why did you send me that naughty picture of you while I was in a meeting?” He asks.
“I wanted you so fucking bad, daddy.” You say more in a whine.
“You’re getting me now, doll face.” He says, his voice a little deeper than normal.
His vibranium hand left your hip, placing it on the headboard above your head. His dog tags dangled in your face. You desperately wanted to grab the chain of his dog tags and give him a filthy kiss. Your eyes wandered further down his perfectly sculpted body, watching as his abs flexed every time he thrusted into you. The perfectly trimmed hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit, stimulating it.
“Checking out daddy?” Bucky smirks.
“Mmm.” You moaned.
Your lips parted, a loud moan leaving them when his cock hit your sweet spot. You arched your back in pleasure, tugging on the handcuffs and pressing your chest upwards towards his face. Bucky took the opportunity to mark up your breasts with hickeys. His mouth was occupied on your left breast while his right hand found its place on your left one, squeezing it and pinching your nipple. A gasp left your lips when his teeth grazed your nipple. A tingling sensation shot through your body and your cunt squeezed around his cock at the feeling. He repeated his actions on your other breast, getting the same reaction from you.
Bucky stopped thrusting and pulled out momentarily to untie your ankles from the bed frame. A squeak left your lips when he flipped you over onto your stomach, the chain of the handcuffs twisting. He lifted your hips, angling your ass towards him. He placed his metal hand on the top of your back and pushed the top of your body down against the bed, making you stick your ass out more. He nudged his thigh between yours to spread your legs apart. You moaned when his thigh came in contact with your wet cunt.
“You look so much better in this position.” Bucky says, his hands rubbing your red and sore ass cheeks and gave them a squeeze, the coolness of his vibranium hand soothed the stinging of your ass.
“But I want to look at you while you’re fucking me, daddy.” You say with a pout, looking over your shoulder to look at him.
“You shouldn’t have a naughty girl and sent me a dirty picture of yourself while I was at work.” He says.
Bucky lined his cock at your tight entrance. He circled his tip around your entrance to tease you, making you whine which earned you a smack on your ass.
“How many times do I have to tell you quit fucking whine?” Bucky asks.
“Sorry, daddy.” You mumbled.
Bucky thrusted his cock inside of you in a harsh thrust, making you gasp. His thrusts were more harder and faster than when you were in the first position. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips.
“You look so breedable like this.” He says, taking in the sight in front of him.
“Breed me, daddy.” You blurted out in a moan.
Him hearing those words come out of your mouth made him go feral. The image of you pregnant with his child is the only thing in his mind at the moment.
“I’ll fucking breed you real good, babydoll.” His voice lower than normal. “Everyone will know who you belong to when they see you pregnant with my child.” He says, almost a growl.
His thrust sped up. The sound of skin slapping and the smell of sex filled the bedroom. His cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly with each thrust. Your legs began trembling as your orgasm started to build up. It felt like a tidal wave was about to come crashing down on you.
“Can I- fuck! Can I please cum, daddy?” You asked, begging. “I’ve been a good girl.” You say.
“Cum for me, doll.” He says.
Bucky’s vibranium hand left your hip and reached around your front, blindly finding your clit and began rubbing it in fast circles. A loud moan left your lips as you came hard, your cum soaking your thighs and his cock. Bucky gave your clit a particularly rough run before focusing on his own orgasm which was coming fast. His thrust became sloppy before he regained his pace. A moan left Bucky’s lips as he came inside of you, painting your walls. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He slowly pulled out and sat back on his knees to catch his breath. His eyes watched as his cum dripped out of your pussy. His fingers on his right hand scoop it up and pushed it back inside of you. You moaned and squirmed at the feeling.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, doll face.” Bucky says, uncuffing your wrists that are now red.
“Don’t wanna move.” You mumbled with a pout.
“I’ll carry you.” He says softly.
Bucky picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bathroom. He ran you a warm bath and helped clean you up before cleaning himself up. When you two were done in the bath, he dried you off and carried you back to the bedroom and laid you down on the bed after giving you one of his shirts to wear to bed. He got in bed next to you and wrapped his arms around you protectively, pulling you closer to him.
“I love you, doll.” Bucky says softly, kissing the top of your head.
“I love you too, Bucky.” You say sleepily before falling asleep with your head on his chest.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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navybrat817 · 2 days
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Smartie: would you love me even if I were a gecko?
Stud: I would find a Witcher and make him turn me into a gecko and this would be us: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMVoXtHD/
BAHAHA. Nonnie, I burst out laughing watching this and reading the comments.
Like Animals
Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You ask Bucky an "important" question and he gives you a thorough answer. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Humor, fluff, implied explicit sexual content, inner monologue, TikTok video, pet names, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Apologies to geckos. A/N: Some Stud and Smartie for your Tuesday. Had to do it, @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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A smile pulled at your lips when you saw Bucky relaxed in his chair, engrossed in his newest book. Soot and Alpine cuddled up together nearby, both letting your man have some peace as he read. Naturally, it was the perfect time to interrupt him. Because you had a very important question for him.
One that would shape the future of your relationship.
He’ll understand why I bothered him.
“Hey, Stud?” You asked as you took a seat on the sofa, his steel eyes peering up from the pages to gaze at you. Your heart would always skip a beat from that look. “I have something very important to ask you.”
He put his bookmark in to give you his undivided attention. “What’s up? Is it about the wedding?”
“No,” you smiled. You were aware that some men didn’t care about wedding planning, but Bucky was. He wanted it to be the perfect day for you. “But the question is kind of related to love and our relationship.”
His brows furrowed when you didn’t elaborate. “Okay. What’s the question?”
You inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Would you still love me if I turned into an animal?”
Bucky blinked once. Twice. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile or laugh. “An animal? What kind of animal?”
You huffed when he didn’t immediately say “yes”. That should’ve been his answer. “I don’t know! A gecko! Yeah. A gecko.”
I have to keep a straight face.
Amusement sparkled in his eyes, but he still tried to remain as stoic as he could. “A gecko? Why a gecko?”
“Because geckos are cool!” You replied, close to bursting out laughing at the absurdity of the questioning and logic. But wasn’t part of the fun of having a partner being able to discuss stuff like this? “They can climb walls, can live a long time, they make great pets-”
“You wanna be my pet, Smartie?” Bucky asked, his voice dropping an octave.
Yes.
“You’re…” you sighed when he ran his tongue along his lips. He was a sexy bastard and you would soon call him your husband. “You’re distracting me. Answer the question, please.”
“So, that’s a yes,” he smirked, pushing his hair back and causing you to stare a bit again. “You’re asking me if you were a gecko, would I still love you?”
“Yes,” you said, rolling your eyes to try and play it off as something silly. Which it was. “Would you love me even if I were a gecko?”
Bucky set the book on the table before he moved from his chair to the couch. Your heart raced when he took your left hand and kissed over your engagement ring. “Smartie. Doll. Baby. Love of my life, of course, I would,” he said, your cheeks warm when he smiled at you. “In fact, I would find a Witcher and make him turn me into a gecko so we could be together properly.”
Right answer, Stud.
“You would?”
“I would,” he promised, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don’t want to exist in a world where we can’t be together.”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“I don’t either,” you whispered, your heart full. “And no matter what, human, gecko, anything, I’m your Smartie and you’re my Stud.”
You knew if tomorrow you woke up as some different version of you, he’d love you. If someone tried to separate you, he’d find a way to get you back. He was your soulmate. You had the whole world because of him.
“Damn right,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours before he pulled away. “Besides, if I ever found that Witcher, this would be us.”
…What?
“What would be us? I’m confused,” you said as he took out his phone and pulled up a video, cuddling close to you could both see the screen. “What is this?”
Bucky gently shushed you as he turned up the volume. “Just watch.”
You tilted your head as a rock came into view. “What are you showing me?” You questioned before your eyes went wide. Bucky’s arm over shoulders shook as he started chuckling. “Are those geckos fucking?!”
The decibel of your voice made the cats raise their heads, but they didn’t move since you weren’t in any sort of danger. “Yeah, they are,” your fiancé laughed. “Geckos in their semi-natural habitat.”
This wasn’t on my BINGO card for the year.
“Why do you have this?!” You asked, turning to look at him. “Wait, when did you start using TikTok?! Is this on your FYP? Is this a new kink you haven’t told me about? Because that’s a whole other conversation.”
He threw his head back and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. “You’re missing it.”
“Yeah, because gecko porn was the thing I was missing in my life. Everything makes sense now,” you teased, gesturing to the screen. “And, by the way, that’ll never be us.”
Bucky’s laughter came up short and, for a moment, sadness flickered in his eyes. “I thought you said we’d be together if we were geckos.”
“We would be,” you assured him, seeing happiness all over his face once again. “But look. He’s doing all the work and she looks bored as hell. That’s not me and that’s not our sex life.”
“So, I fuck you better?” He teased you.
Duh.
Whatever kind of sex you had before you met Bucky didn’t even count to you. He ruined you so thoroughly that you didn’t even remember the first guy you kissed. It was as if he erased all other guys from your mind.
Love was a powerful thing and Bucky had it in abundance.
“Yes, so much better. I mean, come on, she looks like she’s thinking, ‘Did I leave the stove on?’”
The brunette burst out laughing all over again.
I love that sound.
“Seriously! I would never just be still like that and you know it. There’s a difference between being a pillow princess and a dead fish,” You smiled, cuddling closer so you could feel his chest rumble beneath your hand. “And just for making me look at that, I want you to try and keep a straight face the next time we have sex.”
“What? That’s not fair,” he groaned, making you shriek when he suddenly laid you out on the sofa, his phone forgotten. “I can’t keep a straight face when I’m inside you. Your pussy feels too good for that.”
He always looks gorgeous when he slides into me.
“So does your cock. I don’t think I could look bored if I tried,” you agreed, raising an eyebrow when he moved on top of you. “But seriously, how is it that you just happened to have that video when I asked about us being geckos? You didn’t know I was going to ask you that.”
He grasped your chin to give you a thorough kiss, the kind that drove every sane thought from your mind. “I guess the two of us are just in sync,” he said.
“I guess we are,” you smiled. “But no more gecko porn today, okay?”
“Okay,” he smirked down at you. “But I will fuck you like an animal.”
True to his word, that was exactly what he did.
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Oh, I adore them. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 2 days
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2: UNWELCOME DISTANCE
Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter
Dinner with Bucky didn't go as well as you planned and now you're suffering from the outcome of being ditched in an autumn thunderstorm.
Word count: 3.2k
Warning: feelings of betrayal, shitty communications skills, illness (upper respiratory tract infection) description, Coney Island and cotton candy, jealousy, Bucky... Barnes is a warning
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The following morning, you woke up feeling a little worse for wear. You buried your face in your pillow willing the tickle in your throat and at the back of your nose to disappear. A small groan left your lips as your attempt to sleep in was thwarted by the aching throughout your body. Sitting up did little to make you feel better, other than shifting the balance of mucus in your sinuses, making you sneeze and worsening the scratchiness of your throat. You looked up at the clock, you’d missed the breakfast time that you were expected to attend, but there weren’t any messages on your phone expressing concern from your friends.
A throb of self pity and doubt flashed through your mind. Did any of them even care? You had lost Bucky to another woman, but clearly none of your other friends had noticed your absence. You weren’t special, you’d only been invited to join the Avengers Initiative because of your powers. The thoughts were just forming, your mind ready to spiral into a storm of insecurity, when there was a knock at your door. Each movement felt like wading through molasses, and even sitting up seemed like an insurmountable task.
"Cricket?" Steve’s voice permeated into the room.
"Coming!" At least that was what you tried to say, your voice coming out as a small croak. You padded over to the door barefoot and opened the door to find Steve’s kind face looking down at you.
His concern was etched across his features as he took in your disheveled appearance. Dark circles clung to your eyes, and your skin had lost its usual healthy hue.
"Hey there, sunshine," he greeted, his voice gentle. "How’re you feeling?"
There was only one word that would succinctly sum up your emotional and physical state in that moment. "Shit," you mumbled, sniffing at the fluid that was threatening to leak from your nose.
He reached out, his hand cool against your feverish skin. His touch was comforting, grounding you in the midst of your misery. "You definitely have a fever," he confirmed.
As if to affirm his observation, your body pitched forwards in a violent sneeze, which you barely had the time to catch with the inside of your elbow. You ended the outburst with a pained groan, as the back of your throat burned.
Steve’s concern deepened. "You need rest," he said firmly, steering you back into bed. "I’ll make you some tea."
You followed his instructions without protest, not having the energy to argue. It would be best for you to stay in bed, you’d get better quicker with rest, and it was a great excuse to avoid seeing your best friend and his girlfriend. The practical side of you would use the excuse that you didn’t want to expose anyone to your germs. At least Steve would be protected by the serum, so you didn’t need to worry about him hanging around. So with a clear conscience, you snuggled back under your covers to wait for Steve’s return.
As he disappeared towards the kitchen, you sank back into your pillows. Maybe losing Bucky wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe having a friend like Steve was enough—a warm presence in the midst of your feverish chaos. And as the wind whistled outside, you realized that sometimes, friendship was the best medicine of all.
Little did you know that on his way to the kitchen, Steve ran into Bucky as he was leaving your room.
"Steve?" Bucky called after his friend.
"Hey, Buck."
"What’re you doing?" The real question he wanted to ask was ‘why are you leaving Cricket’s room?’.
"Just grabbing some things for Cricket. She isn’t feeling very well."
"What?" Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. "She was fine yesterday!"
"Well if you hadn’t left her alone to get drenched in that storm, she probably wouldn’t be so miserable." Steve hadn’t meant to be so harsh with his words, but you had interrupted his beauty sleep the previous night and he was feeling rather disgruntled.
"What’re you trying to say, Steve?
"You shouldn’t have left it so long to tell her." Steve was referring to Priya and how long he'd kept his relationship with her private.
"That’s my decision, Steve." Bucky countered, defensively.
"I know. But maybe you should think about why you were so ready to tell me, but not Cricket."
Bucky clicked his tongue against the roof of mouth, dismissing Steve's comments. "I'm gonna go and see her."
Steve thought about objecting, but decided against it, opting to fetch the things he had promised you.
Bucky’s footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway, each one a heavy reminder of his own recklessness. The storm had raged outside, rain pelting against the window panes like a thousand tiny fists. But he hadn’t been there to shield you from it. Instead, he’d left you alone, vulnerable, and now guilt gnawed at him like a persistent rat.
Your room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn shut against the gray morning. Bucky hesitated at the threshold, his knuckles grazing the wooden doorframe. He’d never been good with words, especially when it came to matters of the heart. But he had to try.
"Cricket?" His voice was soft, almost tentative. He stepped inside, the floorboards creaking under his weight. There you were, cocooned in blankets, your face pale against the pillows. The storm had taken its toll on you, and he cursed himself for not being there.
You stirred, eyelashes fluttering open. "Bucky?" Your voice was a whisper, fragile like a spider’s silk. "What’re you doing here?"
He crossed the room in two strides, perching on the edge of your bed. "I… I heard you weren’t feeling well." His fingers brushed against your forehead, checking for fever. "Steve told me."
You managed a weak smile. "Steve’s a tattletale."
"He cares about you," Bucky said gruffly. "We both do."
"I feel bad for dragging him out of bed last night."
"Cricket, why didn't you tell me you didn't have any way to get back home. I would have brought a car instead of my bike."
You shrugged, “I didn’t think I had to.”
He had been so caught up in his plans to introduce you to Priya that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that you might need a ride home. He had assumed you would find your own way, and he was just starting to realize how selfish that had been. He should have been more attentive, more caring. He laid a hand on your arm, “I’m sorry, Cricket. I should have been more thoughtful. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“Cricket, please, let me make it up to you. I was looking for you this morning. I made your favorite pancakes," Bucky continued. "Thought you could come and have breakfast with me and Priya, before I take her home."
"Sorry," you shrugged, hating this conversation more and more. Why was Steve taking so long to return?
"I was going to spend the day with her, but if you want, I can come back and we can watch some movies."
"Don't cancel your plans on my account." You rolled over, facing away from Bucky.
Your behavior stung, but he couldn't blame you for being angry. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. "I’m sorry," he whispered. "For leaving you out there."
"See you later," you mumbled and Bucky knew he had been dismissed. 
Bucky couldn't shake the guilt that weighed heavily on his chest as he walked away. He had always been a good friend, someone who looked out for others and made sure they were taken care of. But in his excitement to introduce you to Priya, he had neglected to consider your needs.
As he walked away, Bucky couldn't stop replaying the conversation in his head. He had let you down, and he wanted to make things right.
Steve appeared a few moments after his departure, his arms laden with homely remedies and a bowl of soup which smelled incredible. Your stomach rumbled hungrily in response, making you blush.
"Here, take this first," Steve shoved a bottle of DayQuil under your nose.
Begrudgingly, you accepted the painkiller gratefully and then proceeded to slurp up the soup. "This is delicious," you hummed in approval.
"Hey, when you're feeling a bit better, I was thinking I could take you out somewhere… cheer you up a little." Steve stuttered towards the end as he saw surprise on your face. 
You swallowed your mouthful of soup before cracking a smile. “Steve, I'd like that.”
Steve smiled back at you. But suddenly, he reached out, grabbing the bowI in your hands, having noticed the slight hitch in your breath. A sneeze rocked your body forcefully and you groaned.
“Thanks,” you accepted the bowl back from Steve.
"No problem. Don't want to make a mess."
“No,” you sighed, finishing the soup in a sad silence.
“Want me to stay?”
“No, it's okay. I'm just going to go back to sleep.”
Steve took the empty dishes and kissed your forehead, glad that it didn't feel as warm as it had earlier. “Feel better, champ.”
You sure hoped you would.
*
A few days later, you were back in fighting form. But much to Bucky's chagrin, he could never seem to catch your attention for more than a passing nod or wave. He wanted to make things right with you. He missed you, he wasn’t used to being so close to you but not being able to talk to you properly. He had the sneaking suspicion that your distance might not just be ill-timed schedules. Were you avoiding him? He wondered if you were still angry at him for not giving you a ride back home after your dinner with Priya. A feeling of melancholy settled over him as he speculated on all the things he could have done that made you take a step away from him. Every reason under the sun spiraled through Bucky’s mind except the real reason for your withdrawal.
Bucky had hoped that meeting someone else, someone who was interested in him would help him push away the feelings he had for you. Closure. That’s what they called it in the movies these days. But this didn’t seem like it was going quite the way he had anticipated. In fact, rather than feeling happier, he felt more tortured than he had before. Maybe going out with Priya would take his mind off things, so he decided to give her a call and schedule a date, she had a way of soothing his turbulent thoughts. Not as well as you did, no one understood him quite like you did.
*
Steve was true to his word, and had whipped up a surprise plan for the two of you to spend the day together. He had chosen a Wednesday, explaining that it was a good time as the place would be less busy. He made sure you had dressed warmly, in spite of the sunny weather. 
"Don’t want you getting ill again," he smiled as you got into the car with him.
"Is that why we’re not taking the bike?"
Steve shook his head, knowing how much you loved riding motorcycles.
"So where are you taking me?" you asked. You’d been trying to get Steve to tell you for the last few days, but the tight lipped Captain had resisted all your wily techniques at information extraction.
"Coney Island."
"Ohh!" you exclaimed. "I haven’t been there for years!" You laughed before a thought popped into your head, a memory. "Are you sure you want to go there, Steve?"
"Why wouldn’t I want to go to Coney Island?"
"Well, I heard about… the… Cyclone Incident."
Steve blushed. "Bucky telling everyone that story, huh?"
"Afraid so." Your smile was soured slightly by the shadow casted by Bucky’s name and you turned to stare out of the window, letting Steve drive in silence.
Steve shook his head. He wanted nothing more than for both his best friends to be happy, and for the two of you to be happy together was the ultimate goal. He hoped that one day both of you would come to your senses, but until then, he would do his best to support you both.
The weather turned out to be fine and you had shed your top layer before even leaving the car.
"Oh come on! Stop being such a dad! We can always come back to the car if it gets chilly!" you responded to Steve’s disapproval.
"Come on then!"
It was a beautiful day filled with laughter and joy between you and Steve. He was glued to your side, treating you to all the rides, indulging you when you wanted to ride the Cyclone repeatedly. Every time you got to the end of the ride, you’d turn to him and make sure he wouldn’t spill his guts. Steve rolled his eyes dramatically as you laughed hysterically.
"What next?" Steve asked. "And don’t tell me we’re doing that again."
"Come on, the girl letting people in definitely has a crush on you! Why do you think we got on for free the last two times?"
Steve grabbed your wrist, "Come on!" He led you away from the rides, over to a cotton candy kiosk, dropping a few notes into the vendor's hand and selecting two cones. You took the liberty of grabbing the blue one from his hand and tucking into it before he had the chance to object.
"Bet I can eat this faster than you can!" Steve suggested slyly.
"Oh, bring it, Rogers!" You tore the stick out of the candy cloud and scrunched it up into a tiny ball, sticking it in your mouth and letting the sugar dissolve on its own.
Steve, who had taken several large bites, looked up in confusion and awe. He eyed your empty hands, then put his finger on your bottom lip, pushing it down and peering into your mouth. 
You indulged his disbelief, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. "See, all gone! I win!" you smile with glee.
"Wow!"
"You forget, I was the youngest of five! I had to learn to eat fast or I’d lose out." 
Steve chortled quietly at your story. "Fine, what do you want as your prize?" He waved around at all the game stalls, letting you pick your prize.
You gazed around, contemplating your options when you spotted a giant stuffed wolf. "That one!"
Steve was true to his word and threw every bean bag with perfect aim and you pointed at a white plushie which looked a little different to the others. 
"Why don’t you take this one?" the vendor tried to shove a dark gray wolf into your arms, but you declined.
"No thank you, I’d like that one please." You selected one which had been stuffed on a high shelf, away from the others of its kind.
"Honey, this one’s going in the garbage, look at him, white body with one gray leg. It’s a defective product, they made a mistake in the factory. Happens from time to time."
But you were adamant, you wanted the white wolf with the transplanted leg.
"Whatever you want, miss." The vendor handed you the soft toy, which you hugged to your chest. There was something about him that you wanted to keep safe.
Unbeknownst to you, you had been spotted by someone unexpected. Bucky had had a similar thought to Steve, he had brought Priya to the ‘island’ on a quiet weekday for some harmless fun.
"Jamie, look!" Priya tugged at his sleeve. "Isn't that Cricket and Steve?"
Bucky's head whipped around so fast, he almost had empathy for whiplash sufferers. He frowned, eye searching the crowd in the direction of Priya’s outstretched hand. He couldn't believe that you would come here with Steve. He had often suggested a trip to Coney Island to you, but you'd never managed to make the time for it. So seeing you here with Steve made his insides burn with jealousy. Another part of him, his guilt-ridden conscience told him that he didn't deserve you. Naturally, you'd choose the classical hero, Steve. He was the golden boy, even when they'd been kids, Steve was the trouble maker, but somehow Bucky was the one his parents mistrusted. 
"Yeah," he grumbled.
"Let's go over and say hi!"
"I'm sure they don't want us to interrupt them." Bucky vetoed the suggestion with a sulky expression.
"Fair, I mean I wouldn't want anyone interrupting our date either." Priya smiled, taking Bucky's hand, leading him away. Bucky stole one last glance at his two best friends, a deep ache settling inside him as Priya dragged him away from you. 
*
Over the next week, you and Bucky drifted through the compound, both longing for the other but not quite able to find it within yourselves to seek the other out. For you, it was a simple matter of avoidance. You'd made the mistake of touching the flame and now you suffered the burn. But for Bucky it was different. He couldn't understand your absence and he knew nothing of your pain.
He could feel the frustration building up inside him, until one day he caught you returning to your room. And every one of his thoughts and accusations came pouring out.
"What is it? Why’re you upset with me?" Bucky demanded.
"I’m not upset… it’s not- I’m hurt. You hurt me. It’s not that you did something wrong. In fact you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just that I thought you’d share something big, like dating, with me. But you kept it secret. For four months! I thought we told each other everything. I … I just expected-" you shrugged. "And that’s the problem here. My expectations were wrong, and I’m ashamed. But you didn’t do anything wrong. You have nothing to apologize for. But somehow I feel like I’m going to lose you."
"You’ll never lose me, Cricket."
"But Buck, I already have. Like she said… she’s your best friend now." Bucky opened his mouth to interrupt, but you put your hand out to stop him talking. "I just need some time to deal with that. Is that okay?"
"I didn’t mean to hurt you," he mumbled. The sincerity evident in his tone and face.
"I know, Buck," you sighed. "I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. Please, I want you to be happy. I’m happy for you."
"Please, let me make this up to you." Bucky grabbed your wrist, desperately.
"You can do that by making sure you take care of yourself. I’m always going to be with you, on missions and stuff, partner," you patted his upper arm. "I just think that our friendship’s going to change a little… and I just need some time to get used to that."
"Is this because of Steve?"
"Steve?" you repeated after him, feeling confused by the change in topic. "What does Steve have to do with this?"
"Are you together?"
"What? No! Bucky, why would you think that?"
"I just…" He shrugged, not quite able to bring up seeing you at Coney Island, or the moment of closeness you had had with Steve the night he had introduced you to Priya.
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anonymityisfunwriter · 10 hours
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Every Part of You
Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader A.N. - Alright, I've been asked to write about Bucky and Sunshine's first time many, many times. And the thing is, like sure, I could write that, but also I want us to take a moment to consider trying to build up to that. There's so many firsts buried in there that I think need to be navigated through before they even get there. This is one of those firsts. Like the first time you see Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series
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"You're just- " You stop speaking, searching for his lips again. Though you're breathless, you can't bring yourself to pull away from him, "You're so pretty."
You shudder as you feel his hand slip under your sweater. The occasional graze of the cool metal on your skin enough to send shivers down your spine.
His lips trail down, nipping at your jaw, "I'm not pretty."
Your hands, winded in the hair at the nape of his neck, glide down his neck, to clutch the fabric of his henley. The moment he feels your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, his heart hammers against his ribcage. Not in the sort of way that he usually feels in these moments with you. He feels a sense of dread, of panic. It wraps around his spine like a python. It feels like he can't breathe.
"You're so -"
He wrenches away from you, his chest heaving, "Stop, stop, stop."
You freeze, immediately dropping your hands. Panic starts creeping up your throat, coating your words. "Did I - did I do something wrong?"
He gulps, silently shaking his head. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, to regain the ability to speak clearly, "No, no, you're - you're perfect."
Guilt starts to eat at him. He can see you doing your very best to keep your own feelings off your face. He can see the sting of his rejection in the way your lips press together in a tight line. The embarrassment in the pallor of your once flushed cheeks.
You two have worked so hard to overcome your own personal issues and traumas, to build trust in each other, moments like these hadn't come easy. And he so callously pushed you away, it makes him feel worse. And what makes his heart ache even more, he sees nothing but concern for him shining in your eyes. You just look so worried for him.
Your hands rest in your lap. You twist and untwist your fingers. "If you don't want to, we don't - we don't have to do anything. I'm really sorry -"
"No, no, please don't be sorry." He reaches for you, gently squeezing your hand. It soothes him as much as it does you. "I want to. You don't know how much I want to."
"But?"
His eyes squeeze shut. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes. "You haven't seen it before - my arm, my shoulder."
"Oh."
He drops your hand. That feeling takes over him again. It feels like there's not enough air in the room. He slides away from you, closer to the edge of the tiny couch in your apartment. "It's - I am not pretty."
It breaks your heart, watching him pull away from you. You can only imagine how many people have turned away from him before. "James..."
He fervently shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes, "No, no, I know what you're gonna say, but it's bad. A lot worse than you're thinking."
"How do you know what I'm thinking?"
"It's bad," he insists. "I see it every day and I can barely - it's just bad, okay?"
You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want me to see it. I understand."
He finally opens his eyes again as his eyebrows pull together. He still doesn't meet your eye. "No, no, I want to - I trust you with this, I do. I just - I want you to be prepared."
In that moment, you realize that it's not really about preparing you. Not at all.
He thinks you're going to react badly. He thinks that this will make you turn away from him for the first time ever. He's worried that the love and adoration in your eyes will turn to disgust and repulsion.
It's less about preparing you for the scarred flesh, and more about warning you that he couldn't take a bad reaction. He's not sure he could take it if you turned away from him too.
"I love you," you promise him. "There's nothing that you could show me that would change that. I hope you know that."
There is no response to that. And you know that he won't believe it until he sees it. It takes him a moment. His hand toys with the hem of his shirt. His hand grips the hem, only to let it go.
"I love you," you remind him.
He takes a large gulp of air, pulling off his shirt with one quick movement.
You weren't really sure what you were expecting. You knew the story. You knew how Bucky lost his arm. He even confided the bits and pieces he remembered from getting his vibranium arm.
Your eyes trail over his skin. The shoulder is scarred, scars jut in every direction. Each scar is etched into his skin. It's clear it was a painful, violent experience for him. The metal plate protrudes from the scar tissue in a way that you're sure was painful when first placed. You look on with curiosity, you're not really sure how this, a sign of survival, a badge of resilience, could ever make anyone turn away from him.
He's as breathtaking as you could ever imagine.
Your eyes flicker up at him. He looks at the blank wall of your apartment, scared to watch your facial expressions as you take it in. "Can I?"
He nods, barely able to look you in the eyes. He sucks in a breath when your fingers make contact with the scar tissue surrounding the metal plate.
You immediately pull your fingers back, worried you've accidentally hurt him. "Does it hurt?"
"No," he answers reflexively.
You know he's lying. "I've seen you holding your shoulder before - holding it like it hurts."
"Sometimes," he amends. "The doctor said there's a lot of nerve damage. Things they can't fix."
"Does it hurt now?"
"No."
You run your hand over the plate, over his scars, down to his shoulder blade.
"Still think I'm pretty?" he sarcastically remarks.
You press a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'll always think you're pretty. Every part of you."
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
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spidey-webz · 2 days
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Hi ☺️
Can you write a fanfic where reader/Bucky (you can choose) is sick and the other takes care of them .
Thank you
In good times and bad | B. Barnes
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Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you're sick.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
Content warnings: reader being sick with the flu, bucky being the bestest boyfriend, reader has a fever, itchy throat and feels quite wobbly
Words: 1.4k
A/N: thank you for requesting this! i know bucky loves to take care of you any day!
Masterlist | Ask
The scratchy feeling in your throat just didn’t want to go away. You were on your third cup of tea for the day and you started to feel increasingly more tired. Your head was starting to hurt and all you wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep.
However, you still had a huge pile of work lined up on your desk and your boss would probably complain about you once again if you didn’t finish everything by the end of the week. The light of your laptop screen was hurting your eyes and you instinctively rubbed over your temple with two fingers. 
Just a little more and you could go into bed, finally able to get some rest-
“Are you alright, doll?” 
Bucky’s deep voice echoed over to you and when you looked up from your desk, you could see your boyfriend leaning in the doorframe to your office. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes radiated concern. 
“Just tired,” you insisted, gaze returning to the work at hand. The sound of Bucky’s footsteps filled the room soon after as he crouched down next to your chair and placed a big hand on your thigh. 
“I can tell you’re not feeling well. Don’t you want to take a little break? I can make you-“ He stopped when he noticed the cup on your desk. “I can run you a hot bath or make you some warm soup,” he suggested instead, seeing that you were already well-supplied with tea. 
His free hand moved up to your forehead and he shook his head right after. “You’re having a fever, sweetheart.” 
There was never a point in lying to Bucky when it came to your well-being. He would always find out sooner or later and… he would always look after you.
“You know how my boss is though if I don’t finish this…” you insisted, pointing to the documents on your desk and your laptop. Bucky wasn’t up for discussion though and pushed himself back to his feet, his hand closing the laptop slowly but surely.
“I get it. But you need to take a break and get healthy first. Let me bring you to bed, alright?” His voice wasn’t demanding, but rather soft. You grabbed his hand when he held it out for you, his calloused fingers closing around yours. Your legs felt even more wobbly when Bucky helped you out of the chair a second later. His eyebrows furrowed with concern and he let his hand rest on the small of your back as he helped you back to your shared bedroom. Even if you weren’t sick enough to lose consciousness, he still didn’t want to take any risks. And he certainly didn’t want you hurting yourself by bumping into the doorframe or the corner of the desk. 
“Thank you,” you mumbled when you reached your bed eventually. Bucky shook his head dismissively. “This is nothing you have to thank me for.”
While you were getting settled on the bed, Bucky disappeared for a short moment, coming back with an extra blanket from the living room. “We have to keep you warm,” he insisted, but quickly shook his head when he realised that you were still wearing your jeans. “Let’s get you out of those clothes first, don’t you think?” He suggested and you gave him a small nod. 
You opened your jeans first and Bucky helped you pull them down your legs, handing you sweatpants a second later. His sweatpants. One of his sweaters followed soon after and you were happy to get comfortable in it. It was bigger than your own, but also warmer and you could still faintly smell Bucky’s scent all over it. Your nose was getting increasingly more stuffed though, so you doubted you would be able to enjoy it for long. 
Your boyfriend helped you get comfortable under the blanket, making sure to tuck you in properly. Bucky even planted a small kiss on your forehead. “Do you want to eat something, doll? My mum always made chicken soup when I was sick.” It filled your chest with warmth to think about a young Bucky, untouched by the horrors of his adult life, that just enjoyed his mother’s soup when he was sick. The offer was too good to turn down. “I would love that,” you smiled softly and pulled the blanket a little higher. 
A few minutes later, you already drifted off into a light sleep. Bucky woke you up again when he was done cooking, gently brushing your hair back with his metal hand. The vibranium felt cool against your warm forehead and you were close to asking your boyfriend if he could just keep his hand there. “You need to eat something,” he insisted with a soft voice, helping you sit up against the headboard. 
He handed you the bowl of soup and a spoon, as well as an extra tea towel if you needed it. Bucky sat down next to you on his side of the bed, rummaging through the little basket in which you kept all kinds of medicine. “I’m trying to figure out what to give you first…” he mumbled, showing you the pain killers and some medicine against the fever. 
It was simply adorable how much he was caring for you. He could have just brought you to bed and left it at that, but you knew your boyfriend wanted to make sure you’d be back on your feet as quickly as possible. “Just let me take the pain killers first,” you smiled, taking the first sip of the soup. It tasted really good. Bucky was more talented in the kitchen than you could have ever imagined and homemade dishes like this seemed to warm your body as well as your heart. 
Bucky handed you a glass of water and let you take one of the pills, before you went back to eating. “How about I run you a bath later? Unless you want to sleep some more. I wouldn’t have woken you up if the soup-”
You interrupted Bucky with a small laugh. “Thank you, Buck. I’ll happily take the bath and it’s good you woke me up. I love this soup,” you assured him. Your boyfriend chuckled softly, leaning forward to press another kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad. We could watch a movie before you take a bath? Maybe instead of another cup of tea, I can also make a cup of hot chocolate.” 
How did you deserve a boyfriend like this? “Whatever you want more, Buck.” You didn’t this to be all about you even if you were the sick one at the moment. “Mhm, then let’s go with some hot chocolate and a good movie. I heard there is a new rom-com out on Netflix.”
You had introduced Bucky to rom-coms throughout your relationship and they had grown on him quite quickly. By now, they were your favourite kind of movies to watch together when it was just the two of you. “I don’t want you to get sick too if you keep kissing me,” you pointed out, moving the spoon around in the bowl of soup. It wouldn’t be nice if the both of you would get sick at the same time. 
Bucky didn’t seem to mind even a little though as he slipped under the blanket with you and wrapped his flesh arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. He always wanted to keep you safe and sound. “Don’t you worry about that, doll. I will be fine. Don’t get sick too often, you know?”
You and Bucky were trying to keep life as normal as possible for the both of you. You sometimes forgot about his super soldier powers and how they changed his immune system as well. “But don’t you complain if you’re bedridden next week,” you insisted, glancing up to your boyfriend. 
He gave you another soft smile, pressing a soft kiss onto the tip of your nose. “I know you’ll take good care of me if I get sick myself.”
“You’re right. But I can’t replicate this chicken soup,” you grinned, turning your head when Bucky turned on the TV and started to look for a movie to watch. 
It was nice being pampered and cared for when you were sick. Especially if it meant more time spent cuddling with your boyfriend. 
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The Bolter (part five)
Steve Rogers x f!reader / (Bucky Barnes x f!reader)
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synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?
in this chapter : In present day, the reader and Bucky get closer - will one of them finally slip up? We also see what happened in 2018, during the battle in Wakanda.
themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, Bucky dealing with ptsd, brief mention of violence, language
word count : <2k
masterlist ▪︎ previous chapter
📝 a little bit of an explanation on the timeline : 2016 - Civil War ▪︎ 2017 - post Civil War / Steve and reader on the run ▪︎ early 2018 - Infinity War ▪︎ 2018 to 2023 - the lost years / post-snap ▪︎ late 2023 - Endgame / Steve's departure ▪︎ 2024 - present day / Falcon and the Winter Soldier period ▪︎ 1950s - where Steve went back
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2024, seven months after Steve's departure
You win. Again.
By now, you're convinced Bucky is actually letting you win in Battleship. Each guess he made had been wrong, so it must be deliberate.
"James Buchanan Barnes," you sigh.
His lips form a sly smirk. He isn't even trying to deny it.
You reach across and lightly shove his non-vibranium arm. "It's no fun if there's no challenge."
He shrugs, "Maybe I like the way you react when you win. You get so... expressive." Another smirk. Damn him.
What could possibly be so amusing about the way you practically screeched and stuck your tongue at him the first time you won?
"Yeah, but you let me win four times in a row."
"Deal with it, doll."
"You suck."
He grimaces, "Suck?"
Right. You keep forgetting he is an very old, very ancient centenarian.
"It's an expression."
Something flashes across his face, and you can't really make out what it is. "Do you suck, too?"
"What?" you exclaim. "I just said it's an expression. It means you're annoying."
He holds your gaze for a moment, before laughing, eyes visibly crinkling at the corners. "I'm messing with you, doll. I know what that means. I'm old, not unaware."
Damn him again.
And damn the way the rare instances of his laughter is slowly growing to be a thing you yearn for. Bucky has a playful side, you've come to realize. You get this feeling of lightness, because you're proud of him. The more it comes out, the more it shows how much he has healed.
You blink at him, shaking your head, before bursting into laughter yourself.
Damn it all to hell.
It takes a beat for you to collect yourselves.
Then for a second, it's there. That fleeting shift in his expression. A pinch in his eyebrows giving way to a look of shame. Just for a moment, his mind drifts back to the long list of names in his notebook. To Yori's son. To the crimson in his ledger.
You notice, and you don't hesitate in taking his hand, squeezing gently. "Hey," you say, catching his attention. "I'm glad we get to do this."
I'm glad I have you.
Glancing down at your hand wrapped around his, he smiles, slowly, like a sun rising and casting its glow over the horizon.
"Let's play one more time," Bucky says as he begins rearranging the pieces on his side.
You were about to protest, but then he adds, "I won't let you win, I swear."
Fifteen minutes later, you do indeed win again. He laughs at the incredulous expression that must be plastered on your face.
You take it. Because maybe you did win, fair and square.
Or maybe because his laughter feels like winning.
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The days have blurred into weeks and into months.
It feels like time is passing quickly, every second feels less and less like the lash of a whip, reminding Bucky of past pains. Of loss. Of all his sins.
Life almost feels normal. The kind of normal he is afforded in his life, at least.
Sessions with his court-mandated therapist. You. Dinners with Yori, desperately unable to tell him the truth. You. Sleepless nights, glimpses of his darkness haunting him. You. Sleepless nights, tempting images of you.
Behind all the laughter and the times you would spend playing Battleship on the floor of his barely furnished apartment, Bucky gets a sense of something gnawing at him. Something not unfamiliar, but unwelcome all the while.
It's fear. He has something to lose, once more. A friend or a kindred spirit. Whatever else you will find in each other. It's there and it's real, and it makes him feel like Bucky again.
He doesn't want to lose it, whatever it is. He's already lost Steve.
He's not going to lose you too.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
early 2018, Infinity War
After you and Steve left the cabin, it's like the universe was sent a go-ahead signal of some sort.
The world slowly descended into chaos, and the Avengers were needed back into the fold.
Your group had to rush to Scotland to rescue Wanda and Vision. Then it was back to the Avengers compound.
"You think all is forgiven?" Senator Ross asked, the threat evident in his tone. "You think you can just walk back in here like nothing happened? Romanoff has been leading my team on some wild goose chase - "
Natasha merely scoffs, unamused.
" - and Huntress has been actively aiding and abetting her fellow fugitives around the globe."
You were about to say something snarky, but Steve had already taken a step forward, partially shielding you from Ross' view.
"We're not looking for forgiveness, and we're way past asking permission," Steve declared.
In that time, life became drastically different from your days in Alaska. You barely had a moment of repose, worried about the fate of the world.
But you found comfort in the blonde super soldier who was constantly hovering over you. His eyes would meet yours before a decision would be made. His hand sometimes pressed at the small of your back as you walked beside him. Time and again, you found him watching you, a silent question in his eyes. You'd nod back, I'm okay.
You didn't notice, but in one of those moments, Wanda had witnessed the exchange.
And she felt it. That something. Much like what she has with Vision.
But it just wasn't the right time.
It is a bit hard to face the truth that you might be in love when the whole world is burning.
"I guess this is our normal, after all," you wistfully remarked to him one evening, after everyone else had left. The plans were laid. You all were to go to Wakanda the next day.
Steve felt a sense of bitterness arising from him upon hearing your words. It really isn't fair. He has always done everything right, but he's losing count of how many joys he's had to sacrifice.
He lost everyone once. His mom, his sister, Bucky, his fellow soldiers, Dr. Erskine, Peggy. He'd buried himself in ice, only to wake up again in a world that wasn't his anymore.
What else does he have to lose, who else, before he is finally allowed to be happy?
His smile was pained when he replied, "I think I figured out the kind of normal I want."
Despite your exhaustion, you smiled back and curiously asked, "Oh yeah?"
Steve hopelessly tried to commit you to memory. The lilt in your voice, the shape of your lips. That undying spark in your eyes, which remained even when everything was cast in gloom.
Just in case he would wake up one day and find his whole world taken from him once more.
"Yeah," he finally said.
The world is ablaze, but he's grown used to it. He knew he would lay his life down on the line again if that means it would be saved.
But everything be damned, he allowed himself one selfish thought when he confessed, "We never should have left that cabin."
I'm in love with you, were the words caught in his throat. His heart screamed it, yearning to be heard.
And you did.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
It was a cruel twist of fate. But Thanos deemed it destiny.
Was it always meant to happen? Were they always meant to lose?
Steve didn't know how long he stayed on the ground next to the pile of ashes that used to be his best friend.
Bucky was gone.
Steve barely heard the screams. Anguished voices calling out the names of their friends, still searching.
All that would have been unbearable. The sounds of distress enough to drive one mad. But Steve heard nothing. He had nothing.
It's not fair. Inside, he felt like that sickly kid who was always dealt the worst hand. It does feel like he's a kid again, petulant and angry. It's not fair, he thought over and over, I don't deserve this.
Bring Bucky back to me.
Maybe it was all his fault. Maybe if he never took that damned serum... maybe... maybe...
"Cap," he heard someone break him out of his haze. Rhodey stood to the side. "Steve," he repeated, pleading, but Steve still could not find the strength to get up.
Then from the distance, he heard Natasha calling out for you. He stumbled to his feet, his head spinning. Casting one last glance at the spot where Bucky vanished, he turned and started running.
He found Natasha immediately, but not you.
"Where is she?" Steve growled, and his voice sounded rougher than he's ever heard before. Natasha would have recoiled in surprise, if she didn't possess nerves of steel.
"I'm looking," Natasha snapped impatiently. You would have been her loss too.
Steve felt as if he had already scoured through the whole field twice, his body threatening to just give in and crumble to the ground once more, as the hope of finding you dimmed.
Then he heard your faint voice, weak and weary, standing out among all the others.
"Steve?" There you stood, your face half-covered in dried blood and soot. "Did we lose?"
He swiveled around and took you in, a deep breath of helpless relief exiting his lungs. He was angry and defeated.
He wanted to throw Captain America to the wind, and surrender everything.
He wanted to hear his mother's voice singing to him again. This world is cruel, and he wanted to go back home.
But there you were.
There you were, and Steve knew he had not lost everything.
"How did it happen?" you asked as he approached. "Steve, what do we do? There must be something - "
His mouth crashes into yours with such bruising intensity that it makes you stumble backward, but his arms were quick to catch you.
He was right.
You never should have left that cabin.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
2024, seven months after Steve's departure
The nightmare is different.
It's worse. Much worse.
Bucky bolts upright on the floor of his living room, having chosen to bypass the comfort of his bedroom. He thinks this is because he needs to keep his TV on in the background, something to muffle the noise in his mind late at night.
Another reason, one he hasn't confronted yet, is how comfort feels so foreign. It feels wrong, like he doesn't deserve it.
Perhaps that is why he can't find comfort even in his dreams.
It flashes before his eyes, like a broken montage.
It's almost the same every time. He's the Winter Soldier. He's on a mission. There are faces swarming around him, bodies either racing to attack or running away. But he doesn't see any of them. He doesn't feel anything as he makes every single one of them crumble.
But it's different this time. The Winter Soldier does not so much as falter or show any hesitation as he wraps his metal fingers around your windpipe.
The Winter Soldier coldly watches as you expire. Bucky helplessly watches, unable to stop as he loses everything.
Thankfully awake, in this world where he still has you, Bucky's chest feels like it's about to implode.
So much for being a superabled freak.
The clock reads 3:13. It's late, but he needs some air.
He walks for 10 minutes, aimlessly. Then for 20 more, his mind having made a decision on its own. He soon finds himself standing in front of a familiar brownstone building, where your apartment is situated on the top floor.
You don't seem confused when you answer the buzzer. It wouldn't be the first time he has shown up unannounced.
"Can't sleep either?" You're a welcome vision when you greet him at the door, cheeks flushed by the white wine you usually drink at these hours.
She's still here, Bucky reminds himself. The only comfort that he won't deny.
Instead of walking past you, straight into your apartment like he always does, he takes one step closer.
And then another.
He shuts the door behind him.
You watch him carefully, scanning his every movement. There's something here, something different. He takes another step and he has you pressed against the wall.
His eyes betray the storm of emotion brewing inside. He has to remind himself that you're here, and he has you.
"Bucky," you whisper, and it's all he needs.
He leans in and finally touches his lips to yours.
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taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx @mrsevans90 @heartarianagran @tinystarfishgalaxy @kyoquixote @mochibochinochi @spngingerbread21 @zbeez-outlet @rena15 @raging-panda @marveldaydreamer @integers @torntaltos @imthebadguyyy @iidear @blackhawkfanatic @smhnxdiii
My emotions!!!!!! Hahahaha this chapter is a whole mess and so are our protagonists 🔪🫀
yes yes, expect that the next one is 18+ --- but I still won't say exactly with who --- maybe it's a trick? Maybe it's neither of them? Oh well, honestly some of you have got it bang on already 🤷🏻‍♀️
As always, I am keen to hear what you guys think!!
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lives-in-midgard · 2 days
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Falling in love with horse ranch owner Bucky.
Moodboard Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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animal-herself · 14 hours
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https://sandra-543.ludgu.top/ct/UT21BFl
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munsonshire · 1 day
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Sleeping with Bucky Barnes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (gender neutral) Warnings: talk about nightmares? Idk if that's a warning, this is just all fluff tbh. Masterlist Bucky Masterlist
At first, he doesn't like you sleeping with him, he worries because of the nightmares and night terrors that he has because of his time at Hydra
After some time dating, he would actually start seeking your touch, your comfort, you. Mostly because his love language is touch, but after years of loneliness and torture he's quite rusty so give the poor baby his time
He is really touch-starved
He likes to be the big spoon when cuddling or having you lay on his chest, that does ground him a lot.
He doesn't move a lot in his sleep, only when he's having a nightmare
He gets them very often
Sometimes he won't talk after, he'll get up and want to be alone for some time, but after he's calmed down he will seek your comfort and reassuring words to calm him down completely
After nightmares he likes you being the big spoon, holding him and making him feel safe for the first time in forever
He likes it when you hold onto his metal arm when you go to sleep as if it was your personal teddy bear, basically trapping buckys arm for the night. It makes him associate it with something else than being a weapon, gives his metal arm a new meaning.
He's such a cuddler (i dont care how many of you say he ain't,, I'm dying on this hill)
If he's particularly comfortable sleeping with you he does move a lot, sometimes throwing you off the bed. And instead of apologizing he will laugh at you for falling.
Tags: @lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky @samkickikc @yeehawbrothers @nash-dara @chococat-fandoms @alltoowellread @beans-and-toast @divinefemmesworld @llokii @mostlymarvelgirl @haileygarciasunshine @dispatchvampire
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biteofcherry · 23 hours
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oh Aspen, but why is it so emotional and intimate 🥺🩷
It makes me think of Echo That Thunders Bucky.
One of the nights shortly after your reunion.
It amazed you both how simple and easy that day went. As well the few before it. All of them, if you were being honest.
Yes, there were those moments of thoughts gaining speed and tangling in skeins, but they untangled the second you were in the same room again.
Perhaps it was due to how well you co-parented even when you were divorced, or maybe you and Bucky simply perfectly fit together, but you fell back into it as if you never parted.
It wasn't only about taking care of your son and sharing chores. The way you two were around each other, with each other, was harmony.
There was no awkwardness when Bucky walked into the bathroom as you stepped out of the shower. No shyness in the way you squeezed his butt as you passed him.
You went through your routine of applying skincare on your face while Bucky sat on the bed and flipped through the pages of the newest book he was reading, trying to find the chapter he paused at (because he always kept losing the bookmark).
Once he found it, he placed the book on the nightstand - open on said chapter, cover facing up. Then he slid across the bed in one swift move, causing you to laugh when landed on your side, with his thighs perfectly spread on the sides of your foot that was propped on the mattress as you applied lotion on your body.
Bucky's fingers gently kneaded the muscles of your calf as he offered to help you rub in the lotion.
Then they traveled upwards. His mouth following.
Your robe fell to the floor; your nightie soon joining it. As you sank down on Bucky's lap, his hands roamed over your warm, sweetly scented body.
The way Bucky touched you wasn't a mere reflection of sexual need, though his hardness that twitched against your thigh sure was sending that message.
His touch was a caress - whether gentle and light, or a harsher pinch, it spoke of love and pure happiness of being with you.
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Hello if you’re still doing Bucky one shots can you please do a Bucky x f!reader who gets kidnapped and controlled/programmed by Hydra and Bucky fights to get through to her and break the programming by having filthy sex
Break Through » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x HYDRA Agent!FemaleReader
Summary: Y/N got kidnapped by HYDRA and Bucky tries to break through the programming to get her back to her normal self in a different way.
Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, vibranium arm kink, praise kink, use of pet names.
A/N: Y/N is referred to as HYDRA’s Princess.
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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Bucky cautiously walked through the HYDRA base with his gun held out in front of him, in search for you. You got kidnapped by HYDRA three months ago and Bucky finally found the base you’re being held in. Bucky’s attention was quickly turned on the room down the hall when he heard a loud noise. When he walked in the room, he checked every part of it. That’s when the door slammed shut. Bucky quickly turned around with his gun held out.
“Y/N?” Bucky says softly, slowly lowering his gun.
“Who the hell is Y/N?” You asked, tilting your head.
“What did they do to you, doll?” He asks, putting his gun in the holster.
“Didn’t you hear? I’m HYDRA’s new princess.” You tell him, slowly walking towards him.
“No you’re not. You’re an Avenger.” He says.
You chuckled and looked at him, stopping just a few feet from him.
“How would you know, Soldat?” You questioned.
Bucky cringed when you called him Soldat. He hasn’t been called that in a while.
“The Y/N I know is sweet and loving. Not a HYDRA agent.” He says.
“That Y/N is long gone, Soldat. I haven’t been her in quite some time.” You tell him. “Now…” You pulled a knife from the holster on your thigh. “Let’s get down to business.” You start, twirling the knife in your hand. “You have two options. One, you willingly come with me back to the lab and get your memory wiped and back under our control. Two, we fight. I suggest you choose wisely.” You say.
“I’m not going to fight you, doll. You’re my friend. I don’t fight my friends.” He says.
“Then I’ll choose for you.” You say.
You lunged at him with the knife, but Bucky quickly grabbed your arm with his right hand and took the knife from your hand with his vibranium hand, throwing it somewhere in the room.
“Y/N, listen to me. This isn’t you. They have you under their control. You have to fight this and break through it.” He says.
You threw a punch at him with your free fist. Bucky let go of your arm and put his hand on his jaw where you punched him. You threw a few more punches at him before lifting your leg to roundhouse kick him, but Bucky grabbed your leg and made you fall to the floor. You used your foot to knock Bucky to the floor next to you. You got on top of him, straddling him.
“Is that your gun or are you happy to see me, Soldat?” You asked with a smirk when you felt his bulge pressing against your clothed pussy.
“Both.” He answers.
Bucky caught you off guard by flipping the two of you over so now you’re on the floor and he’s on top of you. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. You squirmed in his hold to get out, but he was too strong.
“You gonna show me a good time, Soldat?” You asked.
“That depends. Are you going to be a good girl for me or are we going to do this the hard way?” He asks.
“I love doing things the hard way.” You say with a smirk.
“Hard way it is then.” He says.
Bucky’s vibranium hand unbuttoned and unzipped the button and zipper on your tactical pants. He slid his hand inside of your pants, rubbing your pussy through wet panties. You moaned and bucked your hips against his hand. He moved your panties to the side, his vibranium fingers rubbed from your clit to your tight entrance. His unexpectedly slid two of his vibranium fingers inside of you, making you gasp. He thrusted them in and out of you at a fast pace. You were almost like putty in his hands.
“More!” You begged.
“You want more? I’ll give you more, doll.” Bucky says.
Bucky pulled his vibranium fingers out of you to unbuckle his belt and unbutton and unzip the button and zipper on his tactical pants. He pulled them down just enough for his hard cock to spring out. He let go of your wrists to pull down your tactical pants and panties in one go. You couldn’t help but stare at his cock.
“My eyes are up here, doll face.” He says, snapping his fingers in your face.
Bucky flipped you over onto your stomach and lifted your hips up so your ass was sticking out towards him. He pumped his cock in his right hand a couple times before rubbing in between your wet folds, covering it with your slick. You gasped when you felt his tip at your entrance. He slowly slid his cock inside of you till he was balls deep inside of you.
“Is that it?” You asked teasingly with a giggle.
Bucky pulled out almost all the way, only leaving his tip inside of you and unexpectedly thrusting back inside of you roughly, making you moan loudly. His hands held onto your hips tightly as he fucked you, occasionally bringing your hips back to meet his thrusts.
“C’mon, doll. You know me.” Bucky says.
You shook your head no, not able to form coherent words, just moans. Your mind was all over the place. You wanted to fight him and finish your mission, but at the same time you wanted him to fuck you senseless like he’s doing in this very moment. Bucky moved your hair and leaned down, kissing along your neck. You gasped when you felt his teeth nip your skin hard enough for hickeys. Your cunt squeezed around his cock as a reaction.
“That’s a start.” Bucky says against your skin. “Your pussy remembers me.” He says with a light chuckle.
“Shut up and fuck me harder!” You managed to say without moaning.
“Fuck you harder? Your wish is my command, doll face.” He smirks.
Bucky sat up on his knees and got a good grip on your hips and began pounding into you. That’s when your mind went fuzzy, along with pleasure taking over your body. Your mind was moving a million miles an hour. It felt like there was so many things going on. You couldn’t tell if this was HYDRA’s control on you or if you were trying to break through it. Either or, you were loving what’s happening in this very moment.
“I- mmm fuck!” You moaned, trying to form a sentence.
“C’mon, doll. You can break through the control. I know you can.” He says.
You opened your mouth to say something, but a loud moan left your lips instead when his cock hit your sweet spot.
“Right there!” You say, followed by a moan.
Bucky smirked to himself. His vibranium hand left your hip and found its way to your front, blindly finding your clit and began rubbing it in fast circles. Nothing but moans and screams of pleasure left your lips.
“Talk to me, babydoll.” He says, his voice raspy.
“I’ll help you find what you came here for if you keep fucking me.” You say.
“I already found what I came here for… you.” He says.
That’s when a floodgate of memories came flooding in your mind. Memories of Bucky being restored back in your mind. Your breathing got heavier. Pleasure was about to wash over you when you felt your orgasm building up.
“Oh fuck!” You moaned. “Please let me cum!” You begged.
“Cum for me, babydoll.” Bucky pants.
His fingers rubbed faster on your clit. A moan left of his name left your lips as you came. Bucky fucked you through your orgasm with his own orgasm building up. He lost rhythm with his thrusts, but quickly regained it. After a few more thrusts, he came inside of you with a moan leaving his lips. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He slowly pulled out of you and sat back on his knees to catch his breath while you laid on your stomach on the floor. You panted and squeezed your eyes shut as you rolled over onto your back.
“Bucky…” You say breathlessly, looking at him.
“Do you remember me?” Bucky asks.
“Mhmm.” You hummed with a smile.
Bucky hovered over you and leaned down to kiss you passionately. He put his cock back in his boxers and redid his tactical pants. Bucky helped you pull up your panties and tactical pants and helped you stand up. Your legs were wobbly and you fell against Bucky’s chest.
“Let’s get you out of here, doll.” Bucky says softly, picking you up bridal style.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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buckyalpine · 3 months
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40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.
Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.
You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.
Bucky was in love.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"
“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"
“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.
"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.
He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.
How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.
So much closer.
-
"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"
You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.
“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.
"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"
"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.
All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-
“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"
You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.
“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”
His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.
"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.
Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.
-
You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.
"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.
"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.
You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.
"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"
He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.
"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.
"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.
"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.
But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.
If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.
You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.
"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.
Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.
Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-
“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.
“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"
"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.
"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.
"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .
“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”
His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.
“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.
“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-
"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"
-
And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.
There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.
It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.
The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.
Everything was perfecttt.
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thevillainswhore · 5 months
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New Tricks
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Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 9.5k
Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead
What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular. 
Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.
Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky
Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne
Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗
These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️
New Tricks Masterlist
I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹
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Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door. 
“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time,  when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.  
Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck. 
The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again. 
Excellent, you inwardly sigh.
“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting  internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level.  “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.” 
Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck.  Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–
“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows. 
Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”
His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?” 
No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind. 
“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.” 
The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes. 
“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.” 
You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation. 
Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic. 
“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?” 
Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–” 
You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.
Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”
Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning. 
“What the shit–“ 
The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?” 
In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!” 
Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.” 
The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”
“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”
“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.  
The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all. 
And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?” 
Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”
“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids. 
“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”
Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed. 
“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.” 
It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone. 
You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?” 
You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“
“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over. 
Had he been listening that whole time? 
Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky  may have made was a burden you did not want to bear,  and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”
Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.” 
The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”
“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”
His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.  
With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.  
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“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”
The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”
“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”
Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump. 
You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose.  “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”
With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off. 
Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips. 
Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door. 
With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”
Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.  
Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”
He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”
You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.  
“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?” 
The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”
You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.” 
Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf. 
The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?” 
“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”
You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”
“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom. 
Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”
“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you. 
A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.  
The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence. 
Though, it is short lived. 
Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand. 
A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works. 
“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off. 
You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before… 
“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”
A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious. 
His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you. 
“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”
The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats. 
Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?” 
You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”
The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet. 
Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.
“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”
“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.  
Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company. 
This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence. 
Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone. 
“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content. 
“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”
“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets. 
“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.
The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.
“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.
Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.  
That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself. 
“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?” 
You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV. 
“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.” 
The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.” 
Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.” 
Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”
“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.” 
You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”
Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it. 
Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”  
Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”
“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!” 
He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?” 
“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.  
“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”
His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”
Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night. 
There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus. 
Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”  
Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing. 
“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”
“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”
“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”
A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”
“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.” 
Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” 
His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face. 
Okay, you think privately, so what? 
Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt. 
If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”
“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”
Now that catches you off guard. 
Bucky… is a virgin? 
Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match. 
Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression. 
“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”
No other words come to mind. 
When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts. 
You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully. 
The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him. 
Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession. 
It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands,  and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty. 
From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer. 
Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past.  And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket. 
What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?
To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs. 
Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees. 
“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.  
The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical. 
You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”
“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”
Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.” 
“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting. 
You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”
He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“
“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”
“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.
“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”
You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.
“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”
“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through. 
Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek. 
This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance. 
You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.
He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”
“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap. 
That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth. 
There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves. 
Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face. 
“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.
There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek. 
“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.
Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”
The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes. 
Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.  
“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session. 
Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.
“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.  
You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.
“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension. 
A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time. 
Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.  
The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close. 
But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard. 
The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly. 
Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before. 
You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another. 
It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you. 
And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–” 
To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.  
Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries. 
You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.
The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss. 
You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move. 
Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous. 
It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”
Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”
Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”
Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.
“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.” 
You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin. 
The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet. 
The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt  — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.
Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.  
“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”
“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”
You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”
The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn. 
“Wha– Fuck!”
You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it. 
The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.
Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release. 
You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the  loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle. 
Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.
Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck. 
You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently. 
“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”
Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him. 
You can’t have that, though. 
Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”
Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go. 
It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in. 
You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?” 
Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.” 
“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.  
You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.” 
The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”
Something snaps within him. 
The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure. 
To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”
“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”
A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop. 
“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”
“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!” 
“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed. 
“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”
The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.
“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss. 
“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”
You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat. 
The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”
Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness. 
After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”
“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material. 
Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”
“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.
The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”
Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”
“But–” Bucky tries. 
“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”
His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”
“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”
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The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces. 
It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”
You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands. 
And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair. 
You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.
“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.” 
You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only– 
“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala. 
“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”
But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”
“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?” 
That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes. 
You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”
Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away. 
With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”
The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky. 
“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”
“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”
You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”
The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall.  “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”
A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive. 
“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.” 
That meant only one person was responsible. 
Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.  
Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night. 
I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake. 
Love ya squirt, 
Your big bro.
“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.
P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x 
Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again. 
“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”
Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain. 
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Part Two, Part Three
5K notes · View notes
sinner-as-saint · 4 months
Text
run for your life
Mob!Bucky x Reader 
Summary: He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with. 
Themes: slight stalker!bucky, possessive!bucky, mild degrading kink, smut, FLUFF, opposite aesthetics, mild daddy kink (nicknames only), cosy little town vibes 
a/n: some fluffy mob!bucky to end the year <3 Thank you so much for always supporting my silly little fics. Merry Christmas my darlings, and happy New Year!! See you soon ;)
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He didn't know where exactly he would end up locating you, but finding you in a cosy, small, coastal town in the south of France was not on his list. 
You being the owner of a gourmet bakery was not on his list either. Bucky was confused, surprised, but mostly confused. How did this happen? At first, when Sam came to deliver him the news of your location that morning, Bucky didn’t believe him. Had Sam not been Bucky’s oldest, most loyal friend Bucky would’ve never believed him at all. 
“I’m gonna need you to stop being a dumbass and go find this girl!” Sam, ever the voice of reason yelled at Bucky who had been drowning in his sorrows. “It’s been months, and I can’t keep covering for your ass. I have my own shit to do, my own men to command.” He used that cool, authoritative voice of his. “Pull yourself together, Buck. Go find her.” 
Sam was right. Of course he was. He always was. And it had really been months since that damned night… 
— 
Bucky couldn’t wait to get out of his plane the moment it landed. It was late at night, but the perfect time to go to the club. He had missed it. Well, not the whole club really. Bucky had missed you. 
He had a… special connection with you. His girl. His only girl. His favourite girl. 
This time, he thought, he would do whatever he can to solidify whatever was happening between the two of you. Maybe he’d even get you to go on a real date with him. Maybe that would lead to something more. He was smiling to himself just thinking about it. 
He often thought back to the night you met. He was at the club after a long day of being the dark ruler he was. All he wanted was a drink and a pretty woman on his lap. That’s when he found you. 
Right as he walked in, you caught his eye. Walking around serving drinks, wearing a little see-through red dress that brought every man you walked past to his knees. 
Once he got to his booth, Bucky called you over. You walked towards him sheepishly. 
“I’ve never seen you around here before, beautiful.” He said, patting his thigh. He noticed the way you hesitated. Must be new, he thought. 
You carefully perched on his lap, holding your empty metal tray to your chest. Bucky smirked as he looked at it, like you were putting a makeshift barrier between the two of you. When you remained quiet and squirmy, Bucky spoke up again. 
“Come on, babygirl. Talk to me, it’s okay.” He whispered at his nuzzled your neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely, then I might.” 
His warm breath against your skin tickled. You chuckled as you pulled away to look at him. “Um, I’m just a waitress. I’m not supposed to…” You trailed off. Both of you were aware of the no-contact ‘rule’. But there was a natural, unexplainable spark there that neither of you could ignore. 
“Hmm,” His chest rumbled. “How about we go somewhere private?” He whispered into your ear and noticed the way you shivered. 
You hung your head, clutching your metal tray. “Waitresses aren’t supposed to go into the VIP rooms, sir.” You said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear you above the sensual music. 
Bucky smirked. Then leaned in and whispered, “I suppose I can bend the rules a little given I co-own the club.” 
You froze and went to stand up immediately, already apologising but he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you on his lap. 
“It’s okay, babygirl. You’re not in trouble, I promise.” 
The two of you ended up in one of the VIP rooms. Nothing happened, you just kissed and talked and kissed some more. Bucky promised to come back. And he did. For months. Again and again and each time he did, you were drawn to him like he was gravity from the very moment he walked into the room. 
And that night he landed after being away for weeks, he expected you to run right into his arms the moment he’d enter the club like you always did. He even got you a nice little gift to make up for the time that he’d been away. It was a rare, red diamond choker. He could already imagine how it would look around your neck. Like a brand. His. 
But then he got to the club. And he noticed everyone was avoiding his eyes almost anxiously. And his girl was nowhere to be seen. He searched for you in the main area for a while, then even searched the VIP rooms, vowing to commit horrible crimes if he ever found you in there with another man. 
But no. 
He called Sam, who co-owned the club, and Sam had no idea who he was talking about. Bucky asked the staff members, and one bartender finally told him that you’d resigned a few weeks ago. And no one knew where you went. He asked for your full name, but no one knew that either. 
Not even Sam. “I didn’t even know we had a new waitress, Buck. I have more important shit to worry about.” He’d said, adding to the burning sensation in Bucky’s chest. 
“She left me.” 
Sam had no idea what his best friend was babbling about. And during the many months that followed, Bucky was a mess. A mess like Sam had never seen before. Frantically scanning country after country, searching for a girl with no name. He was in love, and he wasn’t giving up. He would find his girl come what may. 
But now Bucky knew where you were. 
And he was more confused than ever. He had even more questions. 
Bucky spent a whole week in that little town. Watching you, learning your routine, observing and questioning. He disguised himself as a local and always kept his distance even though his hands itched to touch you. 
At first he was bothered by how you were fine with living the same day everyday. Your routine seemed boring at first, but the more he watched, the more he realised it was sort of therapeutic. The normality of it all. 
He rented an apartment on the other side of the street from your bakery, and he spent hours watching you. 
You lived right above the bakery. A quaint apartment, with flower pots all around the french windows. Sometimes when you forgot to turn the lights off at night, Bucky spent the whole night spying on you, counting your breaths as you slept on your couch in front of the TV. 
You’d wake up at the crack of dawn, then you’d feed your dogs. He noticed you had two. Lazy, both of them. Then you’d get downstairs and within half an hour, the cool air that entered his apartment carried the smell of the sea and baked goods. 
All he wanted was to cross the cobblestone street and drag you to his bed, demand answers while fucking some sense into you. But the more he watched you, the more his anger diminished. Temporarily. 
The genuine smile on your face as you served your loyal customers all day, especially the ones who always came early in the morning on their way to work. The occasional sound of your voice or your laughter that slipped past whenever someone didn’t close the door right. The sound of children squealing and laughing whenever you gave away leftover baked goods or donuts in the evenings. How you knew almost everyone by name. How sometimes you invited neighbours over for wine nights. How you went on little walks in late, cool evenings, forcing your lazy pets to walk but then ending up having to carry them on the way back. They were spoiled, he realised. He hated to admit that he was jealous of the damned dogs who got so much of your attention while he starved for it. 
He wasn’t angry by the end of that first week of spying, he was just hurting. How dare you live a whole new life without him? How dare you laugh and seem like you don’t miss him? He’d just spent months looking for you and here you were, just going about your day like you didn’t care? Like none of those nights you’d spent together mattered? 
Meanwhile he was shaking just reminiscing the way your touch felt across his skin. He remembered the first time the two of you crossed that line in one of the VIP rooms…
You were wearing that red dress again. Fucking tease, he hissed each time you moved or squirmed on his lap. 
“Baby, please,” He groaned. “Just… let me touch you. Daddy will make you feel good, so good babygirl, I promise.” He pleaded, hands caressing your soft, warm thighs. 
You shook your head, popping another one of those chocolates he brought you into your mouth and sucking your fingers after. Torturing him. 
“We can’t,” You insisted, with nothing but mischief in your eyes as you looked at him. “You made these rules yourself, remember?” You chuckled when he groaned again when you straddled him properly. 
“I don’t give a shit about rules.” He hissed, nuzzling your neck. Slowly, he kissed up and down your neck. “I just wanna taste you. That’s it. Just a taste.” 
That’s how he found himself on his knees, face in between your thighs. His skilled tongue making you whine and whimper as you tugged on his hair. Bucky hummed in appreciation the more he tasted you. 
“Come on daddy’s face, baby…” 
That’s it. 
Bucky decided he would go see you the next morning. He would drag you back home if he had to, but he wouldn’t spend another day without you. Who did you think you were? No one just tosses him aside like this. He’d remind you who he was and then you’d both go home right away. 
Bucky woke up to a thunderstorm. Weather around here was unpredictable. He got out of bed and immediately looked outside to find your bakery empty. No customers in sight because of the heavy rain, lightning and thunder. The golden light was on though. 
He decided it was time to go have a talk with you. He promised not to lose his temper. He would go in there calmly, talk it out with you. Ask you what the fuck you are doing here, and then he’d take you home. 
But that ended up not happening. 
Bucky crossed the slippery cobblestone street, walked into your comforting, sweet smelling bakery and froze. He froze right there at the entrance. 
As did you. Standing there behind the wooden counter, oven mittens in your hand and apron in another, you stared at Bucky with nothing but pure shock and surprise on your face. A thousand thoughts, mainly questions, crossed your mind. 
What is he doing here? How did he find you? Why is he dressed casually like a local, wearing soft colours instead of his usual suits? How long has he been here? What is he doing here? 
You let out a little gasp. “Bucky?” 
Wrong move, apparently. Because his demeanour changed in a nanosecond. His calm and collected-ness was forgotten instantly. Jaws clenched, with a murderous look in his eyes, he walked closer, more like charged at you, and around the counter before you could even get a word out. 
He had you pinned to the nearest wall before you could process it all. Knocking down a framed picture in the process. Towering above you, he looked like he was beyond pissed. 
“Bucky, I—,” 
“Shut up.” He hissed, voice cold with bitterness and anger. He watched how you shivered when he pinned your wrists to the wall on either side of your head. “Shut the fuck up.” 
He leaned closer, chest pressing against yours leaving no space in between. He closed his eyes and sighed for a moment, trying his hardest to see reason but he was angry. So angry he couldn’t think. 
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He spoke with such a low voice that you trembled against him, causing him to tighten his grip around your wrists, surely bruising them. You didn’t care. 
You winced, “I can explain.” Fuck, you’d missed him too. It had been months since you last saw him. He was just as handsome as you remembered. His hair was a little longer now, his beard a little thicker. But he made your heart race just the same. “Please Bucky,” You whispered, “let me explain everything to you.” 
“No.” He growled before pressing his mouth to yours, angrily. Like he wanted his kiss to hurt. And it did. 
His rough facial hair scratched your skin, his teeth nibbled on and bit your lips. His hands damn near crushed your wrists in his strong grip. And he didn’t give you even the briefest second to breathe. He kissed you just like how he imagined he would do once he found you. Ravenously. Pouring everything he felt into it. Desperation, anger, hurt, obsession. He couldn’t get enough. 
“Bucky…” You gasped against his lips when he finally pulled away. Breathing fast, you tried to get a look at him but he just seemed even more angry. 
“Turn around,” He mumbled, forcing you to turn around anyway. Fuck, the sight of you in that long, flowy, sundress was doing things to him. He was never this bothered when you used to parade around in your little see-through dresses, but somehow the sight of you in this pink, floral dress was making him act like a caveman. 
His movements were rash and angry. He almost tore your dress off of you while he shoved his rough hand in between your legs and touched you where you desperately wanted him to. You whined and trembled against the cool wall when he slid a finger in, fucking you with it while he hissed into your ear. 
“I should punish you for what you did to me,” His deep voice made his chest rumble against your back. “I should tie you up and fuck you however I want.” 
Your dress was partially off, bunched and only hanging on around your waist. Being so dishevelled made this even dirtier. You were moaning by now, hoping the heavy rain would blur your actions from anyone who walked by the shop. Or god forbid, walk in. 
“How dare you think you can just leave me?” He demanded, sliding another finger inside you and making your body come alive. 
You were embarrassingly wet at this point, and the sounds your body made as he finger-fucked you were lewd. But you couldn’t get enough. 
More, more, more. You mentally chanted. 
Bucky wasn’t having the silent treatment, so he smacked your thigh to get your attention. You yelped. Your skin stung as he smacked it again, on the same spot. Harder this time. You cried out even louder as he kept taunting you. “Answer me, you fucking brat!” His lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “Why did you leave me?” 
You cried as he kept fucking you with his fingers you even as you came. His fingers sliding in and out with ease now. The sounds you made were wanton. “You… you left first.” You tried to argue. But failed miserably. 
He chuckled in that dark and dangerous way of his. “I left for work.” He said, “And I promised you I’d be back.” He reached deeper inside you, curling his fingers just enough to make you mutter incoherent things. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” 
“Please, please, please…” You begged. “Please I need to come, Bucky please.” 
“Oh?” He chuckled again, slowing down his movements purposely. “No one touched you, huh?” He playfully bit on your exposed shoulder. “You’re so fucking wet it’s dripping down my hand, babygirl.” He boasted. “Is it because no one has touched you these past few months? Hmm?” 
“Yes…” You had tears streaming down your face, and you nodded breathlessly. “Please…” 
But instead of making you come all over his fingers, Bucky pulled away for a brief moment. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him undoing his trousers. And moments later, he was rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds. You shivered in pleasure.
“I’m gonna teach you what happens to people who think they can run from me, babygirl.” He growled as he pushed his cock into you, making you cry out loud as he stretched you out. 
After months of not having him, right now he felt huge inside you. Just like that, memories of nights spent with him came flooding back in. You moaned as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts. 
His hand gripped you by the hips, holding you against him as he sped up into you, fucking you like he hated you. Like it was punishment. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and licked, and bit on your skin as he fucked into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls.
“Did you think I’d never find you?” He asked, fucking into you. “I bet you thought you’d gotten rid of me, hmm?” 
You’d missed him too. He could tell by the way you were starting to clench around him already. Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how good he felt inside you. 
“See, it didn’t have to be like this, baby…” he mumbled angrily against your skin while he fucked you like an animal, “I could be nice and gentle with your body, but you just had to be a fucking brat and leave me with no warning.” He spat, growling in your ear as he pounded into you, your chest slamming into the wall with each thrust. It hurt in the best way. 
“You feel so fucking good, baby,” He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly.
The pleasure, the pain, the heat of him… was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. 
“Bucky–,” You choked on your words as you came undone, walls clenching around him, and a loud moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. It was almost blinding. 
His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He came while biting down hard on your shoulder. So hard that even you cried out, still coming down from your high as you felt him spill deep inside you. 
That bite on your shoulder hurt. And like a chain reaction, everything began to hurt. Having him here hurt. Memories of being with him in the city, in the dark rooms of that club hurt. Realising how fast your life changed hurt. 
You didn’t realise you were sobbing quietly until you heard Bucky apologising profusely. Suddenly no longer angry. No longer feeling betrayed. 
“Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry.” He kissed that sore spot softly, his bite mark on your shoulder repeatedly as he wrapped his arms around you, securing you in the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t know what came over me, babygirl. I’m so sorry, please look at me. Hey, hey,” He pulled away and turned you so you faced him, still with tears in your eyes. “Babygirl, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, wiping your tears away, then kissing your face repeatedly. 
You remained like that for a few minutes. Arms wrapped around one another, standing there against that wall while it rained like hell outside. Bucky didn’t stop apologising. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been an animal like this with you, I—,” 
You cut him off finally, “Shh, it’s okay.” You pulled away from his warm chest to look up at him. “I needed this.” You said, sniffling as you gently cupped his rough cheek, caressing his face with your thumb. “I needed you like this.” 
He just hugged you close again, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry.” He apologised one final time. “I’ll listen, I promise. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” 
You smiled faintly at him. “Then I should lock up down here and we can go upstairs. I don’t want to scare my neighbours by risking them finding us like this.” You looked down at your partially torn dress and Bucky’s unbuttoned trousers. 
Much to your surprise, Bucky said, “You go ahead, I’ll close and lock up.” 
You frowned at him even as you desperately tried to get the top of your sundress to cover your chest. “You wouldn’t know how to…” You trailed off as realisation set in. He was a calculated, smart man. He didn’t just apparate on your doorstep with no planning. “You’ve been watching me.” You stated, raising an eyebrow at him. 
Bucky gave you a rare, guilty look. 
You sighed and shook your head. “I guess I chose this life by getting involved with you.” You gave him a faint smile. “Alright then, lock it. Leave the key in the little basket by the door.” You started walking towards the stairs, then turned around again and said, “Make sure the windows are properly locked too, because of the rain and stuff.” 
“Yes ma’am,” Bucky nodded.
You smirked at him. 
With that you took the stairs and Bucky watched you go with a fond smile on his face. No one ever ordered him around. He hated it. But coming from you, he quite liked it. 
Bucky chuckled at himself because never in his life had he ever imagined he would one day be closing up a bakery in a small town, all for the woman he’s obsessively in love with. But he didn’t mind it one bit. 
After following your instructions and double checking the windows, he made his way upstairs as well. Again, he didn’t know what he expected your place to look like – and all that spying only allowed him glimpses of your apartment – but he never expected your space to look so… 
Pink. With occasional gold accents. Pale pink couch, the one you often fell asleep on while watching TV, and fluffy white pillows and rugs to go with. Paintings hanging on even paler pink walls. The kitchen he couldn’t quite see but he assumed it’d have to be all white. Pink dog beds, with fluffy balls of brown fur sleeping on them – wearing pink collars no less. 
He couldn’t see your bedroom from the living room given the door was closed but given the pink, fluffy robe and socks you wore he could imagine just how pink it must be. 
“It’s so girly.” He commented, as if surprised. Maybe he was a little. After all, he knew you as the seductive goddess he met almost every night at the club. He never realised that it was all just a show, that it was all just a persona at work. In a way, stepping into your space felt so intimate. He liked it. 
You chuckled. “Coquette, please.” You corrected as you handed him a glass of red wine while he took a seat beside you. He did look a little out of place in your apartment, a dark and broody man like him. But then again, he was here and that’s all that mattered. 
He turned to look at you and couldn’t resist holding your hand and pulling you onto his lap again. “Come here,” He said, “I’ve missed you.” 
As you straddled his lap, your robe exposed some of your shoulder and Bucky saw the very noticeable bite mark he left on you. He grimaced when he saw it. He placed his wine glass to the side and traced the bite mark with his thumb carefully. 
“I’m sorry, babygirl.” He whispered, leaning in to nuzzle your neck and kiss the bite mark. And breathe in your scent. Fuck, he’d missed it so much. “You smell a little different. Fruitier.” 
You giggled when his hair tickled your skin. “I made blueberry compote earlier this morning. Perhaps that’s why.” 
You could feel him smiling against your skin. Then he pulled away to look at you. His hands shamelessly slid under your robe, eager to touch your skin. Relishing it this time, not in a feral hurry like he was earlier. He seemed visibly calmer too. 
“We used to spend hours like this at the club, remember?” He spoke, and immediately you were overwhelmed with nostalgia. 
Hours, days, weeks, months. Some days back then you would wake up in the morning already excited to see Bucky in the evening. And it wasn’t because it was all sexual. So many nights all you two did was drink, laugh and talk about everything. He once told you that apart from Sam, you were his only real friend. 
Bucky kissed you, breaking you out of your reverie surely thinking of the past as well. It was a slow, gentle kiss. It was consuming you. His hands caressed your thighs which were still a little sore from earlier. You winced in pain when he massaged the spot where he spanked you. 
Bucky pulled away from the kiss, apologising again as he kissed down your chin. “I’m sorry, babygirl.” 
You smiled at him after taking a sip of your wine. “Stop pretending as if we were always vanilla or that this is scandalous in any way shape or form.” You chuckled as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, “We both know this was nothing compared to how we used to be.” 
Bucky smiled, a little sadly. “I missed you.” He repeated. “Tell me,” He said, “Tell me everything.” 
You finished your wine. “What do you want to know?” 
“Why did you start working at the club?” He caught the look of sadness that suddenly appeared on your face upon hearing the question.
“I… I had to drop out of uni because my grandparents fell sick.” You explained. “Mom and dad were travelling for work at the time, and I was the only one who could take care of grandma and grandpa. The treatments and all ended up costing a little more than what we had so I needed a job that paid well, I also needed one that would allow me to be flexible with my time so I could take care of my grandparents.” 
Bucky nodded, “Hence the club.” 
You nodded in confirmation. 
“Your parents never intervened? So you could finish your education?” He questioned. 
“No.” You said, almost emotionless. “When they found out what I was doing, where I was working to earn the extra money we needed… they kind of disowned me. And vowed to never talk to me again.” You chuckled, humourlessly. 
“They don’t deserve you.” Bucky said quickly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close. “You were so brave baby, I wish you would’ve told me all of this.” 
You slid your fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp gently. “You were already taking care of me.” You said, “You mended my heart a little each night when I saw you.” 
“I wish I could’ve done more.” He kissed along your collarbones, then froze again as if he remembered something. “I almost forgot,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sleek black box. “I got you something.” Then clarified, “Well, I got you this months ago. I would’ve given it to you had you not run away from me.” 
You rolled your eyes at him, “I didn’t run from you, I–,” 
He cut you off with a finger on your lips. “Tell me about that part in a minute,” He opened the slender black box to reveal the red diamond choker inside. “I had this made for you.” He watched your face intently. 
“Bucky…” You hesitantly reached for it, running your fingers over the beauty of it. It was a simple design. Elegant, timeless. Way too expensive. “I can’t take this,” You began protesting, “It’s too much.” 
Bucky made a face and said, “Oh shut up.” He was already clasping it around your neck before you could protest any further. “It’s a gift from daddy,” He whispered against the corner of your lips. “You deserve it, babygirl.” 
When he pulled away to look at you, his heart almost broke again at the sight of the tears in your eyes. 
“What is it?” He asked, wiping your tears away for the second time today. “Is it that ugly?” 
You laughed through the tears. “No, it’s the prettiest thing I own.” You sniffled. “The only piece of real jewellery in fact.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” 
“Remind me to get you a whole collection.” Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you deeply. 
Then it turned into something more and by the time the afternoon rolled around, the two of you had lost count how many times you’d made love on your pink couch. Slow touches and cuddles, and soft kisses always resulted in the two of you fucking again. 
In the late afternoon, while snacking on random things Bucky realised you still hadn’t explained how you ended up here. 
“Grandma and grandpa’s bakery.” You explained, watching the rain pour outside. “They left it to me. They died within weeks of each other,” You said with a melancholic smile on your face, “I always knew that would happen. They loved each other too much to live without one another for too long.” 
You turned to look at Bucky who pulled you onto his lap again and held you as tightly as possible. You weren’t crying this time, but being held felt nice. 
You continued, “I had funerals to plan, I had to pack up my life and move all the way here, I had to take on the responsibility of the bakery and renovate this apartment. And you were already gone at the time so…” You sighed. “I didn’t know if I should leave a note or not. I didn’t know if you were actually coming back or–,” 
“I would never abandon you. I thought you knew that.” Bucky said, a little annoyed at that. “I made you a promise, did you not–,” 
You couldn’t help but argue, “Yeah well, I didn’t know if what we had was real enough for you to come back to.” 
Bucky frowned. “Baby…” 
You gave him a small smile, and pressed your forehead against his, rubbing your noses together. “I know now. It is.” 
When you finally pulled away from his addicting embrace you said, “I’m gonna get started on dinner. You can shower in there,” You pointed at your bedroom door as you got up from the couch. Bucky tried to grab you again but you pulled away laughing. “The weather is clearing up, we can have dinner outside on the patio.” 
You threw him a wink and made your way into the kitchen. 
Bucky finally got up and walked into your bedroom. Just as he imagined, the place was all white, gold, and pink. He actually laughed when he walked into the bathroom and found it pale pink as well. He’d grown to love it too by now. 
You were busy at the stove, making your best seafood pasta, when you felt strong arms wrapping around you from behind. 
“How’d you like my bedroom?” You asked, smirking already as you pictured him in your very girly space. 
“It’s very pink. The bed looks comfy,” He whispered into your ear, “I’m gonna fuck you in it later.” 
You chuckled and passed him another glass of wine. As you turned to face him again, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. There he was, one of the scariest men you knew, standing in your grandma-core kitchen, wearing a fluffy white robe with pink clouds on it. 
Bucky rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t comment on it. I can already hear Sam laughing his ass off and he’s not even here.” 
You laughed even harder before you kissed his cheek. “It suits you.” You said. Then you handed him a couple of plates and pointed at the patio which could be seen from the kitchen window, “Can you set the table?” 
He finished his wine and then mumbled on his way out like a grumpy old man, “First close the bakery, now set the table,” He shouted from outside, “You know, if this whole thing was your elaborate plan to hire me as your domestic helper, you could’ve just asked, babygirl.” 
You laughed at him from inside the kitchen. You shook your head as you watched him. Wearing your fluffy robe, setting the small table on your patio. The view of the ocean from that patio was to die for, and the setting sun was just sublime. The golden lights you’d hung above the cute little dining area added to the cosy atmosphere. Now with the weather a lot nicer than it was hours ago, you could hear the small town coming alive again. Voice and laughter, children cycling down the cobblestone. 
And Bucky. Bucky was here too. Winking at you from the patio. And you thought your life had ended when your parents disowned you. You scoffed at the thought. Then you thanked whatever god was listening for bringing Bucky back to you. 
— 
During dinner, Bucky filled you in on what he was up to while you were gone. And you did the same. One bottle of wine turned into two, then you and Bucky laughed at random things while you did the dishes. 
Then you found yourselves in your bed. And like he promised, Bucky made love to you there as well. 
His muscular body hovered above yours. He looked down at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes as you undid the ridiculous robe to let his cock out. He was hard already. 
“Think I like you a lot in this robe.” You teased. 
Bucky laughed before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he parted your legs and slid into you.  
You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly. He was nice and snug inside you, stretching you out in a way that had you whining and whimpering under him in no time. 
Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head on your pink covers as he sped up into you. Your eyes rolled back once he started moving in and out of you. Taking his sweet time, loving the way his warm skin rubbed against yours. 
He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly. “I love you.” He breathed against your mouth. “So fucking much.” He kissed along your skin and moaned into your ear as he sped up. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” 
“Oh Buck,” You smiled up at him, “I love you.” 
“You’re mine.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you as he made you come again. 
“And you’re mine.” 
— 
You woke up some time in the middle of the night, thirsty after all that wine from earlier. But the moment you sat up to get out of bed, Bucky woke up too. Asking in his groggy voice, which you had never heard before but concluded that it was kind of hot, “Where are you going? What is it?” 
You smiled and kissed his forehead while getting out of bed, “Just thirsty. I’ll be right back.” 
Bucky got up after you, getting out of bed as well. “I’m coming too.” He said, “I worry this girly room might engulf me if you leave me here alone.” He joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he followed you out and into the kitchen. 
Truth is, he didn’t want to be apart from you for even a second. 
You handed him a glass of cold water while you put some water to boil to make tea. Some green tea should put the two of you right back to sleep, you thought. 
So there you were in your cosy kitchen, wrapped in a soft blanket. Bucky leaned against the counter watching you. He was shirtless, just in some white, cotton pyjama pants that you lent him. They didn’t fit him at all but something about him in your clothes made him seem adorable. 
You were both quiet. But you could feel Bucky thinking. He looked like he was trying to find the right way to ask you something. You didn’t know what. But he had that little frown on his forehead. You wanted to kiss it away. 
“What is it?” You asked. 
Bucky avoided your eyes, choosing to stare at the floor instead as he asked, “Do you think… I mean, would you ever come back home?” 
Ah. The few moments of silence which followed were heavy. You didn’t like how that question put some kind of metaphorical distance between the two of you. 
So you took a few steps and leaned into him. You placed your hands on his muscular, toned chest and said, “This is home, for me.” You gave him the truth. “That city was never home now that I think about it.” You smiled faintly, “The only good part was you.” 
Bucky nodded. “So,” He began, then stopped to clear his throat and spoke again, “You won’t ever leave this place?” 
You slid your hands up across his skin, feeling the warm, strong muscles underneath your palm. You traced his collar bones, then his neck and finally cupped his face in your hands. He wrapped his arms loosely around your middle. 
“I love it here, Bucky.” You stated. “It’s quiet, and peaceful. It looks boring at first but it’s what I’ve always wanted.” You said. “Plus my grandparents left me this, it’s all I have of them.” You paused for a while, hating that look of hurt in his ocean blue eyes. “I won’t leave. This is my home now.” 
Bucky was quiet. Even his breathing was slow. 
You let go of him, took a step back and said, “Maybe you should head back.” It felt like the words sliced you from the inside. It hurt to even utter them. “You have a life there.” You gave him a sad smile. Followed by a faint chuckle. “Unless you want to take up fishing then I’m afraid there’s nothing for you here.” 
He scoffed. “There’s you.” He said as if that was more than enough. 
“Bucky.” You warned. 
He shook his head, then reached for his phone which he’d forgotten in the kitchen earlier tonight. “Sam will probably fly out here to beat me up when I tell him.” He spoke, none of what he said made sense to you though.
“What are you–,”
“And he’ll have to work twice as much. But he’ll do great, I know. He’s Sam after all, strongest man I know.” Bucky carried on, ignoring your questions as he typed away on his phone. “I’ll do as much as I can from here, maybe fly back to the city once or twice a year to show my face.” 
“Bucky,” You warned again, “What are you talking—,” 
Bucky continued, cutting you off each time you tried to get a word in. “I’ll have to call my people, actually I have a lot of phone calls to make if–,” 
You cut him off this time, stepping closer to him again and grabbing him by his broad shoulders. “What are you talking about?” 
Bucky gave you a lovesick smile. “Well if you’re not going back to the city, neither am I.” He answered. You froze. He continued. “I’ll have to buy us a bigger home somewhere around here. We’ll keep the apartment and bakery of course, but maybe we could use some staff to help with maintenance and to keep the bakery running.” 
He made a mental, makeshift plan while you had silent tears streaming down your face. 
He continued, “We’ll get you back in uni, whichever one you want and whichever offers distance learning because there’s no way I’m letting you live on some campus away from me.” He paused, then said, “I’ll have to actually take up fishing. Maybe I’ll buy a few boats, you know I always wanted to be a yacht broker.” He sounded almost… hopeful. “Retirement sounds nice.” 
You sniffled. “Buck…” 
Bucky kept talking while he gently caressed your back. “I’ll have to learn French,” He groaned, “At this grown age.” He added. “I’ll have to know what's a chocolate croissant and what’s a pain au chocolat if I want to occasionally help out with the bakery. I can’t be uncultured while my wife is this connoisseur, you know? The locals will laugh at me.” 
“Wife?” You questioned through tears and a faint, barely there smile. 
He rolled his eyes. “Baby, I’m wearing your clothes, sleeping in your girly room, eating off of your floral plates.” He explained, “If you don’t marry me, I will lose my reputation.” He joked. 
You laughed, and sobbed as you threw your arms around him, hugging him as tightly as you could. 
“You don’t have to do this.” You spoke through tears. Your heart felt so full, you didn’t know how to handle a man like Bucky changing the course of his life for you. All for you. 
Bucky hugged you back, kissing the top of your head. “I want to.” He said, “I have to. Otherwise you’ll run away again.” He teased. 
You laughed quietly. “I won’t.” You said firmly. 
“Good,” He sighed, squeezing you tightly in his arms before letting go. “Now I have to tell Sam.” He looked genuinely worried. 
You giggled, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Tell him in the morning.” You whispered, your hands already trailing down to the waistband of the pyjama pants. 
Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss you, deeply. “Okay baby,” He whispered, forgetting everything else as he got lost in you all over again. 
He made love to you right there in the kitchen, sliding in between your legs as you sat on the edge of the counter. Slow and gentle. Kissing you softly, making a mess of you as he made you come over and over and over again. Whispering against your heated skin, your wet, open mouth, “You’re mine…” 
“All yours,” You answered, holding him tightly. Your nails scratching down his back, your skin burning in all the best ways as his beard scratched it each time he kissed you. 
This time, he made you a different promise. 
“If you chose to run again, you better run for your life and pray I never find you, babygirl…” He whispered into your ear as he slid inside you again. His cock made it hard for you to focus on anything else but you tried your hardest to hear him out. “Because I won’t be this kind if I ever have to hunt for you again.” 
You laughed, but ended up moaning as he bit down on your other shoulder this time. Marking you as his again.
5K notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 3 months
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Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?
I wish I had the answer, nonnie!
Slip Inside
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.
“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.
He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.
Like you knew he was watching you.
“I love you,” he breathed into the room.
You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.
You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.
And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.
Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.
“Mine,” he whispered.
Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.
If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.
“You're mine,” he growled lowly.
Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.
You didn't know he'd come home tonight.
He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.
Only him.
He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.
You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.
And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.
He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.
He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.
But he had to make it last and make you come first.
With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.
He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.
“Bucky?” You mumbled.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”
You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.
“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”
You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.
“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”
Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.
He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.
You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”
“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”
He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.
“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.
He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.
“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”
Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.
“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”
Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.
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We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
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