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georgiapeach30513 · 5 months

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Inside Her Fantasy, Part 2

Summary: You and Ransom can't stay apart

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: adorable

Warnings: mentions of sleeping together, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Uncle Ranny!” Charlie shouts walking into the box of the Gillette, “Is this your box?” The little girl tugs on Ransom’s arms, but he shakes his head no. “I didn’t think this looked familiar. Oh my god!! Maevey, she’s going to be right there. Nixie, lookie, bubba, right there is going to be your future,” Ransom turns his head quickly, and the little girl smiles up at him, and turns back to her baby brother with a giggle.

“Nixie, if Ransom and her get married, she will be your aunt. Shh, don’t tell Ranny that secret. I don’t think he knows.”

“It was nice of her to get all of us in here. Bucky, you got Nixon’s headphones, right?”

“Yes, ma’am, Sarge. Nixie boy has got his ears, and he’s going to be dancing all night long, and then we’re taking all four of the kids home,” Bucky’s wife rolls her eyes, knowing that Ransom wouldn’t be going home with them. She heard her daughters tell her all about meeting you. He was smitten. Even now he is nervously staring at the stage. She just could see the difference in his eyes. He was interested in more than what you could offer him.

“Daddy, you don’t have four kids. Mommy are you…?!”

“No,” she says, putting her hand over Charlotte’s mouth. Walking over to her eldest daughter who is staring dreamily at the stage, “Maeve, you okay, baby?”

“I actually get to see her. Mom, she invited us here. I know that some people think it’s a big deal to be Bucky Barnes’ daughter, but this is a big deal. She’s going to be right there on stage, and…I’ve been a fan since I was Charlie’s age.”

“How long has this girl been performing?” Bucky grabs Nixon out of his wife’s arms, and places him in the baby carrier, letting the little toddler stare out at the stage as well. He turns around to peer up at his daddy, and pats his hand over his mouth, while Bucky kisses it softly.

“First off, let’s call her a woman. Secondly, she now has ten albums, and her first single went number one when she was sixteen,” Ransom interjects, getting the biggest smile from Maeve. Yes, Ransom had to do some research on you. It was for his nieces completely. It had nothing to do with himself.

“So she’s more famous than you, buddy. Oh, this is great. She gave you pity seats,” Ransom shoots an irritated glance towards Bucky. This wasn’t helping his nerves at all.

“No, her didn’t,” Charlie stomps her foot, staring up at her dad. “Her gave this box to me and Maevey, her biggest fans. Do they have chicken tenders tonight?”

Bucky’s wife goes over to check on her oldest daughter. Her eyes staring owlishly at the stage, still in a state of shock. Ransom wanders around aimlessly. Sitting down, only to stand back up, while Bucky and Nixon watch him. “Drysdale, you okay, buddy?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Never seen the stadium from here before. It’s nice. Spacious. That’s a giant stage. And it’s just going to be her up there. I’m out there with all of you, and…”

“You seem nervous,” Ransom shakes his head, but has to look away from his friend. “You met her for just a minute,” he remembers the feeling of knowing he had found his one. And sixteen years later, she was still his one.

“She’s different,” Ransom pulls at his collar when the lights in the stadium start fading. “She’s…America’s sweetheart. They all love her. And I’m…”

“America’s slut.”

“Shut up. I don’t — I mean I have, but not all of them. I enjoy a woman’s company, they just get annoying really quick, and if they have a laugh I can’t stand all they get is a peck to the check. Ya know?” Bucky nods his head, not fully understanding what was going on through Ransom’s head. “I just…”

Everyone turns to the door when a woman in jeans comes in. Nodding to everyone present, “Hey, so I was told to inform you guys if you’d like to stay after the concert, she has a few days off before her next stop, and…”

“Yes!” Sarge shakes her head, looking at her oldest daughter. “Mom, why not?”

“This is a three hour concert for just her set. Nixon and Charlie need sleep, and so do you.”

“I’m not a baby!”

The woman clears her throat, demanding attention again. “She will be off for a few days. Maybe Mr. Drysdale can handle waiting after the show for her. She would really like it if you waited.”

“I should really help them get the kids in bed,” Bucky playfully nudges Ransom’s leg, while all the girls turn to gawk at him. Maeve especially, realizing that Ransom was blowing this for her.

“Maybe you didn’t understand, Mr. Drysdale. It wasn’t as much of an ask as it was a request. Please, you want to wait for her. She normally doesn’t take long to get out of costuming, and the eyelashes come off, and the makeup toned down. It would be in your best interest to please just wait,” she gives a final nod before leaving the box, and Maeve walks to stand right in front of Ransom.

“She never talks after a concert. She’s interested. Don't ruin this for us. I need you to stay here and wait for her, okay?” Her head gives him a few nods as she raises her eyebrows.

“Us?”

“Ran, she is perfect. You can tell by her lyrics that this stage is just her job, it’s not who she is. Just don’t ruin this for us. I would love for you to spend the next few days that she has off with her. And then you can bring her over to the house because you always sleep in Charlie’s bed.”

“Yep, you do, Ranny. You need this. You don’t need to have twinkle toes no more. You need to sparkle!”

Ransom takes a deep breath as he paces the room. Wandering back and forth, and questioning what it was that you could want him to linger in the box for. He’d never seen Gilette like this. Not from this angle or it lit up with sparkling lights the way it was. You were even more incredible, and he questions what it was about you.

Ransom was in fact a simple man. And you had all this glitz and glamor up on the stage. Singing to a sold out stadium. Just you. Sure he’d played here to a sold out stadium, too, but with a team. These people came to see you. His honorary nieces were infatuated with you, and they weren’t the only ones.

A few times he thought he caught you looking up at their box. Of course you would know where they were. He told himself you were looking at Charlie and Maeve, but he hoped it was someone besides little girls. And hopefully it was a man that wasn’t married and 6’5”, and named Ransom.

He sits down, and stands back up again, starting to get nervous. You had forgotten and made him a joke by waiting. How long exactly did it take to get here? The stadium was empty, and janitors were starting to clean everything, and he was left here remembering your silhouette. Imagining you were making your way to him. Start with a playful conversation, and both of you would counter each other with quick remarks.

It was starting to feel like being in school when you would pass secret notes to your crush while your teacher droned on. He hadn’t even properly met you. He felt like he just stood there and stared at you while you smiled this beautiful smile at him.

“Ugh,” he groans, starting to head towards the door, but instead you open it. Giving him your beautiful smile. That’s what had taken so long. Gone were the fake lashes, red lips, glitter, crystals and larger than life woman. She was replaced by someone that seemed normal. Jeans and a shirt, but still the prettiest smile.

“Sorry,” you giggle as your eyes flick down his body. “I don’t like leaving the dressing room in her clothes.”

“Her?” He asks, a bit confused.

“Yeah, her. That girl you saw on the stage. That’s not really me. I change when I walk out on the stage. But then I take off the costume and makeup, and I become me again. Just a simple girl.”

He pauses a moment to smile and nod. His eyes trailing up and down your body. It was the same person, and yet so very different. “I love to sing and perform, but I love being me most of all. Are you like the cocky man that’s on the football field? Doing your little dances after a touchdown?”

You had watched some of his footage. You did care enough to learn about him and his career. So it wasn’t just him that was scouring the internet for interviews and clips to get a better idea of who you were, you did the same thing. Ransom starts to relax a bit more with this knowledge, “No, not exactly. The adrenaline — I get it. Why did you ask me to stay behind?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is I like to look at you, and the girls. It’s sweet. Real, and there’s just something that is enchanting about you. I can see by the way you’re looking at me you’re not used to having someone be so direct?” He chuckles, but it isn’t nervous like you had expected. Like the others always were.

“I don’t see the point in beating around the bush. I’m attracted, but it was how you were with those girls that really did it for me. And the baby?”

“Nixon. He’s my little linebacker. Well, one day. As soon as his legs get situated. He’s going to be unstoppable. He’ll be bigger than his dad. But first he’s gotta walk. He will though. He’s our rock. Bucky and his wife, we call her Sarge because she runs a tight ship, but they’re good people. Great parents. She had Maeve when she was sixteen, and they’re still together. They beat the odds, and made it, and have this beautiful life, and…you don’t want to talk about them.”

It was quite the opposite. Ransom’s eyes light up when he talks about them. Most men just wanted to quickly get you in their bed, but Ransom was talking about his family. That’s what they were. Teammates second. He respected their marriage, and loved their children. He was good with them.

“I have a mom. She’s very supportive. My dad’s an ass. But she wasn’t always the most loving. She was there, and made sure my education and sports was always top notch. Never did without, and she went to every game. But there’s something about the way Sarge and Bucky are there physically, mentally, and emotionally there for their kids. Even with Nixon. They divide their time, and god, I love those kids, ya know? I am sorry.”

“You’re fine,” your mouth turns up in the biggest smile as you watch him. “It’s cute. It’s a good quality in a man that wants a family.”

“Do you want a family?” He blurts out too quickly, and wishes he could take it back, but instead you nod excitedly. “What’s yours like?”

“I never knew my dad, but my mom — she’s amazing. I’m glad I can…well, I can make sure she has the best of everything that she needs. The Barnes and I are alike like that,” there was definitely more to it than that. Ransom could tell, but it was something you didn’t elaborate on. If you wanted him to know, you would have said something.

“I couldn’t have dreamed my life being like this, ya know? I thought I would be a music teacher with four kids by now. Life has a funny way of going, and telling you what it is you will do. Not what it is you want. I was gifted with song and being a storyteller, you were gifted with agility and strength, but that doesn’t guarantee we’d end up here.”

You and Ransom talk back and forth a moment before your hand presses up against your stomach, and a loud rumble echoes into the box. “How much time do you have?” Ransom asks with a devilish grin.

“I don’t leave Boston for another couple of days. And then it’s on to the next city.”

“I think you need food, don’t you?” You would love food. But there was always an entourage that went with you out in public. You wanted time with just Ransom.

“I think we’re going to have to sneak away from my security.”

“Don’t worry,” he stands, and offers his hand down to you. “I know how to get out of here undetected. Just make sure they know you’re safe. I really don’t need to get arrested for trying to kidnap you. Tell your PA.”

“Yeah, she’ll understand,” smiling you give June a quick text as you lift your hand up to Ransom. Looking down at your wrist, he smiles, tracing his thumb over the crude friendship bracelet he made. “I think you need to make me another one. I don’t need your phone number to get out to everyone.”

“I’ll make another one when I see my number in your phone.”

“Deal. Shall we go get some food?”

“Our chariot awaits, rosebud,” you pause as you look up at him serenely. Trying to hide the soft grin that was threatening to sneak up your throat. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No. My mom used to call me her little rosebud when I was little. Said one day I was going to bloom into a beautiful rose. That is the title of my next album.”

“Well, how about buddy? Bud? Or I can use your name. Sorry, I keep putting my foot in my mouth.”

“I like Bud. But I like you talking to me more,” it was settled immediately. You loved hearing his voice. A deepness that rumbled out of his chest. Sounding a bit burly, but enough playfulness to make you giggle constantly. The way you bashfully keep biting at your lip, and feeling your cheeks heat up. Wonderstruck. He had captured you in the most pure way. How was he able to do that? He wasn’t even a jerk. He was pure.

“Ransom, it’s getting late.”

“It’s just two in the morning,” he smiles from across the table from you. His leg was propped up on your side of the booth. Any other man would have made you feel trapped, but with him, you wished he would close the gap and sit with you. It was late, but you didn’t want it to end.

“Are you tired?”

“A bit. I did have a three hour show.”

“Oh, but I got to wear a color changing bracelet and dance with the cutest four year old ever. But if you’re ready for our night to end I can take you to your room, or you can sleep in the most comfortable bed in all of Boston.”

You gulp as you look at him. You wanted him, but didn’t want to ruin the innocence of the budding relationship just yet. He was ready to take you to bed, but you could always set the boundary of just sleeping. You were tired, and just talking about it had made you even more so.

“This bed is so comfortable you’ll feel just like a princess.”

“On one condition,” you answer, leaning forward, and he meets you halfway across the table. “No kissing.”

“I can agree to that if you agree to my terms,” cocking up your eyebrow, you give him a short nod. “You don’t fall in love with me the first night.”

“Done,” your sweet giggle is music to his ears, even if he was slightly offended you wouldn’t fall in love the first night.

“You said that too easily, Bud. What happens if you do?”

“Then you get a kiss,” you give his foot a little push as you start to get out of the booth. Turning back to look at him. You wouldn't fall in love on the first night. That was just silly. You were creating a bond with him, but not like that. “Take me to the best bed in the city.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Ahhh!” Charlie screams as she points at her bed. “Ahhh! Daddy! Daddy! Ranny has twinkle toes, and he’s not alone! Daddy!!” Groggily you groan, burying your face even deeper into Ransom’s chest. This was not the wake-up call you were promised. “Daddy! Maevey! Mommy!”

“Psst,” Ransom’s arm holds you tight to his chest as he wiggles his fingers towards the tiny girl, “Charlie, baby, can you just go play with your dolls or something?”

“You have a woman in my bed, Ranny! And my dolls are…oh! My! God!” You look up at the little girl with a tiny smirk before nuzzling back into Ransom. He didn’t lie, this was the best bed in the city. But you think it had more to do with him than the bed itself. “Maevey!”

Charlie screeches as she runs from her room. Ransom’s arms go above his head as he stretches, and then back on you, pulling you even closer to him. “How did you sleep?” He doesn’t even attempt to get too close or make you uncomfortable. You assume it won’t be long until the entire Barnes clan returns.

“This was the best sleep of my life,” you weren’t even exaggerating. You had a six year relationship, and nothing felt better than Ransom’s arms.

“I think it’s because you had a big man as your pillow.”

“I think it was the pink canopy. These blankets really are so soft. Hey,” you smile up at Bucky holding his son, followed in by his wife, and the littlest girl. But when Maeve walks in, gasps, and walks back out you stifle a smile. “I was told this was the best bed in Boston, and that I would get blueberry pancakes.”

Everyone just stares at the two of you, and you clear your throat sitting up. Still in last night's clothes, and so was Ransom. Knocking his arm because you two had only slept two hours at most. “Guys, I believe we all met yesterday. But she has a new name, Bud.”

“It’s short for rosebud.”

“I’m going to make some blueberry pancakes I suppose. Charlie, baby, come help me,” Charlie shakes her head no, refusing to look away from you. “Charlotte Anne Barnes, now. Daddy, you keep Nixon,” the little girl gives you a bit of a wave before following her mother out the door.

Bucky grabs a chair from Charlie’s table, and sits down, staring at you and Ransom. “Guys, need I remind you that when two people love each other, sometimes babies are made. You two just met, you don’t love each other, and I would love it if you weren’t making babies or practicing making babies in my daughter’s princess bed, and…”

“We didn’t even kiss, Buck,” Ransom yawns, his sinewed arms stretching above his head again. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Did you have twinkle toes?”

“No, and I resent you asking,” it was like watching a tennis match. The two of them barely breathing before responding to the other. They were just like siblings.

“Then why are you here?”

You nervously look at anything that isn’t Bucky, mostly staring at the little cutie he had in his arms. His four tooth grin is looking at you. “I feel comfortable here, Buck. I just…”

“Bud? You mind giving me and Ransom a moment? Kitchen is down the stairs and directly to the left. I’m sure Sarge would love some help,” giving him a quick nod, you jump up. Stopping in the door to smile at Ransom. You are so tired, but got the best sleep of your life. Other than this moment, it feels right.

Bucky doesn’t say another word, until you’re completely out of earshot, and then he narrows his eyes at Ransom. “Ran, what the hell man? You bring a stranger into my home with my kids. And you’re in one of their beds.”

“She was asleep in Maeve’s room. So I didn’t bother going into the guest bedroom.”

“You have a home.”

“I have a house. And it’s empty,” realizing why Ransom was always here makes Bucky slowly nod his head. “I want what you have, so I stay where you are.”

“You want my family?”

“I want a family. I don’t have to be the father or husband. I just feel comfortable here. And she…we didn’t want to say goodbye, and if I took her to my house it would have been pressure to sleep together, and I want to. But I want to wait, and she’s incredible. She’s funny, and she’s…”

“You didn’t besmirch my daughter’s bed?” Ransom repeats the question as he laughs, shaking his head at the random word Bucky used. “Here’s the deal, pal, you brought her into my kids’ lives. She better not be a casual fling. Maeve loves her, idolizes her. Charlie loves anything Maeve does, and Nixon’s a flirt. Did you see him bat his eyes at her? You involve my kids and this becomes more personal.”

“If I involve your kids it means more to me than a night. You know that right? Those are my girls, and Nixon is going to be my linebacker, and I like her, Buck. Her laugh, she hums in her sleep. She fits perfectly in my arms. I like that.”

“Let’s go get some blueberry pancakes,” Bucky sighs. It was enough for him to realize Ransom wasn’t playing a game. If he brought Maeve around, then it was serious. Charlie is one thing, but Maeve is his princess. The first child Ransom had ever been around. The man that Maeve would run to over her own father.

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t kiss,” Bucky would have to call that out.

“Yeah, well, the princesses were staring at me. Cinderella is knocking me off my game. And I think Peppa was looking, too.”

You turn around from your conversation with Sarge when you hear Ransom’s voice. Looking back at her before you skip over to him. Looking up at him with the biggest smile. You liked the Barnes’, too.

Making sure no one is looking at your arm around his neck, pulling him down to your lips when you give him a chaste peck. “What was that for?” He asks with a smile, wishing he could kiss you again. Longer. Make it last. He didn't ever want to let you go.

“I owed you,” you sheepishly answer. Licking your lips just to taste the slight cherry flavor of his chapstick. “Last night was enchanting. I want…would you want to go to the next show?”

“You owed me?”

“Don’t make a big deal about it. But I always make sure to pay up my lost bets,” he looks adorable when his entire face turns pink. Going all the way to his ears when he realizes what you mean. He got the kiss because you fell in love the first night. No sex. No kissing. Just talking. And you wanted to talk even more.

“Yeah. Yes, I want to go to the next show,” you’d get with June to arrange him traveling with you. He was in his off season, and you were just getting started.

“Good. Bucky, you mind if I hold that handsome man?” You spin on your heels, needing to hold the sweetest little baby boy, while Ransom stares at his family loving you just as much as he is. Last night was enchanting. And he wanted every night with you. There are some things you just feel in every part of you, and he did. He would marry you. It was the first thing that Ransom knew with the utmost certainty, and he didn’t want to be away from you ever.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @fenixstar @astrorogers @musingsfromthemitten @patzammit @stillthatbetch @pandaxnienke

#inside her fantasy #ransom drysdale #pop star au #football au #football player!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fics #chris evans #chris evans character #knives out #bucky barnes

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thevillainswhore · 5 months

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New Tricks

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 🥹

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.

“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.”

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.

Part Two, Part Three

5K notes · View notes

buckyalpine · 6 months

Note

Hiii! I love your stories and I would like to put a request?

I watched videos about social experiments of men forcing themselves on women to see if someone would interfere. There is this one where a guy in a bike, saw it and then fixed his hair to look intimidating and intervened.

Can you do one where reader is a reluctant participant of the experiment with her classmates and they kind of force her to the role is the girl? Then just so happens Bucky was walking around and saw it and just fixed his hair first to look more intimidating before he intervened.

Then they try to tell him its an experiment but Bucky didn't exactly liked it because reader is still upset so he goes and take her away.

It can be fluffy and has a smut on the end or its your choice! Anything would be great because you are a great writer.

I hope you can see my request! Take your time too. No rush love! 💕💕💕

OKAY THIS IS SO CUTE We love protective Bucky. Now make it protective College!Bucky. Readers "friends" are awful in this. Bucky is everything here. We live for that fluffy, emotional smut. Also I'm so sorry because I'm 10000% sure when you said take your time you didn't mean take over a year to respond. I hope you see you bb

"C'mon y/n, it'll be fine!" Danielle whined, dragging you along with the others, ignoring the discomfort on your face.

"Why can't one of you do it" You frowned, tugging at the hem of your skirt, shifting uncomfortable while your friends continued to drag you towards the park bench. They begged you to be a participant in a social experiment they were doing for class and insisted you wouldn't have to do much. They didn't tell you you'd have to sit through someone pretending to harass you the entire time, waiting to see if people would intervene.

"Because it'll look more real this way. One of us can't do it" She rolled her eyes, making adjustments to your hair while her group members set up a camera in the bushes out of sight. They roped in one of the football players on campus, Johnathan Walker, to take on the roll of the man harassing you just to keep it more interesting, wondering if people would stand up to a more well-known figure, especially one that was clearly physically stronger than most.

"It's not that big of a deal. All you have to do is look scared while John pretends to keep asking you out on a date. Maybe some cat calling. either way its all fake so you just have to act. Ugh, don't worry, Y'know he'd never actually ask you out, seriously, enjoy what you can here"

You sighed, your stomach already flipping with anxiety while she laughed, running off to hide, throwing a thumbs up to indicate they'd started filming.

"Hey pretty girl" the blonde winked, taking a seat beside you on he bench, inching closer to you when you shifted away. "What's a girl like you doin' sittin' all alone" He threw his arm over the back of the bench to get you closer, trying to pull you right beside him. You stiffened, looking as uncomfortable as ever but you weren't acting.

"Just waiting for someone" You made up an excuse, giving him another pained smile while he nodded, asking you for coffee next, talking louder than necessary, hoping to gain some attention from people walking by. You shook your head, getting up to walk away, the smirk on his face growing, clearly really enjoying this.

"Hey, come back" he called after you, grabbing your arm and pulling you to his chest to keep you from running off. His hand moved from your arm to your waist, sliding down until it rested just above your ass. More passer byers started to notice but no one stopped, every person glancing without wanting to get involved, especially when it came to the football star and a girl no one really knew.

"John, stop" You whispered just enough for him to hear, your throat tightening when he gripped you harder, smirking at your struggle.

"C'mon darlin', don't be like that" He laughed, grabbing your ass, your heart starting to hammer in panic. You pushed against his chest, desperately hoping someone would intervene but he only continued to hold you closer.

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair after just taking it down after a workout, his black hair tie sitting on his wrist. He took a long sip from his water bottle while walking to class, noticing a few hushed whispers among people as he passed the campus park along with a small crowd watching something from a distance.

"Please let me go"

He frowned at the scared pleading voice he heard, making his way over to make sure no one was hurt. His jaw clenched seeing the sweet girl he recognized from one of his classes clearly in distress trying to get away from Walker without a single person trying to help. He saw red watching Walkers hands roam, pulling her back each time she tried to run away.

"Just one date, it won't hurt-

"Get the fuck off her!" A voice boomed across the park making John flinch, his hand dropping as if you'd suddenly burnt him. Everyone's eyes shot up to a very angry James Barnes marching straight towards you and John, the blonde swallowing nervously, stepping away from you.

Danielle stopped filming, worried Bucky would actually throw John over the bench, his hardened eyes and clenched fists a bad sign.

"Guys! Hey, relax it's just an experiment-

"About what?! Actually harassing her? You're disgusting" Bucky hissed, glaring at Danielle, shutting her up instantly. Bucky stepped in between you and John, his large frame sheltering you from your supposed friends. "Can't you see she's actually scared and uncomfortable. You should've stopped as soon as she asked you to"

Danielle's cheeks reddened from embarrassment, too scared to say anything back to the man who towered over her, slinking away when he turned to John instead.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, I should beat your ass for what you just did to her" Bucky growled while John tried to straighten his shoulders, getting pulled back by his bestfriend before he could open his mouth.

"He's captain of the wrestling team and coaches MMA, just shut the fuck up and walk away" Lamar hissed in Johns ear, throwing Bucky an apologetic smile, dragging his friend before things could get worse. Your friends packed their things and scrambled away leaving your shaken, biting onto your lip to keep from crying.

"Hey, you okay?" Bucky cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears that slipped out, his glare sending off anyone that tried to stop and stare.

"I'm-I'm fine" You said shakily, forcing a smile. "Thank you Bucky"

"Of course y/n" He spoke softly, wishing he could wrap you up in his arms so you'd feel protected. His heart broke seeing you continue to tremble, slipping his hand in yours, giving it a firm squeeze. "Tell me what you need, do you want me to walk you home?"

"Yes please" You whispered, grateful you had Bucky by your side, his stoic face, scruffy beard and shoulder length hair keeping everyone else far away while he kept you close to his side.

"Lets go" He nodded with a smile, knowing the way to your place after he'd walked you home plenty of times after you'd worked on papers together in the library. You pressed yourself into his side, your body relaxing when he moved to wrap his arm around you, strong, corded muscles holding you firmly. The walk to your place wasn't long; as soon as you reached the door, you felt a pang of sadness, already missing Bucky's protective warmth.

"What else do you need sweets, do you want me to get you anything? Coffee?"

"Could you-" you nervously fidgeted with your fingers, feeling silly for the request, deciding to drop in instead. "Actually its okay"

"Hey, no, please tell me, you know you can ask me for anything y/n" His baby blues pleaded with you while your eyes flicked to your feet.

"Could you stay for a little while? I- I just- I'm still-

"Of course doll, I'd love to" Bucky hushed your nervous rambling, happy to keep you company until you felt better. His cheeks blushed as he entered you home, already doing a poor job of keeping his composure together. He couldn't help the way his heart skipped a beat when you gave him a shy smile, the secret crush he had on you making him feel soft and fuzzy. He'd had a crush on you from the first day you were assigned as study partners for a project and it had only gotten worse ever since.

He toed off his shoes, dropping his duffle bag by the closet while you both made your way to the living room. He didn't let you get up, telling you to stay put on the couch while he went to grab you some water. You put on one of your comfort shows, curling up into his side while he wrapped his arm around you, the scent of his body wash and something distinctly him making you feel warm and safe. You hadn't realized you kept kneading into his side like a kitten while Bucky chuckled, pulling the throw blanket over you, letting your legs sit across his thighs.

"Feeling better?" He whispered against your hair, still stroking your back an hour later. You nodded, having crawled into his lap at some point during the evening, your head resting on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

"I like this" you smiled, toying with his chain, the simple action making Bucky nearly swoon.

"Me too, doll" He kissed the top of your head softly, "Anything else I can do for you? Just name it, I can make you dinner, we can build a pillow fort, have a sleep over" He teased playfully, making you giggle. You nuzzled yourself further into his hold, wanting the night to last forever.

"Stay with me tonight?" you whispered, peering up at him through your lashes before flicking yours eyes away, worried you'd crossed a boundary. Bucky cupped your face making you look at him, his thumb sweeping across your bottom lip.

"Are you sure, sweets?"

"Please" you nodded, forgetting how to breathe when his eyes bounced to your lips before meeting your gaze again, his self restraint slowly crumbling. He bit his lip, squeezing your waist a little harder than intended to hold himself back, eyes growing wide when your soft mouth pressed against his. His lashes fluttered shut, hands moving to hold your face, desperately chasing more of your sweetness.

His tongue slipped between yours lips, lacing with yours as the kiss grew more heated, groaning as he moved you to straddle his lap with ease. He didn't intend to take anything further, happy to spend the night kissing you while watching movies, his arms wrapping around your body.

"I need you" You broke away panting, your hands clutching onto his Henley, seated again his thick erection impossible to hide under his sweats.

"How do you need me, sugar" Bucky rasped, unsure if thats what you needed, doing his best to keep his hard length from rubbing against you. He let out a shuddered breath when you shifted, bucking your hips in the process, wriggling on his lap. "Doll, you gotta stop that, or else I'll-

"Need you closer" You whimpered, your arms wrapping around his wide shoulders, burying you face into the crook of his neck. His heady scent made you want to sink your teeth into him, having never felt more protected, needing to feel all of him.

"Are-are you sure?" He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling your soft lips pepper kisses up his neck to his ear. He wouldn't have a single problem if you decided to say no, still doing his best to hold back.

"Yes, please Bucky need you"

"Can't have our first time together on your couch, baby" Bucky let out a breathless laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist, hoisting you up with ease, making his way up the stairs to your room. He laid you down before settling on top between your legs, lost in holding you again. Clothes were thrown off one by one between needy, desperate kisses, until you were both left completely bare. Your slick was sticky between your legs, covering your thighs, too impatient for anything else, just needing Bucky to fill you right up.

Bucky could feel your arousal coat his length, keeping it slotting between your wet folds as he dipped his head down to take your nipple in his mouth, giving it a gentle tug while cupping your other breast. His hips rutted on their own. taking his time to love on you, dribbles of precum wetting your clit.

"Bucky, please, closer?" You pleaded, spreading your legs further, gasping when his tip caught against your entrance, your nails digging into his thick shoulders. His fell around your face like a soft curtain, gently tickling your face.

"You sure you want this, you can say no baby" He said sincerely, stroking your hair, ignoring the way your cunt was pulsing and throbbing against his dripping cockhead, greedy for him to put it in you.

"I want you Bucky. I-I've liked for for so long" You shyly confessed, biting your lip while he cooed, tipping your chin up to meet his eyes.

"I liked you too, y/n" He whispered, his cheeks blushing at your sweetness, giving yourself to him, and trusting him when you were at your most vulnerable. "So much love, been crushing on you forever"

He held the base of his cock, the both of you gasping as he pushed the tip in, your pussy instantly welcoming him inside you, pulsing for more.

"That's it, open up for me baby, good girl" He whispered against your skin, inching his cock in, the delicious stretch causing your back to arch off the bed, pressing your chest further against his. "S'good, taking all of my cock doll"

"Wan-want all of you Bucky" you moaned, squeezing your thighs around his waist as he bottomed out, his balls pressed against your ass. "Oh my god!"

Bucky started to move, giving you slow, gentle strokes, his body weight grounding you while you took everything he gave you. He'd wanted to make love for you for ages, bringing his hands to lave with yours, pinning you against the bed while moving faster, his cock swelling further.

"You-you feel so good sweets, fuck you're so precious"

"I am?" You whimpered, your voice melting into a moan as he hit that sensitive spot that made your body tremble, pleasure and emotion causing tears to slip out.

"So precious to me baby" He wrapped his arms tenderly around your body, kissing your tears away, his pace growing sloppy. "My precious doll. I'll protect you from anyone" His voice dropped an octave, fucking you with the utmost passion, pounding you hard and fast. "You're mine now, not gonna let anyone every hurt you"

You hiccupped a sob, your cunt pulling him back in, fluttering around his throbbing cock making it impossible for him to last any longer.

"M'gonna cum doll" Bucky whispered, his back pulled taut, giving you deep strokes, the head of his cock sensitive, "You gotta cum first baby, m'gonna cum so hard for you" His hand slipped between your bodies, rubbing quick circles around your clit, pleasure crashing down hard and fast.

"BUCCKYY" You cried out, your body shuddering as you started to clench around his cock, causing him to moan loudly, stilling as he cock hardened.

"Oh fuck baby, m'cumming!" He spilled himself into you, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts until he was milked dry, collapsing on top of you while you carded your fingers through his soft locks. He spent the rest of the night cuddling you, until you fell asleep in his arms, with your legs tangled together until the sun rose.

He loved how you looked, as the sun streamed through the blinds, a soft pout on yours lips as he traced over your featured, admiring each one. You peeked an eye open before closing it again, giggling when he pinched your side.

"What else can I do for you, baby" Bucky gave you a cheeky smile, making your face heat up, smiling into his chest.

"More cuddles please?" Your voice was muffled, sighing contently when he pulled the covers higher, closing his eyes again.

"Wouldn't have it any other way"

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buckets-and-trees · 11 months

Note

"You are nothing but a toy for me to fuck, little lamb. Now open your mouth for me, or I will break your jaw opening it myself."

👀👀👀

Well... as you know, this escalated quickly.

Title: Sacrificial Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Minotaur!Bucky x Botanist!Female!Reader Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: If it seems too good to be true, it always is. Always. Too bad you had to go to the remote jungles of South America to learn that lesson.

Content/Concept Warnings: DARK, lulled into a trap, human sacrifice, dubious consent/fuck or die, public sex/exhibitionism, size kink, monster fucking, face fucking/oral male receiving, vaginal fingering/fisting, breast worship, rough fucking, possessive/pet, praise kink, dirty talk, cum play, marking, cream pie, choking

Additional Notes: Thoty time with @rookthorne... she's only responsible for enabling me when my monster thirst reared its head. Wicked entry for @buckybarnesevents WEEK ONE of Hot Bucky Summer: "What Should I Wear?" and my third square of @buckybarnesbingo K1 "Fuck or Die."

When you told your friends, family, and former colleagues about the research grant and fellowship you had been awarded in the weeks leading up to your departure that it was too perfect, clearly somewhere deep in your bones you had known.

Eighty thousand dollars a year for three years, travel covered, visa approved, fully furnished accommodations provided, and a book deal for the discoveries and research studying flora in a largely undocumented and remote part of the jungle on another continent.

No scientist got a deal like that.

The only downside was the isolation of the location. They had electricity and running water, but you would only be able to go into town for internet every few weeks.

But the part of you that had grown up watching Indiana Jones, Jurassic Park, LOST, and the deep space missions of Star Trek who had far too many plants in your apartment and in your tiny office at the university had beat back that downside. It was only three years, and after living through the strange isolation of the pandemic, you knew you could manage this where you wouldn’t be isolated from people, just for short stints from your old life.

And though you had good pieces and good people in your life, you were desperate to get away from the suffocating societal expectations you felt like you weren’t living up to while so many others around you were – marriage, kids, white picket fences, career accomplishments, tenured professorships, promotions, raises, overnight influencers, travel vloggers.

This was something no one you knew had ever done.

Everyone raved about the adventure ahead of you.

Everyone had been impressed.

You had conquered in the accomplishments department with this for the year, no question. Your older sister with her third child on the way and your younger brother and his Premiere League football contract could wallow in your shadow.

This was a golden opportunity for a research botanist still in the early years of their career.

Kneeling on the ground in the middle of the jungle with your hands folded in your lap, head bowed, surrounded by a village of people who all should have known better than to follow ancient superstitions, with a dozen or more guns trained on you in nothing more than lingerie, you were living a nightmare.

All of it had been a baited trap.

No one would even question you falling off the grid before it was too late, and even if they did, these villagers could say one day you never came back from the jungle.

And it would be true.

One afternoon and evening, a good dinner, a sleep you’d yearned for thinking it was the jet lag, and then you’d awoken screaming as the first strip of wax had been ripped from your skin to discover you were naked with a half dozen people attending to all aspects of your grooming, preparing you to be their human sacrifice for the beast that lived in the jungle.

You were past the crying and pleading.

The no WIFI had been a lie, too.

Everyone in this small village looked and acted like they lived in the present day except for this one thing.

The belief that if they did not provide the beast his human sacrifice that they would not survive his terror.

“Then why don’t you just leave?” you had implored.

“This is our home, our loved ones are here, our ancestors are part of this place, and,” their leader and the head of the research foundation paused – almost faltered before continuing to explain, “the sacrifice of one stranger will guarantee us safety for many, many years.”

Everyone else had been instructed not to speak or listen to you from that point on in the preparations.

Nails trimmed, buffed, shined. Luxurious oil that smelled delicate and heavenly rubbed over every inch of your skin from the neck down. Hair partially braided to stay out of your face with the rest left natural. Color applied to your lips. They didn’t bother with eye makeup. No jewelry.

You had been wrapped up in a linen garment that was not quite a robe but not quite a coat to be transported to the ruins of an old stone dais in the thick of the jungle but deprived of it and then pushed onto the sacrificial area, left only in the sapphire silk of a bra and panties delicately lined with lace.

After hours being poked, prodded, and prepared by strangers in a strange land in a state of dread and disbelief, you thought you were numb.

You had endured too much to think you were hallucinating, but that you now all waited illuminated by literal torches with fire made this seem almost like a season of Survivor gone horribly wrong.

But then you heard the hushed wave of whispers at the rustle and rumble of something approaching through the thick vegetation of the jungle and adrenaline shot through your veins. It didn’t inspire fight or flight. You were frozen, fixated on the beast that would finally appear and seal your fate any moment now.

It made no attempt at arriving quietly, and when it finally appeared, there were collective gasps and cries from the people gathered to watch the sacrifice, though no sound fell from your lips.

The reaction was more than warranted, and a whisper of a thought flashed through your head that you were surprised no one had screamed. Maybe they were too terrified to scream, worried they would draw the beast’s attention. You wanted to scream, but your chest was gripped in fear.

The thick, furry legs of a bull, down to the cloven hooves, and a girthy tail with a tuft of dark hair at the end, swishing slightly as he walked. There was a loincloth tied at his waist that – rather than providing modesty – inspired anyone whose gaze lingered there to imagine the bulge nudging conspicuously beneath. Not that anyone’s gaze would linger there for long, for the rest of him was altogether imposing. Only the tallest of the villagers might hope to measure up to the base of his sternum – the sternum that anchored the torso of a man with shoulders more than twice the width of a human. Skin golden from the sun stretched over muscles that burst and rippled over his chest and shoulders, extending down his arms. You could see a litany of angry scars littered up and down his left arm.

Great bull’s horns rose and curled out of his head, possibly longer than your own arms. He had a mane of long, glossy but mostly unruly brown hair, with a couple of braids, that fell past his shoulders. Though the rest of his physique inspired fear, the true terror was perhaps the face of this man beast – it was terrifyingly handsome. Strong jaw, stubbled beard, a crease between his brows, and piercing blue eyes. His expression was drawn into an ominous grin.

He was in no rush as he walked into the ring of the villagers.

“Weapons down,” he growled.

There was almost no hesitation – their purpose had been to keep you in place anyway. Though the fear in the air was palpable, the tone of it seemed to be turning to some sort of reverent fear now for everyone else.

What inspired this unquestioned obedience from an entire people? People you’d seen with smart phones as abundantly among them as any other place on earth, though you’d been advised to shut yours down and leave it behind since it would be of next to no use to you in the jungle. They were right – but had left out the true reason and made it even more believable for you to seem only cut off to those back home, not lost and gone forever.

His enormous legs took the step easily up onto the dais, and his eyes were now fixed only on you. He stopped at the foot of the altar where you were presented for him.

“Well done,” this was meant for the people and their leader.

Then he reached out and the fingers of his large hands traced the strap over your left shoulder, then along your jaw, tilting your chin to look straight up at him. “And your choice is set?”

“My – my choice?” your voice cracked, but you felt it was a miracle you even found it.

Your confusion must have been evident, as his eyes flashed with anger and her rounded on the man who had facilitated all of this. “You did not tell her anything, did you?”

“I thought it best if –“

“It is not your job to think. The thoughtlessness of your people is why we’re here at all,” he snarled. Then he turned back to you.

“No time for stories now. I’m a minotaur called Bucky; a lost soldier cursed long ago to this state. Suffice it to say II must be satiated or the village will be subjected to bloodshed and desolation in the face of my wrath. They’ve chosen you, but you can choose your fate: fuck or die. I’ll take your throat, or I’ll cut it and drink your blood in front of everyone.”

Your chest heaved in trepidation. “How is that a choice?”

“Is it not clear to you?”

“Have others chosen death?”

He nodded. “Or they refused to choose.”

You opened your mouth then closed it again.

“Do you wish to die?”

You thought your tears were spent, but you could feel them welling in your eyes. “No.”

“Then claim your choice.”

You took a shaky breath.

“Say it!” he barked.

You flinched, but managed to spit out, “Fuck.”

“Perfect. Open up.”

“In front of everyone?” your voice was barely above a whisper.

He nodded. “They will remember and mark this sacrifice. It will be the reason they continue to breathe.”

You spread your knees a part so you were still kneeling and sitting back on your heels but his to take like this.

“That’s nice but not what I meant.” He tugged his loincloth and dropped it to the ground. You whimpered, afraid of the enormous size of his cock and ashamed at the lick of heat that flared in your core at the sight of him. He leaned down closer, put a hand at the back of your neck, and slapped the side of your face with his rigid length. “You are nothing but a toy for me to fuck, little lamb. Now open your mouth for me, or I will break your jaw opening it myself.”

This drew a handful of muted gasps from the onlookers. You saw a spark of something new in his eyes at this reaction.

He was pleased at their reaction.

You dropped your mouth open for him, nervous knowing you could not take all of him, embarrassed to be on such display in front of these strangers, but wanting to please him.

Wait, you thought, wanting to please him?

He shoved his cock into your wet mouth, shoving any other thoughts immediately out.

“Suck.”

You did.

“Just like that,” he said. The hand on your neck moved up to cradle and command the back of your head. He slowly began to fuck your mouth but with only a small motion, encouraging you to continue sucking just that first bit of cock as it was in your mouth. He still was in no rush. It felt like a power play – not wanting to show impatience or lack of restraint in the onset of this sacrificial claiming.

As he continued to speak now, his voice was low, intended for you. “Get ready for more.”

You looked up at him and tried to nod your head ever so slightly. He smirked, then he brought his other hand up under your jaw and to your throat, wanting to feel himself using you. He groaned and briefly closed his eyes. His tip hit the back of your mouth, and you spluttered. He pulled out slightly, giving you half a moment to recover, then forced the point again, holding himself there while you adjusted. He opened his eyes again, locking back onto yours, and a thrill of terror shot through you again. That was only the preliminary.

Now he would truly begin.

That look was all you got. Keeping the one hand at your throat, the provided the anchor to begin truly fucking your throat, not in a rush, but he picked up the pace. You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself. Your muscles initially gagged in protest, but he persisted, stroking your throat with his fingers as well, coaxing you to relax. Tears spilled down your cheeks. You concentrated on breathing through your nose and the steady gaze he kept trained on you. Soon you were taking more of him than you thought you could. He quickened his thrusts into your mouth. Your fingers stretched into the fur on his hips, mewling as he continued to use your mouth.

A few short grunts with the last thrusts were the only hint before he came, shooting his hot spend in your mouth with an unrestrained howl that shook the crowd to their core. There was no way for you to swallow everything, but, if anything, seeing his cum spilling down your chin made him grin.

Then he raised his head to address the villagers. “Remember that you gave this human to me. I will do with her as I please, and you will never see her again. Hope that you never see me again in your lifetime,” his voice carried, his power unquestioned in the clearing. “If you are lucky, the children you left home today will not see me in their lifetimes either. All of you go now. What happens next is not for your eyes.”

They followed his instructions without hesitation, all of them eager to be gone from this cursed place and their collective and ignored shame.

They left the torches – no desire for a souvenir.

And now you were alone with him, the light of the flames flickering over every inch of your exposed skin – which was almost all your skin, the lingerie only for show.

With the hand that was still anchored at the back of your head, he roughly angled you up sharply to look directly up at him, and tipping his own head forward he loomed in all his height above you, a truly searing heat in this look. “I meant what I said: you are mine, and I will never allow those vile villagers to see you again. You’re mine to do with as I please.”

He stooped down to claim your mouth in a kiss. His large thumb brushed the remaining spend from your chin and then moved down your throat to brush it over your collar bone, rubbing it in. He pushed his tongue between your lips, and you opened your mouth for him again. His tongue was too big for your mouth, too, but the more he subjected your body to the largeness of his being, the more you seemed to seep into him. He used his tongue to wrap around and tangle with yours, stroking it with his, now and then slipping it further down your throat, teasing, choking, mimicking the actions of his cock not long before.

When you were truly gasping, he chuckled darkly and pulled away, you leaned forward, lips chasing his, and then you shook your head, trying to restore some logic.

Failing.

Bucky easily tore away your bra with his brute strength. “Lay back for me, lamb.”

You shifted, legs aching from resting on them in that kneeling position for far too long. He noted the care you took in moving your limbs and rubbed the muscles up and down a few times. Then he pulled your hips to the end of the alter, flush against his cock, which was already semi-hard again. You hummed as he pushed against your still-clothed core.

His hands moved from your thighs up your sides, stoking the desire surging through your body, moving up your waist, thumbs brushing up against the underswell of your breasts, then flicking over the nipples, bringing them to little peaks before diving down to lave one of them with his tongue and suck, rolling, twisting, and pinching the other with his hand. Then he moved his mouth, and as he latched on to the other nipple, his hands worked the lace and silk panties off your hips and down your legs before tossing them away. He rutted up against you again, slow but persistent pressure against your core again, but now with no barrier he felt your arousal slicking up your entrance. When you began working your hips against him, seeking more friction, fisting your hands into his hair, he moved a hand between your legs, stroking over your labia and pushing one of his fingers right into your cunt, making you keen immediately from the force and fullness.

“Going to ruin you, lamb, but don’t want to hurt you.” He was brutal, but only because he was a monster by nature, not because he was heartless. “Gotta work your tiny pussy open so you can take me like you were meant to.”

As before, he was patient, making up for the impatience mounting inside you as he worked his fingers into you, circling, questing, stretching, twisting. When he pushed three fingers in he could tell it was a lot, but he knew he needed you to easily receive four if he was going to get to fuck you on his cock the way he wanted. All through it, he was relentless in overwhelming you in other ways, continuing to worship your breasts, but also murmuring praises against your skin, and threatening and promising filthy things that you couldn’t even respond to.

When you were thoroughly primed, aching for him, a mess with tears and begging for him, he finally realigned his hips between your legs, forcing your thighs wide to accommodate him. He bumped the head of his cock against your throbbing clit a couple of times, making your whimper repeatedly. You were lost as you lay splayed out above him, eyes tightly shut, hands reaching for him, desperately pleading his name over and over. He bent down to you again, relishing the feel of your breasts brushing against his chest for one more moment before sinking his cock into your cunt with a brutal thrust, pushing clear to the hilt, making you scream. It was wicked, and he knew it, but also knew how much he had worked up your body and your mind, and he was rewarded as you arched beneath him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, adjusted your hips, and then rocked against him, clearly seeking more.

Holding you at the precipice of pleasure for so long meant you crashed into your first orgasm very quickly as he pushed his cock in and out of your, “tight heat, little lamb, taking me so well,” he cooed. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, shuddering as he fucked your through it, groaning at the feel of your walls around him. “No one else will ever have this cunt now,” he vowed. “You’re mine.”

“Mine,” you echoed without thinking, not knowing it was exactly how he wanted his pet to feel about him. He pushed you over the edge into another orgasm and then spilled his hot seed inside you not long after. You were beyond spent, at that point, and less than a minute after he scooped you up, tucking your legs around his waist, you dropped out of consciousness, and went totally limp. He kissed the top of your head, then shifted you to sling you over his shoulder for the trek to his lair – your home. He’d secure you there, then go back to the get the wooden crate of the belongings you had shipped ahead of you and the bag you had traveled with – both were supposed to be deposited and waiting in a cave, the final part of his negotiations for acquiring his new human from that village and their foolish leader. Humans were delicate creatures with peculiar needs, after all, and he was determined to keep you content and fucked out until you were devoted to staying with him until the end of your days.

But the last hour had exceeded even his own expectations. He suspected he wouldn’t have to try very hard to keep his little lamb.

NEXT PART: Do You Remember

"haunting thoughts" on Sacrificial for the Dark Forest Fest

brief insight into what reader's life is like now

physical appearance of Minotaur!Bucky

easy and challenging parts of writing the fic

the writing of the story from concept to completion in one night

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #minotaur bucky #monster fucking #bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky barnes x reader #tw: dubcon #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bbb2023 #buckybarnesbingo2023 #hotbuckysummer2023 #terato #terato fic #minotaur smut #minotaur x reader #female reader

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delicatebarness · 19 days

Text

i think he knows | prologue

Summary: Following the town's typical good girl, Reader, as she finds herself drawn to the trouble-making bad boy, Bucky. Much to the dismay of her protective golden boy brother, Steve.

Warnings: None I don't think for this one. If you believe there is any that I should add please let me know.

Word Count: 947

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Series’ Spotify Playlist

A/N: Brooklyn isn’t New York Brooklyn, it’s just some random small town.

Tags: Let me know if you would like to be tagged for this series.

Brooklyn High School is the heart of the town. Nestled between white picket-fenced housing and greenery. It projected community pride and tradition. As did its golden boy, Steve Rogers, the star quarterback, captain of the basketball team, and straight-a student. His dedication to both sport and school made the town believe he could do no wrong.

Yet, behind the blonde hair and blue eyes, the facade of perfection was a protective older brother. Steve’s younger sister, you, was simultaneously his biggest weakness and most valuable strength. Everyone who met you loved you; A shining example of everything good and pure in the world.

Steve had a sense of pride swell within him, greeting his classmates with nods, smiles, and the occasional fist bump. It was evident how popular the eldest Rogers was by the turning heads and whispers as he walked by. He never took his eye off the ball, or you. Between the chaos of the hallways and Sharon’s daily routine of explaining her & Steve’s schedule of the day, Steve always made sure you got to where you needed to be. He guided you through the halls so you didn’t trip or bump into anyone while your nose was in a textbook.

Down the hall, Steve saw the one familiar face that he couldn’t bring himself to respect - James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Bucky was the opposite of Steve, known throughout town as a ‘rebel without a cause’. Steve wore a varsity jacket, Bucky wore a leather one. Steve drove a car, Bucky rode a motorbike. Steve trained for football while Bucky smoked under the bleachers. Steve was in a loyal long-term relationship, Bucky wouldn’t keep a girl around for longer than 3 dates at the maximum. While making their way towards class, Steve noticed that something had caught Bucky’s attention, you. Bucky’s gaze lingered on you as you walked past the group he was standing with.

Steve’s protective instincts kicked in, causing him to speed up. Pulling Sharon along with him, he shielded you from the brunette’s eyesight. Glaring back at Bucky, Steve gave a silent warning to stay away; causing Bucky to smirk back at the blonde before turning his attention back to his friends. Once around the next corner, Steve took the book out of your hand, breaking your trance. “Hey I was-”

“Keep away from Barnes,” Steve cut you off while holding the book above his head, just like he used to do when you were children and wanted you to play sports in the garden. “I don’t trust him.”

“Give it back, Stevie,” Using the nickname only you were allowed to use, you didn’t stop trying to reach your book, you cursed his height compared to yours. For many years you wondered where his side of the genes were from. You still remember the days when he had no muscles evident or even height; for a good year or so you were taller than him while being two years younger. Then one day, it was as if he transformed overnight. Suddenly, he was towering over you and looked like he had lifted weights every day of his life. You sighed when he gave you a stern look, knowing what he wanted to hear first. “I’ll stay away, we’ve never even crossed paths.” Satisfied that you understood, he gave you the book back before the three of you carried on with your journey to class.

You walked the rest of the way with your book clutched to your chest, noticing all the boys in the hallway avoiding eye contact with you, you appreciated that books and studying let you escape that feeling. They helped you live a life you could only imagine having. A restless reckless life, no routine, no worrying about grades; even though you did enjoy studying and continuing to learn. The “good girl” image wasn’t something you planned or wished for, you just were. Since you were young, your parents would always say they didn’t need to worry about taking you anywhere. You were naturally polite, and well-mannered, often putting the needs of your friends and family before your own.

By lunch, you realized that you truly understood Steve’s warning regarding Bucky. He had been playing with your thoughts all morning, distracting you from your learning. A teacher had asked what you would consider a simple question, the room expected your hand to go straight up into the air. However, you were too busy mindlessly doodling in your notebook. “Miss Rogers?” Your teacher had been calling, waiting for you to snap back into reality. She directed the question to you when you finally looked up at her.

The embodiment of everything you were supposed to avoid, the bad boy, rebel, “low life” according to your dad. There still seemed to be something about Bucky that had you intrigued. Of course, Steve’s warning wasn’t the first time he had your attention, the town is small and people talk. You knew about the tall, leathered-up, rider and the things he got up to around town. All the girls wanted to date him, the majority got to, at least for one date anyway. Not you, you didn’t bother thinking about relationships while still in high school. You always said you’d wait until you're at college and haven’t got a personal guard dog scaring off anyone who tried.

Looking up from your textbook that was laid down on the lunch table, your eyes met with him for a brief moment, your heart began to race. Had he been watching you the whole time? As if he could hear your thoughts about him, he began to smirk at you sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh, sh-”

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #steve rogers x sister!reader

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bucksangel · 3 months

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favorite fics rec list

hello! i wanted to share some of my favorite fics to make sure everyone else is aware of these amazing fics and even more amazing writers. go send them some love!

enjoy :)

Smut

Stucky

share your blessings // @kinanabinks (mafia!stucky)

summary: Bucky's always known that you're his biggest blessing. A God-sent angel from above. Who's he to keep you all to himself? warnings: Mob!Bucky x Reader established relationship, Mob!Steve x Reader, smut (buck gets cucked, daddy kink, degradation kink, oral sex, penetrative sex, voyeurism, overstimulation, creampie, objectification, fingering, spitting, blowjob, face fucking), slight angst, aftercare and fluff.

three's company by @sunshinebuckybarnes (avenger!stucky)

word count: 2.6k summary: you've been sleeping with them both in secret but once that secret’s out they present you an offer you can't refuse. warnings: pet names (sweetheart, doll), smut; fingering, double penetration. Fluff and feels.

Ari Levinson

always keep my heart safe // @witchywithwhiskey (ceo!ari)

word count: 10.7k summary: you're ari levinson's "maid" and you're harboring a crush on your employer, which leads you to act foolish when you're alone with him on a long flight on his private plane. warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established relationship, established consent/safe words, employer/employee relationship with feelings, pre-discussed arrangement, free use, size kink (very brief moment of pain from it), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, tiny bit of overstimulation, check-ins, discussion of relationship & feelings, romantic confessions, possessiveness, dirty talk, pet names (sugar), aftercare

halloween princess // @evansbby (sugardaddy!ari)

word count: 3.8k summary: Your sugar daddy decides to dress you up in a costume of his choice for Halloween. warnings: sugar daddy Ari, age gap, smutt, daddy!kink, ab riding, dirty talk.

praising you // @angrythingstarlight (lumberjack!ari)

summary: Ari loves to praise you, anytime, anywhere. warnings: praise kink, smut

Bucky Barnes

body workshop // @1800jjbarnes (mafia!bucky)

word count: 1.6k summary: Overhearing for so-called friends make fun of your "failures" in life made your loving mobboss boyfriend very unhappy. No one makes his Doll cry. warnings: Shitty Friends. Mention about putting on weight (which is normal). Mention of a standard. Dark thoughts. Reader hates herself. (I love you all so much.) James wants to lowkey kill your friends. Pet names. Swearing. Crying. Kisses. Hickeys. Little bit of man handling. Fingering.

new tricks by @sebstanwhore (virgin!bucky)

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

for the first time // @jobean12-blog (shy!bucky)

word count: 1k summary: It's been a long time for Bucky and his feelings for you are overwhelming in every way so when it comes to your first time...he's so soft. warnings: cursing, softness, fluff, fingering, oral sex (m rec), smut

are you bored yet? // @pellucid-constellations (frat!bucky)

word count: 8k summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to. warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky

buttoned up // @disturbedbydesign (professor!bucky)

word count: 5.8K summary: Even though you were one of the top students in his class, Professor Barnes had always been cold to you. You had tolerated his indifference all semester, but when his end-of-term dinner party invites went out and you weren't on the list, you decided it was the last straw—it was time to confront him about it and find out what the hell his problem was. The answer would surprise you. warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids). 18+ only, no minors.

Steve Rogers

ever since i met you // @witchywithwhiskey (bestfriend!steve)

word count: 5k summary: your best friend takes you out for a valentine's day friend date that ends with the two of you cuddling in a hotel room—and discovering you've both been hiding feelings since the day you met. warnings: smut with lots of fluff, dry humping, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine, baby), valentine's day smut/fluff, friends to lovers, love confessions

Dark

Steve Rogers

paved with good intentions // @navybrat817 (avenger!steve)

word count: 2.8k summary: When Steve Rogers sees you get close to his best friend, he takes matters into his own hands. If he can’t be your hero, he’ll be your villain. warnings: Rape/Non-Con Elements (do NOT read if this upsets you!), obsession, jealousy, hurt/comfort, Steve is not a good man in this fic.

Angst

Stucky

one more meeting // @myfictionaldreams (mafia!stucky)

word count: 5.6k summary: For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved. warnings: 18+ readers only, smut, murder, violence, blood, john walker has a temper, polyamory, dom/sub, threesome, subspace, pet names, sub reader, size difference, reader gets injured, daddy kink, sir kink, size kink, aftercare, praise kink, fluff, angst, vaginal sex, nipple play, cum play, clit stimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk

she's not mad // @subwaysurf45 (college!bucky)

Words: 9k Summary: Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. Warnings: Bucky has mommy issues, mentions of oral sex, nudity, angst, fluff, college!bucky, slow burn

Fluff

Bucky Barnes

wallpaper // @cosmicbucky (bestfriend!bucky)

word count: 1k summary: bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to warnings: fluff, nonspecific friends to lovers

mafia!bucky drabble // @angrythingstarlight (mafia!bucky bumblebee series)

summary: Bucky loves spending time with his daughter.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic rec #stucky #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #stucky x reader #stucky x reader imagine #ari levinson #ari levinson imagine #fic rec masterlist #my masterlists #𓆩♡𓆪 angel's thoughts 𓆩♡𓆪

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zenaidamacrouras1 · 5 months

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Now posting weekly-ish on AO3:

History of American Capitalism

A Stucky College AU by ZenaidaMacrouras1

A College AU in which Steve is a small history major and Bucky is the ･✧∘* ✧･STAR QUARTERBACK･✧*∘✧･ Steve is looking forward to his History of American Capitalism Class, though he's not sure what to do about the extremely handsome ✧･Star Quarterback･✧ who keeps sitting next to him during lecture. Look, Steve is just trying his best. Unfortunately, Bucky is too. May include: Jokes. Pining. Thirsting. Adorable boys who don't realize they are in love. References to US cultural events of the 1800s. Information about American football. Adopted sestras getting all up into Steve's business. You don’t have to understand American football or US history to understand the fic.

Rating: E

Word Count: Maybe 70k?

Chapters: 20?

Beta party! All the love to @booksandabeer and my pal tenmilestilts (on ao3 not on tumblr) for all their very appreciated labor and thoughtful comments that make me like all my fics more.

#stucky au #stucky fanfic #stucky fic #steve rogers x bucky barnes #wintershield #idiots in love

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mercurygray · 4 days

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So here's an alternate universe that zero people asked for:

Harding is shot down.

We know that Harding flew several missions, something that's not depicted on the show, probably for budget or story economics reasons. He flew Trondheim with Blakely, for which he was awarded a Silver Star, and Marienburg (the mission just before Bremen) with Brady. The next time he's on the flight roster is the November 13 raid on Bremen again.

Let's just say he takes that Bremen mission because it's personal now. He sat in that room after Munster and felt every single one of those empty chairs in his soul, and the very next time they flew that route, he decided he was going, too.

We know that there were multiple officers of fairly high rank who got shot down doing observation flights - when he bails out and lands there's nowhere for him to run. He's not young, and while he's in pretty good shape, his gridiron days are well behind him.

("Was it perhaps for revenge?" the interrogator asks with a smile as Harding scowls in his seat. "How quaint. I wonder how Mrs. Harding will see it. I hear Palm Beach is lovely this time of year. ")

The looks on the guys' faces when they see him in the lineup - shoulders squared, in need of a shave, usually very dapper uniform hardly dapper any more. "Couldn't leave you on your own, fellas," he says. "Place wasn't the same without you."

Harding's the escape committee kind - he and Bucky are alike in this. He and Clark don't get along very well. He also decides they need a football team.

("You gonna write her, sir?" Bucky asks one afternoon. "Captain Brennan." Neil stares and Bucky only shrugs. "Come on, sir, it doesn't take a genius." "Doesn't it?" "Not in here, sir." "You gonna write Lieutenant Callaway?" Now it's Bucky's turn to stare and Neil's to smile. "...that was mean, sir." "It didn't take a genius, Egan.")

#all the alternate universes

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winterspiderpurrs · 7 months

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Highschool AU

Football star Bucky constantly getting in trouble at practice for not paying attention.

Cross-country/track runner Peter, who practiced by running laps around the football field.

It takes a while for Coach Fury to realize the correlation.

#writing prompt #winterspider #peter parker x bucky barnes #highschool au #winterspiderpurrs

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notsopersonalcharlie · 3 months

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football star!bucky x reader and when his team is in the super bowl (obv with qb and team captain steve) you can’t do your normal half time ritual where you go down and meet him outside the locker room and when they lose the whole team trickles out dejected and they all mutter to you that they wish the venue had let you do your ritual because it was good luck and they could have won

edit: i literally wrote it the next day

#obv inspired by the super bowl #and brock purdy bc he’s a little cutie #disclaimer i am not a niners or chiefs fan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #football star!bucky

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impala-dreamer · 6 months

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Yes, it's that time again. As an oversized turkey thaws in your fridge and Mariah Carey starts doing her vocal warm ups, it's time to think about gifting something special to those you love.

Why not give the fanfic lover in your life a custom written fanfiction designed and starring Them?!

That's right, I'm opening up my commissions for a limited time this holiday season!

Imagine the joy on your bestie's face as they read about riding in the Impala with Dean and singing along to their favorite song! The magical feeling they'll get when Bucky rescues them and his prickly exterior softens at their touch... Or hell- get one for yourself and read the story you've always dreamed about but couldn't find ;)

So many possibilities and stories to tell!

Read on for more info and please, reblog to spread the word. <3

How does it work?

You send me a message and we discuss what type of story you'd like. If I think I can do it properly for you- it's a go!

You provide details about the character (you, someone else, multiples). Stories can be OFC, Actual People, or Reader Insert.

You leave me alone for a few days and when I return, you'll get a PDF file of your fic (usually including custom art) emailed right to you ready for gifting!

What fandoms are you writing for lately?

Any fandom can be negotiated provided I am familiar with it and feel like I would do the details justice. Ex: I've watched football, but I'm not gonna write a great football story bc I just don't get it. ;)

Fandoms I have written for and am comfy with:

Supernatural, Supernatural RPF (Mostly all ships!)

The Boys, The Boys RPF

The Walking Dead, TWD RPF

Marvel (Cap, Bucky, Thor, Wanda, Sam), Marvel RPF (Evans & Stan)

Criminal Minds

The Hunger Games

The Magicians (Ships too!)

The Winchesters, The Winchesters RPF

Daisy Jones & The Six (Billy Dunne)

Doctor Who (NuWho, minus 13)

Random RPF Actors/Singers

What Kind of Story Can You Do?

Anything. No, wait. I'm afraid you don't believe me. I mean... ANY T H I N G. You want hardcore smut that boarders on problematic? I'm in. You want the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed and would make Hallmark movies cringe? I got you. Angst? Dark stuff? General? Literally Anything you want. I only have one or two things I'm not comfortable with but that can all be discussed in private, and honestly, after almost 8 years doing this, no one's ever come close to asking for them so you're 1000% good to ask for whatever.

What's the bottom line here?

Well, your story, which will be anywhere from 1,000 - 20,000 words depending on how wordy I get, will be a flat rate of $20. This includes my full attention to your story from start to finish, accompanying art, specific detail inclusion, and an emailed PDF file that you can print out or delete, or whatever you want. It's yours.

I do not write for word counts, only the story. If your complete story can be told in 1k words, that's great. If it takes another 40,000 and we end up with a novel, that's great for you and I won't charge you any more for it! I'm more worried about giving you the best story I can than worrying about word counts.

Commissions are open now until Christmas Eve Eve (Dec 23, 2023).

I will only take FIVE commissions at any time, so best to get to me first. First come, first serve, then I go down the line.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I'm not scary.

You can also check out my Tumblr Masterlist for examples of my work incase you're unsure. And... just a reminder, Patrons get a discount!

Much love and wishes for an awesome end of the year,

Beka <3

FYI and Signal Boost, perhaps?:

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @djs8891 @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05 @because-imma-lady-assface

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thevillainswhore · 3 months

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The New Tricks Collection

An alternate universe starring two college students; Bucky, the star football player and Buttercup, his best friend’s little sister. Follow their main journey together as they learn their mutual pining isn’t one sided after all through an array of firsts.

New Tricks

New Tricks: Celestial Heavens

New Tricks: A Pure Love

Wondering what your favourite couple are up to? Discover a collection of drabbles and ficlets dedicated to the tales of Buttercup and Puppy and their everyday lives here.

Don’t see something you like? Send an ask! Bee and Pup are excited to share their story with you. 🌼🐾

What if Buttercup was the virgin?

#new tricks #new tricks masterlist #sebstanwhore #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

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Mwahahahahaha I had so much fun with this thanks for the request, xoxoxoxo I hope you love it as much as I did! Also I know some of my followers are prob not American so I did The Most Basic lingo because we are the idiots who don’t name stuff normally like the rest of planet Earth

Kink Bingo - Topping from the Bottom

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Chubby!Beefy!Subby!Bucky, Dom nerdy afab!reader, Bucky is a sweet lil bear who wouldn’t hurt a fly but sends men into the ground on a daily basis, Frank Castle is a tired roommate, pnv!sex, overstim, pet names, teasing, creampie, disaster Bucky barnes, college!au, football player!buck, fluffy as HELL

You weren’t sure where, how, or when you ended up in this situation.

To quote the Talking Heads, “Well. How did I get here?”

Except there was no fun song about water flowing underground. There was a very sexy man staring at you in the library who had just said something. You blinked again, fiddling with your pencil. The library was dead quiet per usual.

Bucky Barnes, resident slut, face morphed into confusion, blue eyes piercing. He asked, “Uh, you okay? Did you hear me?”

You cleared your throat and spoke, “Yes, problem 15. The key to research statistics is all in the equa-“

A huge hand slid across the table to close your book. The thud made you jump. Bucky apologized, flush high on his pretty cheeks. He laughed, “No, I don’t think you caught that there, teach.” You blanched, gaping like a fish out of water.

His huge, yet soft frame leaned over the stiff stable, belly indenting against the wood. Bucky popped his dimples with a charming smile. He reiterated, “I think you’re cool— smart and witty. Even though you’re a hermit. I wanted to see if you would come to my place with the boys for some drinks this weekend.”

Your face drained of color, utterly mortified. The memories of freshman year came flooding back. You began to pack your stuff, slamming and shoving away materials. Bucky looked up at you like a kicked puppy. He grabbed your wrist, god he was a gentle giant, “Hey? What’s wrong? No pressure at all!”

You glared up at the stupidly beautiful man and tried to sound strong, but your voice cracked as you informed the ass, “You were there freshman year. Watched me puke until someone took pity. Is that what you want? Bring the lightweight loser for a punchline? Not for me, bye!”

He was there then, same house too. The O-line always passed the same ratty place down. His hair was shorter, body less beefy, less weight but Bucky watched with a sheepish look, elbowing his blonde friend. You yanked out of his grip, Barnes frantically calling after you. Dumb brute was so big it didn’t take much for him to catch up. He looked down, hand rubbing his neck. “Look. I’m not like those dick heads. I should’ve done something. I’m sorry I ever hurt you in the past.”

You stopped, giving him a look, eyes full of tears.

He made a soft noise, pulling you into a warm hug. He reaped, “Oh don’t cry, please?” You didn’t want to admit but it felt like heaven with his soft stomach and huge arms. You warbled, “I don’t know if I can trust anyone, I- I just can’t do that again.”

Bucky rubbed your back and sighed, “I’m an idiot, I offered you out the only way I know how with girls. I don’t have the best reputation.” He took a stern pause. “But I really like you. So we can do whatever you want to and I’ll be down for it.”

You looked up at him in shock, croaking, “Really?”

Bucky grinned, “Yes really.”

A year later the Talking Heads sang in your head again.

Well, how did I get here?

Your very big, so wonderfully big, boyfriend was between your thighs. His own thighs, thickened with heavy muscle and that cute little layer of fluff quivered themselves. His cock was so hard it was purple, the leaking tip smacking his tummy. Your baby had a dick that would put porn stars to shame. Took about two weeks for you to get used to it. Beside the point, tears pricked at his wide eyes. Bucky’s hands kept their gentle grip but they shook.

He panted like a racehorse, even though you hadn’t let him fuck you yet. You got the poor thing riled up all in the library. Rubbing against him, promising pretty boys like him get to hump and fuck. You had to shove fingers down his throat to get the beefy man to hush.

Somewhere since your bittersweet beginnings, it was discovered James Buchanan Barnes was the biggest submissive, masochistic, certified freak seven-days-a-week slut. He’d made a reputation for making girls limp but the macho athlete truly loved getting ordered around.

He put the fanfiction you’d read to shame. It made everything ten times sweeter knowing your college football playing, big offensive lineman whined like a bitch when you played with his ass. All by his petite nerdy girlfriend.

You say ‘jump’, Buck is asking ‘how high’?

But currently you did want him to fuck you. You cooed, pinching at a soft love handle, “You need me now sweet baby? Can you handle it?”

He nodded in jerky motions, pleading, “Yes baby, I’ll hold it.” His pink lips trembled.

You softly held his gaze as you continued, “If you cum early that’s okay, you’ve been waiting so long. I know a slut like you can’t help it.”

Bucky barked, “No! I mean no- I’ll do it good.”

You leaned back, placing your arms on his built shoulders, pulling the brunette closer. You sighed, “You always do it good Buck.” It came across meaner than intended, your boyfriend’s jaw setting mulishly.

“Come on, come on now bear,” you urged, squeezing his traps. Bucky whined through his nose, huge hand slicking his cock with lube. You were wet enough but usually added extra lube to make everything more comfortable. Bucky let out a pained moan as he entered you. You wrapped your legs around his wide waist to usher the brunette on.

You panted as the blunt tip split your pussy open. Bucky mewled, “Mmm- you’re s-so tight.” You nodded and pressed kisses to the veins pulsing on his neck, the larger man gently lowering himself on top. He’d still get scared of ‘smushing’ you. The thick length of him speared your cunt, and then he was all the way in.

You panted and whined, gasping, “Big boyyy, oh fuck.” Bucky let out a string of unintelligible high noises, whole body shaking at the squeeze. Circling your thumbs at the sweaty base of his head you cooed, “Love that huge slutty cock of yours, mmm, can you feel how tight I am for you?”

He nodded, so overcome he’d lost control over his pitch. Castle would slam the wall from next door.

“Fuck! Babybabyohgod, can I fuck you now?”

You snickered, “I never said you couldn’t.”

He frowned at that, blues looking down in embarrassment. Baby couldn’t help but get a little stupid when his cock was involved. Bucky braced one hand next to your head, the other on your hip and drew back a bit. He watched the slide, scrunching his face in ecstasy.

Slap.

Bucky fucked back in, stuffing you tight with a lurid squelch. You moaned at the feeling of his heavy balls hitting your ass. You goaded him on further, moaning in delight at the friction. Bucky hoarsely groaned, giving you all he was good for. Which, granted, being a division one athlete can allow for a lot to give. If Buck wasn’t so sensitive.

You clawed at his brawny shoulders, crying his name, biting at lips and jaw. That cute little pouch under his chin was especially bitable. Bucky was drooling onto your tits, single-mindedly focused on fucking you. You met him thrust for thrust, rasping dirty nonsense, degrading nasty things.

Bucky whined, “Mm! Baby, oh- hah! You gotta stop, hngh, m’gonna blow.”

You rocked up into his stilled dick, shaking your head with a open-mouthed smile. You breathlessly laughed, “No way bubba, you said you’re gonna do it good. But I got it pretty boy.” You patted his stubbled cheek and writhed on his cock, rubbing your sensitive tits against his built chest.

Bucky whimpered and tucked his teary eyes into your neck, your hand curling around to scratch his scalp. He was barely moving, little thrusts as you worked yourself up and down at a brisk pace. This was your exact reason why you denied Buck’s requests to go to the gym with him.

You whined, “Fuck bear, love you, puppy packing like a stud. Stuffing my pussy so well. Shame I gotta do the work.” You got another agonized moan at that, Bucky attempting to find a rhythm. You squeezed him in warning, digging the blunt tip into your good spot. A big finger came down to swirl at your clit.

You smacked his ass, howling, “Good fucking boy!”

Tears wet your shoulder, sniveling and whining filling your left ear. You drew tighter and more frantic, screwing your eyes shut as pleasure mounted across your body. You slapped a meaty side again and hoarsely yelled Buck’s name, pussy clamping down on his throbbing cock.

He came with a warbling wail, you crying out at the same time. Bucky began to fuck again, you taking it as he pumped through the aftershocks, mewling, “Hngghhh- baaaaby- oh gooood!” You threw your head back and let him pound you, little ‘uh uh uh’ grunts forced out.

The noises were pornographic, bed creaking, Buck’s sobbing, hips slapping, and the slick sounds from your releases mixing. Bucky gasped again, the last of him cum spurting out and he collapsed half on-top of you, whimpering softly.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!,” came the inevitable angry yell of Frank, busily pounding the thin walls.

You smiled at the worn Bucky, cooing, “Did it good once again bear.” He managed to pull you two onto the side, him still sensitive and shivering from the shifting. He kissed you sweetly, blue eyes all gooey and soft. He rasped, “What have you done to me babe?”

You nuzzled his nose, pecking those pink lips. With a smirk you mused, “I don’t know, what do you think big guy?” His brows furrowed as the inevitable post-coital philosophy discussion began.

Same as it ever was, same as it ever was, David Byrne sang in your head.

#bucky barnes x reader #kink bingo #asks answered #chubby!bucky #sub!bucky #college!au #bucky barnes smut #bottom Bucky #dom!afab!reader

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lovelybarnes · 9 months

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Football and Flirting Masterlist

College football star Bucky Barnes is immediately enamored when he meets you. You? Not so much. But Bucky Barnes is determined. And the teetering-on-cynical views that you hold for relationships are about to realize exactly how determined he is.

based on this request

Football and Flirting

Found Waldo: Bucky searches for you in the crowd after a big game (request)

(Coming Soon)

(Coming Soon

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crazyunsexycool · 2 years

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Post-it

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: just fluff.

A/N: This is a college AU was inspired by a random picture I saw of people using post it notes to write messages in windows to other people in a different building. enjoy!!

Masterlist

The rumor spread like wildfire, Bucky Barnes was back on campus after being gone for almost a year and a half. Normally if a student left halfway through the school year no one would care or notice. But this wasn’t just any student. Bucky was the star player on the football team and the life of the party. So his absence was noticeable even to you. You didn’t know him personally or were in the same social circle but you had been at a few parties at the same time. It was hard to miss the dazzling smile, sparkling eyes and his flirtatious nature. So when the news broke out that he had been in an accident everyone was shocked. Once the news that he had lost his arm it’s all anyone could talk about.

Now so many people were waiting to catch a glimpse of him. You saw him first at the coffee shop early in the morning. Bucky had on a baseball hat, most likely to keep a low profile. He grabbed his coffee and turned towards the door, your eyes met briefly and you smiled at him as he passed. By the time you got to your first class of the day, a lot of people were talking about him. How much he had changed, how he was quiet and reserved, kept to himself. Some talked about his prosthetic arm, others wanted to know what the scars looked like. Their morbid fascination annoyed you to no end. But with your day full of classes you couldn’t really take time to dwell on it and you headed towards your last class of the day.

Rushing through the building to get to your English literature class before all of the seats were taken. You made it just in time, opening the door before the professor showed up. With a quick scan of the room you found the last few open chairs at the front and sat down. As you took out your notebook, pens and highlighters you felt someone sit beside you and you glance up quickly. Finding none other than Bucky sitting beside you. He still had on a baseball hat, low enough so that no one could see him. His eyes were glued to the desk and his own notebook in his hand and that’s when you noticed the gloves. It wasn’t cold enough out for gloves and it made you curious as to why he was wearing them.

The class went by quickly, professor Coulson went over the syllabus and assigned the first paper of the semester. However most of the class you spent looking over at Bucky out of the corner of your eye. It seemed like he was trying to make himself look invisible and as soon as the class was dismissed he was the first one out. You wouldn’t see him for the rest of the week.

The only interaction you had with Bucky was in your English class. You had made it early enough to get good seats toward the back and you saved him one. As he walked in he scanned the room only finding the same front desks available until you waved at him and pointed down. He moved quickly and sat down beside you, giving you a small smile and a thank you. After that day you would save a seat for each other, neither of you talked a lot, just the occasional hello or goodbye. Once in a while you’ll find some type of muffin or granola bar on your desk and you turn to look at him and he gives you a little nod. Before you knew it the semester was half way through. The last paper had been submitted the night before and you finally have a Saturday all to yourself.

Unfortunately the storm that rolled in made it impossible to go out without getting soaked. So you sat in your dorm absolutely bored. You had cleaned, read for a while and now you sat on your bed looking out the window of your room, the room that was higher up in the building. Your building was right across from another that held dorm rooms with a quad separating them. Most of the curtains were closed but then movement one floor up caught your eyes and that’s when you saw him, Bucky. Moving around his room and then he looked out, just watching the rain pour. His eyes move around until they get lower and lock with yours. You avert your eyes quickly, embarrassed you got caught. Although it’s not like you were stalking him or anything. Taking a chance you glance back up to see him still at the window with an amused smile on his lips. It’s the first time you had seen him smile since he was back, so you wave at him and he waves back. Then you get an idea.

You move off of your bed and head to your desk and start looking around the drawers until you find what you want and you move back to the window kneeling on your bed. Noticing that Bucky is still at his window you start to pull the post it notes off of the block you had and place them on the window.

Once you were done you peeked around your message to see him move further into his room and out of sight. Maybe you took it a step too far and you started removing the notes so that you could close the window and die from embarrassment, you just hoped no one else saw you. Just as you peel the last post-its and you reach up to pull the curtain closed you see him at his window again and you smile. His message is a reflection of yours.

You start to place more post-its on the window.

What’s up?

Bored…

Movie night?

When?

7 pm

Popcorn?

You look at his last message and get off the bed and search through your stash of snacks and don’t find any so you head back to the window.

None left.

Bucky starts to place post-its on the window again.

I’ll bring snacks.

You see him look around his message and you give him a thumbs up. He smiles and disappears from the window. Grabbing your phone you check the time, almost 7:00. The room was already clean but you decided to grab an extra blanket and set up your mini projector to face the blank wall at the end of your bed and connect the cables to your laptop. As you finish setting up your bed so that it would be more comfortable for both of you there is a knock on your door. Bucky stands in the hallway, the water slipping from his raincoat and leaving little puddles on the floor. His arms are full of bags from the convenience store down the block.

“I counted the windows wrong and went to the wrong room, twice.” He says with a smile.

“Maybe I should have put my room number on the window.” You chuckle before moving out of the way. “Come on in. You can put the bags on the desk.”

He moves from the door to your desk placing the bags down before he turns to you. “Where can I leave this?” He says as he removes the raincoat.

“You can hang it in the shower.”

He moves towards the door you point him to as you grab the bags and start pulling out the things he bought. There’s popcorn and different bags of candy along with some paper plates.

“I got us each two slices from the pizza place at the end of the block. I hope that’s ok.”

“Thank you, they’re my favorite.” You smile at him before he turns his attention to the rest of your room. It was cozy and inviting and so very you.

Bucky shouldn’t be surprised by it, since coming back to campus he’s felt like all anyone did was talk about him except for you. You had been kind and didn’t expect anything from him, no one other than Sam and Steve had been that gracious.

“So what do you want to watch?”

“I don’t know, how about the host picks?”

“Disney movie it is.”

You had watched some movies but you also got to know each other better. You told him about moving up to college from a small town. He offered to show you some of his favorite places. Conversation was easy with him, Bucky even told you about the accident, and answered any question you had. He hesitated when you asked if you could hold his left hand but then did it anyway. You weren’t afraid of it or him. Although he did warn that he was still adapting to it so controlling it was sometimes an issue.

After that night you and Bucky were practically joined at the hip. He would wait for you at the entrance to your building on mornings when you both had class and walked with you to get coffee. If your free time in between classes lined up, you would meet up and hang out. Your Wednesday classes were your favorite, it had become a race to see who would get there and get the best seats. He always won. But you were better at the post-it window art that you both had started to do just to cheer each other up.

“Why are you staring out the window?” Steve asks from his place at Bucky’s desk.

“None of your business punk.”

“Are you waiting for post-it girl?” This time it’s Sam asking as he walks closer to the window in hopes to get a glimpse of the mystery girl Bucky has been talking about nonstop.

“Oh, that’s right, I can’t believe I forgot about her. Which one is her window?”

“I’m not telling either of you.” Bucky informs them as he closes the blinds just in case you decide to write something. For the first time since he got back to campus Bucky had been excited, at first he was worried about how everyone was going to react to him. It was just about how he expected, he could feel eyes on him all the time. Everyone wanted to see his arm and he was very self conscious about it. But you had been kind and treated him the way he wanted to be treated and then you asked him over for movie night, by then he was smitten.

“You know you should come to the party tonight and invite her.”

“I don’t think she likes parties, Sam.”

“How can you know if you don’t ask her?”

Sam was right and although he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to go, if you went, he’d at least stay for an hour or so. He turns back to the window and pulls the blinds away just in time to see you place the last small square piece of paper on your window.

HI.

Party?

When?

10.

Ok.

His phone vibrated in his back pocket which he grabbed immediately to see a message from you. He frowned when he saw your message.

Y/n: Can I bring a friend?

Bucky: Of course, did you want to meet downstairs? We can go together.

Y/N: Perfect, is it ok if my friend goes with us?

Bucky: Yeah, no problem. See you then.

His heart sank a little at the thought of you bringing a date. Of course someone as kind and beautiful as you would be in a relationship. To think that he had a chance was ridiculous.

“So are you going with her?” Steve asks from his spot by the desk.

“Yeah, she’s um- she’s bringing a friend though.”

“I hope it’s a cute friend. Maybe you can hook one of us up with the friend.”

Bucky hadn’t thought of that. Maybe it really was just a friend. Now he would have to wait and see.

You had received Bucky’s message that he was outside and you rushed to get downstairs. Slowing down slightly as you get to the door of the building when you see both your best friend and Bucky standing out there. He looked good, so good it should be illegal. He wore a tight black t-shirt that peeked from under a matching black leather jacket, blue jeans that really showed off his thick thighs, his outfit as a whole somehow making his eyes brighter. You bit back a smile as you saw the confusion on his face as he looked at your best friend.

“So post-it boy, what are your intentions with my Y/N?”

“Darcy leave him alone.” you chide as you walk out of the building, noticing the relief in Bucky’s eyes as you step out of the building. You hug Darcy before standing beside Bucky.

“What? I’m just asking him a question. One that he hasn’t answered.”

“Well I-um.”

“And he’s not going to.” you cut him off. “Can we go now?”

“Fine I won’t ask you any more questions on the condition that you introduce me to one of your super beefy football playing friends.”

“I can do that.”

“Then let's go party.”

The house was packed, people were already drunk and the music was so loud the bass caused the whole place to shake. But you couldn’t care less about any of those things because the moment the three of you got out of the uber you had taken there, Bucky grabbed your hand and wouldn’t let go as he navigated the overcrowded space. People parted like the red sea for him though, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because it was him or they were afraid to hurt him, Bucky didn’t seem to care though. He used it to his advantage to get to his friends that were hanging out by the makeshift bar.

“There he is!” Some of his friends shouted. “What took you so long, jerk?”

“You failed to mention you invited the whole school, punk. We would barely get in here.”

“We?” The tall beefy blond with beautiful blue eyes looked past Bucky to find you. His eyes went wide and then he smirked. “Well if it isn’t post-it girl. We have been dying to meet you.”

“We?”

“Sam! Look who's here.”

“Well it was about time we got to meet.” an equally as attractive guy put his arm around Bucky’s shoulder while he smiled at you. Bucky shrugs off Sam’s arm and moves to stand beside you, before he can say anything Darcy stands in front of you.

“Steve, Sam, this is Y/N. And this is Y/N’s best friend Darcy.”

Sam speaks up before Steve is able to. “Hi Y/N. Darcy, what are you having?”

You can’t help but laugh as you watch Darcy flirt with both men, letting them try to upstage each other. Bucky leans in, his breath on your skin causes yours to hitch as he asks what you want to drink. The rest of the night is spent drinking, although you don’t want to get drunk just a light buzz and it seems like Bucky is thinking the same thing as he nurses his drink. He stays close to you which you don’t mind. Girls and guys have come up to him with the intention of taking him upstairs but he ignores them, his focus was on only you.

“I love this song, come dance with me.”

“I don’t dance, sugar.”

“Just one dance.”

“I’m not a dancer.”

“Please.” you pout and look at him with big doe eyes and he knows he won’t be able to deny you anything if you keep looking at him like that.

“Just one.” he whispers into your ear. You beam at him as you pull him toward the designated dance floor.

Once you find a spot you start moving to the beat of the song, Bucky’s hands on your hips but he keeps a small space between you. Something you aren’t too fond of. You turn in his embrace, letting your hips sway and you grind your ass against him. His hands tighten their grip on your hips but you don’t let it stop you. Without realizing what you’re doing you grab his hands and wrap them around your waist. That closes the small gap between you, his lips find their way to your shoulder leaving a trail of kisses and nips up and down your neck making you gasp. You moved your head to the side to grant him more access as you moved your hips against him again, a groan escaping his lips meant only for your ears.

The little bubble you were in burst when you heard Darcy calling your name, you didn’t want to walk away from Bucky but he assured you it was ok that most likely she needed you and she did. You left the party shortly after, excusing yourself with the boys. Bucky wanted to leave with you. He’d rather be with you than at this place but you insisted he enjoyed the party. Still he walked you out to the Uber and made sure you and Darcy were in ok as he stood there and watched the car disappear into the night.

“If you don’t ask her out I will.” He heard Samsay as he walked to the backyard after spending some time alone at the front of the house.

“I don’t even-“

“Don’t finish that sentence. I saw the way she was dancing with you. She likes you. Ask her out on a real date.”

His phone goes off, saving him from whatever else Sam was going to say.

Y/N: back home safe. Thanks for tonight I had fun.

Bucky: Me too. Sweet dreams.

He smiled down at his phone before putting it in his pocket.

He had decided the night before as he walked into his dorm room that he was going to ask you out. Bucky had it planned, hopefully you would like it. He barely slept, he was nervous but mostly excited. When the sun came up and filled his room with light Bucky got up and started on his plan.

Date? 7 pm

It was simple, but it’s how you had become friends in the first place so maybe it would lead to something more. He sat back against his bed waiting to see your curtains pulled back. He held his breath when he noticed the blinds moving and then he saw you look up. Still sleepy but then as you looked up at his window he thought your eyes went wide but he couldn’t be sure. Then you disappeared back into your room and he didn’t see you again. Bucky’s heart sank.

He started pulling the small squares off of his window when he heard a knock on his door. Bucky pulled the curtains closed thinking it might be Sam or Steve and he didn’t need the embarrassment of having to tell them you ignored his message. He’s surprised to find you, still in your pajamas and a bright smile on your lips. You hold out your hand. A bright pink post-it folded in half sitting on the palm of your hand.

“What’s going on?”

“I ran out of post-it’s.”

He laughed, of course you did, you actually used them daily. Bucky grabs the paper and opens it.

Yes.

He can’t contain his smile when he sees the answer. Bucky’s eyes move from the paper to you and he pulls you in by your waist, gives you the kiss he wanted to give you at the party.

“I’m pretty sure that means I win having the best post-it art this time.” He says after pulling away.

“What should the winner get as a prize?”

“More kisses.”

“I can manage that.” You say as your lips find his again.

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