Tumgik
#i'm sorry you have to suffer this bucky
ellemj · 5 months
Text
Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 2
Bucky Barnes x Reader
**If you haven't read Pt. 1 yet, READ IT FIRST.**
Summary: You fight the effects of the chemical compound for as long as you can, until Bucky makes you an offer that your body can't seem to refuse. But, you each have a rule that the other has to follow.
Warnings: this one is a huge fucking tease, I'm so sorry (I won't be sorry when I release part 3 tonight), masturbation, talk of unprotected sex, profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.
Word Count: 4k (I just couldn't stop the build up)
Author's Note: I cannot believe the overwhelming response on part one of this, I was just in a silly goofy mood and decided to finally use my Tumblr for something other than reading y'alls AMAZING fics every night before bed. I didn't expect anyone to really even see it. My heart is racing as I get ready to post this rn lmao. PLEASEEE tell me what your fav part of this one is, I have to know. Part 3 will be out tonight, I can't make you guys wait too much.
Tumblr media
            Bucky’s resolve has been steadily crumbling for the past hour, and truthfully, he’s barely placing any blame on the chemical compound that’s interacting with the serum coursing through his veins. He’s placing the blame on you and the needy, whimpering noises that you’ve been making for the last forty-five minutes. After the video conference with Bruce and Tony ended, you were quick to lock yourself in one of the bedrooms of the safe house. You didn’t even say another word to Bucky, you just stood up from the couch with one hand clutched over your stomach, and hurried off down the hall. He wanted to say something to you, but what the hell was he supposed to say? I’m sorry that we’re in this situation? That wouldn’t help a damn thing. You’re in it and there’s nothing either one of you can do except pray that you’ll have enough self-control to make it through the night with your doors still locked.
            Bucky sat on the couch for a few minutes after you left, replaying Tony’s last warning to you in his head. You won’t feel relief until your body thinks it has a chance of reproducing, until semen is introduced into your system. It made him feel like shit. He can find relief on his own, he can take care of himself tonight, but you? You’ll suffer for a minimum of eight hours, possibly nearing death, alone behind a locked door. It’s not that he thinks you can’t handle yourself. He’s perfectly aware of how capable you are at handling practically anything. He’s been your partner in the field for two months now and he’s never once had a doubt about your skills, your ability to tolerate pain, or even the split-second decisions you have to make sometimes during missions. You might give each other shit the majority of the time that you’re working together, but when it comes down to it, you trust each other with no reservations. So, why then, does he find himself so fucking worried about you?
            He’s been locked in the bedroom across the hall from yours for the past hour now. He thought maybe things wouldn’t be so bad when he heard you tucking yourself away into bed, when he heard you go still and silent for a few minutes. It was smart of you, trying to sleep as much as you could before the chemical fully set in and began to wreak havoc within your body. But after only fifteen minutes, he heard the faintest sound carrying across the hall. He wasn’t sure what it was at first, thinking maybe you’d gotten up to use the bathroom and it was the creak of a floorboard or maybe a door hinge. It was wishful thinking. The second time he heard it, he was sure. You were whimpering in your sleep. For a few moments, he was able to deceive himself into thinking it was whimpers of pain, maybe from your stomach aching in your sleep. When you grew louder, the sounds of your soft, breathy moans mixing with the sound of the sheets rustling as you tossed and turned restlessly, that’s when his resolve began to break apart piece by piece. He sits on the side of his bed in total darkness. His shirt and tactical pants are strewn across the floor where he previously discarded them when the heat emanating from his body became too much to bear. His hands grip the edge of the mattress with enough force to break through the layers of fabric there, but he fears that if he lets go, the next thing his hands will grip will be either his cock or the two door knobs separating you both. Focusing on your suffering is keeping him from feeling his own pain, but the noises you’re making are making it significantly harder for him to ignore the needs that are bubbling to the surface within him. Shit. How the fuck did he end up in this situation with you?
            You awake suddenly, drenched in sweat, your sweats especially making you feel like damp towels are wrapped around your legs. You waste no time throwing the covers back and ripping your sweats off, tossing them onto the floor and moving your hair to lay it across your pillow so it’s not sticking to your neck. Fuck HYDRA. Fuck Zemo for killing Dr. Nagel. Obviously, you wouldn’t have wanted him running around recreating the super soldier serum either, but if he was still alive maybe you wouldn’t be lying here in this state. You take a deep breath in, counting to three in your head as you breathe it back out. Focusing in on your symptoms, you try to make a mental list. You think that maybe if you can remind yourself of the science behind the symptoms, you won’t become an irrationally horny mess, you can just reason your way out of the most intense arousal you’ve ever felt in your life. Sweating, tachycardia, abdominal cramping, bone pain…you stupidly let your right hand slide down between your legs. Your fingertips briefly grace the exterior fabric of your black boyshort panties, feeling how wet they are adds another symptom to the mental list, not that you needed to feel it to know. Arousal.
            You lean over to the bedside table and feel around blindly for your phone. The screen illuminates and you see that it’s only 10 pm. You’ve only been sleeping for an hour. The chemical compound isn’t even at its peak activity level yet and you’re already beginning to feel a type of desperation that you haven’t felt before. You need relief. Tony’s words swirl around in your mind, making you feel lightheaded and making you want to hunt him down and make him take the words back by force, like that would change the reality of the situation you’re currently in. You won’t feel relief until your body thinks it has a chance of reproducing, until semen is introduced into your system.
            You could try finding relief on your own. Tony isn’t lord over all things scientific. When has he ever dealt with a compound like this before? Never. He doesn’t know shit. You’re trying so hard to convince yourself that he could be wrong. Sitting up in bed, you reach over and flip on the lamp that sits on the bedside table, casting a pale glow across the room. You will yourself to think clearly, to make a plan and implement it. You can fight this. You need something that’ll take down your body temperature, slow your heart rate, and ease some of the pain you’re feeling everywhere. A cold shower.
            Bucky listens intently as you open your door and your feet patter softly down the hall. He listens as you shut and lock the bathroom door behind you and then as you turn on the shower. He mentally curses his heightened sense of hearing when he hears the tussle of your clothes hitting the floor. He’s been ignoring his hardening cock as it grows beneath the black fabric of his boxers. He’s been ignoring it because he feared if he tried to relieve himself, you’d likely hear him across the hall and he’d never let himself live it down. He can’t be the first one to break. But maybe, with you being in the shower, you wouldn’t be able to hear anything coming from his room. Why the hell are you even in the shower? He imagines the pain you’re in would make it hard for you to stand in there for very long, and it’s not like a shower is going to give you much relief at all. He can’t wonder for more than a quick moment, before the chemical begins to really cloud his mind, his clear thoughts becoming hazy behind thoughts of chasing relief. Fuck it. You won’t hear a damn thing.
            Bucky sighs deeply as his lays back on the bed, still in darkness, pushing his boxers down a few inches and freeing his hard length. His flesh hand quickly wraps around it, giving it a slow stroke from base to tip, pre-cum quickly coating his fingers.
            “Oh, fuck.” He groans lowly. It’s never felt like this before. It’s as if every nerve in his body has shifted, has traveled down to embed in his cock. His head falls back into his pillow, his eyes squeezing shut at the sensation of his shaft finally being handled. He works his fist up and down, picking up speed and reveling in the feeling of temporary relief. As he strokes his cock, he feels the pain throughout his body slowly dissipating, easing up but not fully disappearing. Before he can stop himself, he’s picturing exactly what you’d look like right now. Your perfectly toned body standing under a stream of water, your hands running down your smooth skin, your eyes closed as you let the shower wash away your discomfort. He feels guilty. Truly, he does. But it's as if he has no control over his thoughts when his hand is on his cock and his veins are corrupted with a potent chemical from hell. Especially not when you’re naked a mere ten feet down the hall. As Bucky nears his climax, his balls tightening and his cock twitching in his hand, a loud crash resounds throughout the house and he’s brought back to reality. He’s on his feet, his boner tucked reluctantly away in his boxers, and his bedroom door flying open in less than two seconds, fearing the worst. He thinks you must’ve passed out from the effects of the chemical, fallen in the shower, maybe split your head open. When he reaches for the bathroom door knob and finds it locked, he’s giving no second thought to breaking the door down. Hell, he decided he was going to break it down before he ever left his room. He takes one step back, ready to use his leg to kick through it, when he hears the shower water cut off and the curtain pull back.
            “Y/n?” His voice is laced with concern and it takes you by surprise. You’d only been standing in the ice-cold shower for two minutes when you realized it wasn’t going to do shit for you. You aren’t usually one to lose your temper, but feeling so hopeless and helpless, your only plan failing to provide you with any relief, you ended up slamming your fist into the tiled shower wall out of pure frustration. You didn’t do it hard enough to really hurt yourself, but apparently hard enough to alarm Bucky.
            “You’re supposed to be locked in your room.” You call out, your voice coming out a little timid and quieter than you intended. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you step out of the shower and examine yourself in front of the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks are still flushed, your pupils are dilated so much that you’re surprised the lights aren’t hurting your eyes yet, and your rapid pulse is nearly visible in your neck. You let your hair down from the bun you threw it up into for the shower and then pull on the same shirt and damp panties you had on moments earlier.
            “I thought you fell.” Bucky says quietly, barely above a whisper. You can tell he’s standing close to the door. You’ve never heard him speak so softly. You freeze, your hands clutching the edge of the bathroom sink as your body responds to his voice, against your rational mind’s will. You feel a familiar heat gathering between your legs and you squeeze your thighs together. He needs to go back to his room. Now.
            “Bucky, go back to bed.” Your voice is firm, without a single hint of hesitation. Bucky knows that he should heed the warning. He knows he should turn around right now and go back and lock his door. Instead, he stands there in the hallway with his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers and a conflicted expression on his face. You said earlier that your only option was to lock yourselves in your respective rooms and ride it out until morning. Was that really the only option though? He could easily think of a few more options, though admittedly, he might not be thinking with his brain anymore.
            “You have to go back to your room before I come out.” You’re starting to sound like you’re pleading with him. As much as you want to act strong and like you have all of the self-control in the world right now, you’re worried that if you step out into the hall and see him, you won’t be able to stop yourself from reaching out for him. You want to feel his skin beneath your hands as you run your palms from his shoulders, down his chest, straight to the waistband of whatever the hell he’s wearing right now. You want to have him completely bare in front of you, with nothing stopping you from dragging him straight to your bed to find the relief that you both so desperately crave right now. A sharp pang in your lower stomach causes you to let out a soft groan, and the sudden inhale you hear from Bucky through the door doesn’t go unnoticed.
            “Not until I see that you’re okay.” Bucky says, still worried that you fell in the shower or hurt yourself somehow. Not wanting to waste any more time letting the chemical stew in your reproductive system, you flip the bathroom light off so you’re thrown into darkness, before unlocking the bathroom door and pulling it open slowly. You can just barely make out his form in the dark hallway, the curve of his broad shoulders, the glint of the black and gold vibranium making up his left arm, and fuck…the ripples down his abdomen. You’ve always thought he was frustratingly attractive, but now? Just looking at him has you insatiable. You realize quickly that he’s not wearing anything except a pair of black boxers and his dog tags. He’s really not making this easy on you. Your eyes flutter closed and you sigh, telling yourself to suck it up and walk past him. Just walk past him. But now you what he looks like with nearly no clothes on, and he’s so close to you. So. Damn. Close. A foot away from you, to be exact.
            “I’m fine, just go back to bed.” You whisper. You don’t trust yourself to speak any louder, worried that raising your voice might awake something much more primal within yourself.
            “Look at me.” He says, matching your whisper volume. Shit. Shit, shit. Shit. No.
            “Don’t—” You’re cut off by the feel of his cool vibranium fingers wrapping around your right hand, lifting it so he can see it better. You suck in a harsh breath at the contact. It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, it’s not even what you need. You need skin. You need him against you. But something about the cool metal contrasting against the warmth of your heated hand feels electrifying.
            “Did you punch the wall?” He questions, examining your reddened knuckles with narrowed eyes. Your eyes remain closed as you nod your head, and he takes the moment to scan his eyes down your body. Your t-shirt skims along the tops of your thighs and he knows if you turned around, it wouldn’t even fully cover the curve of your ass. Fuck, he wants you to turn around. He drops your hand as quickly as he first grabbed it, letting it fall back to your side as he begins running his flesh hand through his disheveled hair.
            “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?” Bucky has to know. He knows how high your pain tolerance is, he knows how good you are at putting on a brave face in the worst situations. He has to know how much you’re really suffering right now before he makes an offer that he can’t take back.
            “Four.” You fib, pressing your lips together and daring to open your eyes and look back at him. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark a little more and you can see the sweat glistening across his chest, his quick breaths drawing your attention straight to his pecs.
            “Don’t lie to me.” His gaze hardens. He hates that you’d try to lie to him. Do you really not trust him enough to just be open with him? Jesus, he’s standing in front of you in his fucking boxers with a hard-on that you haven’t even noticed yet and somehow you feel the need to keep things from him, like he isn’t just as vulnerable as you are right now.
            “Seven.” You admit truthfully. The pain in your stomach has intensified, and all you want to do is curl into a ball right there on the floor. You feel like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, you feel like someone attempted to extinguish that fire with a gallon of hot sauce, and then ran you over with a semi-truck. You reach out for the door frame with your right hand, using it for balance as your legs begin to feel weaker.
            “Y/n-” Bucky starts, ready to make you an offer, but you don’t let him continue. He knows it’s crossing a line. He’s fully aware that if he offers and you say no, things could just get weird between the two of you. He’s even more aware that if he offers and you say yes, it could effectively end your working relationship. But he can’t stand to see you like this. You might give each other shit more often than you’re civil with each other, but something about you being in pain has always sat wrong with him. He worries more about you in the field than he worries about himself.
            “Don’t say my name, just…” You cut him off, but your voice trails off as your eyes wander down to the front of his boxers, finally noticing the way he’s straining against the fabric, his tip resting just barely under the waistband. “If you keep standing here, if you keep saying things to me, I’m not going to be able to go back to my room. I need you to walk away before I lose the power to let you.” Your warning should be clear as day now. He needs to leave you alone.
            “No.” His refusal hits a nerve, angering you more than you would’ve thought possible. You feel a rush of adrenaline surge through you as you lose control of your actions. You place your hands against his chest, shoving him back, hard. He barely moves, which just further enrages you. “Y/n, we can fix this. I can fix this for you.” His offer is out in the open now. He holds his breath as you freeze in front of him, your hands falling away from his chest and your eyes squeezing shut in contemplation.
            “Do you even realize what you’re offering?” Your question hangs in the air between the two of you, and the tension in the hallway makes it feel as though lightning is about to strike the tiny cobblestone house that you stand in. You wish lightning would strike. When you open your eyes this time, the look in Bucky’s eye has changed. There’s something in place of his usual hard gaze, something that nearly draws you in.
            “Yes.” He’s offering to fuck you. He’s offering to give you the relief that you so badly need, the relief that can only be found when he finishes inside you. You’re hallucinating. That’s what this is. Because there is no fucking way that he’s standing in front of you right now, the six-foot tall super soldier who you can barely get along with outside of mandatory missions, offering to fuck you raw. “I know what I’m offering.” You only take a moment to weigh your options. Go back to your room, lock the door, and suffer for the next 7-10 hours or have sex with him and hope that it doesn’t ruin your entire life. Why would it ruin your life? Because he’s the only partner that you’ve trusted enough to work with since Nat passed, and there’s no way that things can just be fine and normal after you’ve seen each other naked. Things would get awkward, it’d be hard to look at each other, hard to see each other as professionals anymore. And your work, your job, is your life. Outside of this you have nothing. No family, not a single friend that isn't connected to this damn line of work, not a damn thing to turn to when this inevitably goes to shit.
            “Stop overthinking it.” Bucky’s voice breaks you out of your whirlwind of thoughts. Against your better judgement, you make eye contact with him and the way he’s looking at you gives you butterflies. Butterflies? Who the fuck are you right now? “Close your eyes.” His voice is low, making the butterflies in your stomach explode and spread outward until it feels like your skin is tingling. You don’t know why you do as he says, but your eyes close and you stand there with bated breath as the floorboards creak. He’s stepping closer to you, stopping when you feel his breath fanning across your face. He trails his flesh fingertips from the back of your left hand and up your arm slowly, drawing goosebumps to the surface of your overheated skin but leaving some kind of calmness behind. You relish the way your left arm becomes the only part of your body that isn’t in pain, the only part that he’s touching.
            “Okay…” Your voice is raspy as you cave to his touch. “But I have a rule.” He pulls his hand away and you wince as the pain quickly returns to the bones deep within your arm. He raises an eyebrow at you as he waits for you to continue. “You can’t kiss my lips.”
            Bucky hesitates for a second, caught off guard by your insane rule. No kissing? During sex? Do you hate him that much? Fuck, he shouldn’t have offered to do this in the first place. It’s obvious that you really don’t want this, and he won’t be able to get off knowing that.
            “Who’s overthinking now?” You laugh out, brushing past him and heading straight for your bedroom door. You took his hesitation as a rejection of your rule, and if he rejects your rule then you’re not doing this. If he kisses you, you’re scared you’re going to feel something. You can have sex and find absolutely zero meaning in it, that’s not that hard. It’s just a physical act. But kissing? Kissing makes it too intimate, too much of a real connection. You won’t give that away so easily. Just as you’re nearing the door, you feel Bucky’s hand wrap tightly around your wrist and pull you back, spinning you around so you’re facing him. In less than a second, he’s walking you backwards until your ass hits the wall and your hand is pinned above your head, with his body pressed firmly against yours. His nose brushes over the tip of yours and you shudder at the feeling of his skin, his body giving off so much heat that you’re regretting having put your shirt back on earlier.
            “Fine, I won’t kiss you.” He rasps. His vibranium hand is gripping your hip, holding you solidly against the wall as he moves to run his lips along your jawline. He doesn’t kiss your skin, he simply lets his lips ghost over it, making you tilt your head to the side in anticipation. “I have one rule of my own.”
            “What’s that?” Your voice sounds a lot more confident than you expected it to, like you’re not fighting to hold yourself together inside. He nips at your earlobe softly and you feel the tip of his tongue against it so lightly that you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.
            “You’re going to wear these while I fuck you.” He guides your right hand up over the perfect ridges of his abs, across his chest, and straight to the dog tags that hang around his neck.
Next Part
TAG LIST:
@sarcastickiddo @donttalktosposts @marygoddessofmischief @its-daydreamer23 @lightsonnoonehome @gyokujyn @kandis-mom @millercontracting @alicia-bman @littlemiss-yeehaw @sdddoobydoobydoo @a-rotten-chicken-nugget @browneyedgirl22 @charmedbysarge @i-dont-know-how-to-words @maraaaamartinnnn @hensawweston @traderjoesmints @fictionallyunavailable4ever @black-cat-2 @just-act-natural @phoenixstark1708 @ladyvenera
2K notes · View notes
lizslibrary · 1 month
Text
Mirror
Tumblr media
Summary: Reader is Bucky's next-door neighbor when they hear him having a nightmare. Reader helps him see his reflection in the mirror and reminds him that his scars are beautiful because they are proof that he survived.
A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support on my last story, It gave me the courage to write a second one. The last fic I wrote was done in the first person so I thought I would try my hand in second person to see how it goes. Please let me know of any compliments or criticism that you have, it would really help a lot! 🤍
Warnings: Nightmare, PTSD, Bucky being insecure, self-deprivation (Bucky,) Crying, hurt/comfort.
Word count: 1339.
__________________________________
You awoke to the sound of screaming from across the hall, it didn't take long to figure out Bucky was having another nightmare. You prop yourself up on one elbow, rubbing your eyes as you adjust to being awake. Forcing yourself out of your bed, you open your door and step into the dimly lit hallway of your apartment building. You gently raise your fist and knock on Bucky's apartment door, hoping he'll answer.
Not long after, the door creaks open and Bucky stands in the doorway looking disheveled and tired. He was wearing loose sweatpants, and his skin was gleaming with sweat. his eyes reddened and brimmed with tears yet to be spilled. You stare at him for a moment noticing how his long hair is sticking to the sides of his face, and how there were dark smudges under each eye.
"Bucky?" You say softly, almost as if he was a bomb waiting to detonate. "Can I come in?"
Bucky nods quietly, holding the door open a little wider. I look around noticing how messy his apartment is. Pillows and blankets were on the ground, and his boots were on two separate sides of the room, one leaning against the TV stand, while the other was in the corner. The only furniture in the room was a small, grey couch and a little coffee table that sat between the TV and the sofa.
Bucky stared at you silently, his eyes were dark. "I'm sorry I woke you." He said, his voice low and shaky.
You shook your head "Don't worry about it Bucky, it wasn't your fault." You say gently, sitting down on his couch and gesturing for him to sit next to you. "Are you okay?"
Bucky shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair "No" He says quietly, closing his eyes. "They won't stop, every time I try to sleep these nightmares keep coming back."
Your heart began to ache at the thought of Bucky suffering through these awful nightmares, night after night. You recall all the times when he would wake you up screaming, telling you how he had just dreamt about Hyrda, about how these visions of death and violence constantly haunt him.
"You don't deserve this Bucky." You say, observing the way he covered himself up with a blanket.
Bucky turned to face you "I'm a monster..." he said lowly. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Bucky closed his eyes tightly, and tears fell freely from his cheeks.
"No Bucky, you're not." You say, gently placing your hand over his shaking one. "Bucky, you've done nothing wrong, none of this is your fault."
He looked away from you, eyes falling to the floor "I know, but I still did it."
You sigh "Buck, listen to me." You say, keeping your voice gentle. "You were being brainwashed and manipulated. They made you do horrible things that you had no control over."
Bucky remained silent, letting out a deep breath before looking at you. "They ruined me Y/n, my body is filled with ugly scars." He said pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "When I go out in public little people, children even, are scared of my arm...It just reminds me of my past and what I've done." He says softly "Hydra ruined me."
You place your hand on his blanket-covered back slowly making circles with my fingernails. "Bucky, you are the kindest most handsome man I've ever met, your past does not define your present." You say, "You have gone out of your way to protect and take care of me even before we became close."
His cheeks tinted pink "Y/n...thank you." He whispered, taking a deep breath "But-"
You stop him "No buts Bucky." You say firmly "Can I show you the Bucky that I see?" You take his hand, pulling the blanket off his back, and leading him gently into the bathroom turning him so that he can see his reflection in the mirror.
"What do you see when you look at yourself?" You ask, keeping your voice soft.
Turning his head away from the mirror, Bucky swallowed hard. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he took a deep breath. "Scars..." He mumbled, unable to meet your gaze.
You nod, rubbing his back "Anything else?"
Bucky peers back to the mirror, his eyes landing on the scar tissue that connects his shoulder to his vibranium arm, he clenches his jaw and grips the sink tightly.
Your gaze is soft as you watch Bucky look at himself, with sorrow and pain. He doesn't reply as he turns away from the mirror, dropping his head in shame.
"Listen to me bucky..." You say, standing next to him in the mirror "Your scars are beautiful."
He glances up at you "How could they possibly be?" He asks, fighting back the tears that welled in his eyes.
You smile warmly "Because you fought your way out of hell, you persevered through torture and you lived; they are a reminder that you survived." You tell him, your eyes never leaving his. "You are the strongest, most beautiful man I have ever met." You say, turning to face him.
Bucky wipes his eyes quickly, inhaling sharply. He stares at you a moment before letting out a deep breath "Thank you..." He whispers, averting his eyes once more.
You squeeze his hand lightly "You don't have to thank me." You say softly. "You deserved to hear it."
Bucky stares down at you, his glossy eyes filled with gratitude, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug. You wrap your arms around him in return, feeling the tension seep from his body. He sniffles "I don't deserve you doll." He whispers, bringing his forehead to rest against your shoulder.
"No, you deserve more."
You weren't sure why, but you felt like you needed to be persistent in reminding him that he was worthy of love and affection, regardless of what happened in his past.
"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." He breathes, bringing his hand up to your head and running his fingers through your hair.
With a contented sigh, you let your fingers glide over Bucky's skin, tracing his muscles and spine. He shudders under your touch, tightening his grip around your waist. He leans into you, his forehead resting on yours.
"It feels good to hold you." He murmurs, pushing his nose against your cheek.
You smile against his chest "That's sweet Bucky, feels good to hold you too" You murmur.
Bucky lets out a soft chuckle, a light tickle brushing against your ear. You reach up, running your hand through his silky hair, gently combing it out of his eyes. You tilt his head up so that his eyes meet your own.
"Are you ready to go back to bed?" You say, staring into his eyes. You could tell that he was tired, his pale blue eyes looking dull and heavy.
He nods slowly, resting his chin against your shoulder before pulling away and walking into his room "Yeah." He mutters.
You turn around, walking back into the bedroom. As you shut the door behind you, you hear Bucky sigh as he climbs onto his bed. You walk over to the bed and sit down, facing Bucky.
He closes his eyes and lets out a long exhale "Thanks for talking to me sweetheart...You didn't have to stay up this long." He says, his voice cracking slightly.
You run your fingers through his hair "Don't worry about it Bucky, I wanted to." You say, leaning forward and kissing his forehead "Goodnight."
Bucky stares at you, looking at you as if he is trying to memorize every feature.
"Y/n?" He asks barely audible.
"Yeah?"
"Can you stay here tonight?" He says, his voice hoarse.
A small smile appears as you walk to the other side of the bed and gently crawl under the covers. immediately, Warmth envelops you as you settle into the blankets. You take a deep breath, feeling the heat from Bucky's body beneath the blankets. You lean forward, bringing your lips to his temple.
"Goodnight Buck." You murmur.
"Sweet dreams, sweetheart," he whispers softly, drawing you close to his chest as he drifts into the first peaceful sleep he has had in years.
424 notes · View notes
bossbtch1 · 7 months
Text
Shadows Of The Past
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The GIF and picture are not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.
Summary : Bucky's nightmares have returned, and you wanted to make him feel better. However, both of you have different approaches in mind. Bucky then attempts to make a deal with you. What kind of offer will he propose, and will you accept it?
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)
General tags : SMUT, 18, Porn with Plot
TW: Needy!Bucky, Gentle!Bucky, Fluff, Comfort, PTSD, Cuddling, Oral (f receiving), Fingering, Dirty talk, Unprotected sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal sex, Anal sex, Aftercare
Word Count: 7,5k
A/N : Hey there! As I promised, here's the first version of this story. Funny how it was meant to be short fic, but it turned into quite a story, huh? It's around 70% smut, but I've added some sweet fluff and comfort to the mix (so you won't get bored). So, go ahead, dive in! Hope you sin with me!
Tumblr media
While you were asleep, a sharp cry pierced the silence, jolting you awake. Your eyes flew open, and your heart raced as you realized the agonized sound came from Bucky. He thrashed against the blankets that had been wrapped snugly around him, his face contorted into a pained grimace, his body glistening with a sheen of sweat.
The nightmares that had haunted him before had returned, and it seemed they were more relentless than ever, plaguing him for weeks. He tried to keep his suffering from you, not wanting you to worry, but he could no longer hide his distress.
Amidst his cries, you could hear him desperately calling out your name, his voice laced with terror. "No! Please no, don't hurt her. Y/N! Y/N!"
Hearing him call for you, pleading with someone who wasn't there, broke your heart. You hated seeing him suffer, and you wished there was some way to ease his pain.
You wanted to blame Shuri, blame Wakanda, blame his therapist. They said he was free of his trigger words, so why couldn't he sleep? Why couldn't he be free from the nightmares?
With a racing heart, you reached out, gripping his quivering shoulder, "It’s okay Bucky,” you whispered, your voice soft but urgent. "You're just having a nightmare, baby. Everything's going to be okay. I'm right here. It's just a dream. Please, just wake up, baby,” you murmured, running your hand gently over his cheek.
But he remained trapped in his own subconscious torment, lost in the depths of his nightmare.
Desperation welled up inside you, and you shook him more vigorously, hoping to pull him back from the horrifying visions that plagued his sleep. "Bucky, please, come back to me. I'm here with you, and I'm safe."
Slowly, his body began to relax and he stopped thrashing, his eyes fluttering open. He sat up, breathing heavily as his eyes frantically searched the room, his face wet with tears.
"Hi, there you are." You smiled, trying to mask the pain in your heart. "It's okay. You were having a nightmare, but it's over now. You're awake. I'm right here. No one can hurt us."
He looked at you, his eyes full of fear, still trying to discern what was real. You could see the fear still lingering in his gaze as he recognized you. "Y/N?" his voice cracked with fear and confusion.
"Yes, Bucky. It's me. I'm right here. See?" taking his trembling hand and placing it over your heart, letting him feel the rhythmic beating.  "I'm okay. Everything's okay."
Bucky let out a sigh of relief when he felt the beating of your heart beneath his fingertips, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "Thank god." Burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms tightened around you as he breathed deeply, the tension slowly leaving his body as he relaxed.
"It's okay, it's over," you whispered reassuringly, running a hand through his hair soothingly.
"I'm so sorry, baby" he murmured against your skin, his lips ghosting over your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine. "I didn't mean to wake you."
You cupped his face, looking into his eyes, seeing the exhaustion there. "It's okay, really. You don't need to apologize."
His gaze dropped, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the bare skin of your thigh. "I should be better. Stronger. You shouldn't have to deal with this."
"I told you I would be there for you no matter what, and I meant it," you insisted. "It's okay, Bucky," you whispered, holding him close and stroking his back soothingly. "It was just a dream. I'm right here, and I won't let anything harm you."
He clung to you, his grip tight as if he feared letting go would send him spiralling back into the horrors of his dreams. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice strained, "I thought... I thought I lost you.”
"You will never lose me, Bucky," you said firmly, cupping his face and looking him straight in the eye. "Never. I promise."
He let out a shuddering breath, his body relaxing at your words. His breathing began to steady as he focused on your presence, the reality of your touch grounding him. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he confessed, his voice barely audible.
"You don't have to know," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You have me, I'll always be here with you. And I'm not going anywhere."
Slowly, the panic receded, the adrenaline subsiding. His grip on you loosened, but he kept his arm around you, needing the reassurance of your touch.
Your fingers carded through his hair, gently working through the knots. "Would you like to talk about what happened?" you asked, your voice gentle and understanding.
He shook his head slightly, his lips forming a hesitant smile. "Not right now. Just being with you is enough."
"Okay, we can just lay here and cuddle. I love cuddling with you." You pressed another kiss to his forehead.
He smiled up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. "I love you."
You wiped sweat from his face, kissing his temple. "I love you too."
He sighed, closing his eyes and settling back against your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart. "Thank you, baby. I'm sorry I keep waking you up like this. I don't know why I can't just let go of these nightmares."
"Shush, it's okay, Bucky. You don't need to say sorry.” Your voice was soft, your touch tender as you caressed his face. "We'll face this together. You're not alone."
His eyes met yours, and he gave you a small smile. Then you noticed both of your glasses were empty on the nightstand. As you tried to get up to fetch some water, Bucky caught your hands, holding them gently but firmly. "Where are you going?"
"Just to the kitchen," you replied. "Don't worry, I'll be right back. I'll get us some more water.”
“No, please. Don't go. Just stay with me." He tightened his arms around you, not letting go.
"Please," he pleaded, his voice strained. You could see the panic and desperation in his eyes, the fear of losing you still lingering in his mind.
You didn't want to leave him, and you had never seen him so distraught. You felt his grip tighten around your waist, his arms holding you close to him.
"Okay Bucky, I’ll stay. I’m not going anywhere," you whispered, laying back down beside him. He curled up against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and clinging to you as if he were afraid you would disappear.
He curled up against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and clinging to you as if his life depended on it. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be like this.”
You held him tighter as you murmured soft reassurances. "Shh, it's okay, Bucky. You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm here for you."
"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? To help you relax?" Your fingers gently stroked his hair as you placed soft kisses on his forehead, offering him the comfort and security he desperately needed.
He looked at you, his gaze intense, the look in his eyes darkening with desire. "No. No." You knew where this was going.
"Why not baby? You know it will make me feel better." His mood changed in an instant, and he suddenly looked predatory, like a wild animal ready to devour its prey.
He didn't even wait for an answer as his lips captured yours in a heated kiss, his hands roaming your body hungrily. He kissed and sucked your neck, his hand trailing down to your thigh and stroking your skin teasingly. He was already hard against your leg.
You broke the kiss, "Bucky no…”
He moved in and began to kiss the nape of your neck, making you moan. "Just a little? I'll be good to you, baby." He said in his best innocent voice. "Please, I need you." he breathed against your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin.
“We can't keep doing this. Dr. Raynor is very clear about this." Dr. Raynor, his therapist said this wouldn't help him, that it would just be a distraction every time and wouldn't actually help him through his trauma. You both had agreed that she was right.
"Screw the doctor, Y/N. I want you." He pecked a quick kiss to your lips and looked into your eyes, a pleading expression on his face. His hands were everywhere, touching and exploring every inch of your body.
"Will you help me forget about it?" He moved lower to between your thighs. Bucky lifted his head from between your legs and looked at you, "Will you let me pleasure you, my love?"
"No, Bucky. We can't." You said sternly even though your pussy getting wetter by the second. "You know it's not just my decision. We both agree," you whimpered as his finger kept hovering above your pussy, barely touching.
“Mm… I know…” He hummed. “But, I can also see you're getting wet." He slid his hand to touch your panties, rubbing your pussy, feeling the wetness seep through the fabric. "I don't think you want me to stop, doll."
"Mmmm," you moaned and tried to keep yourself from squirming under him. His thumb brushing over your clit and causing you to buck into his touch.
As much as you wanted to give in, you couldn't. You slapped his hands away and sat up. "You know the effect you have on me. That's not something I can control." You said, annoyed.
Then he trailed his hands over your breasts and cupped them, squeezing and kneading, his thumb circling your hardening nipples through the fabric of your dress. You arched your back and pressed into him.
"Doll. Please? I just need a little taste. I'll be good. I'll eat you out, lick your pussy and make you come, let me taste you.” He said, begging, his voice pleading.
You took a deep breath, trying to keep the last bit of your composure. You "Ah! No…” You grabbed his wrist. "I'll do anything for you, but this is not the way. We're not having sex, Bucky."
He grabbed your waist, his hands gripped your hips tightly as he leaned forward, his lips just a breath away from yours.
"If it's going to make you better..." he guided your hand to his crotch, and you could feel how hard he was through his sweats. "You feel that? One look at you and this happened." You wanted to stroke him, but you needed to stay strong, for him.
"Bucky, stop," you pulled away your hand and looked at him. "We talked about this. Why can't you be reasonable?"
"Alright, what if we made a deal?" He asked.
"A deal?" You raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. A deal."
"Go on." You were intrigued.
"No sex, no intercourse, no penetration. How about if I promise that I won't try anything, you let me have a taste. Let me please you."
"Hard pass. You said that the last time and we knew what happened. No." You said firmly, recalling the last time.
"C'mon doll, please? I'll be on my best behavior," he kissed your cheek and whispered in your ear, "I'll make it worth your while, I promise."
"No deal. You're a terrible influence, Bucky Barnes." You moved away from him.
He groaned and leaned closer and bit your ear lightly. You shivered and turned your head slightly. "Okay, if you let me fuck you right now, I'll go see that doctor tomorrow," he offered, and his lips moved over the pulse point on your neck.
You could feel your breath hitching, "Really? You'd go see her willingly?" You beamed at his progress. But you didn't want to cave in yet and give him what he wanted, "But you need to see her regularly after this.”
"How often?" He said, he sucked on your neck, leaving a mark, and started to move on top of you.
"Twice a week, at least," you replied, closing your eyes and enjoying his body against yours as he rubbed his hard-on against you, teasing you through the thin material.
“And what do I get on my end? If I do all that for you, I need something in return. It's a deal. Right?"
"Right," you replied. You thought of what you should do with him. What could you offer in exchange. "You get me?" It sounded absurd even to your own ears. But the look on his face told you that was the best thing you could offer.
Bucky chuckled, "Hmm. That's a very tempting offer." You could see him smiling, and his hands caressing your waist. "But I already got you. Try again, sweets."
You could see how his blue eyes were shining with lust. His pupils dilated, and he licked his lips, his eyes not leaving yours. You could feel his excitement rubbing against your inner thighs.
He moved his hand lower to under your breast. You stilled a moan when his thumb rubbed your nipple. "Okay then, we can have sex as often as you want."
Bucky hummed, and his fingers moved from your breasts to your belly, and lower. "As much as I love that idea, I already get you as often as I want.”
"Oh fuck." You breathed heavily, "Bucky, you're not being fair."
"Says the woman who wants me to go back to that old therapist, so she can dig into my head." He said, his fingers slipping between your legs. "She's annoying. And she asks too many questions."
"She's not annoying. She's just doing her job," you defended Dr. Raynor. Bucky shrugged.
"Fine, I'll suck you off." You could feel yourself getting more and more wet, you wanted him now, but you held back, not yet, not until he agreed to go see Dr. Raynor.
"That's not a bargain, that's just a normal day for us." He said, teasing. "Come on, what are you willing to give me?" He grinned and his tongue traced the outer edge of your ear.
“You're not playing fair." You whined.
"Oh but, baby. I never play fair. So, what are you offering?" He licked your neck and kissed it.
You bit your lips, you knew what to say. You knew exactly what to say. But the only thing is, would you say it? You stared to his blue eyes, those blue ocean that was full of desire.
You stared to his blue eyes, those blue ocean that was full of desire. "Well?" He said, his thumb flicked your lips.
You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible. "You can put it in my ass," you whispered.
Bucky's movements stilled, his eyes narrowing in surprise and confusion. He leaned back slightly, studying your face intently. "I didn’t hear you," he said, his tone demanding an explanation. "What was that?"
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you gathered your courage. With a steadying breath, you spoke louder, your voice carrying more conviction this time. "I said, you can put your dick in my ass."
His lips twitched and his eyes crinkled. "Y/N. Look at me." You shook your head, feeling shy.
He moved his hand and took your chin and turned your face towards him. "Are you sure?" He asked, a serious expression on his face.
"Yes," you replied, your voice quivering slightly. "If you agree to go to Dr. Raynor, if you see her and promise to work with her, I'll let you fuck me in the ass."
"Baby, please, don't," he pleaded, his voice laced with both concern and guilt. "I don't want you to force yourself."
"No, no, no, I'm okay. I want this. I'm willing to try. Beside I’ve been thinking about this. So, no. I'm not forcing myself." You reassured him.
"Fuck. Are you sure, baby girl? This is a big step. I can wait. You know that, right? You're worth the wait. If you're not ready, you should tell me. It's not like we're rushing it."
"I'm ready, Bucky. I trust you," you said, your voice firm yet gentle. You paused, your eyes locking onto his, determination shining through. "However, there's a new condition. You need to see your Dr. Raynor regularly. Make it three times a week," you added, your tone unwavering.
He looked at you, his expression conflicted. You didn't want him to back down, "And I will make it worth your while. I'll let you do anything you want with me."
A mischievous smirk played on his lips, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Anything, huh?" he teased.
"Within reason," you quickly clarified, clearing your throat, ensuring there were boundaries even in your desperation to help him.
"Alright. It's a deal. Three times a week and I get to put it in your ass." Bucky agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You couldn't help but smile too, relief flooding through you. You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"That's how you bargain, baby." He teased you.
“Just kiss me please.” You couldn’t resist him anymore. You missed his dick inside of you, missed the feeling of him thrusting inside you, filling you.
"Only because you asked nicely," he said, his voice tender, before leaning in to give you a quick kiss.
You moaned, "More." You begged, tugging at his hair.
He chuckled and crashed his lips into yours. He pulled you closer, kissing you fiercely. You moaned and opened your mouth, inviting his tongue in. He sucked and swirled his tongue around yours.
Your tongues danced together, fighting for dominance as his hands slid down your body. They landed on your ass and squeezed before he pulled away to pushed your shirt up to your neck, exposing your breasts.
He grinned as he stared at your breast. He cupped them, giving them a squeeze before his thumbs rubbed your hard nipples. You threw your head back and moaned.
He licked a stripe from between your breast to the valley, then to the other breast, giving it the same attention, licking and sucking, then biting lightly.
You moaned at his touch, your breast and your clit felt so sensitive, like you could come any minute. He grinned satisfied by your reaction, he loved how wet and sensitive you got for him. He kissed your neck, biting gently on your skin, leaving his mark on you, he wanted the whole world to know you were his.
"Now, first let me taste that delicious pussy of yours." You gasped as he pulled you toward him and knelt in front of you, putting your legs over his shoulders.
He placed his metal hand on your stomach, and he rubbed your inner thigh to opened your legs wider. He pushed your panties to the side, his hand slowly made his way down to your core, teasing you before inserting his fingers inside you.
You moaned at the sensation. "Bucky, please..." You moaned, desperate for his touch.
"Don't worry baby, I'll give you what you need." He slowly dragged your underwear down. You felt the cool air hit your wet pussy, and you shuddered.
He took a moment to admire the sight of you completely exposed to him, his eyes roamed over every inch of your body. His pupils were blown wide and you could see the desire in his eyes.
"You're so wet, so ready for me." He groaned, his breath tickling your inner thighs.
You felt the tip of his tongue lick a line up to your clit, and you felt a shockwave run through your body. He licked your slit from bottom to top, then he swirled his tongue on your clit, causing you to gasp loudly. He inserted a finger in and started to fuck you fast with his fingers, his tongue licking your clit.
He was so good, his tongue lapping your pussy like a starving man, lapping up your juices, teasing your clit and fucking your hole. You moaned loudly and made him chuckle, "So fucking responsive."
It felt amazing, the sensations of his tongue and fingers was almost too much, but not enough at the same time. His other hands travelled to your nipples, tugging and pulling them, the sensation going straight to your core. He knew exactly how to drive you insane, he was so good at this, and it was so hot.
You could feel your orgasm building, and you tried to hold back. You were so close, but you didn't want to come too soon.
"Do you like this, baby?" He asked, his voice low and husky.
“Yes, I do. It feels so good."
You felt his tongue deep inside of you, lapping and swirling up your juices, while his thumb pressed against your clit making your toes curled. You bucked your hips up to his face, searching for your release.
He added another finger, his fingers pumping in and out, and then curling, hitting the spot inside of you as he continued to eat you out. "I believe this is the spot that gets you going, baby."
"Yes, Bucky." You moaned loudly, not caring about anyone hearing.
His fingers kept stroking you, and his tongue was licking and flicking your clit. "Please don't stop."
"Come for me baby, scream my name." He pumped faster, curling his finger harder. He went up to your clit, sucking and biting. His flesh hand on your breast, twisting your nipples. He pinched your nipple hard, and you came.
Your orgasm hitting you hard. "Ahh. Bucky. Mmmhhh.. Yes, yes, ahh.."
He slowly stopped, his lips leaving your pussy. He pulled out his fingers and licked them clean, moaning at the taste. "Mmhh, so sweet."
"Thank you Bucky."  You pulled his head toward you so you could kiss him. He came up and kissed you passionately. You could taste yourself in his mouth and it was so hot.
"We're not done yet, babydoll," he murmured, his voice deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine. He held your gaze with intensity. "The deal is still on, but first, I need to fuck that tight pussy," he continued, his tone low and seductive, making your heart race with anticipation.
He pushed his briefs down exposing his rock hard erection. You bit your lip, admiring the sight in front of you. He was a very attractive man. His chiseled abs, his strong arms, his piercing blue eyes. And his cock, it never cease to amaze you how you can take him everytime.
Then he pushed your knees up and opened your cunt wide open. You felt so exposed and vulnerable, your pussy lips spread wide open as he moved forward.
You moaned again when his cock made contact with your dripping pussy. He teased you for a little while, rubbing the tip against your swollen folds.
"This going to be hard and fast. So get ready, babydoll."
He said as he began to push himself inside you. You were so wet that he slipped in easily, but the stretch still hurt. You let out a gasp. Your pussy lips wrapped around his cock and you felt his balls hitting against your ass. He then pulled back and slammed into you, making you moaned. He did this a couple of times, slowly fucking you.
"Fuck, baby, you feel so good." He groaned.
"Faster. Oh, Bucky. Please." You begged.
"As you wish." He smirked.
He picked up the pace, slamming into you. You felt his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, stretching your hole wide open. He was using all his strength to fuck you and you loved every second of it. You couldn't believe how good it felt. You were screaming his name and moaning, not caring about the world. All you cared about is the feeling of Bucky's cock pounding into you, hitting all the right spots.
"Oh Bucky, oh god, please don't stop." You felt his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, stretching your hole wide open. He held your legs tightly, preventing you from squirming.
Your legs were wrapped around his waist, as his hands gripped your hips. His fingers dug into your flesh, sure to leave bruises. But you didn't care. The only thing you were focused on is how good Bucky was fucking you.
"Do you like that, Y/N?" He said, his voice low and husky.
"Mhmm." You mumbled, too lost in pleasure to respond properly. He was fucking you so hard, you could feel his balls slapping against your ass.
"That's what I thought." He growled, leaning down and sucking on your nipple. You cried out as he bit down on your sensitive bud.
You felt your orgasm building up inside you. He started thrusting harder, and deeper, hitting your G-spot over and over again. "Oh, Bucky, I'm gonna cum!" You screamed.
"Milk my cock, baby.” He grunted. With that you felt your orgasm hit you hard. Wave after wave of pleasure swept through your body and you felt your pussy contracting around his cock.
He didn't stop pounding into you as you came, instead he fucked you harder, pushing you through your orgasm. He then pinned your arms above your head, leaving you completely helpless and at his mercy. "Bucky, please!"
"Oh no, baby, I'm not finished with you yet." His grip was so tight, and he continued to thrust into you. He used his one hand holding your hands there while he used the other to reach down and rub your clit. You moaned and arched your back, loving the feeling of his hands on you.
"That's right, keep doing that. Let me hear you."
You were lost in pleasure, completely oblivious to anything else around you. You were a quivering mess beneath him, and you couldn't form a coherent sentence.  This time it went much deeper than his normal thrusts. The pleasure was overwhelming. Your second orgasm was approaching, and you knew you couldn't last much longer.
"Oh yes, Bucky, I'm close. Please, fuck, oh god."
"I'm close too, babydoll. Come with me."
"YES! YES!" You screamed, reaching your second orgasm.
His thrust became more erratic, and you could tell he was about to come too. You felt his cock pulsing inside of you, and he let out a loud groan as he released his seed into you.
"Oh, fuck!" He cried out, his face scrunched up in pleasure.
You both rode out your orgasms together, his head falling onto your chest. Your legs were shaky, and your heart was pounding.
You both lay there, panting, trying to catch your breaths. You smiled as you looked up at him, "Wow. That was amazing."
"You're damn right, babydoll. You're so beautiful, and I love you so much." He replied, kissing your forehead.
He let you catch your breath first before leaning over, his eyes locking onto yours. "Are you ready for the main event now?" he said, a playful glint in his eyes as he winked at you.
"Yes." You said, nervously. You were both excited and nervous for what was about to happen. You had never done anal sex before, and you were scared that it would hurt.
"Don't worry, baby, I will make sure to be gentle. If it hurts, just tell me to stop and I will." He assured you by gently kissing your lips.
"I trust you, Buck." You smiled, feeling a little bit better.
He climbed off you and reached for a bottle from the nightstand drawer. "What's that?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.
He sat on the bed and opened the bottle. It was lube. "Oh." You blushed. "You had that just lying around?"
Sitting back on the bed, he opened the bottle. It was lube. "Oh." Your cheeks flushed with surprise. "You had that just lying around?" you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice.
"Yes. Just in case," he said, his tone nonchalant.
"In case of what?" you inquired, raising an eyebrow in playful curiosity.
"In case we did this," he replied, gesturing between the two of you, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
You couldn't help but giggle, realizing you had fallen right into his trap. "You cheeky bastard, were you planning this all along?" you teased.
He flashed you a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, let's say I had a hunch you might eventually succumb. Although, I must admit, this scenario played out differently than I imagined," he added, referring to being dragged to the therapist, his tone teasing yet affectionate.
"You're such a naughty man, James Buchanan Barnes," your eyes narrowing playfully.
"That's why you love me," he replied with a wink, his tone flirtatious.
A tender smile graced your lips, and you let out a soft sigh. "One of the many reasons," you confessed, your voice softening as you gazed at him with affection.
Then, there was a brief silence. Bucky broke the quiet, his voice laced with concern, "Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want to force you into something you're not comfortable with."
"I do, really. I'm just a bit nervous, you know? What if it hurts?"
His hand brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. "It might hurt, yes," he acknowledged. "But I will make sure it won't be long. If it becomes too much, you need to tell me, alright? I don't want you to keep it to yourself."
You nodded, "I trust you, Bucky. How do we do this?"
A reassuring smile curved his lips. "That means the world to me, Y/N."
His fingers traced delicate patterns on your skin, his touch soothing. "Well, I need to prep you first. " he whispered, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "I need to make sure you're ready and lubed up, then I will ease myself into you."
With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, surrendering to the moment, trusting Bucky to guide you. "Okay," you said, your voice barely more than a breath. "Let's do this."
He opened the bottled and you shivered in anticipation. He poured a big amount of the liquid on his hand and spread it all over his member, giving special attention to the head.
He poured more lube on his hands and he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you softly. He gently pressed his finger against your entrance, circle your hole. You tensed up a bit, and he stopped. "Relax, doll. I'm just massaging you, don't be so tense. I need you to loosen up."
He kissed you again, and this time, you relaxed. He continued his ministrations, "I'm gonna try to enter one finger, okay? Let me know if you feel any discomfort."
You nodded and watched as he poured more lube on his fingers. Slowly pushing his finger past the ring of muscle and slowly eased it inside. You moaned as his finger slipped inside, stretching your walls. It was a weird sensation, and you felt a slight discomfort, but not a painful one.
"How does that feel, doll?" He asked, his voice low and husky. "Does it hurt?"
You took a deep breath, trying to adjust to the sensation. "Yes, it feels weird, but I'm okay. Don't stop," you assured him.
"That's normal," he said, his tone soothing, and he placed a soft kiss on your neck. "Just try to relax, okay?" His words were comforting, and you found yourself nodding, trusting him completely.
He was gentle and slow, taking his time. He started to move his finger, sliding it in and out, until he thought you were ready for a second one. He pushed the second finger inside, and you moaned.
"Do you like that?"
"Mmhmm." You moaned, your eyes closed.
He smiled, moving his fingers in and out, making sure to stretch you well.
"You think you're ready for a third one, sweetheart?"
"Yes, please."
He pushed the third finger in and you moaned, arching your back. The pain was still there but now, there was pleasure, and you were beginning to feel the pleasure taking over the pain.
"You’re doing so good, baby. I can't wait to fuck your ass, baby. I'm going to fill you up." He mumbled. kissing you deeply.
His kisses went down to your jawline and you moaned, gripping his hair. He curled his fingers inside and you screamed, arching your back.
"Does that feel good, doll?"
"God, yes! More, please." You begged, pushing your hips against his hand.
"Fuck, baby. Your ass feels so good. So tight and warm." He growled, licking your nipples, sucking on them, teasing you. His metal hand went to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves.
His hands and tongue were all over you, making you feel so good, so loved. You were squirming and moaning, digging your nails into his skin. You could felt your orgasm approaching.
"Please, Bucky. I need you. Please." You moaned, gripping his shoulders.
"I've got you, doll. Just hang on." He growled, he circling your clit and you cried out, the pressure feeling good, so good.
"Let me know who makes you feel this way." He whispered, his hot breath tickling your neck.
"Oh god! Yes! Bucky!” You cried as you came. You laid there panting, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You couldn't believe, you came from his finger on your ass.
"You're such a good girl, doll. So perfect, so beautiful. So amazing." He growled, pulling his fingers out of your ass.
"You okay, sweetheart?" He asked, rubbing his nose against yours.
"Yeah, that was... That was surprisingly good." You panted, smiling.
"Good.” He smiled brushing your hair, “I think you're ready for my cock now." He poured generous amount of lube to his cock. He stroked himself, getting his cock coated with the lubricant. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, I'm ready, Buck."
He cupped your face tenderly, his thumb caressing your cheek. "If it's too painful, tell me to stop, okay? Your comfort is my priority."
"I will, Buck."
You looked down at his hard cock as he got into position. He lined his cock on your entrance. Slowly, he entered you, making sure not to hurt you. It was a very different sensation. It didn't feel like you were being torn apart, but you did feel a slight burning sensation, and the fullness was quite intense.
"Oh, fuck!" He groaned. "God, baby, you're so fucking tight!”
You tensed, and Bucky hissed, he looked at you, his eyes clouded with lust. "Baby, you gotta relax. If you tense up, you'll make it more difficult for the both of us." He said, his breath labored.
You took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to relax. "Sorry, it just feels weird. But, don't stop, I'm okay." He moved in a bit further, and you bit your lip.
The more he pushed, the more you felt like he was tearing you apart. You whimpered and he stopped, caressing your face. "Baby... tell me if it hurt. Don't bear the pain. I can stop, if you want me to." He reassured you.
"I'm fine. Just getting used to the feeling. Don't stop."
He pushed further and further, and you cried out, clutching onto him. "You're doing so good, sweetheart."
When he was finally fully sheathed inside you, you both let out a sigh.
"Oh my God, Buck." You panted, moaning at the feeling. You immediately felt too full. You felt so full, and it felt so good. You were breathing hard, adjusting yourself to the size of his cock. Why did it have to be so huge? It would hurt less if it were a bit smaller.
"Are you okay, baby?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Just adjusting myself to your size. Fuck, you're so big. I feel so full.” You groaned.
"Where's the fun in being small, doll?" He smirked, biting his lips.
"Don't be cheeky," you retorted, rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
He kissed you, his tongue swirling with yours, and you moaned. He pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting your mouth to his. He wiped it off with his thumb and sucked it clean, licking his lips.
"Fuck. That's so hot, Bucky."
"You're taking my dick so well, doll. I can't believe it." He said. "I'm going to move now okay?" You nodded and he moved his hips, and you gasped. He started to move slowly, and you moaned, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.
"Fuck, you feel so good. So warm, so tight."
Bucky was moving so slow, it was almost torture. He was so slow and gentle, treating you as if you were a fragile porcelain doll. You could see how hard he tried to hold himself back, his eyes closed, and his teeth clenched.
"You can move faster, you won't hurt me." You told him.
"Doll, I don't want to hurt you. You're still so fucking tight, and it takes everything in me to hold back."
"It's not gonna hurt, Buck. Please, don't hold back. Just do it." You begged.
“Tell me if you need me to slow down or stop, okay?"
He pulled out almost completely and slammed back in, making you moan. You moaned and wrapped your legs around his waist, making him go even deeper. He groaned, and you whimpered, digging your nails into his flesh.
"Yes, yes." You braced yourself again. The sound of your skin slapping was loud and obscene, and the feeling was overwhelming.
"Ah, Bucky, it's so good." You moaned, feeling him pounding into you.
He leaned in to kiss you, his tongue exploring your mouth. You moaned into his mouth. "You gave me your first time, doll. Thank you." He whispered.
He moved his hips faster, and you cried out, you could feel him speeding up. He was panting, his forehead pressed against yours. You started moving your hips with him, meeting him with every thrust.
"Fuck. You're such a good girl. Taking my cock like this."
You were a moaning mess. The only words that came out from your mouth were his name and incoherent babble.
"Faster, Bucky, please!" You urged him.
He complied and picked up the pace. He started thrusting into you faster and deeper. He was fucking you hard and fast. The headboard of the bed was slamming on the wall. You were lost in the sensation.
"Is this what you want, babydoll? You want me to fuck your ass roughly, don't you?"
"Oh god, Bucky! Yes, yes!" You moaned.
"What a bad girl, wanting to get her ass fucked.” He brushed your hair from your face and stared at you as he fucking you. “God, Y/N, you look so fucking sexy. Your breasts bouncing and jiggling, the way your mouth hang open as you scream my name, the way you're clenching around my cock. You're fucking perfect."
His words went straight to your core, "Oh Bucky, you feel so good." You moaned, feeling yourself clench around his dick.
Bucky pounded harder, making sure to hit that spot every time. You moaned and cried as the pleasure intensified. You couldn't even think straight. You couldn't remember what was going on, or why, all you could think of was the feeling of Bucky's cock inside you.
"Are you close, baby?" He asked.
"So close." You gasped.
Bucky continued thrusting, chasing his orgasm. His movements were erratic and frantic. He pounded into you, his balls slapping against your skin. "I’m close too. I'm gonna come, doll. Where do you want me to come? Do you want me to pull out?"
"No! Don't stop! Please don't stop!" You cried.
Bucky's movements were frantic and wild. His breathing was labored and his moans were louder than before. "Fuck! I'm gonna come!" He yelled.
You were seeing stars as you screamed his name, coming around his cock. You could hear him grunting, and soon enough he came too, his cock pulsing inside you. You felt him spilling his load into you, his hot come filling your ass. He kept thrusting until he was done.
He collapsed on top of you, his sweaty chest sticking to yours. You were panting, trying to catch your breath. He kissed your neck and rolled to the side, taking his spent dick out of you. You hissed and felt a trail of cum falling from your hole.
"You did so great, baby. I can't believe it. How are you feeling? Does it hurt?" He caressed your cheeks.
You turned to face him, a smile on your face. "Yes, I'm sore. But it was worth it. Thank you, Bucky.”
"You are such a perfect girl for me. Thank you, doll. I love you."
You were so tired afterwards, he overstimulated you. You came too many times and you could barely speak. He held you and kissed your forehead, whispering how proud he was of you.
You were lying there with him as he stroked your hair, humming a soft melody. The room smelled of sex, but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to be in his arms. Your muscles and ass would be sore the next day, but it was worth it. It was a special experience and you couldn’t be happier.
"Stay here, I'm going to clean you up." He went to get up and get a towel, he knew you were too sore to move.
"You don't need to, just lie down with me."
"But you are a mess. We both are. I need to take care of you. You are the one that has my seed inside you."
"Bucky, please," you pleaded softly, not wanting him to go through the trouble.
He didn't listen to you. He gently kissed your forehead before getting up and walking over to the bathroom, giving you a perfect view of his toned toned ass. You giggled and shook your head, he was such a dork. He came back with a warm wet towel.
When he came back, you couldn't help to admire how hot he looked right now, his body glistening with sweat and all messy, thoroughly fucked. He was still naked, standing in front of you, his cock hanging between his legs.
As he returned, his eyes caught yours, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "What are you smiling about?" he asked.
You bit your lip, trying to hide your amusement, but it escaped in a soft giggle. "I'm just enjoying the view." you replied with a playful grin.
He chuckled, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. "Well, I'm glad you find it enjoyable," he teased, his eyes lingering on your face before he shifted his gaze down your body, and then back up again. "I must say, the feeling is quite mutual."
Your cheeks flushed with warmth at his boldness. "Smooth talker, aren't you?"
He grinned, his confidence infectious. "Only when I'm around someone as stunning as you."
You rolled your eyes playfully, but the compliment had its intended effect, making you feel both flattered and a little bashful. "You know how to charm a girl, Sergeant Barnes."
He winked at you, his smile turning into a smirk. "I aim to please."
He crawled into bed with you, Bucky gently began cleaning you up, his touch gentle yet firm. You were exhausted and sore, and in that moment, his care felt like a lifeline.
He spread your legs and started cleaning you up, removing the cum and wetness that was leaking from your entrance. "Are you okay? I wasn't too rough, was I?" he asked, looking at you with concern.
"You were perfect, baby. This is exactly what I wanted. I'm so happy right now.” You said and smiled at him.
He ran the warm cloth along your thigh, and then did the same to your other leg. His hair was messy, but his eyes were sparkling with contentment. You couldn’t help but stare at him, mesmerized by the sight of him.
He broke the silence, his voice heavy with the weight of his confession, "It was Zemo."
"Huh?" You were too mesmerized with his beauty, so you didn't pay attention.
His jaw clenched with the memory, as he wiped you clean, gently. "My nightmare." He began, his voice strained. "We were back at the Berlin facility, and he was talking about Sokovia. He wanted me to become the Winter Soldier again. But I couldn't, not after everything I've been through. I couldn't go back to that darkness."
His voice cracked, and you could feel his pain as if it were your own. "But then he said that you were going to get killed instead. I didn't have a choice, I had to do it. I was fighting myself, trying to break free and reach you, but I was trapped, helpless, and just screaming..."
His breathing became rapid, shallow gasps escaping his lips. "Hey... hey..." you murmured, gently bringing his face to meet your gaze. His eyes were clouded with fear, refusing to meet yours directly.
"Bucky, look at me," you implored, your voice soft yet unwavering.
His blue eyes finally bore into yours, searching for solace amidst the storm of his thoughts. "It wasn't real. I'm here, safe and sound, and so are you. You're safe now. He's gone," you assured, your words carrying a soothing cadence.
Moving closer, you delicately stroked his face, your touch a balm to his turmoil. A tender kiss landed on his forehead, a silent promise of security. "Zemo is not here, and neither is HYDRA. You are safe, and I am safe. They can't hurt us anymore."
He remained silent, his vulnerability laid bare before you.
"You can't change the past, Bucky," you continued, your voice gentle but firm. "It's behind us, and we have to live in the present. We're together now, and that's all that matters. I'm not going anywhere."
"Yeah? You promise?"
"Of course, I do. I'm not leaving you, Bucky." You tried to lighten up the mood, “Where else can I find someone that can fuck me like you?”
He laughed, “Yes, no one allowed to fuck you. Only me.” He was getting possessive. He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead. "Thank you baby, thank you for everything. I love you, babydoll."
"I love you too, Bucky. Get some sleep. You need rest."
"I love you more, doll. Sleep well."
He cleaned himself up, then lay next to you and covered you with a blanket. He cuddled up close and wrapped his arm around your waist. You snuggled up against his chest, closing your eyes.
Tumblr media
A/N : Woah congrats, I'm glad you can make it till the end with how long the smut is. Is it to your liking? Gentle and Needy Bucky are in my top 3 so I've been really wanting to make this kind of story. That aftercare especially ugh I feel like it doesn't get enough attention.
Stay tuned for version 2 - it's going to be packed with angst, fluff, and some hurt/comfort, maybe with a touch of mild smut. Is that something you're interested in? Let me know!
Tumblr media
If you guys like my story, please check out my other stories : masterlist
Happy sinning! (is that a word? lol)
779 notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 8 months
Text
Fic idea - Bucky’s family & time travel
You know how I keep proposing ideas, then adding it to my wips and then I stare at it while it stares at me. Heres another. I'm so sorry. Swear this will end in fluff, you'll just suffer in between. So imagine the most angstiest angst where Bucky gets married and has a child with his sweetheart before he’s sent to war. He's loved her his whole life and now they have a little one together; nothing could be more perfect. He promises he'll be back safe and sound with a kiss to her forehead and plenty of kisses for his baby girl.
Until Hydra captures him and turns him into the Winter Soldier. His first mission is to eliminate any familial ties. He doesn't feel anything when he pulls the trigger. He's successful and carries out hundreds of others kills, each searing itself in some part of his brain but he's constantly wiped before he can piece anything together.
But then he's rescued and he has to pick up the broken fragments of his memories and its too much of a fog for him to understand. At the very least he has his best friend by his side again and he's slowly starting to remember.
His first question is about his sweet y/n and his little girl.
His happiness is short-lived when Steve doesn't say anything. Bucky doesn't understand why he avoids his gaze, why he suddenly looks so distraught. No amount of pleading or begging works, his best friend doesn't breathe a word, asking Bucky to please let things be.
To learn to live with the way things were.
He can't do that though. He needs answers. When the team is away on a mission, he find a way to get into his records that SHIELD kept on him, wondering if they ever had anything on file about his life before he was captured. Every single detail about who he was before the war to after is written with details and camera footage.
He doesn't move from where he's seated, a blank expression on his face while everyone returns. Steve approaches Bucky first, worried about why the soldier looked so pale as if he'd aged 10 years in the past 3 days.
"I killed them?" His broken whisper of a voice breaks Steve's heart when he sees the file Bucky was looking at, a picture of him, his little girl on his shoulders and wife all smiling at the camera. The sheet he's clutching onto has their names along with deceased written write across the sheet.
Bucky is inconsolable.
His dreams are no longer about others he has killed. He's flooded with memories of her; the soft ivory dress she wore on their wedding day, the baby pink lace she had on when he undressed her that same night, the scent of her perfume, the sound of her laugh, the kicks of their baby, the sound of her happy squeals when he blew raspberries onto her chubby cheeks.
Those happy memories are quickly replaced with her pleading for him to remember. To just remember at least once.
Jamie, it's me, please, m'your y/n, Bucky, don't-
D-daddy?
Baby, go to your room-Bucky no-
Mama!
Please, not Bella, James, you love her baby, you love us- please remember me-
I-I love you
The pain of Bucky's cries are too much for anyone to handle. They're a different type of sadness. So much so, even Tony's starting to worry when he doesn't see Bucky for days on end. He begs to be put back in cyro, to have his memories wiped, to have his brain fried, anything to forget. He doesn't care about the pain, he just wants it all to end.
Imagine theres a mission that involves time travel. Steve and Sam stand on the platform, ready to enter the portal, setting their timers for a specific date in the past. When Sam catches Steve adding another date without telling him, he quietly adds it on his suit as well, piecing what the Captain plans on doing.
The mission takes a little longer than anticipated. Steve is surprised when Sam is beside him when he travels back to the 40's, the both of them now with a new mission in mind, alternating the future be damned. If they had a chance to give Bucky the life he deserved again, they would do it. Bucky doesn't ask for much. In fact he never asked for anything. He deserved this.
Imagine the shock everyone gets when the portal opens up at the compound and there are now 4 people on the platform. Steve, Sam, a woman and a little girl no older than 2. She's dressed in a simple dotted dress, still wearing an apron around her waist while her baby stays clinging around her, tucking her face into her mommas neck.
Imagine the way Bucky would collapse with her when he sees his family again, crying endlessly being able to hold his wife and child, something he thought he'd lost forever. Everyone gives the little family some privacy while he hugs and kisses them, cuddling them to his chest, still right on the lab floor. Explanations for everything can wait, right now he can't believe he has his angels back.
Imagine the way they'd fall asleep that night, sleeping in bed for once, now that he's reunited with his y/n and his Bella.
imagine the endless love he'd make to her while Bella spends time with her God Fathers, aka all the Avenger men.
Imagine she's pregnant soon after and they can continue being a family in the present, doing all the things they always dreamed of.
Anyway, just a thought.
1K notes · View notes
lvrdrafts · 9 months
Text
It Is Just A Joke
★ Summary: You hear Bucky compare you to Natasha and it makes you question if Bucky ever really loved you, but can Bucky fix what he has done before it is too late
★ Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader
★ Warnings: Being compared, suicide
★ Word Count: 2,000+
★ Genre: Angst
★ A/N: Should I make a permanent tag list?
Fluff Version
You had a past filled with heartbreak, as you had encountered one boyfriend after another who cheated on you, citing your looks as the reason for their breakup or abusing you physically. Your self-esteem suffered immensely, leaving you feeling unworthy of love and affection.
However, everything changed when you became an Avenger and met Bucky Barnes, the man who made you feel cherished and appreciated in ways you had never experienced before. You were still going to therapy from the trauma they left you but Bucky helped you get through it and you depression even if he didn't know that.
Your shared experiences as Avengers brought you two closer together. Bucky understood the pain you had endured, and you connected on a deep level. He saw the beauty within you, which went far beyond your physical appearance. Your love grew strong, and you became inseparable.
One day, you happened to overhear Bucky talking to Steve and you wanted to surprise him with an attack full of kisses but you stopped in your tracks as you heard Bucky say, "Steve, you've seen Natasha's body, right? She's incredible. I sometimes wish she was my girlfriend."
“I know I see you staring at her all the time" Steve says chuckling "you really should stop staring before you make it obvious, besides your dating someone punk”
Your heart shattered into pieces as you felt the old wounds of insecurity resurface. You couldn't bear to hear the man you loved longing for someone else, especially someone as stunning as Natasha.
"I care about her a lot, Steve, but sometimes I can't help but think about Natasha and how much better it would be with her." Bucky says and you felt as if your heart is being ripped out.
Steve frowned, sensing where this was going. "Bucky, you know it's not fair to compare Y/N to Natasha or anyone else? Everyone's different."
“Y/N’s pretty I know but she just doesn’t compare to Nat,” that was all it took for your heart to completely obliterate into a trillion pieces. You were no longer the only one that thought you were nothing compared to her. You didn't want Bucky to leave you for someone else, you didn't want him to leave you like how they all did.
In the solitude of your room, tears streamed down your face as the weight of Bucky's words crushed your spirit. All the progress you had made in feeling loved and cherished was unraveling before your eyes. The old wounds of heartbreak and insecurity resurfaced with a vengeance, enveloping you in suffocating darkness.
Questions plagued your mind. Were you not enough for Bucky? Would he eventually leave you for Natasha or someone else? Did he only settle for you because he couldn't have her? The demons of self-doubt tormented you, and you felt utterly inadequate, unable to compete with the image of perfection you held in your mind of Natasha.
You couldn't bear seeing Bucky, it felt as if you were gonna burst into tears every time you saw him. You tried avoiding him as best as you could for a few weeks but being in the same building together 24/7 was harder than you expected.
Each time he tried to reach out or spend time with you, you made excuses, declining his invitations and pushing him away.
"Bucky, I'm really busy right now," you replied one day when he asked if you wanted to grab coffee. "Maybe some other time."
His face fell, but he tried to hide his disappointment. "Sure, Y/N," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "Just let me know when you're free."
In an attempt to bridge the growing distance, Bucky decided to reach out to you. "Hey, babu want to hang out later? Maybe we can grab a bite or train together?" Bucky says with a huge grin.
"Sorry, Bucky, I have a lot of work to catch up on. Rain check?" you say making up another excuse to be away from him.
He sighed, knowing he couldn't push you. "Sure, no problem. Just let me know when you're free," he replied, trying to hide his disappointment.
Over the next few days, he tried again, asking if you wanted to join him for a movie night or go for a walk, but each time, you declined, always with an excuse. He couldn't help but feel like you were purposely keeping your distance, and it hurt more than he wanted to admit.
One evening, Bucky found you in the common area, sitting by yourself and looking lost in thought. He decided that enough was enough; he needed answers.
"Y/N, we need to talk," he said, approaching you cautiously.
You sighed, knowing this conversation was inevitable. "Sure," you replied, trying to keep your emotions in check.
Bucky hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I've noticed that you've been avoiding me," he began cautiously. "Is there something wrong? Did I do something?"
You looked away, not wanting to meet his gaze. "It's just... things have been a bit busy lately," you said, your voice lacking conviction.
Bucky frowned, sensing that you were holding something back. "Y/N, please, I can tell something's bothering you. You can talk to me, you know."
He reached out to touch your hand, but you pulled away, and he felt the rejection like a physical blow. "I get that, Y/N, but it feels like you're shutting me out completely," he said, his voice tinged with hurt. "I thought we were in this together, no matter what."
You took a deep breath, knowing that it was time to address the elephant in the room. You didn't want to bear the pain anymore "I overheard you, Bucky," you admitted, your voice wavering. "You were talking to Steve, and you said... you said I wasn't as pretty as Natasha."
Bucky's face paled, and he looked like he had been punched in the gut. "Y/N, I..." he stammered, searching for the right words.
"Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. It was just a joke, I didn't mean for you to take it to heart. " he said. He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to apologize, unable to confront his own emotions.
"I thought jokes were supposed to be funny" you snapped back at Bucky. "Do you see me laughing?"
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I didn't think you'd take it so seriously, and it was a private conversation" he said, trying to justify himself.
"You were in the fucking common room a public area and maybe you should think before you speak" you shot back, feeling the tension escalating.
The argument continued, the words becoming sharper and more hurtful with each passing moment. It seemed like every unresolved issue and insecurity came to the surface, and neither of you held back. You both said things you didn't mean, fueled by pain and frustration.
Just as things were about to reach a breaking point, Natasha walked into the room, sensing the tension. "Hey, what's going on here?" she asked, looking between the two of you.
You took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. "Ask Bucky," you said, your voice trembling with emotion, before storming out of the room.
Bucky stood there, feeling a mix of guilt and regret. He didn't know how to fix things, and he realized just how much he had hurt you with his thoughtless words.
The night you left the Avengers tower, you disappeared without a trace, leaving everyone worried and confused. Bucky was consumed by guilt and regret, unable to forgive himself for his hurtful words that pushed you away. He had a sleepless night searching for any clue about your whereabouts, but there was no sign of you.
The following day, the news broke out that an unnamed Avenger was found jumping off a bridge in a near by park. As the report went viral, the Avengers' concern grew, and Bucky's heart sank. He immediately recognized the description and knew it must be you.
As Tony called an emergency meeting he revealed that you had severe depression and that you were at your breaking point. You had just gotten through the death of you family and the scars left by your abusers growing up had left a toll on you.
Tony had kept this hidden because you had pleaded no one to know and that was why he set up you go to therapy but for a few weeks you have been missing it. While Tony was explaining this Bucky just sat there in regret and felt dumb for not noticing the signs earlier.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
721 notes · View notes
soft-and-bitter · 1 year
Text
We Can Last Forever
Tumblr media
Mafia!Bucky x Ex!Reader
You turn to an old flame in a moment of desperation. Bucky takes full advantage of the situation to bargain for something he's wanted as soon as he set eyes on you.
Word Count: 1853
Warning(s): swearing, descriptions drug use and sexual situations
If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving some feedback, thanks! ❤
M A S T E R L I S T
Tumblr media
"Look who we have here," he murmured, smirking. There wasn't a trace of worry in his tone, nor on his handsome face. And for reasons you couldn't quite grasp, these facts only served to elevate your own stress, the urgency of the situation now clearer than ever.
Bucky was your last resort.
"Hi," you greeted. Despite the sheer brevity involved, even you could hear how unsure you sounded, but it was just as well; you were winging this after all, what with all your options up in flames. On the other hand, you also couldn't fuck this up either, because what else would you come up with if this didn't work out?
With a deep breath, you tried again. "Hi, Bucky. I'm sorry this is so last minute."
He tilted his head, the black turtleneck he wore accentuating the steep line of his jaw. "It wouldn't have been if you'd called ahead of time. Oh, wait," he said, lip curling, "you got rid of my number from your phone. How could I have ever forgotten?"
You looked away, both hands gripping your phone behind your purse. Rather than place it next to you on the plush sofa, you'd opted to set it on your lap. Maybe you saw it as a barrier, however meagre, just something other than the distance that separated you from Bucky. For protection? But it was you who had sought him out, not the other way around.
There was no stilling your frantic thoughts, all those contradictions and uncertainties colliding against each other to form some ugly kaleidoscope of confusion in your head. Several stories below, the club was at the height of its frenzy, the bass throbbing faintly against the walls of Bucky's office, a cursed soundtrack to score the situation you were in, with no promise it was ending anytime soon.
"I . . . it felt like the right thing to do at the time," you tried explaining, still clutching your phone tightly. "I wasn`t ready to deal with the truth."
He chuckled softly. "Yet here you are," he said, each word sliding past his lips in a slow drawl. "I guess there's no keeping me out of your life after all, despite that text of yours."
You turned your head to look back up at him again. Bucky was leaning against his expansive chrome and glass desk, long fingers curled around the edges. His jet-black suit was tailored within an inch of its life; one of his cufflinks winking at you playfully, as if amused by your discomfort and panic.
"You're right, I guess I can't."
He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Well, it is what it is. Now tell me why you're here."
Here was your moment, your golden opportunity. You didn't shy away from the details. Why would you when everything you described was all part of his sordid world, the drugs and the money owed, the nefarious parties involved? And so you laid it all out before him like a spread made up of your family's suffering: stressed and overworked, David had gone back to an old habit his dirt bag of an uncle had first introduced him to more than a decade ago. One hit after another, then another, and now your brother—the smarter of the two, in your opinion, and certainly the more successful—was now in so much debt he'd brought up the possibility of selling your mom's home for cash.
Bucky didn't react when you told him how much you needed to borrow. That soothed your nerves somewhat; if he wasn't fazed by the amount, then maybe he'd be more willing to part with his money.
You hoped.
"We'll have the money back in your hands before you even get a chance to miss it," you assured with a smile you hoped was blinding enough for Bucky. "David just has to get through this hump, but once he does, everything will be fine."
Just for a moment you wondered whose worries you were really trying to assuage—Bucky's or yours? Because paying off David's dealer was one thing, but your brother had also promised to check into rehab asap. Yet even with his high-paying FAANG job in Silicon Valley, he had already blown through his savings, together with any credit he'd been approved for. To top it all off, the massive bonus he kept harping on about wouldn't get paid out until the end of the year. You yourself had funnelled whatever money you could spare to help his cause. Where the hell would the money come from until then?
Bucky sighed audibly, pulling you out of your thoughts. "You haven't exactly explained why I should help you in the first place," he said.
He wasn't wrong, you realized. And really, it was what you`d hoped to avoid all along. "Listen, I know you probably won't believe me when I say this, but . . . I guess I thought we had something special going on between us. Special enough that I felt I could turn to you."
"You're right, I don't believe you," he confirmed, shaking his head. "Try harder, won't you?"
You stared up at him, a furrow between your brows. "It's the truth, Bucky. I was scared, okay? And let's face it: you knew I'd be, didn't you? Otherwise you would've told me from the start what the hell you really were."
He didn't respond to that right away. In the silence that ensued, with the club's bass pounding at the same speed as your heartbeat, you began to doubt yourself. Couldn't you have handled that with a little more finesse? What if Bucky was offended by your response that he decided he was going to turn you away?
When he finally spoke, it was with an edge of mockery and triumph in his voice. "Just so we're clear: you've come to ask a crime lord to help you when the very fact of me being one had you running off in the first place."
"I couldn't think of anyone else to go to."
Bucky scoffed. "I sure hope the irony's not lost on you."
The smile you offered him was sardonic at best. "Believe me, it's not."
Just when you were convinced that you'd screwed this up entirely, Bucky pushed himself off the edge of his desk and moved towards you, closing the distance. Neon blue strobe lights flashed through the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the club, casting otherworldly shadows across his face as he stalked nearer. You didn't turn your head to watch when he dropped into the sofa next to you, stretching his arms wide across the headrest. His fingers feathered against one of your shoulder blades.
From the corner of your eye you watched as he tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, sighing once again. "If you want my help, you'll comply with whatever I set out for you," he said.
"Like what?"
You could feel his gaze on you. "For starters, I'd like a kiss."
"Are you serious? Now?"
"Now," he echoed.
"And that's it?"
He gave a light shrug. "The night's still young. We'll just have to see how things go."
"But why?"
"Why not?" he countered, fingers drumming against the headrest. "Besides, you're the one who thought there was something special between us. Let's see what's left."
For a moment, you hesitated. Bucky's request was simple, but that was where the uncertainty lay. There was something between the two of you, even now, even after you left him in the lurch, that it was enough for you to reach out to him. You were doubtful a kiss would prove that to him, though.
There had been so much more you'd done with him, after all.
"Well?"
You studied his face. His expression was still passive, but curiosity shone bright in his eyes. What choice did you have? David was counting on you now, his own fear and panic elevating your own. With a tilt of your head you leaned forward, eyes falling closed, as you caught Bucky's lips with yours.
Bucky didn't react at first, and you nearly stopped, too shy and uncertain to entertain the possibility of being unwanted, that this was just a cheap way for him to get back at you. But then his lips moved against yours, bold and intentional; when he coaxed your mouth opened and his tongue slid past your teeth, you realized.
He still wanted you.
Both your phone and your purse dropped somewhere below you as one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders tightly. Bucky drew you in deeper, his hold fierce, lips desperate and bruising, pulling you into a well of memories: his naked body against yours, mouth lingering on intimate spots that made you cry out in ecstasy, the sweet words he'd whispered in your ear while you came down from your high. Let me give you more. Let me give you everything. You just have to stay. Can you do that? For me?
His lips latched onto the side of your neck as you lost yourself further in his touch, fingers tangled in his dark hair, while his large hand fanned across your breast—
Your phone was like a grenade going off. You jerked back in panic, gasping for breath while the familiar melody on your device blared throughout the room. It was Bucky who got to it first.
"How fitting," he said, turning your phone around so you could see the screen. "It's your brother."
Heart hammering in your chest, you didn't move at first.
"Go ahead, answer it," he ordered, holding out your phone to you. "Tell David the money will be wired to his account in less than thirty and he's got you to thank for this."
His words were like a bucket of cold water flung at your face. With sudden clarity you remembered why you'd come here in the first place, and it wasn't to re-ignite things with an old flame. You needed Bucky's help, and, to your immense relief, he was giving it to you.
When you accepted your brother's call you cut straight to the chase, telling him of the lifeline Bucky was throwing his way. The only one, you emphasized, hanging up before he could profess any gratitude. David had work to do, but you'd done your part. Your mom would get to keep her house, just like she deserved to.
You looked at Bucky. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to my family."
He smirked at you, his hair now tousled thanks to your doing. "Don't thank me just yet, sweetheart. We're not quite done, are we?"
During the call one of his hands had crept along the inside of your thigh. It remained there, his hold entirely too tight and too hot, even through the fabric of your slacks. When Bucky spoke, you didn't miss the raw desire in his voice, the predatory anticipation that lingered on his smirk.
"We'll finally finish what we started, sweetheart. Just like we were always meant to."
Tumblr media
Jimin's "Like Crazy" had me in such a chokehold when I first listened to it that it inspired this whole damn story; it's the song I imagined blasting down in the club while Reader haggles with Bucky. Hope you guys enjoyed it!
806 notes · View notes
mylovelies-docx · 1 year
Text
Dinner & Diatribes
A/N: Hey, wow, look at me posting another fic!
This one has also been in the works for a while (if you know when Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier came out, you might realize just how long).
Highly suggest giving the song a listen! Or anything by Hozier, really. I finally get to see this man in concert, so I'm ecstatic!
This is 5k words of pure smut. No plot. I'm not sorry about it.
Plot (or lack thereof): You and Bucky attend a dinner party for a couple you saved on the last mission. Unbeknownst to the couple (or maybe they just don't care), they're being total cock-blocks.
C/W: Smut, smut, smut (18+, Minors DNI)
Kinks: Edging, choking, hair-pulling, spanking, fingering, public sex, semi-public sex, overstimulation, cock warming, Bucky's metal hand (yes, it is a kink), reader is cock-drunk for half of the story. Probably more, let me know.
Tumblr media
“Save some people one time, and they think they’re obligated to your free time,” you mutter into Bucky’s ear. He laughs softly and tightens his arm where it lays around your shoulders. Bucky knows that there’s no real venom behind your words, just disgruntlement that you’re not spending the evening alone like you had planned.
A destination wedding. How cliche. You didn’t know the couple, but your publicist insisted that you and Bucky attend their wedding. You’re currently sitting around a cramped table in the hotel restaurant, sipping greedily at your alcoholic beverage hoping to take the edge off.
The couple nearly broke down your and Bucky’s door an hour earlier, insisting that you join their wedding party downstairs for dinner. Their pounding on the door kept you from getting pounded by your boyfriend, and now you’re frustrated beyond belief. This nice dress should have been crumpled on your hotel room floor next to where you’d left your panties earlier. You wiggle in your seat as you’re reminded of your bare ass against the leather.
Buck reaches his metal arm across his body and rests his palm on the top of your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “The head is a talking type, yeah?” he whispers to you, nodding towards the head of the table who had been droning on (and on) about how they’d met their significant other at a galaaaa and they’d had canapes and spaaarkling waaaater while looking out from the verandaaaa in Viennaaaa. 
Seriously. Could they be any more pretentious?
You roll your eyes and bring your glass up to cover your mouth as you say, “Sounds like Tony before he ate a slice of humble pie out in the desert.” Bucky nearly chokes on his drink, spluttering and coughing into the back of his hand. He quickly recovers with an apologetic little smile and wave when the wedding party gives him a look, appalled that he’d dare interrupt the speech. They all face forward again when Bucky places his glass back on the table.
Bucky leans his head down so that his lips brush the shell of your ear.
“You better watch yourself, doll.” Bucky’s hand on your thigh slides to where your legs come together, too far to be of any use to you at the moment but tantalizing as the cool metal heats from the warmth of your skin. “The more we interrupt, the longer we’ll be here in hell.”
A smirk curves your lips as you place your hand on Bucky’s cheek and guide his head so you can whisper in his ear. The roughness of his stubble against your soft palm has you thinking of where else you’d like to feel the burn of his beard.
“I’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’ll do to me tonight.”
Bucky’s normally soft blue eyes find your own, and his gaze darkens as he stares intently at you. Your own pulse rises to match the thud of his heart where your palm has slipped down to cup around his neck. 
Bucky uses the arm on your shoulder and the hand between your legs to pull you closer on the padded bench. Your dress was too short to tuck underneath you as you sat down, and you’d been so turned on earlier that the slick between your thighs had escaped and caused your thighs to stick to the leather. The abrupt movement vibrates your skin, sending pleasure straight to your core. You close your eyes at the sensation and the feel of Bucky’s warm breath across your face. He’s pulled the thigh he was holding so that your knee is hitched up over his leg, leaving you open to the cool breeze flowing from underneath the table. 
“Yeah, sweetheart?” he coos softly, “You want me to tell you what I’d rather be doing right now?”
You breathe out heavily as your thigh brushes against the bulge in his pants, opening your eyes to look into Bucky’s bright gaze. “Tell me.”
His metal fingers inch their way up your thigh, coming closer and closer to where you want him most.
“Or would you rather I show you?” he breathes against your mouth right before he places a small, hungry kiss on your lips. You hum, trying to follow him as he pulls his face away. He nestles your head against his shoulder and acts like he’s paying attention to the speech again, but his index finger ever so gently runs along your slit, gathering the wetness that only continues to grow as he caresses you.
You whimper silently, aware that the people next to and across from you could look over at any moment and see Bucky’s hand at your exposed core. You grasp at his shirt and ever so subtly shift your hips. Bucky tsks softly and moves his arm down off your shoulders and around your hips so that he can hold you in place.
Bucky’s voice is husky in your ear. “You don’t want these people to see you grinding on my hand like the needly little thing you are, do you?”
You gasp as one thick finger suddenly thrusts inside you. You press your forehead hard into Bucky’s chest, barely stopping yourself from crawling into his lap and straddling the hard length that’s straining against the fabric of his slacks.
Just then, the person that had been talking for the last eternity finally ended their speech. Bucky curls his finger once inside of you before extricating his hand from between your tense thighs. You whine at the loss as Bucky very casually licks his finger and pulls his arm away from your hips. He shoots you a shit-eating grin as he claps for the next person standing up to speak.
“You wanted to know what I’m gonna do with you later tonight, right? I’m thinking something like that.”
You laugh as it sinks in. Bucky is only teasing you, and he’d never intended for you to get off on his fingers – or even come close to it – here at the table. Or at all, if he’s thinking of edging you all night. You can scarcely speak, thinking of what all he has in mind for tonight.
The dinner drags on. Bucky refuses to do anything more than kiss along your neck, or gently graze your nipples as he reaches across you for something, or hike your leg higher over his so that he can quickly rub your clit with his thumb for no more than a few seconds. 
You’re nearly out of your mind with lust by the time the end of the party is in sight. You’ve been able to drown out everyone’s voices with the brief feel of Bucky’s lips and hands, with the dirty visions of your anticipated release later tonight. 
You’re so wound up that you barely register the parting words of the final speaker until you notice everyone turning away to reach for their glasses. You compose your features into an expression that you hope is passable despite the heat suffusing your face and chest. Your unsteady breaths are barely concealed by the fake little laugh you let out as you raise your glass with everyone else. Your eyes travel from Bucky’s slick and shiny fingers all the way up his arm and to his face. He’s looking at you with eyes that promise so many things once you’re alone.
“And a thank you to our very special friends: the Avengers. Thank you both soooo much for taking the time away from saving the world to help me celebrate my world.”
You snap your gaze away from Bucky’s heated one and chuckle a little awkwardly as you look around. Everyone is looking at you now, and you hope like hell they’re oblivious to what Bucky has been doing to you for the last hour. You’re extremely conscious of the fact that you’re basically sitting in a puddle of your own juices, so turned on that you’ve soaked through the side of Bucky’s pants where your core has been trying and failing to grind against him.
The dinner party begins to make their goodbyes and stand to leave. A spike of anxiety shoots through you at the thought of having to stand up and expose the shine and slick coating Bucky’s leg and the seat beneath you. Your hand clenches around Bucky’s knee and you turn your face up to look at him. 
He gives you a soft smile and places a kiss on your temple before reaching for something on the table and ‘accidentally’ spilling a large glass of water as he pulls his hand back. All the contents in the cup cascade over the side of the table and into both of your laps. You jump up at the cold liquid hitting your sensitive thighs and feel Bucky jump up behind you, his entire lap soaking wet.
“You okay, dollface?” Bucky asks as he wraps you in his arms and pulls you away from the rapidly spreading puddle at your feet. You nod your head and wrap your arms around his waist. You’re so lust-rattled that you’ve turned into a needy and clingy little thing, unable to think any coherent thoughts until after Bucky lets you cum.
Bucky wraps his arms low around your waist, hands perilously close to groping your ass in front of everyone. You feel his cock pressing hard into your abdomen as you cling onto his front, causing you to shimmy against him. Bucky sucks in a quick breath before making his excuses and guides you both out of the dining room. He pulls you away from him so that you can walk beside him normally, but he grabs your hand in his large one and squeezes so that you know he doesn’t want to let you go.
He hustles you to the elevator and rapidly presses the call button. You turn so that the arm holding your hand is pulled into your body, cradling his bicep between your breasts. You grab at the other and entwine your fingers, lowering your hands so that his knuckles press into your mound right above your aching clit. You whine loudly at the feeling, uncaring of the people around you.
Bucky curses and pulls his hand away from your heated flesh. Pushing his now free hand through his hair, Bucky looks quickly around the lobby. He spots what he’s looking for and drags you through a door at the end of the room. Before the door even closes, he grabs both of your hands in his metal one and pushes you against the wall with your arms pinned above your head. He uses his flesh hand to grab at your knee and pull it up to his waist. You moan at the feel of him pushing against your center.
“Hell, sugar, you can’t do that in the middle of the fucking lobby.” Bucky rubs his nose along your jawline and up into your hair, breathing in deeply against your scalp. “There’s paparazzi standing right outside those windows.”
“Don’t care,” you whine, using your position to grind satisfyingly against his cock. “Need you, Bucky. Please.”
“Jesus, doll,” Bucky groans low in his throat, “you’re gonna get us in trouble.” But he’s as addicted to you as you are to him, so he drops your wrists and pulls you up into his arms, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and settle against him fully. You throw your head back against the wall and look above you, seeing dozens of sets of stairs spin into the highest reaches of the hotel.
Your moan bounces up into the echo chamber of the stairwell when Bucky thrusts his hips against yours roughly, fighting against the fabric of his pants to feel your wet heat on his cock. He grinds himself between your legs, the rough fabric covering his hard length providing the friction you've been looking for all evening. You gasp and tighten your legs where they've pulled Bucky in as close as you could get him, wanting – needing – to feel him buried inside you.
"Are you close, baby? Close to coming all over me in this stairwell?" He stops grinding for a moment to bounce you higher up the wall, putting a millisecond's worth of intense pressure on your clit. "Huh?" Bucky prompts.
"Yes," you mewl pathetically. You have one hand pushing against his shoulder while the other clasps his neck and pulls him into you, the stimulation too much for your body to know if it wanted Bucky to make you come or not.
Of course, you want it, your brain tells you. You want it oh so bad.
"Bucky. Please. I'm – ah."
"Yeah, baby?" Bucky teases you, using one hand to turn your face so that he can look into your cloudy eyes. What he sees there must spur him further in his own desire, because he suddenly plants a hard kiss on your lips and pulls away from you.
You drop down, barely catching yourself in time for your wobbly knees to support you. You nearly cry at the loss of contact, tears starting to form in your eyes. But as quickly as Bucky had dropped you, he scoops you up and over his shoulder. You feel a firm smack against your skin where your thigh meets the swell of your backside, and you can't help but cry out as the sensation travels through your skin and vibrates deep inside your pussy.
"Quiet, doll," Bucky admonishes as he climbs the stairs three at a time, "not a sound until we're in the room. Got it?" He asks again with another smack.
With your ass on full display over Bucky's shoulder, all you can do is wrap your arms around his waist from the back and feel the rush of blood flow to your head. 
"Good girl," Bucky hums at your silence. He massages the juncture of your legs, his long fingers nearly inside your slit. You gasp quietly with every bump as Bucky powers up the stairs to your floor.
Once at the correct level, Bucky wrenches open the stairwell door, making sure to keep you balanced up on his shoulder. He walks quickly to your room, digging the keycard out of his pocket and swiping it against the reader. You can’t see the red light, but you hear the indicator deny your entry.
Bucky curses and tries again. Another error code. 
You whimper pitifully from where you dangle, close to crying if Bucky’s cock isn’t inside of you soon. “Bucky. Baby. Please. I can’t wait anymore.”
Your cries force another curse from Bucky’s lips. He can’t stand how painfully needy you sound. Can’t stand not giving you exactly what you want from him.
He grabs the handle with his metal fist, forcing it downwards and breaking the locking mechanism. Finally gaining entry, Bucky walks in and kicks the door closed with his foot. Not wasting any more time, he throws you onto the bed, where you bounce several times on the plush surface. You spread your legs wide, laying there for several seconds. You enjoy the view of Bucky’s eyes on your exposed pussy as he shucks off his suit jacket and unbuttons the shirt beneath.
As his hands get to his belt, his eyes trail up from your glistening folds and pierce directly into your lust filled gaze. “All fours. Now.”
Not wasting a second, you turn over onto your stomach, pushing yourself up onto your knees and hands. You spread your legs apart, granting access for Bucky to slide in between them. But instead of a dip in the bed behind you like you’re expecting, you feel Bucky’s large hands grab onto your hips, pulling you backwards towards the edge of the bed.
You squeal in anticipation, feeling Bucky’s long legs press into your thighs. One of his hands circles around from your hip and cups your pussy. The other slides up along your spine until it reaches the back of your neck, forcing your top down until you’re resting on your elbows instead.
“I’m going deep, dollface. Take a nice big breath for me.”
If Bucky hadn’t reminded you, you’d probably have suffered from hypoxia since you’re sure you haven’t taken a breath since turning over.
You suck in a lungful of air as Bucky’s hand on your neck slides back down to your bottom and gives a quick slap. You shudder against him and almost collapse onto your face as he takes the hand from your pussy and lifts your thigh up and over the leg he plants on the bed.
Without a second’s hesitation, Bucky plunges his cock directly into your aching hole, filling you full to the brim.
You cry out in shock, your pussy spasming around his girth. No matter how many times you’ve taken him and no matter how wet you are, your body always forgets just how massive he is.
“That’s right,” he breathes, giving you a moment to adjust. “Just like that, baby.”
You moan and arch your back, hoping to accommodate quickly to this angle. When Bucky said deep, he meant deep. You can feel his cockhead nestled right up to your cervix, barely any room to spare. You’re so full – it feels as if your lungs can’t expand around his presence inside you. 
You take in gasping breaths, so turned on that you can barely hold yourself up. Bucky’s flesh hand soothes your backside, rubbing gentle circles around the red handprint you’re sure is there.
“Breathe, darlin’,” he reminds you.
Once he sees your chest expand with oxygen, he slides out nearly all the way before plunging back in fiercely. You scream in pleasure as he continues to pump into you with abandon, feeling the way his abs flex against your buttocks, how his cock slams over and over into your slick hole, how his balls slap against your clit. You can’t help the whimper that leaves your mouth on a particularly deep thrust, tears welling up and spilling out of your eyes. 
You reach one arm forward, grabbing for a pillow to bury your face in. The sensations are so intense that you need to bite down hard on the pillow, just needing to release the pressure building and building inside of you. You inhale your own hot, humid air as you struggle to take everything Bucky is giving you.
You’re so close to coming that you can’t think straight, but the rest of Bucky is so far away. You need to feel his whole body against you, need to feel his heat along your back and taste his tongue in your mouth.
“Bucky,” you whine, reaching a grabby hand behind you and looking to grab onto any part of him that you can reach. 
Your fingers barely scrape along the V of his lower abdomen, but Bucky scoops up your hand with his flesh one, the metal one still holding your thigh over his leg.
“What is it, baby?” he huffs. “What do you need, kitten?”
“You,” you gasp, leaving a trail of spittle from your mouth down to where you’ve had your jaw locked onto the pillow.
He huffs out a small laugh. “You’ve got me, Sugar.” He takes your entwined hands and uses your combined fingers to rub against your clit. “I’m right here.”
You sob at the pressure, too wound up to truly enjoy using the juices dripping from your pussy on your bundle of nerves. You shake your head, trying to figure out how to get your point across with what little vocabulary is left inside your sex-adled brain.
“You,” huff, “on me. My back.”
Bucky releases your hand and grabs your bicep, hauling you up until your back is flush with his chest and you’re sitting on his cock. You moan and bite your lip hard, leaning your head against his shoulder because you don’t have the strength to hold it up.
“This, baby? This what you’re wantin’?” he breathes against your ear, using both hands on your thighs to hold you up so that he can keep pistoning up into your cunt.
Shaking your head again, you take in the air Bucky is breathing onto your face, getting high off his pheromones. “Want you to – ah – lay on me. Hold me down.”
Bucky growls in your ear. Securing you against his chest, Bucky climbs fully onto the bed without breaking contact, leaving you impaled on his swollen member. The heat radiating off of him has beads of sweat rolling down your back and gathering in your hair. 
He stops at the pillow you dragged down earlier. Spreading his legs wide, he splits you open on his shaft before laying you both down onto the bed. His body crushes you into the comforter, your hips at an angle where they lay on your abandoned pillow so that he’s still able to leverage into you.
Totally ensconced in Bucky’s heat, you can feel every muscle of his as he grinds into you. The pressure of his body on top of yours collapses your lungs, making it hard to breathe. But that’s exactly what you wanted.
Bucky’s long, deep thrusts from your last position turn into short, brutal pumps. Your pussy clings onto his cock so tightly that you don’t think he could pull all the way out even if he tried. His hips beat against your ass, sending jolts to your clit where it grinds against the pillow.
Bucky’s metal grip winds its way up your body and into your hair. He grabs a handful and pulls your head up and around so that he can plant a sloppy kiss against your gasping mouth.
“This is what you were wantin’, ain’t it, sugar?” You nod as much as his hand in your hair will allow. Feeling his whole body working to give you pleasure sends every nerve fiber sizzling down into your core, putting you right on the edge of release.
“Wanted to feel me on you. In you. All over you? Huh?” Bucky’s words are harsh as he pants against your lips between thrusts.
There are no coherent thoughts in your head. You are so close you can taste it, but you need something. Something. Your blissed-out mind can’t think of what it is you finally need to tip over the edge.
But Bucky does.
His metal hand tugs hard on your hair before sliding down underneath you to grab at your throat. What little oxygen you were able to pull in before is now completely cut off, Bucky’s metal fingers dig into the soft flesh and nearly cut off circulation. His human hand snaps down to your clit and rubs harsh circles.
“Come.” He commands.
No sound escapes your mouth as you come hard on Bucky’s cock, spasming around the thick shaft and pulling him deeper into you. The world turns black as you ride wave after wave of pleasure, seeming to fall endlessly into ecstasy. 
When you’ve almost passed out from lack of oxygen, Bucky’s grip loosens just enough to revive you. You breathe in and out harshly, the air leaving your lungs in sharp gusts as Bucky continues to pump into you rapidly. 
“So good for me, baby,” he coos softly in your ear. You babble incoherently as he presses a soft kiss to your temple, breathing in deeply against your hair. “My sweet girl.”
You smile drunkenly at the praise, knowing that if he kept going like this you’d come again soon.
But before you can climb much higher, Bucky raises himself onto his elbows and slides out of you. The slick pop as the head of his cock leaves your tight entrance sends you spiraling at the loss.
“No, no, no, no, no…” you whine, trying to follow with your hips in the hopes that he’ll slide back in.
He laughs at you softly and kisses a trail across your shoulder blades. “Just a second, darlin’. I want to see your face.”
Bucky’s arms slide under your pliant body and flip you over onto your back. He grabs your ankles and plants your feet onto his shoulders so that you’re bent in half. He leans down until your knees are spread wide near your head and his lips are only centimeters away from yours.
If you thought it was hard to breathe before, this position shrinks your rib cage down to nothing, barely allowing for your lungs to expand more than a couple of inches. Bucky uses his metal hand to guide his cock back into your wet heat, setting a slow and languid pace.
His flesh hand comes up to cup your face, bringing you up so that he can kiss you lazily while taking long strokes in and out of your pussy. You huff dizzily into his mouth, trying your hardest to respond to his kisses. You bring your hands up through your legs and slide your fingers into his hair, keeping him close so that you can breathe the same air while he makes love to you.
The slow, gentle lovemaking sends you into a different kind of orgasm – one that starts as a soft fluttering of your walls and slowly morphs into a vice-like grip on his cock. You keen directly into his mouth, unable to pull yourself away from his lips even as you come apart. Bucky licks into your mouth, sucking your tongue and releasing it before nipping at your bottom lip. Picking up the pace, Bucky pumps into you until he reaches his own peak, grinding against you as his balls tighten and his warm seed leaks out of you.
“Bucky…” you breathe into his mouth. Your arms circle around his head and shoulders, pulling him down so that his face is nuzzled into your neck and you can plant soft, almost kisses to his temple.
You feel him grin into your throat and swipe his tongue briefly against your pulse. You giggle softly and tug at his hair. He raises up to look with a small smile on his face, letting your legs fall from his shoulders so that you can take a normal breath. You refuse to lose that much skin-to-skin contact, so you wrap your legs around his hips to keep him from pulling out of you any time soon.
He continues to grin down at you, sweeping a lock of your wet hair from your sweaty face. You smile up at him beatifically, basking in your post-orgasm haze.
He pulls your left arm from around his shoulders with his flesh hand. His eyes trace his gliding fingers as they make their way down your arm until he reaches your hand. He places a small kiss agaisnt the diamond ring sitting on your fourth finger before looking back at you.
“That’ll be us down there before too long,” he says to you, entertwining your fingers together and leaning back down to kiss your lips.
“What?” You question sarcastically. “That’ll be us cock-blocking some heros that saved our lives?”
“No, smartass,” he responds, tugging that same lock of hair from earlier with his metal hand. “It’ll be us not being able to shut up about how much we love each other in front of some heroes that saved our lives.”
“Yeah, well,” he responds slyly, “I’d already gotten you well and truly cock-drunk before Steve and Nat forced us on that ‘mission’.”
“Don’t let anyone on the team hear you say that,” you tell Bucky as you start scratching at his scalp with the hand he’s not currently holding. He closes his eyes and leans back down to rest his head on your chest. “They’re already insufferable since they think they set us up. Don't remind them they've saved our asses a couple of times."
You gasp lightly and playfully smack his head. “Bucky!”
He laughs heartily before he wraps both of his arms around your waist and nuzzles into you further. The movement causes you to feel his shaft begin to swell inside you once again. You wiggle against him and sink down further on his cock. He groans against your sternum as you flex your walls around him. “What, sweetheart? It’s the truth.”
You grab his cheeks with both of your hands and pull his face up to look at you. You pout your lips out in mock offense. “It’s not nice to point it out, though.”
He laughs and gives you a peck on your pouty lips. He rolls you both over until you are laying on top of his chest. His hands fall to your hips again and he looks up at you with mischief in his eyes. “Well, dollface,” he begins. “What can I do to make it up to you?”
You rest your palms on his chest and push yourself up. You grind your hips experimentally and watch as his eyes flash.
“I’m sure we can work something out.”
~•~○~•~○~•~○~•~○~•Fin~•~○~•~○~•~○~•~○~•
Please pay the Troll Toll: likes, reblogs, and comments mean the world to me! I'm always looking to improve my writing (I also like validation, please and thank you)
608 notes · View notes
sleepypanda27 · 5 months
Text
Lovers
Bucky x reader
Summary: You meet Bucky at a concert your friends made you go to and fall for him.
Words: 1,049
Tumblr media
Your friends made you tag along with them to a concert. You tried to like the music, you really tried. But it just wasn't in your taste. Not that it was bad maybe if you'd been in a different kind of mood, you would like it more.
A couple of people danced, and others stood in their spots, swinging along with the music and singing along. Your feet started to hurt, so you decided to ditch your friends while they enjoyed music and headed to the bar instead. At least the concert hall was beautifully decorated for Christmas.
You ordered a glass of wine and went to find a place where you could sit. By the brick wall were placed benches. Almost everything was taken, except one.
"Is this seat taken?" You asked the man sitting on one of the benches close to the entrance back to the hall where you still could hear the music. He was buried in his phone, reading something.
He looked up at you, and you noticed a small smile on his lips. "No, please sit." He took his glass of amber liquid from the seat. You sat down, took your phone out of your purse, and browsed social media to pass the time.
"Don't like the concert, huh?" The man beside you observed.
"Not really my kind of music." You turned, facing the stranger. Undeniably, he was good-looking.
"Same here. I'm James by the way." He introduced himself with a smile. "But please call me Bucky."
"Y/n." You returned the smile, slightly blushing.
"So I guess it wasn't your choice to come here?"
"No. My friends dragged me with them. I didn't have a choice."
"Me too, I don't know why I even agreed to go, I have to work early in the morning. But now, after meeting someone in the same position, I'm not mad." He chuckled.
"Im happy my suffering brings you joy." You couldn't shake off the feeling you had seen him somewhere before. "Sorry, have we met before?"
"I don't think so, I would definitely remember if we had met." He assured.
"You seem so familiar." His eyes looked like he had experienced a lot. More than a man his age should experience.
"I get that a lot." He shrugged.
"Are you a singer?" He had a charm. An old-fashioned charm.
"Only in my shower." He chuckled. "But I'm not sure if I'm good at it."
"What's with the gloves?" You asked, noticing he was wearing black leather gloves.
"Bad circulation." He shrugged nonchalantly.
After talking a little, you both walked around and chatted about everything. You were so into the conversation you almost missed a step and tripped. Bucky caught you, holding your waist and arm. "Careful, doll. You alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." You blushed, holding onto his thick arm.
You found a place away from most of the people. Almost half of the wall was a window. It was dark outside, and it was slowly snowing. The low light outside was illuminating and making the snowflakes sparkle. You could still hear the music from the stage.
Bucky held out his hand for you. "Dance with me." The way he was looking at you felt like you were the only girl in the world. He made you swoon and you couldn't say no.
You placed your hand in his, and he pulled you closer to him, placing his other arm on the small of your back. It felt magical. The snow, the string lights wrapped around the window arch, the faint music, the man you were dancing with, it felt almost unreal.
Bucky pulled back a little to look at you as if pondering his next move. The lead singer announced the last song, bringing Bucky and you back to reality. You returned to the main concert hall.
Both of you stood in the back, looking for your friends. Since none of you could see your friends between the people, you stayed in the back by the exposed brick wall.
You shivered at the cold gust of air that flowed through the doors. The dress you were wearing didn't do much in terms of keeping you warm. Bucky noticed and took off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders, leaving his arm around your shoulders.
"Thanks." You pulled it tighter around yourself. It was warm and had a lingering scent of his cologne on it.
"Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?" He asked, without thinking, leaning close to your ear.
"What?" You weren't sure you understood right what he said over the music.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?" He almost shouted.
"I would love that." You smiled. "Give me your phone."
He unlocked his phone and gave it to you. You added your phone number to his contacts and gave it back to him.
"I'll call you." He smiled, placing the phone in the pocket of the back of his pants.
The last song ended, and people started clapping and cheering as the musicians bowed and thanked the crowd.
"There he is." A blond-haired man who seemed to be his friend approached. "Hi there." He greeted you, a little surprised.
"Hi." You responded to the stranger. You had a feeling you also had seen him somewhere before.
"We have to go." Bucky's friend said.
“Do you see your friends?” Bucky asked you.
You looked around and saw one of them who was looking at you weirdly. "Yeah, I see them."
"Good. You'll be alright? Can I leave you?"
"Yes, Bucky, I am a big girl and can take care of myself." You chuckled.
"I’m just making sure.” He smiled. After saying goodbyes, he waved as he was pushed away.
“Wait, your jacket!”
“You can give it back when we'll meet next time!” Bucky shouted as he disappeared into the crowd.
"Do you know who you were talking to?" Your friend asked, surprised.
"You mean Bucky?"
“Bucky freaking Barnes.” She looked at you with wide eyes.
“That wasn’t…wait…that can’t be.” You looked the way he went and back at your friend who had googled his photo. “Oh my god, that was him!”
“Why did he leave you his jacket?” She asked, confused.
“He asked me out.” You grinned, barely containing your excitement.
166 notes · View notes
golden-barnes · 1 year
Text
Operation milkshakes, hospital visits and custody of Mr Bear
Tumblr media
Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader Summary: Sequel to Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together. Bucky and Reader are finally on their little coffee date, but Amaya gets hurt. Then there's a shared custody to heal a broken arm. {wc: 2.7k} Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure again and a bit of insecurity from reader . Some sexual references bit of tension but its mostly fluff. Amaya gets hurt but it's brief. if you don't like a milf reader pls don't interact I don't want to get hate like last time lmao a/n: I have been writing this for years it seems and I finally am able to finish it and I'm so happy I hope you guys enjoy it. I am gonna try and finish all of my stories this month to be able to do other stuff. I am so sorry if it's shitty as hell, I tried my best to fight the writter's block Reblogs and comments are appreciated.
Tumblr media
Is Bucky embarrassed that he has been texting none stop with his student’s mom? Yes, but who will stop him from feeling like he is walking on cloud nine? For the past few weeks, Bucky has been texting you back and forth whenever you had a break. 
Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to get that cup of coffee because of work, but Bucky knew he had found his match. Funny, intelligent, and the sweetest person he has ever met. 
Fuck, I feel like a love-struck schoolboy. Bucky thinks, cursing at himself while passing the exam papers to his students. Amaya smiled at him, basically giving him a knowing smirk. Holy shit, he feels blackmailed by a 6-year-old. 
She has no idea that Bucky and her mom are on a talking stage, but that doesn’t stop her from smirking at her teacher, who her mom has told her auntie that her teacher was cute. And that was enough for her already planning your wedding where she gets to be a flower girl. 
 Bucky sat down at his desk when he felt his phone vibrate. The notification had your name on it, almost making Bucky jump out of his seat. 
Hey, one of my clients canceled for Friday. U wanna get that coffee? 
Bucky couldn’t seem to write yes faster. He felt so happy, but shit, what was he going to wear? His closet comprises of henleys and sweaters. The occasional tank tops are there, but they weren’t the norm. He dresses like a middle-aged librarian, and he is proud of it. But, on the other hand, maybe he was overthinking it.
“Dude, it’s a coffee date. Not a Michelin restaurant.” Steve rolls his eyes at Bucky’s rant. Bucky told his best friends about inner turmoil and why he was so stressed. Sam just laughed at him.
“We don’t know about that one Rogers; she is a fancy lawyer for a fancy firm. She’s probably making the big bucks.” Sam winked at Bucky, which made him feel even more stressed. 
What if they dated, and she felt embarrassed to show him to her lawyer friends? He is on a New York Public school salary, it’s a miracle he has enough money to live alone, but he was going to be rooming with Steve. 
“Sam, stop torturing him, please. I can see the smoke coming out of his ears.” Wanda explained, heating up her lunch and smirking at her extremely stressed friend. 
“He is just so fun to mess with.”Sam whined while Bucky couldn’t help but scoff. 
“I am glad my suffering is your enjoyment, but I am about to run away to New Jersey and live as a hermit because I haven’t been on a date since college, and I have no fucking clue what to wear. Help me.” Bucky rambles, almost out of breath. Sam bites back a chuckle while Steve just looks worried. Wanda sighs; being the only person with brain cells in the teacher’s lounge is difficult.
“Bucky, wear that brown blazer you wore at my engagement party. Maybe a blue henley underneath. You did say she thought you looked hot in those, so who cares, honestly. “ Wanda Maximoff, the voice of reason to these messy elementary school teachers once again. 
Bucky should stop asking these things to Sam and Steve and just ask go directly to Wanda. 
(Y/N) wasn't doing that great either. She really liked Bucky; he was a hot guy but caring and smart. He made her laugh with his dorky quotes and references. He was well-read and gave her excellent book recommendations. 
More importantly, Amaya loved him. Every day she would show up rambling about something he had done in class that made her very happy. Whether it was telling her a funny story using Mister Bear, Bucky’s teaching assistant that Amaya adored, or handing her a fruit roll-up when the other kids weren't looking. Bucky was her favorite teacher, but it mostly felt like he had taken a father role that she needed.
One thing that made her stress out was how she was perceived. She had been on dates before, and every time the men went home running with their tails between their legs after feeling threatened by her confidence and career. 
Being a single mother and a powerful lawyer really fucked over her chances of dating. Apparently, knowing your worth and what you want doesn’t make you that appealing to men, especially these insecure, fragile masculinity-having assholes. 
But Bucky seemed different; he knew she had a kid and an influential career and still wanted to date her? He was different. 
“You still overthinking this date?” Her coworker and close friend, Jen, asked her. Nat rolled her eyes, knowing (Y/N) like the back of her hand. 
“She has been making a pros and cons list on her computer for the past hour. Girl, he likes you. No grown man texts you romantic quotes at 3 am without sending a you up? Text.” Natasha rambles but (Y/N) sighs. She knows what Nat is saying is correct, but still… She didn’t want to make things awkward for ‘Maya. 
“She has it really bad, but he seems so sweet. It’s just a coffee date; get to know him in person.” Jen tried to comfort her. She patted her shoulder, sorta giving (Y/N) a side hug. 
“Now on to date outfits. I say a plaid skirt and a sweater. The skimpiest skirt you have.” Nat grins evilly. 
“It’s a coffee date, not a hookup.” (Y/N) laughs at her suggestion. 
“Whatever you say, but that man’s shoulders are so broad that it wouldn’t be surprising if your legs were on them after the night.” Nat shrugs, but (Y/N) and Jenn laugh at the sexual joke. 
“I am trying not to give Maya a sibling yet.” (Y/N) threw a piece of paper at Nat. 
“Yet is the keyword in that sentence.” Nat winked at her comment. 
Bucky was shifting his weight on the chair. They had decided to meet at this cute little café that opened about a month ago. It was right next to a bookstore that Bucky loved so much, and coincidently (Y/N) took Amaya a lot to get her story time books. 
“Sorry I am late; traffic was horrible.” Bucky swore his breath was stolen from his chest because the minute he saw her, he felt like his lungs didn’t have air. 
“I- uhm, I get it. You look beautiful, by the way.” (Y/N) smiled at his compliment while sitting right before him. 
“You don’t look bad yourself.” She winked at the teacher, who started sweating bullets once she began to compliment him. 
“Are you ready to order?” The waitress asks the couple. (Y/N) nods while Bucky just looks puzzled at the menu. She smiled at him.
“Give us a minute, please.” (Y/N) said kindly. 
“Do you have any idea what you are going to order? If you don’t mind me asking?” Bucky asks sheepishly, but the woman just smiles. 
“I am dying to try this plum strudel, especially since Maya isn’t here to steal my pieces. And I need a milkshake.” (Y/N) explained; Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.
“Amaya is a bit of a sugar fiend, isn’t she? I can’t even eat my fruits in peace without her looking at me as if I stole them from her.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) rolled her eyes because she knew her daughter.
“It’s not a shocker. It’s practically my fault. When I was pregnant with her, all I did was eat candy. I have a sweet tooth, but she’s like a sugar monster.” She explained, reminiscing all the pregnancy cravings she had. Bucky laughed at her comment. 
“You sure you don’t want coffee?” Bucky asks all of a sudden. Finding it weird that she is ordering a milkshake at a café. She shook her head.
“Oh god, no. It would be my 5th coffee this day. I’ve had back-to-back meetings, and every meeting has a coffee run. Then there’s the coffee between every 15-page contract I have to write.” Bucky chuckles because that seems like he is the same in a completely different way. 
“I get you. After grading my 10th paper, I’ve already drank 3 cups of coffee. My record is 7 in one day. I was planning on getting the milkshake too.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) laughed. 
“So we are two coffee addicts on a coffee date, but we aren’t gonna drink any coffee. Got it.” (Y/N) smirked at Bucky. He felt his ears getting red. Suck it up, Bucky; she hasn’t even said anything sexual. She is just being funny. Bucky said to himself. 
“It appears that we are. I hope you don’t mind, but I’mma order the same thing as you. I love plums. My ma makes the best plum pie I’ve ever eaten.” Bucky rambled, trying to stop himself from buckling under her gaze. Suddenly (Y/N)’s phone rings. 
“Hey MJ, what’s up? Oh what? I am on my way.” (Y/N) hangs up, her face turns somber, and her eyes are filled with tears. 
“I am so sorry, Bucky, but I have to go. Amaya fell, and the babysitter told me she won't stop crying. Her arm might be broken, and I must take her to the hospital.”  She says, gathering up her purse. She was shaking, trying to stand up, but her legs were shaking. Bucky stands up to help her. 
“Can you drive?” (Y/N) shook her head, worried because Amaya was always careful. She runs around like any normal kid but is ultra-cautious about getting hurt. Bucky extended his hand, and she grabbed it. 
She gave him the directions to her house so Bucky could drive her home. She hadn’t really said anything during the entire ride; Bucky didn’t know what to do, so he did what he did best. Ramble on.
“You know I broke my arm around the same age. But mine was in a fight.” Bucky said, which got (Y/N)’s attention. 
“Back when we were kids, Steve was the smallest kid in our classroom, and there was this kid named Tom; he kept pushing him and making fun of him. So one day, I stood up for him and decided I could fight Tom. I should mention that Tom was 2 grades above us, so anyway, he pushed me so hard that I fell. Broke my arm and wasn’t allowed to go to recess anymore. My teacher, Sally, knew that Tom was a bully and got me a lesser sentence.” Bucky told her. She smiled.
“So you were a troublemaker as a kid. Kinda like my ‘Maya.” She joked, smiling, talking about her little girl. 
“Oh, Amaya is a little angel in comparison to me. She is manipulative as hell, but she’s a sweet kid. Takes after her mom.” Bucky complimented. (Y/N) sighed at his compliment. 
“I tried my best. It’s not easy, you know. Being a single mom. Sometimes I think I don’t do enough and that I am never there, but-” 
“Listen, I have been a teacher for a while now. I have seen parents who don’t care and never show up for their kids. You aren’t one of them. I know for a fact that every Wednesday, you take her to a museum or an interactive place. You are her person, and I think you are a fantastic mom. “ Bucky interrupts. He grabs her hand, and she squeezes it. Bucky parks in front of her house. Her big ass house. He keeps forgetting that she is, in fact, a well-paid lawyer. 
Amaya did indeed have a broken arm. Bucky had to carry her to the car and into the hospital. He even sat with her when she was getting her X-ray while (Y/N) talked with the doctors. 
“I wish all dads were like you.  You really made this a lot easier for her.” The nurse said, looking directly at Bucky, who was holding a very tired Amaya. Bucky felt his ears getting warm. 
“I’m not her dad.” The nurse scoffed at Bucky’s correction. 
“Could’ve fooled me with how she’s so attached to you.” She noted. (Y/N) walked into the room with the doctor.
“Hey, ‘Maya.” The little girl in Bucky’s arms stirred at the sound of her mom’s soothing voice. (Y/N)’s eyes were puffy, probably from crying at seeing her baby in pain. Bucky wanted to hug her and Amaya, but he couldn’t really move with a child in his arms with a broken arm. 
“The doctor needs you to sit on the little table over there to check you out.” (Y/N) said, which caused Amaya to slightly shake her head and grip Bucky’s arm with her non-broken hand. (Y/N) looked at Bucky in the eyes, almost pleading with him to help. 
“Amaya, if you sit there, you’ll get to take Mister Bear for the entire month.” Bucky wasn’t new to bribing kids, it’s sometimes the last resort, but Bucky knew how much Amaya loved Mister Bear. The little girl smiled weakly and turned to look at her doctor. (Y/N) smiled at Bucky, she mouthed him a thank you. Bucky was sure his cheeks were glowing red.
“Please, Mister Bucky, sign my cast.” Amaya said, giving him a pen to sign her super bright pink cast. Finally, she calmed down after they put the cast on her, and she got to pick a color. Then, they returned to (Y/N)’s house, where MJ, the babysitter, was still in the place, worried for little Maya.
Bucky laughed, signing his name on her cast and adding a roughly made butterfly. Amaya giggled at the butterfly. Bucky didn’t even notice (Y/N) walking towards them. 
“How are we gonna do the custody for Mister Bear?” She asks, noticing that Amaya is walking towards MJ so she would sign her cast. 
“Well, I use it as a teaching tool, so I have to have it during the day.” Bucky explained. (Y/N) nodded.
“And I can’t pick up Maya this week because I am in court all day.” She added. 
“I can bring him over after work if you want. “ Bucky suggests. (Y/N) extends her hand for Bucky to shake it. 
“I can agree to that, Mr. Barnes.” She said, smiling at Bucky. 
Bucky could die right now, and he would be happy. But who would’ve known that a ruined date could be saved by a shared custody agreement of a teddy bear with a 6-year-old? 
For the past week, Bucky brought Mister Bear for Amaya to play with. After giving the girl the bear, he wouldn’t leave the house. Oh no, no. (Y/N) would give him food, and he would even eat dinner with them. They talked for hours about shows, movies, their childhoods, and just everything they could think of with a glass of wine. Amaya would go to bed, and they would stay up talking, even if they had to wake up early. 
Bucky and (Y/N) had told Amaya that he was staying over for dinner in exchange for Mister Bear because saying, “Hey, mama and your teacher like each other a lot, but you can’t tell anyone” is too much for a 6-year-old. 
What they didn’t count for was that Amaya was too smart for her own good. She knew it was strange that Bucky stayed for dinner and that her mom would wear her “special” perfume whenever Mister Bucky came over. So is this how she’s gonna get a dad? And all she had to do was break her arm. 
Bucky was talking to Steve when Amaya approached him with a book. Both men turned their attention to the little girl with the bright pink cast. 
“Mister Bucky, Mister Bear and I want to read this book tonight. Could you bring it over later?” Steve’s eyes widened, and he turned to his best friend, bewildered by the revelation made by the kid. 
Bucky nodded, trying not to speak because he felt like Steve would have a heart attack if he had verbal confirmation that he was going to (Y/N)’s house every day. 
“James Buchannan Barnes, are you sleeping with your student’s mom?”Steve whisper-s creamed once Amaya was out of hearing range. 
“I am not sleeping with her… We just eat dinner together, and I bring Mister Bear for Amaya. It’s our custody agreement.” Bucky tried to explain, but Steve looked like the vein on his forehead would pop. 
“Fuck Bucky, you are in deep shit now,” Steve whispered. Wait until Bucky tells him he is utterly in love with his student’s mom. Oh shit, what?
691 notes · View notes
angelbaby-fics · 5 months
Note
i was just wondering if you would do one with (little reader with cg!stucky) being sick with covid ? because i have it right now…fever, cough, horrible body chills, body aches, struggle to breathe….it would mean a lot 🤍
Sick Day
Tumblr media
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N: My darling, I'm so so sorry this took so long!! Hopefully you've gotten all better by now but for anybody who needs it I hope this can provide some comfort!
You woke up coughing, every muscle in your body contracting as you tried to catch your breath but to no avail. Steve and Bucky came rushing in as soon as they heard a change in your breathing pattern, their enhanced hearing tuned specifically to you. They were at your bedside and soothing you before you’d even opened your eyes. Bucky sat you up and rubbed your back while Steve fluffed the pillows up behind you.
“Easy baby, easy,” Steve whispered.
“We’ve got you doll, just breathe.” “I can’t!” You choked out.
Bucky held your arms up above your head, breathing deeply and encouraging you to follow his lead. Steve fished his phone out of his pocket and texted Bruce. Living in a big compound with all your coworkers definitely had its perks when it came to times like this. Your on-call doctor and beloved family friend was already in your room by the time your cough had quelled. Each breath you took was shallow, the hot air scraping through your lungs like sandpaper. 
Bruce held a device to your head, some sort of Stark invention that scanned your body inside and out with a nearly magical ease. Your temperature was skyrocketing in your daddies’ very hands, and it broke their hearts. When your diagnosis came up on Bruce’s screen, he tried his hardest not to change his expression, but Bucky immediately noticed his facial features make the tiniest shift. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked, hoping his desperation wouldn’t scare you and make your breathing worse again. Bruce shifted the screen over to show Steve and Bucky, who were thankful you were too small to read right now. Even though it had been obvious to them what you were stricken with, the symptoms all too telling, they had naively hoped it would be something easier, something mild, a 24 hour bug you could power through with the aid of the best medicines money could buy. But the five letter word across the screen confirmed their fears. 
You weren’t like Steve and Bucky. You weren’t genetically enhanced like them, you weren’t at the pinnacle of health like them, and you weren’t invincible like you believed they were. They felt that right now more than ever, with you shuddering in their arms, glancing between either of them with baleful eyes, suffering in the place you should feel safest. Bruce tried his best to calm their fears, and thus, yours.
“Hey don’t worry you guys. According to my chart here, we’re all up to date on vaccinations.” Then he turned to you, grabbing your warm hand in his. “Besides, you’re a tough kid. You’re gonna fight this off like a champ!”
You smiled for the first time that morning. 
Steve looked down at you, mirroring your gentle smile. Bucky, however, kept his eyebrows furrowed. He’d spent his entire childhood helping Steve whenever he got sick, but he felt so helpless now. 
“I’m gonna head back to the lab real quick and get the medicine, shouldn’t be more than two minutes.” Bruce said, getting up and leaving.
You started to suck on your thumb before Steve took it out of your mouth and replaced it with a pacifier. He smiled at you, his blue eyes crinkling, and looked over to see Bucky scowling.
“You couldn’t have stopped it, Buck. Babies get sick, that's how it goes sometimes.” 
“I know,” Bucky replied, “that doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”
A minute later, Bruce knocked on the open door as he reentered the room. He shook a bottle of pink colored liquid in his hand.
“A teaspoon of this at breakfast and another before bed oughta do it. You should start seeing a reduction in symptoms within the next 24 hours.” Your face scrunched up at the thought of yucky medicine twice a day.
“I know, right?” Bruce smiled at you. “They say it’s ‘strawberry flavored’ but I think whoever said that has never eaten human food before.” That cheered you right up. You always loved the way Bruce laughed and joked with you as if he were one of your peers instead of your daddies. 
“Thanks, Bruce.” Steve said, and Bucky finally broke his scowl to give the doctor a tight smile. Bruce didn’t mind, he knew how protective your Baba could get, and that it wasn’t a reflection of the quality of his medical services. 
“Always, Cap.” Bruce replied to the both of them, and he began to head towards the door again. “You know the drill, call me if you need anything.” Then he turned to you. “Get well soon, superstar!”
Now that it was just the three of you again, the excitement of a friend’s visit wore off, and you suddenly became aware of the deep ache in your bones. You slumped back against Bucky’s torso, and he snaked a protective arm around you. 
“Don’t wanna be sick,” you mumbled, your energy draining by the second.
“I know, babydoll.” Steve replied. “The sooner you take your medicine, the sooner you’ll start to feel better.” “Don’t wanna take medicine either!” You said slightly louder, anxiety twisting your voice into a whine.
“Shh… I know, baby.” 
“No you don’t! Daddies never get sick!” You cried out with a pout.
“That wasn’t always the case.” Bucky said, a mischievous grin breaking through his gruff mood. “Your daddy used to get sick all the time! And guess who used to take care of him.”
Bucky pointed a thumb towards himself.
“Really? Baba was takin’ care of Daddy?”
“It’s true!” Steve said. “Before we met Bruce, Buck was the best nurse I ever had!”
“And just like you, he’d have to take yucky medicine, even when he didn’t want to. Sometimes it took a lot of convincing.”
“How?” You asked, the discomfort in your body taking a backseat to your delight at being regaled with stories from your Daddies’ past.
“Well…” Bucky glanced over at Steve, waiting for an affirmative nod before he went on, “I would keep peppermints in my bookbag, so Stevie could always have one to get the taste of the medicine out of his mouth.” Just as expected, your eyes went wide.
“So if I takes my medicine I gets a candy?” You asked excitedly, making both the men smile and laugh. 
“How about this,” Steve offered up, “Every time you take your medicine, you can have a piece of candy, as long as you’re honest and tell Daddies if it makes your tummy upset, okay? And when you’re all better and have no fever, we’ll take you for a special day out with just the two of us as a prize for being so brave!”
223 notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 2 years
Text
Finding Home
Pairing: Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve finds a home with you. Word Count: Over 1.7k Warnings: Fluff, brief angst, mention of trauma, mention of explicit sexual content, canon divergent, falling in love, slight feels (it's me), Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: It has been difficult finding time to write, but I felt compelled to share something sweet for our lumberjack. ❤️ Beta read by the beautiful @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard and banner by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It was a quiet morning when Steve realized he fell in love with you. 
The sun rays warmed his skin as they filtered in through the window, beckoning him to open his eyes. By now he would normally be out for a run before he got to work, but he couldn't bring himself to get out of bed today. Not when the weight of your head settled gently on his chest. Not after you soothed him through another nightmare. He didn't have them often, but he kept you up because of them.
You deserved to rest. 
And he didn't want you to leave his arms.
"Steve," you whined, burrowing your face further into his chest when he brushed the pads of his fingers up and down your back. "Still tired."
A soft smile formed on his face as he repeated the motion. "Sorry, sweetheart," he whispered. 
You tilted your head up as you opened your eyes and brought a hand to his cheek. The sleepy expression on your face was one he witnessed before, but he swore he saw into his future as you smiled. What he saw was beautiful and hopeful.
It was everything he thought he wouldn't have before. 
"You okay?" you asked.
Those were the first words you ever said to him. 
No one asked if he needed the opportunity to adjust to being in modern time after being pulled from the ice. Or if he needed the chance to process the grief of losing those closest to him. He went back into the fight without taking the time to do so. Suffering in silence was the new normal for the man out of time.
Especially when he saw the memories of his life on display at the Smithsonian. 
He asked himself time after time why he went back there. Each visit reopened a wound inside that he never let heal. Each photo, recording, and piece of memorabilia cut deep. Tears shed in his mind as everyone saw pieces of his life he never gave permission to show.
Seeing the hologram of himself holding the shield, he wasn't sure who that man was anymore.
He thought he'd feel normal again after the reversal of the snap. Bucky and Sam were back. Natasha was alive. Things were the way they were supposed to be, but the shield felt heavy in his hand. Maybe it wasn't meant for him anymore.
"I need to find myself again."
Bucky understood. He was the one who encouraged him to clear his head for however long he needed. Sam did, too. He also told him that he couldn't imagine a world without Captain America. He looked surprised when the shield was put in his hand. If anyone was worthy of it, it was Sam. Nomad suited him best.
Because he had no home to call his own anymore. 
Steve booked himself a cabin outside of the city. He couldn't explain why he felt the urge to take a break from his drive, but the property he stopped at was breathtaking. The lush trees and soft breeze soothed him. He had to take a moment to appreciate the beauty. 
Guilt ate at him the longer he stood there because people needed him. Bucky and Sam said they'd call, but it didn't ease the weight on his shoulders. They were trying to adjust and he-
"You okay?"
Steve looked beside him at the sound of your voice. You stood on your cabin porch with concern etched on your face. He didn't realize he was standing so close to your porch. If you recognized him as Captain America, you didn't let it show.
The beauty of the scenery was nothing compared to the sight of you. 
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Am I trespassing?"
"Not unless you try to break into my place."
You both smiled. He wouldn't dare, but he did worry at the thought of you being out there alone. Unless you had someone nearby. 
The thought made him a bit jealous and he just met you.
"I really am asking though," you said, taking a step toward him. "Are you okay?" 
You were a stranger, but it felt wrong to lie at the sincerity in your eyes.
"No," he said before he could stop himself. "I don't think I am."
"Is there anything I can do?"
When was the last time someone offered him kindness with no strings attached?
He practically heard Bucky in his ear encouraging him to take a chance. 
"Could use a cup of coffee if you have any."
To his surprise, you agreed.
"Just to warn you," you looked over your shoulder as you turned toward the door. "I have an axe if you try anything funny."
You made him laugh when you winked, the first genuine laugh he could remember in years. 
You told him over coffee that you were a writer. As much as you loved the city, being away from the noise helped inspire your stories. You were easy to talk and listen to, a comforting presence in a world filled with fear and uncertainty. Even after he finished his drink, he found himself wanting to carry on a conversation. You didn't seem to be in a hurry for him to leave either. 
Bucky was proud that he asked you to meet him again. 
Natasha assured him that you had a clean background, even though he didn't ask for her to check. 
"Can't be too careful, Rogers, but she's good."
Dealing in a world of spies, it was nice to speak to someone who was honest. 
It became a routine to stop by and see you for coffee. He always did so with your permission. He noticed that you kept a couple of his favorite treats stocked up that he mentioned in passing. You paid attention, but didn't make a show of it. 
Steve never once felt invisible with you. 
He found the axe you referenced and chopped some firewood as a small thank you for your kindness. It was the least he could do and you were thankful that you didn't have to do it yourself.
"You know, Steve, with your beard and the flannel, you'd make a good looking lumberjack."
He took your words to heart. 
It was a risky job at times, but he was used to danger. The tasks put him at ease and it gave him a chance to use some of his strength. It brought him back to the memory of Clint's farm, but without the inner turmoil. 
When he told you he liked to draw, too, you smiled and encouraged him to keep doing it. You stressed that he needed a healthy outlet. The longer he was around you, the more he wanted to take his stress out on your amazing body. 
Oh, the chemistry was there from the beginning. He sensed it when he was close. The racing of your heart, your pupils dilating, and even the subtle change in your scent. He picked up on thanks to the serum.
But you were a friend first when he needed it most.
When he told you he was going on a mission, as Nomad, you didn't try to talk him out of it. You understood the need for him to keep fighting. You only asked if he could let you know he was okay. 
Everyone noticed a visible difference in him because he had someone to come home to.
"Bring me back something good?" you smiled when he returned to you. 
He almost missed when he attempted your first kiss. At the end of the day, he was still the scrawny kid from Brooklyn. And you were the one who stole his heart. He just didn't know it at the time.
People called him a hero, but you saved him. 
I think I loved you the moment I met you. 
"Steve? You okay?" you asked again, bringing him back to the present.
"I'm okay," he promised.
"I lost you for a second," you said, blinking more of the sleep from your eyes. "You didn't have another nightmare and not wake me, did you?"
He hated being the cause of you not getting enough rest, but you never complained. Whether it was talking or letting him use you, you'd rather stay awake and soothe him than let him face his demons alone. While many followed his lead, very few chose to walk beside him. 
"You didn't lose me," he answered. You never would. "And no more nightmares."
Thanks to you. 
He placed his hand over yours and imagined what it would feel like to have a ring on your finger. 
In time, he'd get you the perfect ring. 
You smiled before you glanced at the clock on the end table with wide eyes. "You're missing your run," you said. 
When you attempted to sit up, he wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you in place. He smirked as he recalled the first time he used his strength on you. The way you chanted his name like a prayer and worshiped him like a god, it was the closest he'd get to heaven on earth. 
"We're staying here," he said, his lips brushing against yours as he caged you in. "That's an order."
"Are you ever not bossy?" you asked as he settled between your thighs. 
"You like it when I'm a little bossy," he reminded you. It always got a reaction out of you. "So stay here."
"You know what will happen if we stay here," you smirked as you rolled your hips up, causing him to groan. Your smirk fell away as your gaze softened. "But we can spend all day in bed as long as you're okay."
Steve traced his finger along your cheek, like he was drawing you on the sketchpad you bought for him. You constantly did thoughtful things for him. Seeing you like this, with the same sincerity in your eyes as the day you met, he couldn't waste another second. 
"I love you," he whispered. 
His finger stopped at your lips when you sharply inhaled, tracing them, before he pulled it away to kiss you. If you didn't say it back, it was okay. He would wait as long as he had to. 
"I love you, too."
You breathed the words into his mouth and everything felt right. He didn't do his run or get any work done that day. You didn't get a single word written. It didn't matter because Steve was a man in love. 
And Nomad found a home.
*****
Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ KoFi
2K notes · View notes
mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 27 days
Note
started my period last night and today even talking is exhausting so i was thinking about what bucky would be like with reader on their period who’s suffering from fatigue/exhaustion :)
Hi @brnesblogposts! I'm still half under the assumption that you might have sent this to me by accident, because I haven't had anyone talking to me in months! LOL. Anyway, I hope your period is over soon! And I hope you enjoy this little bit of what my brain came up with!
Tumblr media
How many trips could you possibly make to the bathroom in one evening? you thought as you hobbled back to the couch. The cramping pain in your lower abdomen was unrelenting and you were exhausted.
Since the age of fifteen, you had suffered from debilitating period pains just before and as your period started. It usually meant missing a day of school and now work. You’d beseeched your doctor for a cure, but nothing seemed to abate the anger your uterus seemed to have. The pill. It had helped a little.
Flopping down on the sofa, you pulled your knees up towards you and groaned into the nearest cushion.
“Doll?” Bucky’s concerned voice floated across the living room.
You had just moved in with your boyfriend. He had never seen you like this before because you had always hidden away on days like these. Now you regretted keeping this from him as you were in no mood to explain the issue to him.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he rushed over and sat down beside you on the couch. Bucky’s eyes were wide with fear. “Are you sick? Do we need to go to the hospital?” he asked, a little frantically.
You couldn’t help but snort into the cushion. He was a real worrier sometimes.
“I’m fine, it’s fine, I’ll be just fine,” your muffled voice tried to convince him of the fact, even though you didn’t feel it.
“You don’t look fine.”
“Trust me, period pain is not a reason to visit the emergency room.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
You looked up dismally, into Bucky’s weary face.
“No.” You didn’t want to add any more tension into his already stressful day.
“Have you taken any ibuprofen?”
You shook your head.
“Can I get you some?”
“Please,” you nodded.
As Bucky wandered into the kitchen, a sharp stab told you that you needed to take another trip to the toilet.
This was just too exhausting but you didn’t want Bucky to see you cry but when you went back to the living room, you couldn’t stop tears rolling down your face.
Not because of the pain, but because you had the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. Bucky had piled the coffee table with several forms of pain killers, a steaming mug of tea, a variety of cakes and a hot water bottle.
“Oh Buck,” you whispered.
He smiled and beckoned you back to the sofa. As you settle yourself into a comfortable position, Bucky covered you with a blanket and handed you some pills, along with your favorite fruity tea. Gently he placed the hot water bottle onto your tender abdomen and pulled your bare feet into his lap. You moaned quietly as Bucky massaged your feet with his deft fingers.
All of his comforting measures were starting to take effect and you found yourself nodding off. You jerked awake, almost kicking Bucky in the face in the process.
“Woah, it’s alright, you’re fine. Just go to sleep.” He stroked your legs gently.
“I can’t.”
“Of course you can.”
“Not unless you want there to be a huge patch of blood on the sofa when I wake up.”
Bucky scrunched up his nose.
“Exactly!”
“Sorry I didn’t mean to -”
“No, you were right with the ick face.”
“Doll, you were in a lot of pain earlier.”
“Yeah, it sucks.”
“Shouldn’t you see a doctor?”
“I did, I’ve tried everything. I just have to suffer it seems.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
You shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Just gotta ride it out once a month!”
“I could -” Bucky tried to search for the right words.
“Be here with me?”
“Yeah, that.”
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
85 notes · View notes
scoonsalicious · 24 days
Text
Tumblr media
Unwanted: Chapter 13, Uncomfortable - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Sadness, realizations.
Word Count: 633
Previously On...: A phone call in the middle of the night sends Bucky to Jade's side at the med bay to help her through a "panic attack," which you're sure she's faking. You warn Bucky that if he keeps going to her, you might not be willing to take him back.
A/N: I didn't realize some of these parts were so short. They were difficult to write, so they took a lot of time, and therefore seemed longer. I feel like I'm drawing out the inevitable, and I probably am. I'm sorry!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1
When you woke up a few hours later, Bucky wasn’t back. You checked your phone. It was well past the time you’d planned on leaving to go Upstate, not that you were surprised. He’d text you, apologizing, telling you that Jade was too emotionally distraught to be left alone for the time being, but he promised to be back soon, and you’d still make your trip. You knew the promise was hollow. You didn’t believe he was sleeping with her, not really, but the situation was becoming untenable. You’d always said you would never try to control who he could or couldn’t be friends with, but you began to wonder if it was time for an ultimatum. The idea of imposing one sat poorly with you; it wasn’t the kind of girlfriend you wanted to be, but you felt he was leaving you no choice anymore. Every boundary you had asked him to keep with her, she’d somehow find a way to push him past. 
He wasn’t blameless in the situation, you knew that. You knew he loved you, wanted to be with you, but how many chances could you give him to put you first, only to have him fail you? He wasn’t doing it on purpose; he was a genuinely good person who saw someone who had suffered as he had, and who wanted to provide support in a way that had been denied to him, but he was doing it at the expense of your relationship, your heart, your fucking sanity. He was taking you for granted, assuming that you’d always forgive him. And why wouldn’t he? You’d done it each and every time before.
You got up and got dressed, trying to find a use for your time so that you weren’t incessantly staring at the clock, waiting for Bucky to finally decide to make time for you. You suddenly remembered the request that Sam had made of you the night before– that you check the Tower’s systems to see if Jade had attempted to access anything that might set up red flags. 
Grabbing your laptop, you made your way to the kitchen to grab a bagel and glass of juice before curling up on a chaise lounge in the common room and began working. It was going to be a time consuming task; the Tower’s systems were massive, but you’d built a good portion of them yourself, so it was a lot like wandering the forest in your own backyard. 
Hours later, you were rubbing your eyes, regretting that you had left your glasses in your room. The sun was low in the sky, hovering just above the city skyline. Standing up to stretch, you cracked your neck and lower back before shooting off a text to Sam.
>>Just ran a check of the Tower systems for Jade’s footprint.
Ole Sammy: And???? Don’t leave me hangin in suspense, Baby Girl!
>> And, nothing screaming ENEMY AGENT. 
>> She accessed Bucky’s unlocked files.
>> Like, a lot.
Ole Sammy: Creepy, but not surprising.
>> No, considering she’s fucking obsessed with him.
Ole Sammy: Unless…
>> Unless what, Samuel?
Ole Sammy: Nothing. Just a thought. Probably nothing. Don’t worry about it.
>> Stop being cryptic. Tell me.
Ole Sammy: Not unless I have proof to back it up. I don’t want to make accusations without evidence. Bitch’s scary AF. Besides, she could kick my ass.
>> Pretty sure I could kick your ass.
Ole Sammy: Only if I didn’t have my wings!
>> Not the flex you think it is.
Ole Sammy: How’s Upstate?
>> Wouldn’t know. Jade had a ‘panic attack’ in the night and has needed Bucky by her side ever since.
Ole Sammy: That dumb ass mother fucker! How much longer you gonna put up with this shit, Baby Girl?
>> I’ll talk to you later, Sam.
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
143 notes · View notes
Text
Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis
Tumblr media
Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader
Fic Masterlist
Read on A03
Spotify Playlist
»»———————►
Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️
Word Count: 4K
Rating: Explicit
Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.
A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.
Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....
* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this
Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes
Tumblr media
You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.
At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.
You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood. 
Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.
A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.
“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.
He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”
You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.
He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.
You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.
You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.
You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.
It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.
You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye.  The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..
You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.
Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees.  The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane. 
It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.
You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.
You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.
It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you  realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.
There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.
Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.
Tumblr media
Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later. 
You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.
Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.
Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead. 
She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?” 
Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”
She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how  incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them. 
“I think that they killed him.”
Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks. 
“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.” 
You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…
You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide. 
But she simply asks. “Who are you?”
You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now. 
If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.
You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.
“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”
She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”
You blink. “What?”
Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”
“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”
“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”
“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her.  “How could you?” 
“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”
“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’
You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips. 
A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.  
The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.
A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life. 
“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”
You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself. 
“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”
“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes. 
He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.
Tumblr media
At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.
The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.
You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it. 
And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.
Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to? 
How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…
But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends. 
And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence. 
How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?
Why did you still want him? 
Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.
Yea. You think you’d rather die.
You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-
Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.
Sometimes rope can give over time.
That’s why we always used zip ties.
You look down at your bound hands.
They’re bound with rope.
63 notes · View notes
Text
Daylight
Curtis Biddick X nurse! Reader
Summary: A fight between Curt and
Y/n happens before Curt's last mission. But they both don't know that...
Warning: Angst/ sad/ crying/ mention of death/ medical inaccuracies/ mention of blood/
Word count: 1.6k
A/n: I'm sorry in advance
Tumblr media
Their relationship was quite new, but what they felt was true. She was a nurse, desperate for a distraction, she needed to forget the atrocities she saw every day. He was a pilot, wanting to forget the friends he lost and the horror that kept him up at night. Together, Y/n and Curt forgot about their horrible job and became happy together. At first, they were just fooling around, not wanting more than what they already had, but time went by and they both developed feelings for the other.
‘’You stole my little spoon!’’ Major Egan said, laughing. ‘’You can have Meatball if you’d like’’ the woman replied, laughing. She was the owner of the dog that quickly became the mascot of the base. The men around them laughed at the comment of the lady. She sat on Curt’s lap; it was a night before a long mission, so they wanted to spend a lot of time together. ‘’We’ll have plenty of time to spoon together in Africa, Bucky’’ Curt said. The boys were going to land in Africa and then, get shipped here again. They would be away for a long time. Y/n smiled and took a sip of her drink. A nurse came running inside the room, looking for her colleague. ‘’Y/n, we need your help, it’s Lucas’’ she panted, out of breath from her running. Her legs reacted quicker than her body, getting up, without even saying a thing and she started to sprint towards the medical building. Lucas was a wounded man that was transferred from another base, he’d suffered from a head trauma and had seizures. The problem was the fact that he had multiple wounds on his body that would open and bleed with each seizure he had. ‘’We gave him medicine, but the seizures won’t stop’’ the other nurse said, while running. ‘’He’s bleeding to death?’’ Y/n panted. ‘’Exactly’’ When they arrived, Y/n saw 6 nurses trying to stop the bleeding and hold him, so he’d stop moving. ‘’How long has he been seizing?’’ she asked. ‘’2 minutes’’ one of them said.
When his nurse sprinted out of the room, Curt knew it was serious, she’d rarely run like that, without asking question if her presence was necessary. When the name Lucas was pronounced, Curt barely blinked and saw that she was running to help. ‘’Who’s this Lucas?’’ Buck asked, looking outside. Before Curt could answer, the Colonel stepped in. ‘’He’s a Major from another base, he was transferred here because his old base didn’t have the necessary equipment to treat him. His injuries are pretty serious, I’m surprised he’s still alive’’ he took a sip of his beer as he finished his sentence. ‘’What are his injuries?’’ Crank asked. ‘’Head trauma that cause seizures. His body is almost opened completely, so every time he moves, he risk bleeding to death’’ A men that was recently discharged responded. Curt only nodded, praying that his girl was okay.
She pushed the door open, gaining the attention of every man in the bar. Her uniform was full of blood, most of the men had never seen this much blood. When he saw her, Curt ran to her. ‘’Are you okay? Whose blood is this?’’ he exclaimed, looking at her body to check for any injuries. Her gaze was empty, there was no emotions showing on her face, she was jaded. ‘’Lucas’’ she mumbled. She looked at the Colonel, who was watching the scene with horror. ‘’Colonel, Lucas’s dead. He was bleeding too much, his seizure was too long’’ she said, no emotions in her voice. ‘’I’m sure you did everything you could, Curt can you go help her change’’ he said, with hesitation in his voice, he didn’t want to upset her. Curt nodded and led her outside. ‘’Let’s get you cleaned up, Sunshine’’ Curt softly said, borrowing Major Egan’s Jeep. He drove to the nurse’s quarters, right now, he didn’t care that men weren’t allowed in, he had to take care of his girl.
She was in a new dress; Curt was sitting in front of her. ‘’Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?’’ He gently said. She shook her head. She was scared, terrified that one day, she’d have to treat his injuries and he would die in her arms. She needed to protect her heart. ‘’I think we should stop seeing each other’’ she breathed out. He looked at her, she had tears in her eyes. ‘’What, why would you say that?’’ he quickly replied, a sense of panic in his voice. ‘’Because we can’t allow ourselves to get attached. Not when you could die tomorrow’’ she tried to speak clearly, but the lump in her throat was making it difficult. ‘’I’m going to come back! I always come back! Y/n I know you’re scared, but don’t shut me out!’’ he tried to control the volume of his voice to not scare her, but he loved her, he wanted to be there for her. ‘’You don’t understand what’s it like to be in my position! Do you know how many dead people I see every day! How many men ask me to tell their wives that they love them? You don’t know what’s it like! Curt I can’t enter this building one day and see you lying down in a pool of blood. I can’t and I won’t do it!’’ she sobbed. ‘’I won’t be dead Y/n! I know you’re scared for me! Don’t do this’’ his eyes filled with tears. ‘’Please, Curtis, if you care about me, if you love me. Let me go, I can’t do this again! I love you, but I hate you at the same time! I don’t want to have your blood on my hands! I hate your job, but I love you! It’s tearing me apart! But I got to protect myself! I’m begging you, please, let us go’’ she sobbed and yelled at the same time. Curt was crying too, he truly loved her. A nurse knocked at Y/n’s door. ‘’Major, you have to go’’ she softly said. It was time for him to leave, it was time for his mission. He looked at Y/n. ‘’When I come back, because I will, we’re going to continue this conversation. Because I’m not letting you go, I love you, Y/n, you’re stuck with me’’ he said, quickly kissing her before leaving her room. Y/n sobbed for hours, she wanted to let herself love him, she wanted to be able to love him without this constant fear of loosing him.
He thought he was going to be able to land this plane in the field, it looked so easy so higher, but when the plane came in contact with higher trees, Curt knew he wasn’t going to make it. ‘’Tell Y/n I love her’’ was his last words before the plane crashed on the ground. His death wasn’t painful, it was quick. The most painful part was to think about Y/n’s reaction. During his last seconds, he thought about her. Her smile, her scent, her voice and everything he loved about her. He felt guilty, he ended up hurting her after all. But all that thinking stopped when his life ended.
Today was a quiet day, not many men were injured, but enough to keep Y/n occupied. So, when she finished healing the men, she went outside to breath fresh air. The sun was warming her up, the daylight was soothing. It rained the hole week, so rays of sunshine were really good. She saw Buck and Bucky walking towards her, they looked sad. ‘’Can we talk to you for a second?’’ The blonde asked. Y/n nodded, confused. They took her to the empty cafeteria. They didn’t know how to break the news. Buck sat down, while Bucky stayed up, he went closer to the woman, in case she would react badly. ‘’Y/n, we – ‘’ she cut them off, tears already rolling down her cheeks. ‘’He’s dead, isn’t he’’ she breathed out. The two men could only nod. ‘’He told us to tell you that he loved you’’ Buck whispered. ‘’It’s not fair, he was supposed to come back’’ she cried. ‘’We’re sorry, Y/n’’ Bucky said. She began sobbing even harder. ‘’It’s not fair! He was supposed to come back!’’ she sobbed angrily. She kept repeating the sentence until Bucky hugged her, he was strong, so his embrace was calming her a little. ‘’ I loved him so much’’ she lamented. There was so much pain in her voice, the two men had to control themselves. ‘’We’re so sorry, Y/n, he loved you so much too. You were all he was ever talking about’’ Buck said, looking at the ground. ‘’I’m such an idiot! I told him I wanted to leave him before the mission! But I didn’t mean it! I was terrified of him not coming back. And now he’s gone’’ she wailed. Bucky kept hugging her until she cried every tear in her body. She eventually fell asleep from all the sobbing. The two men brought her back to her room, where they put her in her bed. Buck told other nurses to look after her.
That day, a part of her soul broke. Curt was her one true love, but she knew he died loving her. Her heart was broken into a million pieces. She would never love a man more than she loved him. He was her soulmate, and she was his. She’d look for him in daylight. He loved looking at it. So, each time a ray of sun came on her skin, she thought about him. They would eventually find each other again in the daylight.
57 notes · View notes
moonydustx · 10 months
Text
Love me
masterlist | requests here
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: a sudden breakup leaves you questioning what could have happened to Bucky, until you discover he just wanted to keep you safe.
Warnings: a little angst, drama, smut ( p in v, f receiving oral, dirty talk) A lot of tears, but with a happy ending. If I left something out, just let me know.
WC: ~ 3k
A/N: Just an excuse to write about make-up sex with Bucky. No beta, sorry for possible errors as English is not my first language. Also, I'm not used to writing smut, but I hope you like it.
Requests here!
Tumblr media
"You need to leave." Bucky asked, without even looking you in the eye.
"What does that mean Buck, did something happen?" you tried to touch him, but Bucky dodged your hands. "What is happening?"
"This mission made me think of many things..." he sat in the kitchen chair, Alpine didn't take long to pass between his legs, waiting for a caress. "I wasn't made for this life, for this." he pointed to the small space between you two.
"Wait, what do you mean?" your voice was already trembling when trying to at least understand what was happening. "Are you breaking up with me? Buck, two days ago everything was perfect, what happened? Please, I need you to explain."
"I already told you, I just..." for a second he looked at your face. The thick tears that ran down your cheeks made him feel his own throat close. He would have a few more reasons to hate himself after that. "I can not do this anymore."
"Is this your best explanation?" you charged and he just shrugged.
The noise of your engagement ring hitting the kitchen table bothered him, but not as much as seeing you walk out the living room door without even looking back. For the first time in a while, it was his turn to allow tears to flood his face.
One month, thirteen days and a few hours.
Maybe it wasn't the healthiest thing in the world to count the dates of the last time you saw your ex, the fateful day he kicked your ass.
You wish you were one of those people that you get over easily, or at least pretend to be by posting happy pictures on social media, but that wouldn't be you.
Your type was more to isolate yourself and drown in your own sorrows, which was also not possible due to work. You had to put on your best social mask and move on, even if you still didn't believe a word Bucky had said.
"Chef, there's a visitor for you." Tyler, one of your employees, caught your eye.
Before he even speaks, you can feel him watching you. Everyone there knew something was wrong.
"How urgent?" you ask with zero atention.
"It's an avenger, so I assume this is the most urgent we've ever had at this restaurant."
The knife in your hand fell onto the board, a chill running through your body. If it was Bucky, Tyler would have told you, after all, your ex-boyfriend had already spent a lot of nights accompanying you to the restaurant. Could be news about him, maybe not good stuff.
"Annya, can you take over for me?" you asked, hearing a "Yes, chef!" by far.
Your mind ran through different scenarios, the vast majority without a happy ending, while you took off your tame and cap.
The weight on your shoulders disappeared when you saw Sam smiling, waiting for you at one of the tables. As soon as he got to his feet, you hugged him.
"I thought I wouldn't have the privilege of seeing the head chef."
"Consider yourself privileged then, because tonight promises." you settled into the chair across from him. Despite the smiles and the mild climate, something told you that there was something more. "So, you came to try the new meat."
"No, not today, but I'm still trying. I'm here to talk about Bucky."
"Did something happen?" your heart immediately sped up, all those fears coming back like a flood.
"It's all right with him." Sam reassured you, noticing your posture change at the time. "I have some information and to be honest I can't stand to see him suffer over it any longer."
"Suffer for what?"
"You, what else would it be?"
"Sam, he chose to leave me. It still hurts, but there's nothing you can do about it." you explained, seeing him nod. "But if there's anything I can help you."
"I'd rather tell you and then you choose what to do. On the last mission, some personal information was leaked. About the team, about Sarah, the boys, you."
"Exactly what about me?"
"About you and Bucky, they used that to try and coerce him, that's what made him choose to walk away from you." he handed you a cell phone.
On the screen, a photo of you and Bucky leaving the restaurant at night, another of the two of you running together, another of you in a coffee shop.
"Who got this? I-I... Are we in danger?" you looked around for suspects, for cameras trained on the two of you, but found only people engrossed in their own conversations. "Who made this?"
"It does not matter now."
"How does it not matter?"
"Bucky sorted it out and whoever it is, they won't be bothering you anymore." Shit. Sam doesn't need to say more for you to understand what resolve means. "I'm only telling you this because I know you still like him."
"It takes two to make a relationship, at the very least." you responded right away.
"Just think, wouldn't someone who did all this thinking about protecting you love you?" Sam asked and laughed when he saw your confused face. "Oh man, you two deserve each other."
"Should I talk to him?"
"Well, he's in town, no plans for the next mission. Maybe you should." Sam shrugged and got to his feet. "Now that I've taken this weight off of me, I'll let you work, but I'll be back and you better cook the best steak I've ever had."
"Order noted." you said goodbye to him with a quick hug. "Thanks Sam."
"Don't thank me, I'm just doing my part as the future best man." he winked, eliciting a laugh from you and then left.
The evening at the restaurant, despite being full, seemed to take forever to pass. Amidst the food, your head wandered over the images you'd seen, what Sam had said.
It was past midnight when you got home. You took a hot shower, somehow trying to calm your mind, but that wasn't enough. Before putting on your pajamas, you thought a little more. You couldn't miss that opportunity, even if it was to close that chapter of your life. You got dressed and headed towards Bucky's apartment.
Your legs made you walk from side to side, restless in front of the door, your mind bubbled with possible excuses for a visit during the night. You knocked a few times and got no response, but you couldn't just walk away.
The keys you still had danced between your trembling fingers before they even reached the lock. Upon opening the door, you can see Alpine look up curiously, immediately jumping off the couch and going to tangle at your feet.
"Hello for you too!" you bent down, feeling the soft white hairs by your hand.
The door behind you closed by itself, giving you only the trouble to lock it again. The small apartment seemed untouched since the last time you were there, you took off your three shoes, leaving them next to Bucky's boots, an old habit.
The same brown cushions as the Alpine ration in the same corner. Your photo still next to the TV. If you closed your eyes, you could remember the day that picture was taken, your nervous laughter being on a Ferris wheel and Bucky's arms around your waist.
You've heard Bucky before you've even seen him in full. The murmurs came from the side of the sofa, and as you feared to find him, he was lying on the floor, only a pillow and a sheet protecting his body from the cold floor. He was muttering something incomprehensible, even from a distance you could see the sweat gather on his face.
Trying to get closer without scaring him, you knelt beside where he was lying, Alpine climbed on the arm of the sofa, carefully following your every move.
"Buck?" you called him in a whisper, not having much effect. This time, you chose to touch his shoulder, shaking it slightly, the nickname involuntarily falling from your lips. "Babe?"
As if out of breath, Bucky sat up, catching all the apparently lost breath. It took a few seconds for his blue irises to meet yours, trying to assimilate what was happening.
"Am I still dreaming?" he muttered to himself, it was only when he felt your hand take his that he seemed to realize reality. "You are here?"
"Yes." you replied, settling into a sitting position.
For a few seconds, you chose to just watch him. The disheveled hair and beard had been undone for some time, a little longer than usual. Next to his military dog ​​tag, hung the ring you wore. Regret took over your body for leaving behind.
"Are you well?" his husky voice interrupted you from daydreaming about the two of you's recent past. Trying to push those thoughts away, you just shook your head and tried to do your best on your own, but you already knew him to know that wouldn't convince him.
"I should be asking that. Was I having a nightmare?"
"Yes... I couldn't sleep and in the little time I could, some demons decided to take the time to disturb me." just as you had, he smiled and just like him, you knew that all was not well. "What are you doing here?"
"Needed to see you." your hand that clung to him let go, busy pinching your own hand nervously. "I've been talking to Sam."
"I don't know what he told you, but I can guarantee..."
"Please let me speak." you cut him off, afraid he would ask you to go again. "I know about the threats, I know about everything and I wonder what your head must be like. But what I want you to understand is that I'm okay with it."
"You do not understand."
"You can help me with this. It may sound silly, but, I don't know, I can learn to defend myself, I can spend more time around you. I just don't accept that our story ends like this, for fear of something that still it didn't even happen. I want to try, I want to stay!" you had to pull yourself together after dumping everything on him.
It could just be your impression, or maybe just the street light streaming in through the window, but you could have sworn his eyes were teary.
His hands pulled yours to lock around the back of his neck. In a rush of courage, you crossed your legs over his, settling in his lap. His hands slid down your back, locking onto your waist.
"Say you don't want me, that you don't love me anymore and I'm gone." you whispered and he immediately denied it.
"They said your name, they talked about you, about us and I didn't know how to react." he closed his eyes for a moment, sighing as he felt your fingers tangle in his hair. "I don't think I've ever felt that… that fear. I thought it would be easier to walk away than stick around and let them hurt you. But shit, it hurt. It still hurts not to have you around."
"If you want, I can stay away, just ask, I understand. I just need you to be honest." His hands, previously tied around your waist, went up to your face, wiping away a few tears. "Now if I stay, we'll get through this together. Please..." your voice came out a lot lower than you expected. "Ask me to stay, tell me you still love me."
Your current self was waiting for an answer, yearning to hear those damn three words. Your now self didn't have a shred of regret. If at any time you dared to rethink what had been said, that was left behind when you felt his lips on yours.
His right hand tangled in your hair, deepening his lips on you, while the other kept you attached to him, squeezing your waist. His tongue drew the roof of your mouth, such a good and familiar feeling. God, how you missed that.
"I love you." Bucky's voice murmured, moving just a few millimeters from your lips. "I love you." he stole another kiss, this time even more intense. "I love you, every bit, every part." the kisses began to go down the back of your neck, reaching that part that shivered your entire body.
"Bucky, please."
"Let me love every piece of you, please doll." he asked, letting his tongue run up to the edge of your ear. "Fuck, let me show you that I haven't stopped loving you for a second."
"You have no idea how much I've missed you babe." you whispered, pressing your still covered intimacy against him.
Heat was starting to build up in your core, making it impossible to think. His lips pulled away from yours, only for in a single thrust, he'd jump to his feet and keep you locked in his arms. It didn't take long for you to feel your body against the soft fabric of the bed. Bucky took a little time to admire you, there again. The red eyes, the shy smile that was still there, even after so long.
"I missed you so much, here, in my bed, being all mine" his eyes asked permission to continue and a slight nod was enough for your pants and your blouse to find the bedroom floor.
His metallic hand ran over your shoulder, gently removing your bra, with each new piece of skin uncovered, you felt his lips deposit quick kisses, the urgency to be able to feel each piece of yours.
"Do not tease me." you asked when his lips touched your nipple. The tongue circling the protruding point, eliciting a timid groan from you.
"You are so sensitive, so good." the wet kisses descended towards your intimacy, touching with the lips the thin and humid fabric that prevented it from going exactly where you wanted.
You even tried to fight back, but even strangled, Bucky could hear you.
"Don't hold back, babe." he pulled the fabric off, tossing it along with the pile of clothes on the floor. Distracted lips, sliding down your thigh. "Let me hear you."
"It's dawn Buck, I don't want them to think... Fuck!" his tongue went straight to your clitoris, eliciting a muffled scream.
"What you saying." he pulled back a little, just to admire her intimacy. "All this for me?"
"It's how I missed you." Bucky dove into your intimacy, sucking your spot.
You could already feel your body about to boil. His tongue slowly circling your clit, while one of his fingers slowly entered your pussy, soon becoming two.
Sweet nothings came out of your lips, begging for something you didn't even recognize and it didn't take long for your vision to become blurred when you felt his tongue being replaced by the vibranium hand, the fingers cold as snow in contact with your clit were more than enough to reach your peak.
"Don't stop, please, please Bucky!"
"Give it to me honey, I know you want to come for me."
For a few seconds, amid an almost hoarse scream, your previously blurred vision disappeared for good. Your legs were shaking as you felt him settle between them. The lips still wet from your juice slid down your cheek, making you blink slowly.
"Still with me doll?"
"Yeah babe." you took his lips, tasting your own and giving him the freedom he needed to enter you.
He thrust slowly, Bucky's face hid in your neck as he moaned low, murmuring sweet nothings to you. So tight love. How I missed this pussy, made for me. You are mine, all mine.
The speed gradually increased, the headboard of the bed knocked insistently against the wall and you just hoped that the neighbors had a heavy sleep.
"Love, I can't hold it anymore." his hand went down to your clit, circling the most sensitive spot on your body. "I can sense that you can't either."
"Just like that Bucky, keep fucking like that." you begged, feeling the heat take over your body again.
"Come with me my angel. I can feel you tighten around me, give me one more, just one more."
The moans of both of you came out in unison and leaving you on the verge of an orgasm, it was only necessary to feel his hot liquid invade you to reach your own peak.
Bucky stayed in there for a few seconds, until he got out of you and turned you on top of him, hugging you tight and sticking his nose through your hair. Your scent was intoxicating, your body against his made him feel again that that cold apartment was home.
"You forgive me?" the hesitant tone of his voice caught your attention.
"Nothing to forgive" you settled on his chest. "Just promise never to leave me for that again?"
He gently pulled your face, making you look into his blue eyes. "I'll never, never leave you again, that's the easiest promise I've ever made in my life."
"I love you Buck."
"I love you more my angel." you snuggled into his chest and little by little your eyes grew heavy, his hands sliding on your back, in a comfortable silence.
The last thing she heard before falling asleep was an indignant tone in his voice.
"Wait, do you really want to learn how to fight?"
183 notes · View notes