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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 year

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MASTERMIND- J.B BARNES

Pairing: Boyfriend! Bucky x Virgin! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: you had never been interested in sex, or men for that matter- until you met bucky. now bucky and you had been going strong for months, and there's no one else you’d want to lose your virginity to. now the only challenge was making it seem like you were experienced...

Warnings: SMUT, reader losing her v card, dry humping, teasing, lots of pet names, PRAISE kink, slight playful choking, size kink, breeding kink if u squint real close, aftercare, reader has some anxiety, bucky being a really, really big sweetheart and a charming gentleman. seriously would die for this man.

“so i told you none of it was accidental, and the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me. i laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk on your face, you knew the entire time... you knew that i'm a mastermind and now you're mine.”- mastermind, taylor swift

Tonight was the night.

It was the night that would change your life, the night you would be thinking about each time your head hit the pillow, and when you’d wake up in the morning.

The clock continued to tick slowly, almost mockingly as you waited, fingers twisting themselves into a knot. It was life-changing for you, but the same for anyone else. Everyone else continued with their lives, all in their own little fantasy worlds, with their issues and desires.

It was confusing to think about, to wrap your head around. You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, just for anyone to hear you, so they could offer their advice, or not care at all.

Hey world! I’m a virgin, but my boyfriend doesn't know that! How do I go all the way with him without making it awkward?

But you kept your mouth shut, as you always did about things that mattered most to you.

You sat and waited, like a patient in the waiting room, desperate to get seen. The door remained shut, the doctor refusing to come out. You knew Bucky wasn't supposed to come to your place until later, but the anticipation was killing you.

It fired a pit in your belly, causing you to feel almost lightheaded as you waited, re-churning old worries and anxieties around in your mind like butter.

You were in university, had been for some time now- but you were still a virgin. It made you feel stupid, even though you knew it didn’t matter. Virginity was a social concept.

It was stupid, and dumb, and anyone could do what they wanted with their body whenever they wanted. Despite this, you still felt bad. Memories of your high school friends giggling and rushing to tell you of their sex lives haunted you, and even though you knew it probably was shit sex, at least they were getting some.

You were surprised Bucky hadn't pushed the matter, regardless of the fact the two of you had been together for a few months now. They were the best few months of your life, and he had never made you feel so safe and comfortable in your own skin.

So why was this so nerve-racking?

He was obviously waiting for you to make the first move, to make sure you felt secure with his intentions. You hung your head low, hands coming up to rub your tired eyes as you sighed in the quiet.

This was stupid. You were being stupid.

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“This is stupid.” Bucky called from his spot on the couch, banging the remote with his hand as his head slouched back over the couch back.

The internet had gone out for the second time this week, your landlord refusing to call the company no matter how much his residents complained. You watched the Netflix Error screen pop up on the screen again, the loading screen making Bucky's eyes roll along with it.

“Trust me baby, I know.” you said, popping a blueberry in your mouth, its sweetness exploding in your mouth.

“I guess we won't get to see Andrew Garfield's beautiful biceps after all.” Bucy hummed, tossing the remote so it buried itself in the cushions, a chore the two of you would have to complete when he’d want to watch cartoons with you in the morning.

It sounded lame, but the amount of happiness you got from eating sugary cereal and watching old shows you both watched as kids was exhilarating.

Bucky reached his arms out, an indicator he wanted you to curl up in his lap, a silent order you happily obeyed. “I guess not.” you pouted, trotting over to your personal teddy bear, breathing in his calming cedarwood scent.

His skin was warm to the touch, fingers reaching to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear- lingering just a little longer than they needed to. You smiled as you looked up at him, your legs straddled across his lap, arms linked loosely around his neck.

It was a position you often sat in, his need for personal touch consuming every waking hour when the two of you were together. But this time, it felt almost different- in a way.

There was a secret message intertwined into your touches as you rested your head on his shoulder, nose nuzzling the side of his neck as you hummed softly. You breathed him in, utterly consumed by him as his hands found their place at your sides, repeating the same soothing strokes up and down your body.

It was delicate, but you were hungry.

You didn’t know how to approach this, this overwhelming urge you were feeling.

How was this supposed to start?

You didn’t want to outright tell Bucky, because that felt too weird. Too naked and vulnerable for your liking. You had to hint that you had done this, and that you wanted to do this- because you did.

But you were inexperienced. And you knew that Bucky had experience- which made you feel even more stupid if you messed up.

You were frozen, a realization hitting you all at once that you didn’t know how to even begin to approach this. The endless hours of planning this, planning exactly how and when, and who did not compare to the actual moment at hand.

Bucky sensed this, as he always did- picking up on your sudden small movements. A catch of a breath, a fidget of the hands, the continuous tapping of a foot never got past him. “Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?” you poked your head up, meeting his soft gaze as he studied you intensely. “What’s going on inside that pretty little mind of yours hm?” he asked, large hand coming up to cup your cheek as if the thoughts would trickle out into his palm.

You gnawed on your lip, teeth digging into the flesh as you debated.

Hold it off. You will sound like an idiot. Don’t even think about mentioning it.

“M’just thinking.” you smiled, yet it wavered.

“Just thinkin?”

“Just thinkin.” you replied, thankful he didn’t push you further. Instead, he just kissed you- lips soft and inviting against yours, tasting of peppermint. You moaned, body leaning closer to him on instinct, hips rolling against him.

“I’m gonna find out what's on your mind eventually.” he whispered, making you shake your head in response, a coy little smile plastered across your face like a mask.

“Maybe.” you teased, kissing him again to shut him up. It was a little game you liked to play with him- fighting for that sense of dominance, though deep down you knew he always possessed it.

Bucky’s hands roamed, making you shiver with excitement, his hips bucking up in sync with yours as the minutes dragged on. It was hot and heavy, gasping breaths and teeth and tongue.

But this, this was about as far as it had gotten with you two. This teasing, this edging and dry humping until someone spilled in their pants.

But not tonight.

You didn’t think you could leave it at this tonight.

You decided to take a risk, bringing your hand down to rub across the smooth planes of his stomach, brushing your fingers across the bulge in his pants, making him hiss.

“Doll if you keep doing that I dont think I’m gonna be able to control myself.” he growled gently, forcing your eyes to meet his own predatory gaze.

“I don’t want you to.” you breathed, a hint of a whisper that seemed to blend with the heavy pants, the rise and fall of his chest. An eyebrow was raised, hand sliding up to fit perfectly around your neck as if it were a choker.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you pretty angel?” he asked, making you nod.

“Yes but- but I’ve never-”

He stopped. Instantly, his hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your heated cheeks with such delicately it was as if you were a petal upon a blooming flower.

“Woah, woah lets step back for a second angel. You’ve never… you’ve never been intimate with anyone before?”

You shoke your head.

This was embarrassing. Holy fuck this was embarrassing.

“No I haven't. I know it's embarrassing and totally lame, I understand if you dont want to do anything anymore.” All he could do was shake his head, shushing your words.

“It's not embarrassing at all. It's kinda hot actually, that I’m the lucky one to get you like this. But angel, are you sure you want to do this… with me? You want it to be with me?”

“Yes.”

Because truth be told, you couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else. You wanted to be Bucky, more than anyone else.

“We can stop at anytime, okay? Don’t feel like we have to do this, or it’s too late to say no. You want to stop, we stop- no questions asked. And tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like, please.” he insisted, making you giggle as he kissed your lips gently.

The breath was stolen from your lungs as you were suddenly swept upwards, definitely gravity as Bucky picked you up in his arms. You wrapped your limbs around him tightly like a koala bear, curious as to where he was taking you.

“Where are we going?” you asked expectantly, watching as he made his way to your bedroom- to the layers of blankets the two of you had tangled in so many times before.

Never like this though.

“I’m not allowing your first time to be on some silly couch angel. I’m gonna take care of my girl.” he cooed, laying down upon the sheets, standing over you with a gleam in his eye.

“So now what?” you breathed, scared on how things would play out next. You weren't quite sure what exactly you truly liked yet. You knew you liked when Bucky was gentle with you, when he would whisper sweet praises in your ears and when he would coax you to an orgasm.

But during actual sex? It was a clean, blank slate.

“Can I take these off sweetheart?” he pointed to your sleep shorts, butterflies in your chest fluttering so hard you could hear them faintly in your ears. You nodded, too scared to say anything, too scared to even breathe in case you woke up and this was all a dream.

Bucky's hands were soft as they slid up your thighs, and you lifted your hips slightly to assist him as he slowly tugged them off- savoring the moment as much as you were.

“There we go.” he smiled as he tossed the shorts to the floor, watching you eagerly slide the shirt off your head to reveal yourself to him.

All that was left was a small scrap of fabric covering you, one that was getting wetter and wetter with each passing second Bucky looked at you like that.

Like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. Like he was mesmerized, like he was hungry and only you could satisfy them. You couldn't help but laugh nervously as he took you in.

“S’beautiful. So, so so pretty, such a pretty girl.” he babbled, raising your leg to rest over his shoulder as he peppered kisses to your inner thigh all the way to your ankle. You couldn't help but let your hands slide up to cup your breasts, closing your eyes in pleasure as you toyed with your nipples.

“That's it baby. Do what makes you feel good.” he groaned, rutting himself against the bed frame as he watched you play with yourself in rhythm with his kisses and scrapes of his teeth against your skin.

“I want you Bucky. Please, want you so bad.” you begged, one hand reaching down to run your fingers through the silk strands, getting lost in the ink.

“Yea? You ready sweetheart?”

“Please.” was all you could whisper, watching with delight as he rose to his full height, towering over you as he undressed himself for you. His shirt was tossed with your shorts, lost to the memory as his belt unbuckled.

This was happening. This was really, truly happening.

So many emotions were rushing through you like a freight train, anxiety, excitement, passion. It was overwhelming, but Bucky understood this.

“We can stop at any time. We can stop right now if you want, baby. I know it can be nerve-racking.” he assured, wanting nothing more for you to be comfortable and happy. Your happiness was his. It was something he often told you, and it brought nothing but a warmth that spread through your body. It felt nice to be cared about, to be looked after and cherished.

“I want this.” you murmured, desire laced in your tone as he leaned over you.

“I want this too. I’ve wanted this since the moment I’ve laid on that gorgeous lil body of yours.”

“Pervert.” you teased, his laughter echoing throughout the room before he peppered kisses across your cheeks, causing your to squirm. “You’re such a minx.” he cooed, kissing you once more on the lips before he slid your panties down your thighs, over your thighs and toes before they were also, like everything else- forgotten.

Your breath seemed to get caught in your throat. The gentle pitter-patter of rain that slid down the windows echoed from the end of a tunnel, the candle you had lit a while back seeming to glow just a bit brighter to highlight the wanderlust in Bucky's eyes.

“Please.” was your only confirmation, your form of consent as he entered you slowly. You gasped, muscles tightening as you clawed his biceps. It was an unfamiliar feeling, intrusive as he moaned softly.

“Shh, just relax angel. Good girl.” he praised as you exhaled, wincing slightly at his size as he stretched you out.

He was big. You had known this, but it was different with him actually inside you.

“Do you wanna stop?” he asked, concerned. You shoke your head. “No, no I’m okay. Just feels weird is all.” you whispered, moaning slightly as he filled you even more, bulge appearing from your stomach.

“You're doing so well for me sweetheart, so so well. M’so proud of you darlin.” he cooed, making the fire in your belly flame that much higher.

Bucky stayed inside you, unwilling to move for a few minutes until he knew you were comfortable. Your nails began to declaw from his arm, little crescent moons doting his muscles as your breath filled your lungs easier.

“Can I move?” he hummed and you nodded, the feeling of pain morphing into some form of pleasure as he shifted.

“Oh fuck-” he moaned, his forehead brushing against yours as he rocked his hips, causing your back to arch, chest brushing his.

“Bucky oh god..” you drawled, finally understanding.

So this was what the hype was about. This is what people lived for, people died for, people killed for. This sense of connection, the closeness you reached, the feeling of bliss. The feelings that sparked inside your core that were new, something that made your head spiral. It was like Bucky had you under some spell, like this was some sort of daydream your body felt so tingly.

“You're so wet angel- n’ so tight-” he gasped as he filled you to the hilt again, finding a gentle, easy rhythm that sent you to the heavens. You were mindlessly babbling, no words coming out of your mouth coherent as your eyes rolled.

“I- love-you-mghm.” you moaned with each thrust, your body jolting as the bed rocked from Bucky's movements. His hand pinned yours above your head, a makeshift handcuff as his lips found yours again, silencing your whines.

“I love you so, so much darlin, so good to me. Just let go for me baby, let go.” he whispered, your body following his commands as you felt the coil break, release washing over you as you clamped down on his cock.

“O-Oh god-” you panted, hiccuping on your noises as you struggled to catch your breath. “Good girl. Good, good girl.” Bucky coaxed you, riding you through your orgasm.

You sensed his breath hitch, his noises getting louder with each shift of the bed frame- and you knew he was getting close. “Inside. I’m on the pill.”

“Oh god baby shit shit shit-” he panted, your words turning him on even more than he thought was possible. His grip tightened around your wrists as he came inside you with a growl of your name, possessiveness seeping out of him from the way he kissed and bit along your collarbone.

You felt full and warm, Bucky’s chant of “I love you, I love you oh god I love you” against your skin making you giggle.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” you smiled.

“Thank you for being the most wonderful, most beautiful girlfriend in the history of the universe.” he teased, freeing your hands from his grip so you could run your fingers through his hair once more, cupping the sides of his cheeks as he always did to you.

You winced slightly as he slowly eased out of you, feeling his cum slowly seep from your abused hole. “I know pup m’sorry, I promise you're okay.”

He kissed you not once, not twice but three times as you pried your squinted eyes open, your body slowly relaxing as he stood. You stared up at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan spin as the cool air washed over your hot and sticky skin.

Going over so many things in your mind, relief spilling through each aching muscle. You had lost your virginity- and there was nothing to be scared about. It wasn't so much the actual sex you were worried about- more so the stigma you were worried you'd inflict on yourself. Scared you would do something wrong, or worried Bucky would look at you differently after hearing you had never done it with anyone else.

Of course the thought were irrational, you knew this now looking back on them but they were still valid nonetheless.

Bucky's footsteps snapped you out of your trace, and you now realized you were too deep in thought to even notice him leave the room. A smile was plastered on his face, baby blues seeming to glow brighter than they had all night- if that were even possible.

A damp facecloth was in his hand and you watched as he sat down beside you, bed dipping slightly as he brushed the warm cloth between your inner thighs. “So that happened.” you said, as if you were stating a fact at a business conference.

“So that happened. Are you happy that it happened?” he asked and you laughed, hiding your face behind your hands.

“So happy it happened. I wanted this to happen.” you confessed, snuggling into him as he lay down beside you, capturing you in a soft embrace. He kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you tightly, as if he were scared you would let go.

“You’re a mastermind.” he chuckled, the happiness rushing through you so contagious you wondered if everyone else in New York could feel it.

You hoped they did.

You knew they had other plans, other dates and things to stress about, but you hoped just for one second- they could feel the whisper of your giddiness in the wind. It was the kind of giddiness a child got when they ran downstairs on Christmas, seeing Santa had left them one cookie, but enough crumbs so they’d know he was there.

It was the kind of giddiness you only got when you were with Bucky, in his arms.

“What’s on your mind?” he’d ask again, later that night when the moon was high, sleep threatening to tug you under its waves.

And you’d tell him.

You’d tell him every little thing, about how much you loved him, how much you cared for him- how the feelings you had for him were like no other. And he’d kiss you again, drunk off the taste of you, until your lips were swollen and any worry you had were left far behind.

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eviesaurusrex · 1 year

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“ᴍʏ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱɪʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜ.” | ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

GIFs not mine!

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

summary: Bucky’s girl has to get her wisdom teeth removed, and he would go to all lengths to protect her from that experience—but he has to deal with the aftermath and takes care of her in the best possible ways.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of blood and surgical environment, mentions of pain and panic, Bucky being overprotective, mentions of his nightmares/night terrors, mentions of teeth removal, but overall more fluff than angst!

author’s note: This is entirely self-indulgence on my behalf bc I got mine removed on Tuesday, and it was probably the scariest experience I ever had in a doctor’s office. So, I need to imagine Bucky would be there and worry about me and take care of me.

;

He sat in the hallway, forearms resting on his knees, of which one bounced rapidly to ease the need to jump up and walk straight into that room. Steve was right next to him—Bucky suspected that YN had asked him to sit down with him, just in case—and he was thankful for his best friend’s company because the sounds he could pick up in the distance almost drove him mad.

Bucky knew that Steve probably heard them more clearly, but the faint sounds were already enough for him to want to jump up and save his girl from the excruciating fear she now had to face in there. She sounded like an injured and scared animal, and he could hear her sobs traveling to his ears—it reminded him so much of the sounds he woke himself with night after night, the panic all-consuming, and only her tender touches could pull him back out of the memories. Listening to YN making those exact same noises almost broke his heart to a million pieces.

“Why can’t they just put her under,” he mumbled angrily, hands pushing through his now short hair, which YN had cut for him during a sunny but lazy Saturday morning. Steve softly patted his shoulder. “You know her body would burn through the anesthesia faster than they could work, and they can’t use the stuff Bruce developed because she tends to get high blood pressure from it.” Steve tried everything to get through to Bucky, to console him, to make him understand that this was the only option—and that everything would be alright. “She will push through it. They gave her something to calm down, and she doesn’t feel any pain.” His words seemed like a joke as another sobbing moan was heard by the two super soldiers. “Doesn’t sound like it,” Bucky mumbled, face buried in his hands.

The blonde man sighed deeply before speaking up again. “Friday?” The AI instantly woke to life. “Yes, Captain Rogers?” He threw a look at his friend before asking the question. “How is YN holding up in there?” They had to wait a few seconds before Friday spoke again. “Agent LN‘s blood pressure is slightly elevated, but Doctor Hilton just said they would be done in only a couple of minutes. The last tooth is rotated, and he needs a bit longer to remove it than he did for the previous three. I will notify you when they are done.”

Bucky slumped back against the wall behind him, releasing the held breath in a deep sigh, but still continued the wringing of his hands. The wiring sound of his metal arm increased as he raked his metal fingers through his hair once more, his eyes closed and dark brows furrowed. At least he didn’t hear the pained moan coming from his girlfriend anymore, but he still could make out her soft crying.

The following minutes passed as slowly as eternity probably would feel before Friday announced that the procedure was finished and the last stitch was made. Neither Steve nor the nurses who worked in the medbay of the compound could stop the brunette soldier as he jumped off the too-small chair and rushed through the hallway. He didn’t even bother to check if he was allowed to enter the sterile surgical room; instead, he just stalked in there, throwing everyone a dark look, before hurrying himself over to YN, who still rested on the horizontal chair, eyes red and puffy from all the crying, tears still running down her already slightly swollen cheeks.

“Oh, YNN,” he whispered gently and softly, prying open her cramped fingers, which held tensely onto each other. He took her hand in his, pressed it against his chest, and leaned down to pepper her forehead in soft kisses, not wanting to risk hurting her if he dared to kiss her cheeks. “You did so well, doll. So, so well,” he continued his whispered praises and brushed the salty tears off her cheeks and from underneath her eyes with a feather-like touch of his thumb. She looked up at him, tears still clearly visible in her watery eyes, and another sob escaped her throat. But suddenly, she choked on it, and a bit of blood escaped her lips as she coughed, which Bucky was fast to dab from there with the towel laying on the surgical tray right next to her.

“There. All gone.” He smiled down at her, and YN stretched her arms out to him, desperation and the remnants of panic and fear on her still pretty face, and he softly pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the chair. “Make sure she lays upright for the first couple of days,” the surgeon says after Bucky has turned with her securely in his arms. “Cooling is essential, so start with it right away. When her cheeks swell up, you can do lymphatic drainage—Friday has the instructions. Check-up is tomorrow, and we will remove the stitches a week from now.“ The soldier nodded after every point made. “The painkillers and the antibiotics are in this bag, along with some instructions concerning her nutrition for the upcoming days, but Friday also generated a meal plan.” Again, another nod from Bucky while YN just clung to him. “She did really good,” Hilton smiled at last and released the couple.

Bucky carried her out of the room and let Steve accompany them on their way upwards onto the living floor. YN threw the blonde a thankful look before opening her mouth slightly. “Thanks, Stevie.” It was only a mumble, almost incomprehensible due to the cotton pads between her teeth and the still working local anesthetic, numbing her entire mouth, including her tongue, but Steve understood her nonetheless. “Everything for my sister-in-mind,” he returned with a soft smile and gently rubbed over her back. “Get some rest, cupcake.” She nodded at his words before snuggling her head back onto Bucky’s shoulder while Steve walked off and left them at the door to their shared bedroom.

“How is the pain, doll?” YN shrugged at that, clinging to him as he tried to put her on the bed and wanting to leave her alone. “Dongo,” she mumbled, and the soldier smiled down at her, crouching in front of the sitting woman. “Was never my intention, pretty girl. Just wanted to get your shoes off. Do you want some fluffy socks? One of my Henleys?” She nodded at both with brightening eyes, and Bucky smiled again before softly kissing the crown of her head, a hand gently combing through her hair. “Be right back, darling.” And he held his word, returning with her favorite pair of fluffy socks—the ones with candy canes and reindeer—and her favorite Henley—the dark red one. He helped her into both, always careful not to touch her cheeks.

He moved her into the middle of the enormous bed, propping her up with the pillows lying around and tucking her in. “Gonna do a quick run to the kitchen to get you those cooling packs, doll. Need anything else?” She shook her head and watched him as he left and even stared at the door when he returned only minutes later—arms filled with all kinds of stuff.

YN raised both brows in silent question after Bucky had neatly piled everything on top of the bedside table and tried to figure out how he could attach the cooling packs to her face. He would hold them day and night, but the soldier was sure that his girlfriend wouldn’t be fond of that suggestion. “Don’t give me that look, doll. Y’know, I can’t let you starve or dehydrate. Nat gave me those drink meals? And Tony found some of those squeeze puree bags Peter used when he got his removed. I don’t know; it says something about banana and strawberry flavor, and that sounded quite good, didn’t it? Oh, and I got you lots of water, and Wanda will bring some tea later. She said it would be antibacterial? S’supposed to help with the healing and—…” He rambled without pause, and YN gently pressed her pointer finger onto his lips and let him shut up. “Sorry,” he mumbled against her skin with a bashful smile.

“Give me those.” YN took the cooling packs out of his restless, moving hands and pointed to their shared closet. “Could you bring me a scarf?” Bucky was up and on the other side of the room within a blink of an eye and held three options over his head, a questioning expression in his eyes. “Which one?” YN smiled softly and slightly shook her head. “Doesn’t matter, silly,” she told him, but Bucky still treated the decision like the most important one on this day. “I think we should go with the grey one. It’s soft enough for your skin, it’s not too expensive to be crying over it when you ruin it, and it’s big enough for whatever you might wanna do to it,” he finally decided and brought it to her before plopping down next to YN and watching her in her doings.

She folded it in half lengthwise and put the two cooling packs in the middle before wrapping them in the fabric. Then, she lifted the now-heavy scarf and started to make a knot on the top of her head—the section with the packs now tightly resting around her chin and cheeks. Bucky stared in awe at her inventing mind, and a chuckle escaped him after YN had turned her head to face him. “You look like a little bunny. Or that one Disney character with the long ears.” YN giggled at that. “You mean Goofy?” He nodded with a grin before pulling her close to his body.

“How is the pain? Do you need some of those painkillers?” He had to make sure that it didn’t get worse while he was gone. And he was glad he asked because she nodded slowly, almost shyly. “Yeah… Think the anesthetic is wearing off,” the agent mumbled, and he was quick to get the package from the bag and one of the water bottles he had brought. “There you go,” he mumbled after carefully removing the blood-drenched cotton pads from her mouth, and she had thrown one in and emptied the bottle halfway. “Don’t have to feel embarrassed, love. Just tell me if you need another one, yeah? You don’t have to suffer only because you think you have to.” YN nodded gently and leaned her head heavily on his shoulder.

“I was so scared in there,” she finally dared to whisper and felt his hold around her tighten. “I know, love. Heard you through that entire hallway. It broke my heart not to be able to protect you from that. But you did so, so well. My brave girl,” the usually grumpy super soldier mumbled into her soft hair, pressing several kisses to her temple. “Sorry for worrying you. And scaring you. I just… just couldn’t stop the tears and the sounds because it hurt so bad but didn’t hurt at the same time because everything was numb, but my jaw…” The memory of the feeling when a tooth was pulled out alone made her nauseous again, not to mention the sickening sound when the surgeon had to crack one of her teeth in order to get it out of her damn jaw.

Bucky held her even closer at that and hummed softly. “It’s over now, love. And stop apologizing, hm? It’s my responsibility to worry myself to death when it comes to you. You’re my everything, YNN. It’s natural for me to worry about’ya.” She looked up at him and accepted the incoming forehead kiss with tiredly closing eyes, finally feeling comforted and loved and safe again. “But y’don’t have to hang here the entire week. I know you have missions and the evaluation of the recruits, and—…” Now it was Bucky’s turn to tenderly lay a finger to her lips and urge her to look up at him again. “Did you really think for a second I’d leave you all to yourself? To let you look after yourself alone? Silly woman,” he grinned and pecked the tip of her nose with a soft kiss. “You’re my responsibility, doll. So it’s my responsibility to take care of you this entire week. Haven’t had so much time with you in weeks, so I’m very willing to stay right here where I am.”

YN blinked slowly, comprehending his words, and sniffled a bit as tears tried to rise in her eyes. “You really stay here?” She couldn’t understand the luck she had to have Bucky at her side. But his nod showed her that he meant it. “You can bet on it. You will be so sick of me after these seven days,” he chuckled and let her cuddle tightly into his chest. “Not possible,” she whispered, and within a few seconds, Bucky felt her body getting heavier in his arms and all he did was hold her while she slept off the adrenaline and panic from earlier.

;

As already mentioned, this was entirely selfish to write because I really needed that. But still, I hope y’all enjoyed it at least a bit :3 As usual: comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated!

taglist: @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83 @nyctophilic0vitnir

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incorrectmarvelquotesss · 6 months

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— flufftober (day 1) —

Warnings: lots of fluff (obviously), pregnancy, hormones

Prompt: Sweet Tooth (11)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: ~600

@flufftober

The sweet cinnamon scent in the air was strong as you hummed to the music, gliding through the kitchen with a bowl of batter in your arms. The early sun sent honey through your windows, a warm hue flittering across the room and a cool breeze blowing in from an open window. The song mixed into another as you poured out the batter into the pan, watching the thick orange liquid splatter the white parchment paper.

You started muttering the lyrics to yourself, slowly tipping the bowl and grabbing a spoon to wipe the access batter off of the rim. Your timer went off as a car honked in the distance, a rare occurrence in the town, and you shoved a oven mitt over your hand. Opening the oven door, the steam of heat hit your face and the scent of apples filled your nostrils.

Grabbing the apple pie and setting it on the stove, you turned around to grab the pumpkin cake batter, swaying your hips slightly as the front door opened and closed. You placed the cake inside to bake and surveyed the mess in the kitchen. There wasn’t much to clean, seeing that you liked to clean between the steps and kept your ingredients in order.

“Smells good, sweets,” a masculine voice from behind called out. You snorted and smiled as your turned around to face him, grinning when you caught the bags in his hands full of candy.

Bucky placed the bag of candy on the counter, leaning his hip against it and bringing a hand up to shove his hair back from his eyes. His eyes lit up at the sight of apple pie behind you on the stove, cooling off and almost ready to eat. You wiped your hands on the apron, watching his eyes dart back to you. You gestured for him to step forward, swivelling around with a small giggle.

His mismatched hands travel up your sides, he reached the neck ties, tugging and letting them falling open. The top half of the apron flopped forward and landed over your growing stomach. His lips landed on your neck, flesh hand coming out front to your bump and rubbing gentle circles. His metal hand slid down and pulled at the string tied around your waist, flesh hand crinkling the front of it as he held it from falling to the ground. His metal arm wrapped around your waist and held you close.

“Bucky?” You turned around in his arm, capturing his gaze. “Did you get KitKat?” You eyed the bag as he licked his lips and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Um, so funny story,” Bucky started, laughing nervously and scratching the back of his neck with the apron still in his hand. His metal hand flexed against your lower back, teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

“You forgot?” Your lower lip trembled. Bucky’s eyes went wide as he shook his head furiously, apron flying to the counter to land beside the bag. His hands came to your arms, holding you gently but firmly.

“I didn’t forget, sweets. I swear. They just didn’t have any,” Bucky said, watching your reaction very carefully. You merely nodded and sniffled, smiling up at him.

“Sorry, hormones,” you whispered, letting him place his lips against yours and then quickly shaking his head.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, sweets.” Bucky’s eyes landed on the pie behind you again, grinning. “I’ll get you some tomorrow from the other grocery up north, but, for now, think we can have some of that pie?”

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loving-barnes · 6 months

Text

BUCKY BARNES – POOL. DEAD.

(A/N): Another one-shot? What? Is this really happening? I mean... yes. I just wanted to write something and post it... so here you go.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x mutant!female reader

Summary: Y/N has a fucked-up friend.

Warning: language, some sexual themes (just a little bit)

Words: 1500+

BUCKY BARNES – POOL. DEAD.

The day was replaced by night. Bucky was walking through Central Park with his lover by his side. Their hands were occasionally toughing and as much as he wanted to grab her hand into his, he wouldn’t do it. They were on a mission that she didn’t want to tell him about. It drove him crazy. Their walk was slow and confident. Both looked dangerous, but not as dangerous as the person they were supposed to meet. Y/N’s old friend.

“Are you sure we can trust this guy?” Bucky asked her, eyes scanning the surroundings. He trusted his girlfriend, however, he always kept his eyes open and was ready for anything.

“He’s an asshole but you will love him,” she said.

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Y/n smiled. There were not many people in her life she trusted. She trusted Bucky. She loved him with her whole heart. This guy was also one of the people she trusted. They had a history together and experienced the same shit together. “Just trust me, honey. I know what I’m doing.”

“Does Sam know this guy?” he asked.

“No, he doesn’t. Although, he might like him too.”

“Y/N, you are killing me here,” Bucky stopped walking. He turned to her, a bit annoyed. “You didn’t give me any info. You didn’t give me the name of this dude or what kind of person this friend of yours is. I love you, I trust you, but…”

Her hands wrapped around his neck as she smiled at him lovingly. “We need him, Buck. We finally found the organisation that is turning people into mutants and using them as a weapon of mass destruction. I want him to come with us and let him play with those assholes,” she explained.

Without waiting, he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. His hands wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly. It’s been some time since he kissed her and while they were alone, he took his opportunity.

“Someone is eager,” she chuckled, loving how clingy he was. Any public display of affection was rare, but she enjoyed every second of it.

“Ugh, you’re gonna make me gag,” said a voice from the dark, making a disgusting hurling sound. Y/N bit her lower lip, trying to hold her laugh.

Bucky frowned, pushing her body protectively behind his. Y/N simply rolled her eyes at the action but let it slide. That’s when a person, all dressed in a tight red combat suit came out of the dark. His whole face was covered under a red mask and he had two swords sticking out behind his back. He was even clapping his hands.

“I never knew you liked tongue-fucking in public,” he stated, laughing at the couple. “Dirty girl.”

She rolled her eyes and patted Bucky’s shoulder to keep him calm. Then she approached him. “Nice seeing you too, Wade. So, still ugly under the mask? Do children think you are the monster under the bed?”

Bucky’s eyes widened, shocked by the words coming from his girlfriend's mouth.

“Hah, oh you know how it is. But I tried this new moisturising mask and I think it made my skin softer,” he said. “I’m always trying to stay hydrated.”

“As if that is going to help you,” she fake-smiled at him. When Y/N turned to her boyfriend, she noticed how confused he was. “James, this is Wade, the old friend.”

“Ouch, that hurt, Y/N. I’m not old,” he pretended to be offended. “By the way, I’m Pool. Dead. Your partner and I were tortured together in the past by a man named himself a dish soap brand. Oh, those were the fun old days. I miss them.”

“Yeah, those were the days,” Y/N laughed. “How’ve you been, dickhead? How’s Vanessa?”

“Good, good. The baby-making factory is now open and we are trying to have a family,” he said proudly. “Can you imagine a mini-me running around with a gun and my sword, killing all those bad guys?” Wade daydreamed. “So, what about you? Are you and Terminator also planning a family? Oh! Can you imagine our kids playing together? That’d be so fucked up,” and he laughed.

“What the fuck is going on?” Bucky whispered, confused.

Y/N stroked his back lovingly and smiled. “Wade has no manners and does not know how to normally talk to people. As he said, together we were used for an experiment that turned us into these mutant-like people and then they wanted to use us. Luckily, with Wade’s help, we managed to escape. It wasn’t pleasant, but here we are.”

Wade tilted his head. “So, princess, what is it that you want from me?”

“We found more people that tortured you,” said Bucky firmly, trying to show him his dominance. He didn’t like the princess nickname he gave her.

“Wait, I killed Ajax and that busty bitch that worked for him,” Wade commented.

“Yeah, turns out, there are more people that run this business and we have the chance to kill them all.”

“We are not going to kill them,” Bucky frowned at her.

“Oh, we are most certainly going to kill them,” said Wade. “It’s going to be so much fun! But, if you are not feeling comfortable doing it, Soldier Boy, then I suggest you stay back and let us play.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, come on, Wade, play nice.”

“How can you be friends with this asshole?” Bucky had to ask.

“I told you he’s an ass,” she said.

“Ha, ha, ha, god, you really are hurting my feelings,” Wade laughed. “I like you. Anyway, back to the cock-suckers that are still thriving in this world. Where are they now?”

“They have a new base in Mexico where it is easier is collect people for their experiments and turn them into mutants. This time, they are also kidnapping children. It’s turning into something darker and twisted than it was before. We went willingly, but they used us. Now, it’s a different game.”

“The company is now called Nightlock,” Y/N continued.

“Wait, is it actually happening? Are we entering the Hunger Games?” he put three fingers to where his mouth would be, kissed them and then raised them in the air, whistling.

Bucky had his mouth open, not catching up.

“Honey, I’m going to show you the Hunger Games trilogy once we have more time,” she said sweetly.

“He didn’t see the Hunger Games? Break up with him,” Wade shook his head in disapproval.

Bucky was ready to attack the man, but Y/N quickly stopped him with her power and trapped him in tight purple lighting. “Easy there, tiger. I thought you were already caught up in this conversation but we still have a lot to learn.” When she felt his body relax, she lifted the power and grabbed him by his flesh hand.

Wade laughed. “Well, this was fun but I’ve got to go. I have to give a cock-shot to one fucker who has been harassing this girl’s life. Or what I like to call it - a play-date night. Send me the details and I’ll see you soon.”

“Just check your e-mail, douche. You already have everything there.”

“How did you manage that you little witch?” he gasped.

“I’m just that good,” she winked at him.

“Yes you are you dirty girl,” he teased. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

“Wade,” she said his name sweetly. “Please don’t call me when you’ll have sex with Vanessa. It’s creeping me out.”

“What?” Bucky gasped.

That’s when both Wade and Y/N started to laugh loudly. “Oh my fucking god, your boyfriend is delicious. I could eat him up. Ah, this was fun, Y/N.”

“Yes, it was. I’ll see you soon, Deadpool-y boy,” she waved at him and took Bucky with her.

“Deadpool-y boy? Fuck you,” he shouted at her.

When the pair was far away from the “Pool” guy, as Bucky thought, he turned her around and grabbed her by the shoulders. “What the actual fuck was that Y/N?” he had to ask. “That guy is your friend? You have weird friends.”

She quickly leaned in and kissed his lips. “Yes, he is and he’s the best.” Bucky immediately glared at her. “Second best, because you are the number one, baby.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Have you slept with him?” he asked carefully.

“Ew!” she shouted and smacked his chest. “How could you think of that question? Ugh, nasty. Although, I must admit that I saw him naked once - and it was not nice,” she shivered. “He wears a costume and the mask for a reason Buck. He would bring you nightmares.”

“Oh, god, I’m not going to ask anything else,” his face lost a bit of colour.

Y/N laughed at him and cuddled closer to his side. “I love you, Buck. And you know what?”

He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

She pulled herself closer to him, pressing her lips to his ear. “You are bigger than him,” and she bit his earlobe.

Bucky shivered. “Can we go home now?” he slightly moaned as he felt her lips travelling to his neck where she peppered him with kisses.

“Oh yeah, big boy.”

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Marvel fanfiction #James Barnes x reader #James Bucky Barnes x reader #James Barnes x female reader

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year

Text

The 30th by Billie Eilish

Summary: (Alternative Unvierse) It’s been 5 months since you and Bucky official divorced. You still don’t understand what happened between you and him but a phone call from Memorial Hospital stops you in your tracks and shatters your world.

Warning: car accident, injury based on that, mention of stalking

Word Count: 2.8K

“Is this Mrs. Barnes?” A female voice asked. The last name that you haven’t used for a little over a year surprised you. You and Bucky have been separated for a year but divorced for 5 months. ‘Mrs. Barnes’ was a name you haven’t heard in a very long time.

“Speaking, may I ask who's calling?” You asked. You were putting dishes away from dinner and your kids were asleep.

“Of course ma’am, I am the head nurse on call at Memorial Hospital.” You sat down on the island. Your mind began to spiral on each possible situation. Was it your parents? Natasha? Steve? “Your husband was in a car accident.” The nurse said. Bucky must have kept you as his emergency contact.

“How is he?” You asked.

“He’s in serious condition but the doctors are doing everything they can.” Your heart stopped. The man you devoted so many years of your life to and the father of your children. You cleared your throat.

“Can I come and see him?” You asked.

“Yes, you can. I’ll let security know.”

You were thankful your neighbor, Wanda, and her husband, Vision, were able to watch the girls. Their twins were the same age as your eldest, Rebecca, and Wanda loved Taylor. The girls asked a thousand and one questions but you assured them that everything was okay even though you weren’t sure if that was the truth. You kept your emotions at bay as you drove to the hospital. You had to be strong for your girls, for Bucky, and yourself. You and Bucky met through a mutual friend, Natasha. You went to college with her and she and Bucky knew each other when they were kids. Natasha invited Steve and Bucky to go out with you during your freshman year. A drunken one-night stand turned into a coffee date the next morning then 4 years of dating. He proposed the day after you graduated college. Life was good. You gave birth to two beautiful girls and were doing well in your respective careers; you as a lawyer and Bucky was working as a contractor at Steve’s construction company. Then something changed. He became distant. He was there for the girls but he began sleeping in the guest room. He worked late and was away for many weekends. Finally, you confronted him and he asked for some time apart. He moved out and then asked for a divorce. You were completely blindsided by it and it hurt because you were still in love with the man.

A nurse brought you into his room. The sight took your breath away as you stared at Bucky. He was barely recognizable with machines attached to him, gauze keeping him together, and a tube down his throat. You were pretty sure a doctor came in to tell you the extent of Bucky’s injuries but their words weren’t registering with you. “Y/n,” you heard Natasha’s voice. You looked toward your friend. The doctors were gone and it was just you, Bucky, and her. She was wearing what she typically wore to work with her badge on her hip.

“Nat, what-? How-?” Your brain was short-circuiting.

“Let’s go talk somewhere else,” she led you out of Bucky’s room. You noticed an officer standing by Bucky’s door. Your friend led you to a conference room and you saw her partner, Maria. Steve called her Natasha’s work wife. You’ve met her a few times.

“Natasha, what is going on?” You asked, sitting down. A cup of coffee was already in front of you. Natasha sat down next to Maria.

“We don’t think Bucky’s crash was an accident,” Natasha said. You were stunned into silence.

“We found another set of tire tracks at the scene and in our initial investigation we found another paint color on the back of Bucky’s car,” Maria added. You leaned back in your chair and covered your face with your hands. The room was quiet, too quiet.

“Are you telling me someone tried to kill Bucky?” You finally asked, looking at Natasha. She nodded.

“It appears so,” she said. “Bucky had no alcohol or drugs in his system.” That was no surprise, Bucky was straight as an arrow when it came to not drinking and driving.

“Who the hell would try to kill him? Everyone loved him,” he was a little grumpy and as Sam said he had a ‘resting bitch face’ but he was a teddy bear.

“Have you noticed anything strange?” Maria asked. You glared at her.

“The man divorced me after being together for almost 10 years for no reason. Does that classify as strange?” You deadpanned, taking a sip of your coffee. You sighed. “Sorry. Before we got separated he was distant towards me but not the girls.”

“Was there trouble at work that Steve didn’t know about?” Natasha asked.

“I don’t know,” you told them.

“Could someone from the law firm be angry enough with you to go after him?” It was possible. You’ve worked some major cases over your career and your relationship with Bucky was public knowledge. You’ve tried to keep your kids out of the spotlight. You’ve gotten your fair share of death threats from family members and criminals.

“Maybe. I can have my assistant send you a list of people we’ve gotten threats from.”

“Thank you. For now, I’m going to assign an officer to you and your kids. Are the girls at Wanda’s?” You nodded. “Okay, I’ll have Coulson go over there.”

“Thank you, Nat.”

“Don’t thank me for just doing my job,” You said your goodbyes and headed back to Bucky’s room. You sent a text to Wanda explaining the situation and asked your assistant to send the information to Natasha and her team. You sighed, placed your phone in your pocket, and stood next to Bucky. You cupped his face gently in your hands and kissed his cheek.

“Don’t leave me, sergeant,” you whispered. “That’s an order.”

6 months later

Bucky’s condition improved but he was still in a coma. The doctors were hopeful that he would wake up on his own as he had high brain activity. You brought the girls to see their father and explained the situation to them in a way they’d understand. You told Bucky’s family as well. It was nice talking to his mother and sister again. You split your time at your office, the hospital, and at home. You were exhausted.

You were at the hospital working on a case when a knock on his door made you jump. You closed your laptop and looked at the door. It was Natasha, with a messenger bag over her shoulder. You saw the redhead almost every day. She was making sure you were taking care of yourself. “Hey Tash,” you said. “Are you here for work or pleasure?”

“Work, unfortunately.” You gave her your full attention. You didn’t ask about the ongoing investigation. You didn’t have the brain capacity to focus on it and you trusted Natasha to get the job down. She sat down in the empty chair next to you. “Does the name Brock Rumlow sound familiar to you?” She asked. You nodded.

“He was close friends with Alexander Pierce.” You put Pierce behind bars for conspiracy to commit murder when there was an attempt on Natasha’s boss’ life. You wanted to put Rumlow away too but there wasn’t enough evidence.

“Did you also know he and Bucky knew each other?” She asked. You didn’t hide the shock on your face. “They knew each other back when Bucky served.” He didn’t talk about his time over there. But you knew it still affected him as nightmares kept him up. “Once Bucky was discharged due to him losing his arm, the two stopped talking.”

“What does this have to do with the car accident?” You asked. Natasha pulled out a folder from her bag and set a picture down in front of you. It was of Bucky and Rumlow, dated right before Bucky asked for a divorce.

“Oh Buck,” you whispered. “What did you get yourself into?”

“They were meeting for a while.” She took the picture back into the file. “When you put Pierce away Rumlow lost it and went off the grid, the only time we resurfaced was to make contact with Bucky,” Natasha explained.

“What did he want?” You weren’t sure if Natasha was going to tell you.

“He wanted Bucky to help him break Pierce out of jail,” your stomach dropped. “He had some dirt on Bucky back when they served together and he threatened to release it. He also was following you and the girls,” she took out a few pictures of you and the girls at the park, grocery store, and the library. You rubbed your head.

“How-how do you know all of this?” You asked. She pulled out an evidence bag. Inside were Bucky’s dog tags and his cell phone.

“Bucky recorded every interaction. It took a while for the forensic team to pull the file off his phone.” She smiled at you. “He refused to help Rumlow and Rumlow caused the crash. The paint on Bucky’s car matched the car Rumlow has.”

“What?” You said, speechless. “Why are you sitting here and not arresting the jackass?” She punched you in the arm. “Ouch!”

“Maria and Phil are handling the arrest. I thought you wanted to know the whole story before the press took hold of it.” The press was watching this case like a hawk.

“Thank you. I won’t be able to play you back for everything you did.” She was working overtime on this case.

“You and Bucky are family. Now you can focus on healing,” she stood up to leave. You walked over to the door and hugged her. “One more thing.” She said, facing you. “Bucky tried to call you the night of the crash. But he couldn’t get through to you. He recorded a voice memo.”

“Did you listen to it?” You asked, already knowing the answer. She nodded.

“Maria and I were the only ones that listened to it. I sent it to your email.” You nodded. “Listen to it when you are ready.” She gave you one last hug before leaving you. The machines that were attached to Bucky seemed louder than normal. Maybe they were trying to be heard over your pounding heart. You took your cell phone and headphones from your bag and walked over to the window. You plugged your headphones in and found the email Natasha sent you. She said to listen to it when you were ready. You weren’t sure if you ever would be ready. You put your headphones in and hit play as you stared at Bucky’s still form.

It was silent besides the grunt or moan of pain. “Sugar, doll,” you felt your eyes burn with unshed tears. It’s been so long since he’s called you those pet names. “Fuck baby I messed up.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “I just wanted to keep you and the girls safe, you know?” He groaned. “I did some bad stuff overseas. Stuff I wasn’t ready to tell you. I thought I could handle Rumlow myself. So I distanced myself from.” He went quiet. “I thought if we weren’t seen together he couldn’t use you. I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Yes you are Bucky Barnes,” you whispered, wiping the tears away that fell.

“I miss you so much, baby girl. I don’t want to die without telling you how sorry I am,” you stood up and looked at Bucky. You ran over to him.

“You aren’t going to die Barnes.” You said, cupping his face in your hands. Your tears fell onto his skin.

“I love you. You and the girls are my worlds,” his voice continued. “Tell them that, will you?”

“Tell them yourself Bucky,” you whispered. “Tell them when you wake up.” It was becoming harder to make out his face because of how hard you were crying. “Please baby, you have to wake up.”

“You made me a better man, doll.” His voice was becoming strained and hoarse. “Meeting you was when my life started. I love you.” The voice memo ended. You rested your head on his chest, mindful of his injuries, and cried. You haven’t cried through this whole ordeal. You let yourself cry and cry and cry.

3 months later

Bucky woke up a month after Rumlow’s arrest and when he was released from the hospital he moved back in with you and the girls. They were ecstatic to have their father back with them as he healed and recovered. But you and Bucky were walking on eggshells around each other, uncertain of how to act with one another. Sometimes he would act as he did before the accident, before the divorce and the separation. Then other times he would pull away. He doesn’t remember much from that night, especially the phone call he made.

You had enough. For 2 months, you were at your breaking point. You sent the girls with your parents, you cooked his favorite food and dessert. The smell brought him out of the room. His hair was wet from a shower. “Do you need help?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Can you set the table?” He nodded, grabbing two sets of plates and silverware. You were sipping on wine already. Once the food was done, you ate in silence. You watched him eat, slowly sipping on your wine.

“You're starring,” he said.

“I am,” he whipped his face with a napkin.

“Can I ask what all this is for?”

“After dinner.” He washed the dishes. It was the rule when you were together whoever cooked didn’t have to do the dishes. You pulled out the cheesecake and cut two slices. You handed him a plate.

“It’s after dinner,” you nodded, taking a bite of your cheesecake.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked. He finished the cake and placed the dirty dish in the sink for later.

“You are going to have to be more specific,” he said, walking over to the couch.

“Rumlow. The fact that you knew him while I was working on the Pierce case,” he didn’t say anything as he sat down. You walked over to him and he was opening and closing his metal hand. “Or that he asked you to commit a crime and used me and the girls as leverage.” He still didn’t say anything. He wasn’t even looking at you. “We were a team, Bucky. Why didn’t you tell me?” He sighed.

“Because I didn’t want you or the girls to find out that I’m a monster.”

“What?” You questioned, sitting down next to you.

“I was tasked with black op missions overseas. They nicknamed me the Winter Soldier. I did so many horrible things for this country,” he explained. “Rumlow was on a few of those missions. I wasn’t ready to tell you.” You looked forward, staring into the fireplace.

“I know the man I married and fell in love with,” you said finally. “That man is not a monster.”

“Doll-” he said.

“No,” you cut him off and knelt in front of him. “You are not a monster. I’m upset that you didn’t tell me but I understand.” He smiled. “You tried to call me the night of the accident but it wouldn’t go through so you left me a voice memo. Do you remember what you said?” He shook his head.

“I vaguely remember it.”

“You told me you loved me,” your voice cracked. “That you missed me and that you were sorry.” You smiled. “You told me that the girls and I are your worlds and that I made you a better man.” He nodded.

“It’s the truth.” He whispered.

“I was so scared Buck,” you admitted. “What if the accident happened on a different day? On a bridge where there wasn’t a railing in the way. Or a neighborhood street where the little kids play?” You felt the tears running down your cheeks. “What if you weren’t alone and the girls were in the car? What if you were remote and no one knew where you were? If you changed anything, would you have not survived?”

“I’m alive,” Bucky said.

“You're alive.” You repeated. “You’re alive.” He pulled you onto his lap and hugged you. He hugged you tight as you cried against him. You felt his tears on your skin. You ended the hug and put your forehead against his, staring into his blue eyes. A color you didn’t think you would see again. “You’re alive.”

“I’m alive.” He said against your lips. You connected them. The kiss was slow and salty from your tears but it was perfect. You were so scared that you’d never hear his voice again, kiss his lips, or feel his hands on you. He pulled away. “Thank you.” You smiled.

“You said it on the phone, you're an idiot,” he laughed.

“But I’m your idiot.” You nodded.

“Yeah, you are.”

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #james barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x female reader #winter solider #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes drabble #natasha romanoff #maria hill #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes

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buckybringsviolets · 1 year

Note

Can I get a letter from 40s Bucky? Like an enemies to lovers one. Where he lists all the things that annoys him about her and then confesses that he actually loves them and her? A little angst to sweet sweet fluff?

Love>Hate

Hope this is what you had in mind!

40's Bucky X Female Reader

600+ words

No warnings except for lovesick Buck

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little troublemaker,

You asked me why I hate you so I’m gonna tell ya. I’m gonna try to keep my cool and not curse, but dammit doll, no one makes my blood boil like you do. And before you go and call me chicken for not confronting you in person with this, I’m only writin’ you ‘cause I don’t want to catch heck from Steve.

Okay, here goes, right outta the gate, when we first met, at the age of 8. When Steve introduced you. “Bucky?! What kinda name’s that? Sounds like your ma & pa named you after a dog.” You then started giggling, Stevie joining in with ya. “It’s a nickname, short for Buchanan, my middle name.” I told you, a smirk on my face. And you just smiled at me.

Even then, so young, but such a know-it-all. The way you talked, like you know everything, rattling off facts left and right, Ol’ Stevie just listening to ya like you’re the smartest person alive or something. “Did you know that horses and cows can sleep standing but only dream when lying down?” you’d look so proud, waiting for me to say something. “Yeah, that’s really something sweetheart.”

Speaking of Steve, don’t think I didn’t notice how you worked your way into his heart, by the time we were starting middle school it became Y/N & Steve this, Stevie & Y/N that. Stevie said you always asked about me, wondering why I was around much, but I think you were just looking to tease me about something.

That summer, between middle & high school? The trip the 3 of us took to Coney Island? Not only did you chase away Betty McIntosh (she was a real cookie! 😍) but you won that stuffed bear, THEN gave it to me! Jesus, doll, I wanted to win one for you!

I’m not even going to start in on prom. Every girl I asked, every one, said no way, that I was too hung up on you. “Y/N?! Are you nuts?” then they’d say “Yes, y/n!” I honestly don’t know what you told them to say that. But you must’ve said something.

And now, the way you go out with these guys, active duty men, I nicely warn you about them, ask you where they’re planning on taking ya. And you get all feisty with me “that’s none of your concern Bucky!” Just me looking out for you, and you’ve gotta get all upset with me. Just being a gentleman and all I catch is flak.

Doll, I’m gonna be a bit honest here, you kinda stunned me with what you said. “Bucky, why do you hate me?” a look on your face like I ain’t never seen before, something like concern, maybe heartbreak? And me, hate YOU? That is most certainly not something I could ever feel for you.

From the first time I saw you, when Stevie said “ this is y/n y/l/n, she’s new in town.” I knew. I was hooked. Doll, you are everything to me and more. But how could I ever tell you just how perfect you are? Not when I’m so… so not perfect. So I pushed you away. For your own good. Convinced myself you were better off without a mess up like myself.

So hate is not what I feel towards, for, you. Love, adoration, deep affection, definitely. You are amazing, gorgeous, so amazingly smart, generous to a fault. How could I not adore you, doll face?

Now before you start screaming at me, cut me some slack. I know I’m a dope, Stevie lets me know that every chance he gets. I’m crazy ‘bout you sweetheart, so maybe my brains a bit fried.

How about you let me take you out? Little dancing, a quick bite to eat, try my damndest to make it up to ya. Because y/n, you are IT for me. The endgame. ‘Till the end of line doll.

My love, always

James Buchanan Barnes

#letters from bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james barnes x reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x female reader #james barnes fluff #james barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan

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cosmos-coma · 1 year

Text

Metal’s Delicate Touch- Part 2

A/N: It’s my first time writing NSFW and I’m still not sure its something I wanna do regularly but please forgive me if it’s not great!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: NSFW, mild language, Angst and Fluff

Summary: You and James live in relative harmony until you learn metal’s delicate touch.

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The late morning greeted you softly as you woke, littering your ears with the sound of cars rumbling past the street below and people speaking in the hallway as they passed by.

A quiet groan escaped you as you stretched out across the bed, your hands lingering in the empty space beside you, cold and devoid of the warmth of your companion. ‘Maybe he slept somewhere else’ you thought, but the sheets on his side were just as disturbed. You rolled out of the warmth of bed and hobbled your way around the empty apartment to hop into the shower.

Bucky arrived before too long, his arms laden with bags and boxes which he slid onto the counter. The sound of the shower droned on in his ears before quickly shutting off as he nudged the door closed behind him and began putting things away.

“Buck?” you called when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, breaking into a bright smile when you saw the heap of things he had come home with.

Bucky on the other hand couldn’t help but freeze in his tracks as he saw you, his blood quickly draining down to his lower half. His large T-shirt draped over your form, the hem brushing itself against your upper thigh- exactly what his fingers burned to feel again. The scent from his shirt lingered and mixed with your own, forming a wondrous sensation that Bucky was proud to see you covered in.

“I hope this is alright, I didn’t have any clothes to change into and thought it would be okay to raid your closet until we can get my things.” You explained as you came closer and leaned on the kitchen island across from him, his shirt riding up on your hip.

His weight shifted as he felt his pants grow a bit tighter against him, betraying his hungry thoughts. “It’s fine…” he cleared his throat, attempting to get his mind back on track, “I actually- well, I got you a few things. I know it’s pretty bare here and I thought these would help it seem a little more comfortable.” He pulled out a blanket, some spare clothes, books, even a radio, and various little snacks all for you. He had no way of knowing exactly what items would give you the most comfortable, so he thought he’d just get a bit of everything.

A grin spread wide across your face as you poked around the various gifts, eventually bringing the blanket close as you hugged it to your chest. “They're more than I could’ve asked for…” your smile radiated a brightness that seemed to illuminate the whole apartment. You were a sun gracing the rest of your universe with fine rays of light and Bucky was happy to even be a passing star in your universe- let alone something as permanent as a planet.

Life passed by well with Bucky by your side, albeit with somewhat of a rocky start. It took a little while for him to show you his metal arm- even longer for him to give you anything more than feather light touches with it. He had stopped flinching early on, finding the tense twister of doubt and anger living inside him to dissipate under your simplest touch.

HYDRA had wiped so much of him away, his compassion, his trust, his capacity to love. At one point he thought it was all gone for good, that now that he was out he was going to live as a shell of a human being. But slowly he grew, and he began getting better, learning to feel empathy and compassion here and there, trust was still an issue and love was non-existent. That is until you came into the picture.

You fell into his life out of the blue- hurt, bleeding, and begging for help- and yet your very existence continued to be so kind and gentle, even after you learned about his past. You were always patient with him, holding his hand and working through it whether he was regressing or anxious or just plain grumpy with the way the world had changed.

But now, many weeks later, with all the work between the two of you, he was finally starting to feel human again. The visits to the markets with you now, while still cacophonous were no longer a dreaded ordeal. The nights in with you, where you laid in his strong embrace, no longer terrified him the way they used to. The way his heart fluttered when you said his name… had him beginning to understand what all those books and movies meant by “love”.

You laid out on the couch, your back propped up against the arm as Bucky laid over you, his head resting comfortably on your chest. A song you knew from somewhere and sometime played over the radio as you hummed along, carefully peeling clementines and laying the peels in a little pile on his back. His fingers traced little shapes along your side idly, his mind lost in the calm sea of your voice.

You two had never said those three words to each other, nor ever talked about defining exactly what it is you had, but that was fine for you. You didn’t need words to know that what you two had was good.

In a quiet testament of love, you handed him a peeled wedge before popping the next one in your mouth. Your soft kiss lingered on his head as you breathed in his worn leather scent and he let out a contented sigh. “Good day, Buck?” You asked, using the nickname he told you about as you two had grown closer. You handed him another wedge as the song on the radio changed, something you didn’t recognize this time.

“You know I prefer our lazy days, Doll”, His words came with a light laugh that you found yourself yearning for. Something in his shoulders popped as he stretched out, propping himself up on his elbows and causing the peels to only roll further down his back.

“Wait..!” you laughed as you desperately tried to catch them all, “you're cleaning all that spindly white shit out of the carpet if you get any of those peels on the floor, Mister!” you threatened with a wide smile, reflecting that which you saw on your beloved’s face.

“Such harsh threats..!” he teased as his grinning face came in just centimeters from yours, noses brushing together in tender affection. “Surely you wouldn’t subject a sweet old man to such punishment, would you?”

You had to hold yourself back from snorting in laughter at that one, “You are a fossil and a menace, James Barnes.” You mumbled against his lips, stealing a few light-hearted kisses in a row. You tossed what peels you could capture on the table and finally brought your hand up to hold his cheek, your thumb caressing his bottom lip.

“How’s your leg healing up?’ He asked, pressing a trail of gentle kisses from your thumb to your palm to your wrist.

You had healed well over the well in the last couple of weeks, much of which you attributed to Bucky’s willingness to carry you wherever you needed to go. “It’s all healed over,” you said with a small grin as you watched his eyes flutter closed, reveling in the moment you shared. “Still sore though, I think I need to get used to using it again. Speaking of, I’ve gotta stretch it out….” you patted his back to get him moving and carefully rose to your feet to stretch out your stiff leg.

“Yeah, yeah, I know when I’m being brushed off. I’ve gotta take a shower anyways.” he fake huffed, stealing another kiss from you before making his way off to towards the bathroom.

You walked the stiffness off by roaming around the small apartment, letting your thoughts drift as the static of the running shower filled the background. At first, it started innocently, thoughts of what you’d have for dinner that night, or what still needed to be done around the apartment. However, no matter how innocently it started you found your thoughts turning to what lay beyond the bathroom door.

Your beloved super soldier glistening under the shower's intense stream, the shine emphasizing the way his muscles flexed beneath his skin as he moved. You two had never taken your relationship to a sexual level, Bucky being too worried about hurting you if he got overly excited. You had always yearned and hoped for more, but you knew better than to press him any further.

But just because Bucky had hesitations didn’t mean your mind couldn’t linger.

With quick and little thought, you flopped back on your shared bed, shimmying your bottoms down until you could easily slip your fingers into your arousal.

Bucky had told you about the effects of being a super soldier, advanced smell, heightened hearing- but he struggled to fully convey the extent to which he could sense the world around him. The shower however was the one place, apart from you, where his mind could almost completely quiet- the far world being drowned out by the pattering of the water.

Despite his clouded ears, he still caught the gasp you let out, matched with the racing of your heart, and it instantly had him on edge for whatever threat dared to harm you. His hand just reached the shower handle when your next noise left him absolutely frozen.

“James…” you gasped out, breathy and needy and wanting. “Oh, James…” you mewled with such reverence, as if only he could bring you salvation- all of which shot immediately to his growing erection.

He pulled his hand back from the shower knob as he heard his name fall from your lips once again. Gripping his erection, his strokes were slow and languid to start, hips already bucking in response as it had been an unthinkable time since he had last touched himself like this.

Your breath hitched and shuddered as you began to rub quicker circles over your clit, your desperation for release growing with each passing stroke. “Fuck- Please, Buck. I need you…” you whispered into the open air, the pleasant pressure beginning to build up across your body as you rubbed faster and faster.

“Shit,” you cursed as your hands fumbled at the speed, immediately feeling the loss of that crave-able tension in your muscles you were chasing.

You thought of the endless stamina those calloused fingers must hold, what endless nights of loving they could give you, but your hands were only human and were already beginning to ache with the rest of your tensed muscles. “Please, Please let me come. I need it..” you begged him.

But your tiring hands just couldn't hold out their speed.

You huffed a defeated sigh, finally letting your hands fall away from your soaking core. “Fuck, I can’t come without you…” you whined to yourself quietly, unaware of the now quiet bathroom until the door burst open in a hurry, nearly giving you a heart attack.

“James!” You yelped, your face painted in a deep blush at the thought of getting caught. However, when your mind slowed for just a moment you realized he stood before you completely naked, still wet from the shower, and carrying an achingly red cock.

“Di-did you hear-”

“I heard everything…” he interrupted, his eyes darkened by a storm of lust and hunger that made you feel like wounded prey under a predator's gaze. He could see the way your thighs rubbed against each other as he stalked closer, seeking the friction your fingers could no longer give.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for- oh!” you exclaimed as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed where he now kneeled.

“Want..?” was all he could get out as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts and underwear, ready to fully pull them away at the first hint of your acceptance. He could smell the slick pool that had formed between your folds beckoning him in like sweet nectar.

You nodded vigorously, your eyes locked in with those lust-darkened blues, leaving your mouth dry.

A growl erupted from his throat as your bottoms were quickly thrown off to the side, “Use your words, Doll…” he warned, his hands now running up your thighs, spreading them apart so he could fully appreciate the view.

“Yes…” you breathed, “Please, Buck. I need you…” was all you needed to say before you felt his lips kissing their way up your thighs. Your skin flowed with electricity as he bit and nipped loving bruises into your skin, marking you up and claiming you for his own. You gasped sharply as he licked a long stripe up your folds, his tongue flicking up as he reached your clit.

Firm hands gripped your thighs as he started slow, enjoying the various noises you made as he let his tongue explore you. Your toes curled and uncurled and your hands found their way back to his hair as he teased you with more. “Rougher, Buck. I need you rougher…” you pleaded

And so he obliged, diving in like a desperate man as he eagerly lapped up your juices. You pulled on his long hair as he worried your sensitive clit, sucking and swirling it about his mouth as two of his fingers slipped in to fill you up so well.

“Buck... I- I don’t think I can hold on…” your whines played like music in his ears, himself the dedicated composer. A third finger slipped in, stretching you out just a little too far and radiating a pleasurable pain as his fingers curled inside of you, searching for that perfect spot.

A heavy moan rattled from his chest up his throat and into your clit, further encouraging your climax as his fingers pressed firmly against the sweet spongy spot inside of you. A yell tore itself from your throat, starting as something of blatant pleasure, but quickly turned into pure pain.

You knew it was an accident, but as his metal hand clamped down around your thigh- directly over your healing wound you couldn’t hold in the pain that ripped through your leg.

Immediately your hands came to your mouth, attempting to pull the scream back into your lungs to no avail. Bucky’s eyes had already widened, fear creeping into those darling blues as he rushed to pull back.

“No, No- Bucky it’s okay!!” You urged as you sat up to take his hand.

“I knew this was a bad idea…I knew I'd hurt you.” his quiet voice mumbled as his hand reeled away from yours. His motions were swift as he stood and began pulling on clothes, his movements both decisive and rushed. But your heart truly broke when you saw him beginning to get his things together.

“Buck, wait- what are you doing?” you came over to take his arm, but he only ignored your questions. “Bucky please talk to me.” some clothes, a gun, and other essentials all got furiously stuffed in a go-bag, even a shirt or two of yours ended up getting taken in the flurry.

Tears sprung in your eyes as you watched him, “James, Please stop…” you begged as he continued to move quietly about the apartment, evading your touches as you tried to reel him back into his senses. “It was an accident, I know that. We just both got caught up-” you added as he pulled on a jacket and finally headed to the door.

The welling tears finally fell as you watched it happening- he was really leaving. “James!” you called one last time as the door clicked shut calmly behind him. You were sure the entire building had heard you, but you didn’t have the heart to care- No, instead your heart was packed up in a backpack and intent on leaving town.

Frustration, grief, and anger all swirled in your chest, racing like the wind to see who got to your brain first. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK” You cursed loudly and winded your arm back to throw the small radio against the wall. The plastic shattered and fell into the carpet below, making you feel better for just a moment. Now the only music playing was the unbearable silence of the empty room.

You didn’t register yourself falling until your knees hit the ground, your entire body caving in on itself as your cheeks became stained with bitter tears. He had come into your life so swiftly that you had never expected him to leave the same way- with you hurt in more ways than one.

________________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @Browneyedgirl22

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aries-writingblog · 2 years

Text

National Anthem

Summary: A lazy day in the hot sun

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, innuendos, nothing but domestic bliss

AN: gif is not my own credit to original creator

Bucky grunted softly, the bolt firmly resisting any more tightening. He retreated from under the hood of the car, slipping the silver wrench from around the head of the bolt.

His forearm lifted, wiping sweat away from his brow. He was sure the neighbors were staring; He had decided to go shirtless this morning and had remained that way all day.

It had been scorching all week— today was no different. Though it seemed to break records today.

But Bucky wasn’t giving in to the smoldering summer radiation— he refused to back down.

It was his week off and, dammit, he was going to enjoy it. Hundred degree weather or no.

Besides, it gave him ample opportunity to openly stare at, and drool over, his knockout partner.

Lying on a foldout chair in their driveway, a few feet away. Sunglasses over her eyes and a book in hand while she sunned— fully slathered with sunscreen, which he volunteered to help with. Sipping margaritas that he kept a watchful eye on.

This was the type of quality time/ supportive involvement he had always looked for in those close to him. Neither spoke much, but they were together nonetheless.

The way it should be.

A loud clattering noise drew his attention back from YN and back into the present. Where he had just let the wrench slip from his fingers, meeting noisily with the pavement below.

Warmth filled his cheeks, ears alight with slight embarrassment as he leaned down to pick it back up. His only hope was that she didn’t notice— please, let her have been too consumed by the book to notice.

His eyes dragged back up. The small, half smirk told him everything he needed to know.

“Gettin’ a little warm, baby?” YN asked, flicking to the next page. Fingertips tracing down the paper. “Feelin’ okay?”

Bucky hummed, quickly discarding his tools, in favor of a new activity. One of his favorites.

“Feelin’ a little lightheaded—“ He mentioned, nonchalant in strolling over to her shady perch. “Little dizzy and kinda weak.”

“Mmm.” She hummed, unamused as he stalked closer.

He knelt down beside her chair, his bare upper body practically melting over her lap. Head resting on her thighs, arms stretched across her. Eyes begging up at her— desperate for her attention.

As far as he could tell through her sunglasses, she was still focused on her book— unsurprisingly.

God, she was always such a tease.

Bucky nipped at her thigh, pressing a soothing kiss to the offended skin. Pausing to gauge a reaction before doing it again.

Still nothing.

“Don’t you care, baby? I’m clearly havin’a heatstroke.” His words intentionally slurred together— tugging at her proverbial sleeve further.

“Mhm.”

He frowned.

Well, he would just have to up his game then, wouldn’t he?

With a dramatic sigh, Bucky pushed himself from her lap, hoisting himself up. Throwing his leg over hers, caging her beneath him. Only sitting back partially, keeping most of his weight off of her body.

Her book was stationed at the perfect height for him to wriggle his head underneath her arms, gaining access to her chest. Leaving a trail of faint kisses, up her sternum and collarbones. Roving her neck and nipping at her skin.

“Too bad no one is here to give me mouth to mouth.” He murmured, his breath heating her skin as his lips trailed further up.

“You’re not drowning.” She replied, flicking to the next page.

Bucky groaned, pressing more weight to her body. Trapping her against the chair. She didn’t even squirm.

“Y’don’t have to be drownin’ for a little mouth to mouth.” Bucky’s husky voice crooned against her skin— a faint taste of her sunscreen passed his lips.

He carefully, slowly, pressed his fingertips to her exposed, sun kissed skin. Within the next millisecond, YN’s attention shifted. Her hand dropped from her book and threaded into his hair.

Bucky groaned, as she tugged him backward, exposing his neck. He suppressed his smile— knowing it would only make her stop, if she saw he liked what she was doing.

“Your hands are all filthy.” Her voice was that low, gravelly tone that she took with him when he was on his last chance.

It was his favorite.

“Who said I’d be using my hands?” Bucky grinned, peeking through slanted eyes to watch her face.

Her lips quirked in the corner— he almost made her break— before they twisted into a half frown. Eyebrows angled, one arched at his implications.

“Yet somehow, your mind is filthier than your body.” She tsked, hand releasing his hair and pressing a hand to his face. Pushing him away.

As her fingertips dragged out of his chestnut locks, they pulled strands loose. Mussing his perfectly styled bun, that she had teased him for earlier.

Bucky scowled playfully against her palm, the light tickle of hair brushing his forehead.

“Cmon, baby, don’t act surprised.” He mumbled, using the opportunity to grasp her wrist, pressing feather light kisses across her skin there, as well.

“Barnes, I’m giving you five seconds before I lay you out on this fuckin’ driveway, in front of the whole neighborhood.”

He groaned, eyes flickering closed before glancing back up, through dark lashes. His mouth reluctantly retracting from his previous activities.

“At least charge ‘em for the show, sweetheart.” He suggested. YN snorted, finally breaking her frosty exterior, replacing her palm against his cheek to push him away. “Alright, alright. Can’t even give a beautiful girl a kiss anymore without her gettin’ all physical. And not even in the good way.”

He pushed himself away and onto his feet, stretching his arms above his head with a quiet groan. Hoping he could catch her attention with a strategic flex.

“Damn right.” She grinned broadly, pushing her glasses up from her nose to rest on top of her head. Her hand scooped up the empty glass sitting on the driveway beside her and extended it to him.

Bucky shook his head distastefully, reaching up to snag the hair tie from his tangled locks. He whipped his head over, ignoring her snickering laughter as he smoothed all his hair back into place, tying it off before he reached out for her glass.

“You want another margarita?” He asked, slipping the lime from the rim of the glass and popping it into his own mouth. A dribble of juice trailing through his stubble, down his chin.

“That would be wonderful.” YN accepted, shamelessly following the sticky trail with her eyes. Plopping the rind into the glass, he chased the droplet with his tongue. Interested in teasing her more than anything else.

“Five minutes, then I’ll want that kiss as payment.” He demanded, extending the glass as he walked backward. Toward the garage door.

YN smiled softly, her head leaning back until it collided with the headrest behind her. She watched, decently amused as he winked and spun around.

“Only if you wash your hands, you miscreant.” She called, eyes roaming from his thick, sweat shined shoulders, down his waist and hips, calves exposed by his shorts. Muscular arms swinging as he walked.

“No promises.”

She scoffed to herself, the door slamming closed. Reverberating the walls of the garage. He was still becoming acquainted with his new arm, he had broken several items in the home, pressed bruises into her wrist and thigh (by accident), and he still hadn’t learned that he couldn’t slam the door.

But he was adjusting. It was taking time. And while Bucky had thinning patience with the limb, YN was happy to distract him enough to forget his struggles. To cool his head enough to make him reset.

It wasn’t long before Bucky returned— the door closing much softer than before— and the content smile on his face was the first thing she saw.

Almost involuntarily, her lips curled into the same shape. A mirrored mimicry of the man striding toward her.

He slowed to a stop at her side, head dipping and his arm sweeping forward with a flourish— presenting the glass to her.

“Your liquor, madam.” He purred, his baritone voice smoothing along her senses. Soft eyes peeking up at her.

Her tongue swept across her bottom lip— observing the chase his eyes gave to follow It’s movement. Accepting the glass, she put it down beside her chair, reaching up to take his, now clean, hand. Guiding him down, closer to her body.

“Thank you.” YN murmured, her palm flat to the back of his neck, tugging him down to her level.

He didn’t have time to even celebrate his prize as she pressed their mouths together. Teeth skimming his lip before sinking into the skin, soothing over it with her tongue. Then deepening the hold— tongue invading his mouth.

He sighed into the kiss, allowing her to do as she pleased, because it always ended in his favor anyways.

“Hot damn.” Bucky didn’t even wince when his voice cracked from lack of air. His tongue chased out, wetting his lower lip before they pulled into a dopey grin. “You go around payin’ for everything like that?”

YN’s head tilted back— her laugh bubbling from her chest. A smile lingered, accompanied by the faint lines around her eyes.

“Only for your services.” She promised. He grunted in response, kneeling on her chair to get close once again. YN protested with a soft whine. “It’s hot out here, Buck, I don’t want your sweaty body all over mine.”

“You say that now, you won’t say it later.” He bargained, invading her space.

“Ugh.”

YN laid back, accepting her fate. Bucky grinned triumphantly, taking the opportunity to press a lingering kiss to her lips. A few pecks to her nose, as he backed away.

“I need your help later, by the way.” He mentioned, smoothing his thumb across her cheek.

“With?”

“My hands are too big to fit into that engine block and yours can slip right in there.” When she didn’t respond, Bucky tacked on: “I’ve been on margarita duty all day.”

“I’m gonna do it, you don’t have to bribe me.” YN rolled her eyes, head tilted to take in his expression. “Though it didn’t hurt.”

“Mmh— I know.” He acknowledged. Bucky brought his other hand up, using both to cup her face gently. Thumbs pressed to the apples of her cheeks. “One more for the road.”

He leaned in, chasing the addictive taste of her kiss; Eager to feel her love again and again.

“You’re gonna be, like, six feet away from me.” YN giggled, her nose scrunching as he squeezed a bit tighter. Bucky hummed, brushing his nose against hers, foreheads pressed together.

“And even that is too many.” He whispered. Her hands came up to grasp his wrists, a quiet coo bubbling out of her throat at his words. “That’s more like it.”

With a final peck, he backed away completely, his broad smile much too giddy for her taste. YN frowned at how he had convinced her to play into his ego. Just that easily.

“Spoiled brat.” She muttered, flicking her glasses back down and picking up her book.

Bucky stopped, turning halfway back to her, cupping his ear and leaning in.

“What was that?”

“Fuck off, Barnes.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #james barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you

205 notes · View notes

likeahorribledream · 2 years

Text

ᴍɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ - DRABBLE

FIRST MISSION

REQUEST: I love literally everything you write and I was wondering for your Drabble night maybe Bucky and baby from missing piece either before or after he goes on his first solo mission as an official avenger. I was thinking maybe her running into his arms for one last goodbye before he leaves but honestly whatever you wanna write will be amazing <3

PAIRING: Beefy!Bucky x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

True to his word, Tony has kept you at the tower while he and Bruce figured out what was going on with you and your voodoo doll-like power. At the same time Bucky has been confined to the tower as well while they figured out how to make sure the triggers can’t be used to reactivate the soldat again. It allows the two of you to spend a lot of time together to heal both physically and mentally. You can mend your friendship and make sure that your new relationship starts in the best possible way.

You love each other, there’s no denying it, you just need to learn to open up completely. Something you both struggle with because of your pasts.

You get to work on it together, heal together and eventually train together. At first Tony and Bruce were absolutely against the idea of you training, even with Bucky, but they understood that you needed an outlet to let all of your emotions out and they’d rather it happened in the gym than in the outside world. You feel so lucky to be able to spend time with your best friend, now boyfriend. You definitely could use the spare time to get the hang of things before going back to “real” life.

Unfortunately for you real life comes quicker than expected and Bucky heals faster than you, meaning he gets cleared for missions while you have to stay put. It makes you mad, not because he has managed to heal completely but because it cuts your quality time with him. You’ve enjoyed being able to be just you and him, almost like a normal couple. No Avengers, no special abilities, no scarring past: just you and your best friend. You can tell that he’s disappointed to have to leave you behind when he announces that he’s going on his first solo mission.

During the long process of healing, you’ve talked more than once about a perfect world where you’d be able to go on your first mission together and now he’s going alone. He won’t even have backup and that stresses you out. Bucky is more than capable of taking care of himself but you’d feel a lot better knowing there was someone there to watch his back.

Just like when you went on your last mission, you and Bucky sleep in the same bed although he has to get up in the middle of the night to leave.

As soon as his alarm goes off, he turns it off to let you sleep but the moment he stirs and moves his arm away from his spot around your waist you blindly reach out behind you to bring his arm back around you, making him chuckle.

‘’I’m sorry baby, I gotta go.’’ He whispers before he kisses the back of your head and the top of your shoulder.

‘’No.’’ You turn around in his arms and pout.

‘’It’s only two days, it’ll go by quickly I promise.’’ He softly brushes the hair back from your face and presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘’Go back to sleep. I’ll see you soon.’’

You shake your head no. ‘’I’ll walk with you.’’ You rub your eyes and sit up in bed.

Bucky quickly gets out of bed while he has the chance and kisses the top of your head before going to his bathroom to get changed. To think not so long ago he couldn’t even stand the thought of someone touching him and now he can’t stop touching, hugging or kissing you.

He half expects to find you sound asleep by the time he gets out of the bathroom but to his surprise you’re sitting at the foot of his bed with a sweatshirt on to cover the tank top you sleep in, your usual sweats and your unlaced combat boots on. He wouldn’t say that you are awake per say but you’re not asleep either. Bucky grabs his duffle bag in one hand and opens his bedroom door with the other, guiding you outside. As soon as the door is closed, you take his free hand and squeeze it gently. You both walk in silence as you go through the halls, get in the elevator and finally make it to the front door where a car is waiting for Bucky right outside.

‘’Alright baby, give me a hug.’’ He puts down his duffle bag and opens his arms for you to snuggle into his chest for the last time until he comes back. Once you’re wrapped around his chest, he puts his arms around you and hugs you tightly while peppering kisses on the top of your head. ‘’I’m going to miss you.’’ He whispers in your hair.

‘’Me too.’’ You sigh sadly and hug him tighter.

If it was up to you or Bucky, you’d stay like this forever but sadly work awaits and he has no choice but to go.

He cups your cheeks carefully, making you look up into his eyes. ‘’Can I get a kiss?’’ He waits for you to nod before pressing his lips to yours for one of the softest kisses he has given you.

The next two days are hell for you. You can’t call or text Bucky, yet it doesn’t stop you from sitting on your bed and staring at your phone waiting for any sign of life. It’s not that you can’t live without Bucky around, you can, but the last time you were apart for a mission everything turned to hell and you’re scared it might happen again. You don’t want Bucky to get hurt in any way.

The moment F.R.I.D.A.Y. lets you know that Bucky just passed the gates, you jump out of bed and run downstairs. You don’t want to take the elevator because it’ll only slow you down. You make it downstairs and outside just as the SUV pulls up in front of the door, Bucky barely waits for the car to be completely stopped before getting out. He’s still in full gear, he didn’t want to waste any precious second to change before leaving. He barely has time to drop his bag to the ground before catching you as you throw yourself in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

He laughs and wraps his arms around you to bring you closer to his chest and hug you. ‘’Hi baby.’’ He whispers in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

‘’Are you ok?’’ You lean back in his arms to take a good look at him, one of your hands leaving the back of his neck to cup his cheek and stroke it with your thumb.

‘’I am now.’’ He grins and kisses you before you have time to say anything else.

The last two days have been hell for him too. He has come to the conclusion that he is still touch starved like he used to be before meeting you and that he’ll never not be touch starved when it comes to you. Whenever he’s apart from you, Bucky really does feel like he has a missing piece but as long as he’s with you he’ll always be whole.

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imtryingmyfuckingbe · 2 years

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The Truth Is: I’m a Liar

The Truth is: I’m a Liar

Word Count: 29,352

Bucky x Mom!Reader

What happens when Y/N’s past come back to haunt in the form a gnarled man thought dead in a fire? How does she reconcile the person she was Before and the person she is Now-- a single mother suburbanite if one asks her neighbors. She left her life of reckless abandon in the past, alongside her family and the love of her life. Now, she needs their help to protect her daughter and stop the man they should’ve stopped five years ago. How will she deal with seeing her old flame, a love that survived the distance and the years?

I suck a writing summaries but I’m a decent writer in general, so enjoy lol

I kept details on the reader vague as to avoid too much personalization. As with Hang Loose the character is strong, but I do not mention physical features. That includes hair; I do not mention her hair at all so she can be bald or have it down to her ass, it’s up to you. There’s some cussing. No mentions of religion or time of year, except that it’s spring, so I don’t mention holidays.

If anything pulls you out of it or makes it unreadable through a filter of your life, lemme know! I love you and thank you for reading. I wrote this in like a week, and google docs is my editor, so we all know what that means.

Without further ado:

The Truth is: I'm a Liar

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buckyalpine · 7 months

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CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)

Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering.

Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard.

You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting.

“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-

“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?”

“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off.

“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark.

Which was a mess in itself.

You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour.

“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now.

You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more.

“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair.

“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you.

“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.

“Y/n”

You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks.

“Y/n”

Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself.

“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues.

“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day.

In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week.

Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault.

He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning.

You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness.

You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out.

“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you”

“I shouldn’t have messed u-

“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips.

“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.

“What did you miss”

“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?”

“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch.

You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips.

“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off.

“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection.

“Please what, sweets”

“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out.

“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds.

“Sir, pleasee”

“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”

He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing.

“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream”

“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait.

“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me”

Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel.

“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you.

“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again.

“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE

“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls.

“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings.

“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed.

“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand.

“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl”

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 year

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ROBBERS- J.B BARNES

Pairing: Mob Boss! Bucky x Mob Boss Wife! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: bucky and you were your own little version of bonnie and clyde, getting the most excited out of the most violent things. the two of you ruled the world- who cared about anyone else?

Warnings: SMUT. SMUTTY. gun sex/ penetration (yes, yes you read that right), daddy kink, choking, teasing, pet names, heavy praise kink, dry humping, pussy slapping, murder and violence (some gore)

“and he’s got his gun, and he’s got his suit on. she says, babe, you look so cool, you look so cool...” - robbers, the 1975

“Are you kidding me Walker?!” a low voice growled, anger laced in his voice as he smashed his fists on the table, standing up with a start.

A visible flinch was seen from the blonde, worry etched in his features as the brunette neared him, fists clenched, his target of threat chosen. “It’s not my fault sir I-”

“Oh no you don't get to go all boo-hoo on me Walker. This is one hundred percent your fault.” he hissed through clenched teeth, gripping the man's shirt hard enough to rip the top buttons as he glared down at the cowardly man.

Blood stained his white collared shirt, Bucky's hands still stained with his past client. His eyes bore holes in Walker, piercing icy blues turned dark and malicious. “We had a deal. The money was due last week. You swore on it.”

“ I know sir and I told you I'm sorr-”

Bang!

His fist hit the table hard enough to dent it, the metal adorned with a fist, ring marks appearing in the silver.

“ I don't care for your sorrys Walker.”

He threw him to the ground with force, causing him to wheeze as the breath was knocked out of him. You watched from behind the cool metal door, peeping silently through the little glass window as you soaked it all in.

It was cruel, the amount of excitement you got when you saw your husband like this. The fury that was pent up inside him was indescribable, smoke seeming to spout from out his ears as he peered down at the man. His breathing was heavy and shallow, you could see the rise and fall of his chest as his back muscles rippled from under the fabric of his rumpled shirt.

John was spewed across the cool floor, body seeming to be bent at awkward angles as he struggled to grab something unknown to you.

You had seen many men in his position before. They had learned too late, what the rules of the game were. Bucky was the king of the chessboard, and they were scattered pawns.

You- you were his queen of course.

No one had laid a finger on you, since that one night so many summers ago in the shady streets of Brownsville, before Bucky had saved you. Had taken you in, had raised you to be the strong, brave and bright woman you were today- who didnt take shit from anyone. You couldn't live without him- and you weren't ashamed to admit it. He was the only one who could bend and mold you to his bidding, and you wanted nothing more than to happily oblige him.

You watched in slow motion as John moved suddenly. Reaching in his back pocket, you saw the faint glimmer of a metal handle being drawn, the weapon about to be placed between your husband's pretty eyes.

You were faster than the man, if he could even be called that, his crimes and dirty work making him more of a cunt than a man. Faster than the speed of light you banged open the door and pulled out your nine millimeter shooting straight for the head, blood spraying everywhere as his body went limp.

Frantic eyes met yours, and visible relief washed over your husband as he realized it was you, his beautiful wife who had pulled the trigger.

“You gotta stop getting yourself into trouble baby blue eyes.” you cooed, heels clicking on the marble as you stepped over the corpse, bending down to pocket his weapon into your purse that had clattered on the floor.

“ You know me shortcake, I’m a sucker for trouble.” he smirked, pulling you closer to his body, hands brushing over your hips with a gentleness that was long gone from his body a few seconds ago.

Bucky was a mean, mean man- but never with you. No, you were his sweetheart, his shortcake, the queen that ruled Brooklyn alongside him.

His equal.

He spoiled you, truly.

“Is that why you married me?” you questioned sweetly, fingers brushing the fresh splattered blood on his jacket to bring it to your lips, tongue sucking it slowly.

He moaned at the sight, and you felt the very evident bulge that rutted against your stomach as you fussed over him. “ You’re trouble shortcake. But you're my trouble.” he grinned, fingers coming in contact to lace with yours.

You sighed in contempt at the comfort you felt with him, despite that dead corpse that lay meer inches away from your Prada heels, blood beginning to make its way over to pool near your feet.

“ Only yours Daddy.” you smiled sweetly at him, tugging him along with you over Walker's body and towards the door. You were getting needier by the second. His presence alone was enough to send you into overdrive, your body turning to mush at his slight touch.

The door shut being the two of you with a click, worry of the body already gone from your mind as you knew one of James men would take care of it.

“ Y’know you owe me new heels Daddy these will stain- oof!”

You were cut off with a strong grasp on your neck, Bucky slamming you back against the wall with slight force, making you moan. Your purse clattered to the floor, weapons rattling softly as Bucky pinned you, licking his lips with hunger.

His grip tightened slightly, rings digging into your neck as you looked up at him, eyes widening at his grin. “ I’ll buy you new ones after I fuck you in them.” he whispered in the shell of your ear, teeth tugging on it gently.

“Your mouth utters such foul language darling.” you drawled, his kisses and biting replacing where his hand once lay, hands now gripping your thighs to lift you up to his height. A wanton moan escaped your lips as he began to rut against your burning core, marks and bruises tracing down your collar and now reaching the peaks of your breasts as Bucky peered up at you, eyes wild and lust-filled.

His fingers slipped under your dress teasingly, fingers ghosting your thighs as he stroked them closer and closer to the place you needed them most. You slapped a hand over your mouth as you cried, your skin feeling like it was on fire with his touch, your juices puddling in your panties.

“Tsk tsk, none of that baby. Daddy wants to hear you.” he cooed against your skin, biting on it with a harsh tug that made your eyes widen as another moan left your lips.

“James they’ll see us-” you whined, mind turning foggy at the sensations as he pulled your thong to the side and slapped your clit harshly.

“ Let them. Barton probably wants a show. He knows he can't lay a hand on you though or I’d cut it off, that’s what makes it so fun.” he smirked, smacking your pussy again, laughing when you’d buck your hips in response.

“ What if I wanted to do that?” you smiled, emitting a low laugh from him.

“Then I guess I’d watch with a scotch in my hand shortcake.”

You giggled, but were cut off with his touch, your lips parting into an O shape as he stroked his fingers across your sensitive clit and teased your clenching walls as he grazed them along your wetness. They were snatched away as quickly as they came, and you whined impatiently at the sudden loss of contact.

“Shhh… you know I’ll give you what you want baby.” he cooed, hand reaching in his back pocket to reveal a gleaming silver handgun. You gulped audibly, the cool metal gleaming from the overhead lights.

“ Do you trust me?” he asked softly, the tenderness and love in his voice sounding like the sweetest melody you had ever heard.

“ With my life. I didn't get your name tattooed on my thigh for nothing Daddy.” you laughed, meeting his soft baby blues as he smiled gently, kissing you with passion and sweetness you were addicted to.

The kiss was soft, gentle, like doves in the wind. His kisses took you away from any negative objectives in your life, guarding and protecting you with its sweetness- like sugar. James was so adoring, so protective of you it nearly brought tears to your eyes. You were internally thankful for his presence in your life, filling up the endless void that stuck to you like a ghost.

He made you whole. And despite having a loaded weapon in his hand, he treated you like you were a porcelain doll as he neared the revolver towards your soaked cunt.

“I love you shortcake.” he whispered, slowly inching the barrel into your cunt, and you stretched around it deliciously. It chilled you to the bone, balancing out the hotness your body felt with Bucky so near.

You clenched around it tightly, walls sucking in the gun as if it was Bucky's cock. A deep moan left your lips, eyes rolling back to the whites as he allowed you to get used to the feeling in your hole.

“So pretty like this shortcake.” he groaned, beginning to rock the weapon in and out of you slowly. Your wetness dripped down the gun as he slowly pounded it into you, peppering kisses to your cheeks and neck as you cried out at the feeling.

“ Please Daddy!”

“Please what? You gonna cum shortcake? You really needed this didn't you honey?”

You nodded frantically, gripping his shoulders tightly as you felt your orgasm approaching at lightning speed. Your body was blazing, so hot hot hot as you grinded down on the gun, needing more.

The adrenaline running through your body left you breathless, and you couldn't tell if you were turned on by the fact someone could turn the corner and see this at any second, or if it was the fact your husband was quite literally fucking you with a loaded weapon.

“Daddy I’m gonna cum-” you shivered, body shaking and trembling at the overload of stimulation you were receiving.

“ Look at me when you cum shortcake. You look so perfect and pretty when you do.” he cooed gently, nipping at your earlobe.

That did it for you. Cumming with a scream of his name, your juices soaked the revolver and sprayed over his hand, making your mind go blank. You couldn't think, couldn't feel as you stood floating on a cloud, one of pure rapture.

Bucky was talking, but you felt as if you were swimming underwater, ears ringing and muffled. He stoked your body with his hands, kissing you all over as you came back to reality, legs shaking and toes curled.

“ You back with me honey?” he smiled, bringing the gun up to his mouth to lick your juices clean off it. You moaned at the sight, making him chuckle as he pocketed the gun.

“ Thank you Daddy.”

“ Anything for you shortcake. Now you wanted new shoes now hmm?”

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thevillainswhore · 5 months

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New Tricks

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead

What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular.

Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.

Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne

Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗

These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️

New Tricks Masterlist

I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door.

“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time, when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.

Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck.

The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again.

Excellent, you inwardly sigh.

“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level. “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.”

Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck. Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows.

Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”

His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?”

No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind.

“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.”

The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes.

“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.”

You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation.

Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic.

“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?”

Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–”

You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.

Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”

Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning.

“What the shit–“

The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?”

In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!”

Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.”

The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”

“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.

The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all.

And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?”

Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids.

“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”

Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed.

“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.”

It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone.

You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?”

You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“

“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over.

Had he been listening that whole time?

Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky may have made was a burden you did not want to bear, and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”

Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.”

The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”

His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.

With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.

“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”

The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”

Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump.

You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose. “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”

With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off.

Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips.

Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door.

With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”

Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.

Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”

He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”

You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.

“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?”

The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”

You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.”

Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf.

The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?”

“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”

You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”

“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom.

Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”

“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you.

A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.

The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence.

Though, it is short lived.

Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand.

A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works.

“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off.

You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before…

“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”

A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious.

His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you.

“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”

The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats.

Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?”

You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”

The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet.

Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.

“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”

“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.

Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company.

This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence.

Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone.

“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content.

“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”

“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets.

“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.

The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.

“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.

Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.

That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself.

“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?”

You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV.

“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.”

The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.”

Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.”

Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”

“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.”

You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”

Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it.

Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”

Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”

“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!”

He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?”

“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.

“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”

His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”

Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night.

There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus.

Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”

Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing.

“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”

“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”

“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”

A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”

“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.”

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.”

His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face.

Okay, you think privately, so what?

Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt.

If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”

“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”

Now that catches you off guard.

Bucky… is a virgin?

Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match.

Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression.

“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”

No other words come to mind.

When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts.

You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully.

The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him.

Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession.

It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands, and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty.

From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer.

Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past. And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket.

What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?

To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs.

Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees.

“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.

The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical.

You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”

“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.”

“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting.

You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”

He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“

“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”

“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.

“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”

You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.

“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”

“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through.

Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek.

This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance.

You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.

He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”

“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap.

That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth.

There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves.

Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face.

“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.

There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek.

“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.

Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”

The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes.

Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.

“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session.

Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.

“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.

You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.

“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension.

A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time.

Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.

The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close.

But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard.

The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly.

Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before.

You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another.

It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you.

And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–”

To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.

Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries.

You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.

The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss.

You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move.

Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous.

It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”

Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”

Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”

Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.

“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.”

You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin.

The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet.

The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.

Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.

“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”

“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”

You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”

The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn.

“Wha– Fuck!”

You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it.

The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.

Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release.

You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle.

Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.

Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck.

You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently.

“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”

Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him.

You can’t have that, though.

Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go.

It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in.

You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?”

Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.”

“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.

You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.”

The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”

Something snaps within him.

The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure.

To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop.

“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”

“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!”

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed.

“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”

The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat.

The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”

Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness.

After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”

“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material.

Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”

“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.

The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”

Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”

“But–” Bucky tries.

“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”

His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”

“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”

The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces.

It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”

You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands.

And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair.

You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.

“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.”

You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only–

“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala.

“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”

But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?”

That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes.

You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”

Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away.

With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”

The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky.

“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”

“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”

You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”

The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall. “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”

A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive.

“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.”

That meant only one person was responsible.

Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.

Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night.

I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake.

Love ya squirt,

Your big bro.

“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.

P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x

Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again.

“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”

Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain.

Part Two, Part Three

5K notes · View notes

incorrectmarvelquotesss · 6 months

Text

— abience —

Warnings: fluff, angst, self-loathing!Bucky, mentions of PTSD, light mentions of racism

Summary: His head wasn’t clear and you were just in the way of his anger. || Soulmates AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: ~6k

A/N: This took too much time to edit and I’m pretty sure there’s still some mistakes. Anyway, it’s almost my birthday which means I want to do something for it here. Let me know if you guys want a drabble day or something like that. Enjoy!

*the strong urge to avoid someone or something*

Bucky grabbed a pen and looked around for a paper, telling Tony to calm down over the phone. When he finally gave up on finding a piece of paper, he opted to switch hands and scribble the address down on his right arm. He mentally thought that he should be happy for being ambidextrous even though it was Hydra’s doing, but Tony’s voice made Bucky tune back into reality before he could get too lost in his head.

“That’s the restaurant and remember to wear something casual,” Tony started, ranting about Morgan’s birthday dinner party. Gone was the Tony Stark that wanted every magazine to know his whereabouts and have overly sized parties. Now he would rather spend time in a diner that Steve had taken Morgan to, which she absolutely adored, and only have his family there.

Him and Pepper had the life that Bucky had wanted. He knew that they were soulmates, hearing about the time when Pepper had written a time and place on her forearm to meet with a client. Tony’s forearm had displayed the exact writing—and he claims to have recognized the handwriting—and decided to drop by the place where he pulled Pepper’s sleeve up and finally found his soulmate. They had their ups and downs, but they complemented each other and brought out the best in each other.

Bucky figured that that was what soulmates did. Complement each other. Brought out the best in each other. Complete each other. Help when one didn’t help themselves. He sometimes couldn’t help but wish he knew his soulmate, but he had decided it was better if he didn’t meet them. The Winter Soldier was still infamous for his actions, no matter how many times Bucky joined the Avengers for a mission to save the world—or universe. The lingering stares and whispered hatred followed him and he was sure it would eventually get too much for his soulmate.

Unless it was Natasha, he guessed, having been through something similar, Though she had found her soulmate a while before Bucky showed up. Steve had always thought that Peggy was his only soulmate in existence, but fate had proved him wrong when he had seen Natasha’s perfect cursive cross his arm as she drew out the words she wanted to get tattooed one day. Bucky had realized that they were a perfect match in more than some ways. The two were always coordinated and in sync, so it didn’t phase anyone on the team.

“I know,” Bucky huffed out, head snapping up as the doorbell echoed throughout his apartment. He looked at the clock and knew that there was only one person who could be here this late at night—it was only nine, but no one showed up that late. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tony.”

“Yeah, alright, Buckaroo. And don’t forget to wear your happy face,” Tony said before hanging up on him. Not unusual for the genius, billionaire, philanthropist. Bucky had long gotten used to it, knowing he hung up on everyone, except Pepper and Morgan. Bucky couldn’t even resent him for that—Bucky would never dare hang up on Pepper or Morgan.

The doorbell chimed again and Bucky rolled his eyes, placing his phone on the island of his kitchen and walking towards the main entrance. He paused for a second when he caught the scent of cinnamon, hand frozen on the doorknob. It reminded him of a sweeter time, a bittersweet memory surfacing with hazy edges and leaving the lingering taste of a velvety texture in his mouth.

He twisted the door open.

“Hey, Bucky!” Sam said, barging in and toeing off his shoes without wasting a second for an invitation. He had gotten used to that ever since Sam decided to move into the apartment across from him. Even though he used to do it before moving into the building. It was just more prominent now to Bucky, the barging in with late night leftovers or pastries and sweets from the bakery down the street. The one where that sweet woman, who Sam didn’t shut up about ever, worked.

“What do you want?” That was his regular greeting and Sam accepted it.

“Well, you know that bakery down the street?”

“No, I don’t.”

Sam ignored him and said, “That girl I told you about tried out this new recipe with cinnamon buns and wanted me to try them, but being the good friend I am, I brought some for you to try too.”

“Jee, thanks,” Bucky drawled out as Sam placed the buns into the two plates Bucky owned. He had only one before, but Sam bought one for himself and left it here for things like these.

There was a reason why he never invited people over.

The living room had one two-seater with a small side table that was usually stacked with books from a shop he had found tucked between a few larger buildings. The carpet was actually a blanket that Bucky had bought a few years ago and often used it as a mattress. The two bedrooms were practically empty, a bed and a night table the only two things in each. Bucky used neither rooms nor the dining room, hence why there was no table in there. The two stools were pulled up against the island in the kitchen where Bucky, and Sam occasionally, ate any meal.

“Well, you are very welcome,” Sam sassed, chuckling to himself as Bucky’s broody mood lightened slightly at the familiar sight of cinnamon buns. “The woman said that she finally has a lead on her soulmate, y’know?

“That’s good for her,” Bucky said, not exactly in the mood for more soulmate bullshit. His left arm was permanently gone from existence so if his soulmate was right-handed, the chances of finding her decreased immensely. So there was more that Hydra took from him then. If he focused on it, he could probably find about a gazillion things they had taken from him. His sanity being the first one. Control, emotions, soulmate, time, name, the list could go on and on.

Sam bit into a bun and groaned, falling into the stool and smacking the island with his hand twice. Bucky bit back an insult, feeling like Sam was being a bit more dramatic than usual for something so small. He was used to the sounds and compliments that left his mouth after a bite, but the actions were new. And Bucky could say they were stupid and unnecessary, but held back because the previous pastries had been good too.

“Good sweetness, this is amazing,” Sam moaned, making Bucky pick up his own cinnamon bun. He eyed it with distaste, but bit into it anyway.

He felt his heart warm as the heat of the bun hit his tongue. Then the flavours flooded his mouth, bursting through the dough and making him inhale sharply. The sweet taste of cinnamon made him lick his lips. The light pinch of strawberry made his mouth water, desperate to take another bite and another. He barely registered when he had taken the second bite, the flavour of the pastry making him feel fuzzy and cozy. Comfortable.

“So,” Sam stressed out, his eyes already telling Bucky that he was about to tease him, “how is it?”

“It’s good,” Bucky grunted, putting the bun back on the plate while his face burned. He averted his eyes from Sam, wiping his fingers against his thigh and then flicking the dust off of his sweatpants. He didn’t know what it was about the bun, but it made him flustered. Nervous. Unsettled. There was a memory attached to cinnamon, that much he had clicked together. He just had a gut-sinking feeling that the memory was connected to his mother.

His mother had already been a sore topic of discussion. He could remember his sisters just fine, Rebecca being the most occurring between her, Eleanor, and Mary. Other than Rebecca, the three of them had bright steel-blue eyes. Rebecca had inherited his mother’s brown eyes, but she looked like the feminine version of Bucky. He remembered the countless times someone had pointed it out, saying that they could have been twins if Rebecca was a bit older. His father had always laughed and said it was in his strong genes that the two of them looked like him.

Steve had tried to talk about his mother—the one he barely even recognized—but Bucky had somehow managed to ignore all of those conversations. Steve, retired with Natasha by his side, had yet to finish a whole sentence about Winifred Barnes in front of Bucky.

“I was wondering,” Sam started, giving Bucky a glare when he sighed, “if you were going to Morgan’s birthday party?”

“I am,” Bucky replied, lifting up his bun and eyeing it, pondering on whether he wanted to indulge in the memory or not. If he took a bite and remembered what made cinnamon so special to him, maybe he would finally remember the brown eyes he adored and the warm arms that welcomed him home everyday after school.

“Great! We’re going together then,” Sam stated and stuffed the last piece into his mouth. Bucky cringed inwardly and shook his head.

“No.” Bucky put his bun down and Sam eyed it.

“Yur nof guha eaf faf?” Sam pointed at the bun, voice muffled, but gestures telling Bucky exactly what he was asking. Bucky rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively, watching Sam jump in his stool slightly before grabbing the piece from his plate. Sam swallowed down the piece that was in his mouth and added, “We’re so going together tomorrow. My car’s at the shop.”

“Why?” That was the one question Bucky ever asked. He found it easier to ask that and have the other person continue to talk than small talk. Idle chit-chats that he could barely remember were the worst and his biggest nightmare at this point.

“Well, the engine started making this noise,” Sam began, gesturing with his hands and elaborating on the noises more than Bucky wanted. Bucky’s shoulders started to relax as he realized he was in for a long night.

———

Sunlight glared at him through the blinds, waking him from the dreamless sleep he was finally getting. Bucky begrudgingly rolled out of his makeshift bed, cursing Sam for staying until midnight watching Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs after Bucky let it slip that he took his sister to go watch it. He rushed down the steps of his apartment building, still shrugging on his damn flannel and biting into his plum as he turned the corner. He finished it off by the time he had crossed the street, sending up a hand to a car that had stopped for him.

His shoulder knocked into someone as he entered the bakery, desperate to have something in his stomach before he took the subway into Manhattan. He muttered out an apology—the person had already disappeared—and continued his venture into the bakery Sam always talked about. Bucky had never been inside nor had he realized that it was a cafe/bakery. The scent of coffee and pastries made him pause for a second before he stepped into the queue. Ordering his coffee and paying for it, he found himself looking around the place.

It was made to look vintage, that much was obvious. The walls were a cool brown colour with beige accents creating swirly patterns around the whole cafe. The tables and stools lined up on the walls were another shade of brown that matched the round tables in the middle of the floor. The chairs for the tables were a light cream colour that matched the ceiling and the register counter. There were pillar replicas cut to fit into the corners of the walls, ninety degrees perfectly.

Once the barista called his name and held out his coffee, he rushed forward to grab and then walked out of the bakery. Cafe. Cafe/bakery place. He turned slightly as he walked away to glance at the name; Moonstruck. That didn’t help calm the debate happening in his head. Was it a cafe or a bakery? Is it both? Is it—

“Hey, Buck!” Sam called out from behind, a cunning smile on his face. He waved a hand teasingly as he lightly jogged over, a coffee in his hands as well. “Thought you could go without me, did you?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and continued to walk away, muttering, “Don’t know what I was thinking.” He took a sip of his coffee and looked up just in time to avoid a collision with a cyclist.

“I’m gonna ignore that and—” Sam paused to sip his coffee and gave the cyclist a glare— “tell you flannels are a good look on you.”

Bucky glanced down at his attire and shrugged dismissively. His black pants, black shirt, and red flannel were nothing to compliment. He found them all too casual and, quite frankly, the only decent pair of clothing he had for this outing. He didn’t say anything to humour Sam, instead taking another few sips of his coffee. It was good, very well-made, but that was another thing Bucky kept to himself.

“Oh! You got that coffee from Moonstruck, didn’t ya? I’d recognize that logo from a mile away,” Sam started, wiggling his eyebrows when Bucky sent him a glare. They reached the station, taking the steps down and scanning their cards to get in. Sam had, thankfully, kept his mouth closed for the time they waited for the subway to arrive, sipping his coffee and sending smiles at a particular woman who kept eyeing him with a smirk.

They both had to stand in the subway; apparently Saturdays in the middle of fall meant rush hour in the early afternoons. Bucky wondered briefly if he had rode in the subway back in the 40s. He knew there were working subways in New York then, but he doubted he ever took it. If he had to compare the money his parents had back then, he was sure they would be living as luxurious as Tony was now. They had a car and some foods that others would have had to work for months straight for.

As the subway started nearing the stop they were due to get off at, Sam started getting jittery.

“Do you think Steve’s gonna be there?” He asked, eyes darting to Bucky as he leaned against a divider. After Steve had given the mantle over to Sam, Sam had been doing nothing but trying. His view on the idealistic Captain America was different from what Steve’s was. He wanted Captain America to not just represent the country and the people in it, but also shed light on what America really was. It wasn’t the best country in the world, nor was everyone living in it the best people. Sam wanted to put that out to the world.

Bucky and Steve could respect him for it. Sam thought that they wouldn’t, simply because they didn’t share the same life experiences as him. They didn’t have police pulling up behind them already on high alert, just based on the colour of their skin. They didn’t have to endure the stares and subtle gestures of moving away or moving something away from them. Sam had explained what he saw Captain America to be with hesitancy, seemingly fully expecting the two to laugh in his face or tell him that it was wrong. But they had nodded solemnly and agreed, knowing that they would never know the struggles but could at least try to understand and help in any given way.

“Probably,” Bucky replied after a moment of thinking, shrugging. His one-word answer wasn’t enough for Sam.

“You think he watches the news? They’ve been dragging my name through the dirt with last week’s disaster,” he continued, grabbing the rail as the subway stopped to let passengers down at the stop. Last week’s disaster meant the tabloid of Sam talking to Zemo before the Wakandans took him in. He had watched a news channel dissect the picture, drawing to the stupidly hilarious conclusion that Sam had links to Hydra. The mere idea was laughable.

“Don’t worry,” was all Bucky grumbled out, stepping between a few people as they made their way to the doors. It wasn’t the best thing to say because Sam let out a frustrated sigh and had an irritated expression on his face. Bucky knew he should have had more things to say, to comfort Sam, but words were complicated. Bucky could never find the right ones and he found himself cutting his sentence down to just a few words.

The speakers went off with an automated voice telling them to stay clear of the door just before a ding and the doors slid open. Sam and Bucky slipped out of the subway, moving past the crowd that waited to get on and jogged up the stairs out to Manhattan. The stench in the air never failed to make Bucky’s throat itch for a few minutes. It was better when they passed the rush of the tourists and traffic in central Manhattan and made their way towards where the diner was nestled. Sam decided against saying anything for the time being and Bucky was thankful.

———

“Ay! Buckaroo and Cappie made it!” Tony announced, clapping Sam on the back as Sam glared at him. Tony kept his grin on his face, making it bigger for the sheer amusement of seeing Sam get all riled up at the nickname. Bucky had long accepted his, hearing it from Morgan a few times, said just a hair wrong and decided it was cute.

“Buckaroo!” Morgan shouted at the top of her lungs and ran straight towards Bucky, launching herself at him. Bucky, being an ex-assassin and having been greeted like this since the third time, let a smile grace his lips as he extended his arms just in time to catch her mid-jump.

“Hey, Mags.” He felt her arms wrap around his neck and arms around his middle as he held her close to his body, giving her a long hug before squeezing her tightly and letting her go. She jumped in his arms, bright eyes looking right at him with an excitement he hadn’t seen before.

“Did you write the address on your arm?” She asked, eyes widening as she whipped her head to look over her shoulder before turning back to look at him, hair slapping his cheek lightly each time. Bucky cocked an eyebrow and nodded slowly. She grinned wider, if that was possible with her small cheeks and face, and said, “Your soulmate’s here!”

Bucky’s heart dropped, feeling the blood drain out of his face and head towards his ears, thumping loudly. His face must have been somewhere between shock and horror, but Morgan mistook his expression for surprise and wriggled in his arms to be put down. She darted towards the back of the diner, towards his soulmate, shouting something at him along the lines of come on, buckaroo, she’s waiting. Bucky snapped out of his initial shock, but it turned into panic. Full blown panic. His head was spinning with worry so he did the only thing he could do.

Run.

Fight or flight, and he, like a coward, took the latter. He spun around on his heels, knocking his shoulder against Sam as he exited the door they had just entered. His chest rose and fell with each laboured breath he took, a shiver licking up his spine as he felt the cold seep into his bones. It was deeply embedded, drawing out a shudder from him as he fell forward, one hand on the wall as he tried to catch his breath. His chest felt heavy, suffocating him from the inside, squeezing his ribs and never letting go. Breathing was getting harder and it felt better not breathing.

“Bucky?” Steve’s hand was on his shoulder, squeezing tightly to let him know that he was here. Bucky wanted to throw his hand off and tackle him to the ground, but all too soon, his mind cleared, breathing got easier, and his panic subdued to calmness. His eyes darted up, meeting yours with a sharp gasp.

“Why?” He asked, more harsh than he wanted to. He knew that soulmate’s could feel and transfer feelings, with so much more he had to discover, but he didn’t want you to do it. He was fine, suppressing his feelings from you for so long and pushing yours away from him, so why did you do it?

“I—I could feel it,” you said, almost hesitantly as if you knew he was trying to hide it. Sam, who Bucky hadn’t noticed, spoke up from beside you.

“This is bakery girl, man! You’ve had so much of her food to taste,” Sam started, gesturing to you with a sweep of his hands. “Y’know she’s a keeper when her food tastes that good.” Bucky’s eyes felt tighter as he looked at you, sensing the change in your mood the second he did. He didn’t even feel the sick and twisted smile on his face until he went to speak.

“So? What difference does that make? I. Don’t. Want. It,” he seethed out, grin fading out when he saw the tears in your eyes. The betrayal and hurt he felt at that moment was more painful than any bullets he had taken. Utter bullshit. The second a sob broke through your lips and you turned away, a piece of him broke. He was sure what it was—his arm, leg, nose, or whatever—but something broke. It left a stinging pain in his chest.

“What the fuck, Bucky?” Steve hissed, grabbing and pulling him to turn by his shoulder. Steve’s anger radiated off of him in waves, making Sam slip back inside with a single glance towards your figure in the distance. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Bucky muttered, not even meeting Steve’s eyes. He knew he screwed up, fucked up big time, but his mind was made. He was clear before with his thoughts about soulmates and the sudden appearance of his, of you, made him freak out. He wasn’t ready. He just wasn’t.

“Well, you better find the fuck out before I fuck up some else shit of yours, James,” Steve retorted with a slip of desperation.

“Get off of it, Steven,” Bucky tried, finally raising his eyes to meet his. Steve’s nostrils flared in anger, face turning the lightest shade of red as he grabbed Bucky by the shoulders and shook him.

“You better get your fucking act together, Barnes. That woman didn’t deserve being called it or your shit. Your anger is displaced; you’re mad at yourself, not her. You’re a fucking asshole when you don’t think, y’know that?” Steve finished ranting and glanced at the door to the diner. “Now, we’re gonna go in there and act like you didn’t just fuck up and then, later today, you’re gonna go apologize to her. And you make sure you do that properly. The second she stepped in here and realized who she might potentially be soulmates with, she baked a whole ass cake for Morgan. In blueberry flavour because Morgan had told her so when buying her slushie. She’s nice and didn’t even bat an eye when Wade showed up.”

“Hey,” Tony’s voice came, head peeking out of the door. His eyebrows furrowed as he took a quick sweep of the scene before sighing and stepping outside. “Go inside, Old Cap.” Steve scowled at the name, muttering something about the team being a pain in the ass before heading in with a shared glance with Bucky. Tony replaced Steve’s spot and held his hands up in mock surrender with a smirk on his face. Bucky started scowling at him.

“Look,” Tony started, putting his hands down and wiping the smirk off his face, “I don’t know what just happened, but I’ve got some clue with the way you ran out here like your ass was on fire. I don’t know what Steve said to you, but I’m not here to tell you what to do with your life. Though, you do need to get a life. Jokes aside, I felt the same way about soulmates as you do.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, scowl falling and a non-amused expression on his face, doubting that they thought the same way about soulmates. Tony rolled his eyes and huffed out an annoyed breath.

“Fine, not the exact same way, but similar. I—I was a fuck up. I screwed every woman who threw themselves at me and the ones who didn’t, I tried my best to break down to the point they’d want to throw themselves at me. I—Pepper never cared much about that side of me. But she saw and saw past it. When I found out she was my soulmate, her handwriting gave her away. But I didn’t want it to be her. I couldn’t have had it be her, because she knew everything about me, from the drinking to the girls to my traumatic childhood. But—but she looked past it. She didn’t hate me or throw me out of her life. She gave me a chance.”

Tony looked at him expectantly, visibly awaiting an answer.

“What?” Bucky gruffed out, not seeing the point of this. He already knew that Tony was a womanizer and Pepper was a saint for putting up with him. The past few years had changed Tony in a good way and they all had Pepper and Morgan to thank.

Tony huffed out another annoyed breath, narrowing his eyes slightly and looking at Bucky as if he should have known what he was trying to say.

“If Pepper can forgive me for mistreating her for years, Y/N can forgive you for whatever impulsive asshole move you made.”

“Y/N,” Bucky mumbled, liking the taste of your name on his lips.

“Listen, Bucky.” Tony hesitated after that, but nodded and continued, “I’m not usually this sentimental or emotional, but I’m gonna be for your thick head to understand. Soulmates are better together. There’s this—this aching in your bones when you're not with them and—and their scent, their presence, calms you. Pepper, she makes everything feel better too. You go find her—after the party cause Morgan likes you more than anyone else—and tell her you’re sorry.”

Bucky nodded, finally realizing that the ache in his chest was just that. The feeling of being away from you was settling into his chest, deep in his bones, and his head was feeling light. It was the distance from you that was doing that to him. He was going to apologize, no matter how many times he needed to.

He figured he had a better shot at it, knowing Pepper forgave Tony.

———

The party was still in full blast when Bucky felt he had had enough of the building ache in his stomach. The ache seemed to worsen every time he felt a twinge of hurt, knowing exactly where it was coming from. Your tears, the anguish and hurt, all of it was digging a hole in his chest deeper and deeper. The invisible knife was twisting his insides as he gave Morgan a long hug and shook Tony’s hand. Tony gave him a smirk and pushed his glasses up his nose with the middle finger with a smug expression. Bucky ignored it, dropping his hand and walking out of the diner.

He took the subway back, keeping his head low as the dull throb in his head started to grow. It was gone in a few seconds—you had cut your emotions from him once again. Every time he had felt your emotions transfer over to him, they went away in a few seconds like you were trying to keep him from feeling what you were. He had done the same to you for years, so he deserved it—that’s what he kept telling himself.

All those years, he felt your emotions through the bond, but he never dwelled on those happy feelings. At first it was because Hydra pumped him up with shit that blocked his soulmate off completely. They kept him protected from your feelings, but that didn’t stop them from making him send nasty emotions your way. The rookies would take turns making him send you all kinds of emotions through the bond, some of which he was sure he would be thoroughly ashamed of if he remembered them all.

Then it was because he felt as if he didn’t deserve to be happy. He didn’t want the happiness that seemed to radiate from you everyday, so he pushed it back harshly, letting the tiniest bit of anger seep into you. Now, it was because he couldn’t let other feelings get the best of him. He had been going on missions, back-to-back, for three months and those missions would not have been completely with a sense of sympathy. Until Steve made him take this month off as their superior, he was blocking your emotions from reaching him. He let them seep through him a few times in the past month or so, relishing in the calmness.

The subway pulled to his stop and he got out as soon as the doors opened. He ran up the stairs, the hole in his heart starting to close the closer he got to your bakery. You were there. If the lights and shuffling were something to go by at least. His heart was ready to crumble when he peeked through the window and saw a teenager working his way through the shop with a broom. But then the kitchen doors were swinging open with you walking through, a pained smile on your face. Your tears had dried up, but there was no mistaking the puffiness around your eyes and the red tinge to them.

Bucky knocked and walked in, surprised to find the door unlocked.

“Sorry, we’re—” You cut off as your eyes landed on him. You took a moment to look at him carefully, eyes narrowing in both confusion and uncertainty, before directing your voice to the teenager. “Nico, you should go home now. Your mom said you needed to be back before eight and it’s already seven.”

“Are you sure you don’t—”

You turned towards Nico with a smile, thin-lipped, but a smile nonetheless, and said, “Go before I kick you out.” Nico grinned and shrugged, but placed the broom up against the wall, a pile of dust and garbage near the end of it and pushed past Bucky with a glare.

“Don’t fuck up,” Nico whispered as he paused to grab his hoodie from the coat rack by the door. Bucky gave a mere nod, one that was barely even there, and heard the door close behind him.

The tension that lingered in the air after Nico left made Bucky shift uncomfortably. He could tell the sun was going, probably touching the horizon with its end and painting the sky in orange and pink hues. The shop was going from warm to cold. The chatters and people that had kept it lively were gone, a quiet humming and buzzing coming from the kitchen. The displays were empty of the pastries and goods that were up in the morning, warm and fresh.

“Did—Did you need something?” The slightest crack in your voice made his eyes dart back to you, unaware of when they had drifted off of you in the first place. Your hands were playing with the hem of your sweater, one on the zipper and one fiddling with the end of it. Your feet shifted on the ground, going from straight to tilted to straight again.

“I, uh, I wanted to say sorry,” Bucky started, wincing when he tasted the words on his tongue. They didn’t feel right nor were they what you deserved. After what he said and did to you—not just today, but throughout your entire life—he had to give you more. He wanted to give you more and then some. “But I don’t think that’s enough. I—I want to show you that I’m sorry. Truly. Not anything half-assed or, you know, not real. I want to make it up to you.”

He stared at you for a long second. His eyes trailed over your eyes that had widened sometime through his little ramble, going down to your lips that pressed together in a thin line, and then to your hands that were no longer fiddling but fisted up together. You lifted one to comb through your hair, exhaling a gentle breath of a laugh. Your sweater rode up on your arm, his handwriting displayed across your forearm coming into view. A small smile appeared on your lips, one that only had the tips of your lips curling upwards.

“You can start by helping me clean up,” you teased, sniffling slightly and tilting your head at him. The smile on your face slipped as you whispered, “Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” Bucky agreed quickly, head nodding fast enough to leave him feeling lightheaded. “I just—I’m a little fucked up in the head. I’m not the best man in the world and you could definitely do better than me, so much better. So if—so if you don’t want me at all, if you want someone else—”

“I wouldn’t have stayed at the diner if I didn’t know what I was getting myself into,” you interrupted, voice soft and gentle. It was soothing enough for Bucky’s shoulders to sag with relief. He hadn’t noticed the tension in his body until then. You smiled again, a little more than the last one. “I mean, ending up at a diner with the Avengers who are basically in the media's limelight all the time, I kinda know what I was getting myself into.”

“It could have been Sam,” Bucky blurted out, trying to get a reading on you.

You eyed him curiously as you answered, “Unless he has two soulmates, I’m pretty sure I knew who it could’ve been.”

“What about—”

“Bucky,” you stressed, shaking your head as a breathy laugh escaped your lips. “You can’t push me away with your self-doubt or self-loathing. You’re stuck with me.”

That’s what he was doing. Pushing you to your edge with his constant self-hating and questions that would make anyone pull out their hair. He wanted you to be the one pushing him away after a slip-up, after a mistake, and be the one hurt. He wanted you to hurt him the way he hurt you. But you were smiling at him, laughing at his nagging questions, and trying to tell him that he was stuck with you.

You’re stuck with me.

That didn’t sound too bad.

“Bucky?” You took the few steps that were between you two and left a few inches of space between your bodies as you gazed up at him. “I know you’ve got baggage—Sam talked about his mystery friend up in that apartment building. He told him a few things here and there, letting me fill in the gaps. It didn’t take long for me to put the pieces together and chalk his friend up to being you.”

Bucky clenched his jaw and looked away from you. A soft and warm hand touched his cheek lightly, hesitant fingers trailing on his jaw, before you pressed your palm into his cheek and guided him to look at you.

“I’m willing to try this, Bucky, if you are.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered between your eyes, once or twice flitting down to your lips. He could feel his chest warm and bloom with something close to adoration, resolve crumbling the longer you stared at him. His jaw unclenched under your touch and, before you could pull away from him, he curled his left hand around your wrist gently, so light that it was feather-like. He twisted his head enough to place his lips against your pulse point, lingering as he caught the scent of cinnamon.

“I want to try,” he whispered, lips tickling the inside of your wrist as you grinned. His heart thumped against his chest in a way that made his insides melt, all in a good way. Your fingers patted his cheekbone lightly, tilting your head and narrowing your eyes slightly with a glint in them.

“Then get cleaning.”

#mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #mcu x reader #marvel mcu #bucky barnes x y/n #mcu x you #mcu x y/n #avenger x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #james bucky barnes #james barnes x female reader #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #james barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier

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loving-barnes · 2 years

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FORGOTTEN BIRTHDAY - BUCKY BARNES

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female enahnced reader

Warning: bit of violence, language, nudity and mentions of sex, bit angst, but fluff

Autor’s note: This short piece of for @mannien because she was there for me when no one was and I wanted to something for her. I don’t do request but I wanted to write her something. I hope you will like it. :) I tried. I really did.

Word count: 1400+

It was all too much. It seemed lost – did they lose? Was it possible for the Avengers to lose against Hydra? Natasha was already taken back into the HQ, barely alive. Clint had to run back into the jet because his bow was broken and needed a new one. Steve and Sam were doing their best to take down the last Hydra base they found. Scott was a helpful addition. With his ability to shrink, they used him to put bombs into the centre of the building.

Bucky and Y/N were right outside, taking down any man that attacked them, trying to stop them. Both were exhausted, bruised and bleeding from minor wounds, but together, they remained strong. All they needed was a sign to leave the perimeter and run back into the jet. Somehow, it was taking way too long.

Y/N was quickly out of ammo, trying to fight with anything she had in her hands. The men were appearing out of nowhere and she was losing the battle. Bucky was preoccupied with more agents.

“Fuck,” she screamed as one man sliced her shoulder with a knife. Y/N took the knife from his hand and stabbed him right in the neck, letting him bleed to death. The cut on her shoulder was stinging. Because she was getting exhausted, she wasn’t able to use her power properly.

Her eyes found Bucky struggling to stand on his feet. He fought three men at the same time, trying to take them down as fast as possible. Y/N ran to him, hitting one of them with her knee hard into the stomach, bringing him down to the ground. It gave Bucky more space to kill those fuckers. One of them got his neck snapped with Bucky’s strong hands.

“You are bleeding,” Bucky sighed, saddened by the view. He approached Y/N and checked her from head to toes, making sure that was the only wound on her.

“I’ll be fine,” she sighed. “I just-“ she couldn’t form a sentence. It was hard to breathe. “I can’t protect you, Buck. I’m too weak.”

“Don’t worry,” his hands found her cheeks, stroking them gently. “We’ll make it through, I promise you.”

As she nodded, they were startled by the sound of loading guns. Suddenly, they were surrounded by at least fifteen men, ready to fire at the couple. Bucky’s hand gently brushed hers. Carefully, his pinkie found her pinkie, hooking them together. He heard her exhale deeply. That single gesture made her relax even in a tense situation like this. They were seconds away from sure death.

In one second, her life flashed in front of her eyes. But what she remembered from all of those memories was Bucky’s face, smiling down at her. For him, for the love they had, she would do anything – even use all of her remaining energy to protect them.

Simultaneously, as the gunfire started, her right hand shot forward with a scream, creating a beautiful ocean blue force field around them, stopping all the bullets. She won’t let them die. It was too soon.

Darkness was slowly crawling around her eyes. She couldn’t hold it any longer. Somewhere in the back, she noticed arrows penetrating the agents in front of her. The men were slowly falling down, dead. Her eyes blinked rapidly a few times as her legs gave up. There was a hand around her waist, holding her tightly as her body gave up from the exhaustion.

…

Y/N stirred in her sleep when she felt a hand gently brushing her forehead and cheek. The tough felt nice, familiar. It made her put a gentle smile on her face before she opened her eyes. As predicted, she was met with those beautiful blue orbs staring at her. Her head was resting on his thighs and she registered the dark metal interior of the jet.

“What happened?” she whispered, too tired to talk loudly.

Bucky leaned closer, his lips gently brushing against hers. “You saved us, Y/N,” he replied.

“I did?” she kinked a brow. “But, I remember Clint’s arrows…”

“Before you passed out, the force field you’ve created made a pulse that knocked out all the agents,” he explained, brushing her head with his vibranium fingers. “I’ve never seen you do anything like that.”

“Really?” tears appeared in her eyes. “I saved you?”

Bucky nodded, still having that smile on his handsome face. “I was able to take you back to the jet; just in time, the bombs were ready to be set off. It’s all done. We won.”

This was the first time in a long time she started to cry after a successful mission. No wonder – she thought it was the last time being together, alive. Bucky wrapped his hands around her body while she kept lying down. He held her tightly, peppering her forehead with kisses.

Once the jet landed, Bucky held Y/N tightly around her waist and helped her walk back into their shared room. There wasn’t a second he wouldn’t hold her tightly. As if he wanted to be sure she was still by his side, alive.

Closing the door of their room, Y/N was immediately in his embrace, kissing him deeply. Her eyes were closed as they kept exploring each other’s mouths. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, not letting him go. “I love you, Buck,” she whispered after their lips parted. “I’m so happy to get another chance to be with you.”

His hands kept working on her clothes, helping her get rid of the dirty, torn clothes. “Love you too, beautiful,” he smiled. “Let’s take a shower and then, I’ll take you to this amazing Italian place that I was meaning to take you like weeks ago.”

“Sounds lovely,” she said, making him take off the t-shirt he wore. The sight in front of her always brought her tingles, no matter how many times she saw him naked. “Just the two of us, celebrating victory and life.”

“And you,” Bucky added, unbuttoning his pants.

“Me?” he laughed.

“Did you forget?” he kinked a brow, taking her into the bathroom while they kept talking. She seemed perplexed. “Honey, it’s your birthday today.”

“Oh,” she sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I totally forgot. Wow, that’s a first. Really, it’s my birthday today? Are you sure?” she questioned.

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah,” he nodded. “No wonder you’ve forgotten. It’s been an unbelievable exhausting week.” He reached into the shower, turning on the water for them. Bucky bit his lower lip when she was standing in front of him naked.

“We should definitely use this opportunity,” she stepped into the shower and turned to him, waiting until he took off his underwear. “And enjoy the night together, without the team. If I forgot my birthday, so did the rest of the team.”

The brunet went into the shower, closing the glass door behind them. His body was met with the water and her hands resting on his chest. “Just the two of us,” he smiled at the idea. “Maybe we could get a hotel for the night?”

Her eyes sparkled at the idea. “Yeah, I would love that. Also,” she pressed a kiss where his heart was situated. “Will you wear that creamy sweater I got you a few months ago? You look so good in it.”

Bucky’s lips were on her neck, nibbling on it. “Whatever you wish, birthday girl.”

It was a long shower. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Bucky helped clean Y/N’s back and she did the same for him. If they ended up having sex, they wouldn’t be able to leave the bathroom and the bedroom at all. Both wanted to wait until they were in the city, away from everyone.

Y/N had to tame the desire to jump on him the moment she saw him standing in the middle of the room in black jeans and that damn sweater. Her breath got stuck in her throat and her heart skipped a beat. Hours ago, they almost died. Now, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. When he put on black sunglasses, she was a goner.

“Fuck,” she sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You look so sexy.”

“Do I?” he smiled at her.

Y/N nodded. “When we are in the hotel, I want you in nothing but that sweater.”

“You like it that much on me, huh?” he was amused. “Anything my birthday girl wants, she gets.”

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #Bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes one shot #James Barnes x female reader

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bucks-babe · 3 months

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Be Mean To Me

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: After a long day at work, you just want to lose all control and have your boyfriend fuck you into oblivion

Warnings: Established relationship, slight angst, fluff, smut, mean!dom!bucky, reader asks for it, they are so in love, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male receiving), ball sucking, slapping, spit kink?, degradation, humiliation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch, sugar, good girl), daddy kink, some praise, spanking, pussy slapping (like once), safe word (yellow), vaginal sex, no prep anal, Bucky has a huge dick, choking, aftercare, check-ins, crying during sex, crying after sex, soft!Bucky, no mention of Y/N, no description of reader other than being female

Word Count: 4.9k of mostly smut

A/N: This was very self indulgent. Work has been kicking my ass and I want to be taken care of. Any mistakes are my own. If I missed any warnings please let me know. @bucknastysbabe it's done! I think I should go back to therapy. But hey, smut

You feel your throat tighten as you walk up to the apartment you share with Bucky. It was one of those days that left you beaten down and wanting to curl up under your blankets and cry. You didn’t even want to go into work this morning, having to force yourself to get ready. Too many rude customers, incompetent coworkers giving you more work than you get paid to do, everything leaving you overstimulated and wanting your boyfriend.

It left a craving deep down inside of you, a want that you knew only he could quell. You just wanted to shut your brain off, have Bucky take care of you, ruin you, treat you like a whore, break you down, just to put you back together again.

You swallow the lump in your throat and unlock the front door, finding Bucky on the couch watching some random action movie that he claimed to hate. At the sight of him your body naturally relaxes and the urge to crawl onto his lap is too much to bear.

“Hey, sugar. I’ve been missing you all day. You’ll never fucking believe the video Sam sent me of Tony trying out his new thrusters! He flew rig- What’s wrong?” He perked up at the sound of the door opening, truly missing his girl. Whenever you’re around him his entire day gets better, a lightness filling his chest, but when he sees how run down you are, his heart literally hurts for you. Bucky wants to protect you from everything, from supervillains all the way to spiders in the house.

“Long day, baby. Just wanna be with you.” He opens his arms and you instantly crawl into his lap, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. He runs his metal hand up and down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible, while his flesh hand rests on your head, holding you to his neck, letting you breathe him in.

“What can I do for you, sugar? Want to talk about it? I can order from your favorite place. Can run you a bath. Whatever you want, sweet girl.”

“Please, be mean to me, Bucky.” Bucky feels his heart clench in his chest. He wants to keep your heart safe from whatever it is that is plaguing you, but he knows he can’t. What he can do is follow your request and make you forget.

“How mean do you want me, sugar?” Bucky has done this for you a few times. He always asks how you want him to treat you. It’s in his nature to be sweet to you, fill you with praise, but that's not what you want right now. You want to be degraded and treated like a fucktoy.

“Mean.” You keep your eyes trained on him. This is the only part where you need to keep your head on, make sure that he knows you want this.

“Remember your colors, sugar?” You nob, excitement bubbling up inside of you. “Remember, daddy will only be upset with you if you don’t use them. If you need to say yellow or red, you will.” His tone is final. This is the only way he would ever agree to treating you like a slut.

“Yes, daddy.” And just like that, Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He goes from your sweet, cuddly boyfriend to a cold and callous body of muscle.

“Then take your clothes off, slut.” He pushes you off his lap, just hard enough to give the illusion of indifference. As you strip, Bucky keeps his eyes trained on the TV, not paying you any mind. Your core throbs at the fact that you are completely exposed while he is still fully dressed.

“On your knees.” He’s still not looking at you, but you obey without thought, willing to do whatever he wants. Grabbing the back of your neck, he forces you in between his spread legs, and you whine at the fact that his cock is still soft inside his sweats. Any other day, Bucky would make sure that your knees were never on the hardwood floor without a pillow or something soft underneath, but not today.

On days like these, when you want to feel completely submissive, it takes Bucky a while to get aroused. It’s in his nature to love up on you, make you drunk with pleasure in the sweetest way possible. He feeds off of your energy. When he is sure that you are having fun, his body lets himself fall into his role.

“What? You think at the first signs of some tits I’m gonna get hard? I knew you were a dumb slut but I didn’t realize just how thick you were.” Your pussy was absolutely pulsing with need. With his hand still on the back of your neck, he rubs your face against his crotch, feeling his cock begin to harden at the smell of your arousal.

He pulls you back far enough to slide his pants down, foregoing boxers, and you immediately try to take his half hard length in your mouth. Before you can process it, Bucky’s right hand lands a slap to your cheek - hard enough to make a welt that will take a few hours to disappear. You gasp and your cunt pulses even harder than before at the sting left on your cheek.

His metal hand wraps around your chin, much cooler than it’s supposed to be, and forces you to look him in the eye. In the back of your mind you realize that he turned on the cooling function in his arm to sooth your cheek; the arm was built to keep him cool in the Wakandan sun and heat. “Did daddy say you could suck his cock?” He uses his hand to shake your head from side to side, answering for you. “Then keep your slutty mouth shut.”

He spreads his legs wider and pulls your face closer to his heavy sack, already full of cum. “Hands behind your back, and suck on daddy’s balls.” You join your hands together behind your back without question and nuzzle his balls. Wasting no time, you take one into your mouth, sucking feverishly, enjoying the light dusting of hair tickling your face.

“Oh, fuck, come on, slut, I know you can do better than that. Take ‘em both in your dirty mouth.” He pushes you further into him, cutting off your oxygen, and you swear you hear your slick drip onto the floor. Your jaw aches as you try to get them both in your mouth, but you can't; his balls are too big. Bucky ruts against your face, squishing his balls, precum leaking from his tip, dripping onto his stomach after he takes his shirt off.

With your limited amount of movement, you alternate between each ball, licking at the seam. Every time you switch balls, you feel the other drag wetly across your face and you have to clench your legs in an attempt to quell the ache between them while fighting with your need for air. “Such a dirty bitch, lapping at your daddy’s nuts, shit.” He pulls you back just as your head starts to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and you gasp for air, spit is covering the lower half of your face and is dripping down your neck and chest; Bucky feels his cock throb at the sight.

Reaching out, Bucky smears your spit around your face and leaves another, weaker smack to your cheek before he grabs his cock and uses his weeping tip to tease you, dragging it on your face. “What a nasty fucking bitch, drooling all over the place just from sucking some balls.” He slaps your cheeks with it a few times before forcing your head down all the way, making you gag and you immediately pull off, coughing.

He stares into your eyes, cold and calculating, waiting for you to speak. When your coughing subsides you manage to get out a hoarse ‘green,’ giving him the all clear. He takes your head and once again makes you take his cock, this time much slower and not as deep, the first time he wanted to fuck with you. “Such a perfect fucking mouth, shit.” He stops you from bobbing your head, “Stop being such a desperate whore and let daddy finish his movie.” You're sure you’re leaking onto the floor at this point.

You are able to see his face and he looks wrecked, mouth hanging open and head back; he’s not watching shit. Nonetheless, you rest your head on his thigh, getting comfortable, spreading your legs out to get closer to the floor so your head won't be bent at an awkward angle, ignoring the pain in your knees and the ache in your jaw.

The only sounds filling the room are Bucky’s ragged breathing and the movie playing in the background. There is saliva everywhere, his cock, all over his balls, down to his ass and on the couch. His cock is constantly leaking precum into your mouth but you don’t swallow, letting his taste linger on your tongue.

This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to demolish you. Sitting with his cock in your mouth is giving you too much time to think, so you do what any sane person would do - be a brat. At the first suckle, Bucky lets out a broken moan, at the second, he knows what you’re up to. Flicking your ear with his metal hand he hisses, “Don’t make me punish you, bitch.” At the third, he yanks you off of his dick, a trail of drool and precum keeping the two of you connected, as slaps you once again with his flesh hand, this time not soothing the marred flesh with his metal hand.

He stands and kicks the couch out of the way and pulls you with him by the neck. “You disobedient little-” he cuts himself short at the small puddle of slick that he finds from your previous position. “Is that what I think it is?” You only whine in response, his grip on your neck never faltering.

With his free hand, he reaches down to your pussy to feel just how wet you are, confirming his suspicions. “What a dirty fucking slut, leaking all over my floor.” He pulls you in closer to him just to whisper, “Lick it the fuck up, bitch,” before pushing you to the ground.

Your knees hit the wood hard and pain runs up your spine. You ignore the ache and brainlessly lap at your juices on the floor before Bucky smushes your cheek against the puddle and you moan. “Messy bitch, you are? Cunt is pulsing, waiting for my dick. Too bad I have to punish you, isn’t it, slut?” He leans down to the floor, eyes lined up with yours. “Daddy is going to give you ten spanks and I want you to count them.” You don’t respond immediately, stuck in a sort of limbo, drawn in further at the softness in his eyes.

No matter how hard he tries, Bucky can’t hide his devotion to you, that’s why he doesn’t let you look at him when he needs to play this role. His whole face softens at your silence, fearing he’s gone too far. “Color, sugar.” Stroking your cheek, he leans in closer, breathing you in.

“Green, daddy, so green.” The sigh Bucky lets out is audible and he feels ten times lighter.

“Good girl, you want to keep going the way we were?” Even though you said green, he wants to be certain.

“Yes please, daddy, want you to be mean.” You look so small and soft. Bucky struggles to put his facade back up, but he knows you need this.

Bucky positions himself behind you, staring at your ass and glistening pussy, and feels his cock bounce. The first slap isn’t soft by any means, you know there will be a handprint left. Your body jolts and Bucky groans at the jiggle of your ass. “One.” The second is on your other cheek and makes you clench around nothing. “Two.” He lands the next two much harder on the same cheek and you feel tears form in your eyes, yet continue to count, digging your nails into your palm.

He repeats the two spanks to your left cheek and takes a break to sooth your heated and raised skin with his metal hand after you’ve counted. The ground beneath your cheek is hard and unforgiving, leaving you neck bent at an odd angle. Spank seven lands on the back of your right thigh and somehow feels much stronger. “Shit! Seven, daddy.” Eight is on your left, and is just as hard. Your entire lower body aches: cunt pulsing and throbbing for his cock, thighs burning, and ass red and raw, sobbing with every impact.

“These last two are going to be harder, slut, since you forgot to count.” Even with his warning, you aren’t prepared. They are hard and fast, hearing them before you feel them, knocking the breath out of you, and you try to scramble up, but Bucky holds you down. “Don’t run away from me, you know better.” All of a sudden, the sharpest and most excruciating pain blooms from your cunt, and then you hear the wet smack of his metal hand hitting your core.

You wail, body shooting up, legs fighting to close to soothe the sting left. Before you can, Bucky’s hand on the back of your head keeps you to the ground, while he slams his cock into your cunt, not stopping to let you adjust. “That’s it, fuck. Such a good pussy. Dirty fucking bitch.” You can’t breathe, his cock is knocking all of the air out of your lungs. The only sounds in the room are Bucky’s moans and the wet slapping of skin, his heavy balls banging against your sore clit. With each thrust you’re sure he’s hitting your cervix.

The hand on the back of your head leaves to grab your hip, letting him fuck you even faster, the both of you sliding further and further on the floor. You try to brace yourself with your hands, but the brutality of his fucking is no match. “Daddy, fuck, s-so g-good, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but your cunt is pulling him in, barely letting him pull out.

Bucky is practically chasing you on the floor, hips never slowing down, eyes trained on your pussy, loving the creamy white mess on his dick. “Fuuuck, look at the ass bouncing on daddy’s cock, shit! Love the way this fat fucking ass looks when its all red and sore.” He’s in heaven, with the tight clench of your cunt wrapping around his cock, making him feel crazy.

“Daddy! I can’t, f-fuck, please, too much!” You’re fucking delirious with pleasure, feeling something twisting inside of you. You searched for something to hold on to, only finding smooth surface, legs locking, body seizing up.

“You can and you will take this dick, bitch. I don’t care if it makes you fucking bleed.” The pressure in your core builds tighter and tighter, all the while, Bucky’s hips never falter, sack still ramming against your clit.The breath is knocked out of you when you feel the most intense orgasm of your life pass through you.

Keening and wailing, you squirt on Bucky’s cock, the sounds of your fucking somehow getting even more wet until the force of your orgasm pushes his cock out. Your body is left twitching. There is a much larger puddle on the floor now - your cum. Bucky could fucking cum at the sight of your pathetic body laying on the ground, body wrought with pleasure. “Fuck, sugar! That was so fucking hot! You squirted all over, shit! I fucking love you so goddamn much.”

The entire lower half of his body is covered with your cum and Bucky swears he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. Nonetheless, he wraps his arms around your waist and hulls you over to where he kicked the couch, placing your upper half on the cushions. “You’re so fucking wet now I bet I could slide right into that tight ass, what do you think, slut?” Your core pulses at the thought of his fat cock in your ass, the two of you don’t usually do anal, given how big he is, but you can’t think straight, especially after cumming so hard.

“Yes, daddy. I want your big cock in my ass, want you to fill me up.” Bucky groans at the thought of his excessive load running out of your ass. Leaning back, he ruts against your pussy, gathering more of your slick, before spreading your cheeks with his hands, staring at your puckered hole. He lines his cock up and watches as precum leaks from his tip.

His cock is huge, much longer and thicker than average, and he knows it. Grabbing himself near his tip, he pushes, grunting at the resistance, knowing that this would be much easier if he takes the time to prep you, but you want to be treated like a whore. “You gotta loosen the fuck up, bitch or else I’ll really fucking hurt you. Want this fucking ass so bad, better let daddy in. Cock is too big for this little ass, isn’t it, gonna split you in half, leave you leaking for days.”

He pushes harder, tip finally popping in, causing searing pain to shoot through you. Crying out, you try to pull forward to escape the burning pain, wiggling further into the couch. Bucky leans over, careful not to push in any further, he knows you need a moment, any other time you would have been fully prepped and he would have slid right in, and wraps his metal hand around your neck, shushing you, “Shhhh, stop being so dramatic.”

After a few minutes, the pain begins to subside and your breathing calms down. Keeping his hand around your throat, he pushes in, inch by inch, and the pain comes back. You whine into the cushion, every new inch burning more than the last until his hips are flush with your ass. “What the fuck?! Your ass is so fu-fucking tight, shit! Fucking milking my cock, wanna pound this little hole, wanna fucking ruin you.”

Burying his face in the back of your neck, Bucky was taking deep breaths, completely out of it. He wasn’t thinking straight, not when your tight hole was hugging every inch of his cock. You on the other hand, were struggling, it was too much too fast. It fucking hurt, there were tears in your eyes, but your pussy was aching like it wanted more. Your clit throbbed with need, even when your ass was stretched to the brim.

You didn’t want to stop, but you needed a break, before Bucky could move his hips you muttered, “Yellow, daddy, yellow.” The hand on your neck left and Bucky maneuvered his upper body so that he could look you in the eye without moving his cock. His entire demeanor was different, back was your sweet, caring boyfriend.

“Good girl, daddy’s so proud of you for using your safe word. Shhh, it’s okay, sugar. Do you just need a second to breathe? Take your time, if you need to stop I will.” Bucky caresses your face as he soothes you, bringing you back down. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your ass, driving him insane. He wants to rail you so fucking bad, tip of his cock probably purple by now, but he would never do anything you didn’t want to, more than willing to sit with his cock inside of you until you’re ready or decide to stop.

You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, you loosen up and your mind goes fuzzy once again, desperate for him to move. You wiggle your hips, rocking back and forth, instead of pain, blinding pleasure courses through you. “Green, daddy. I’m ready, just needed to get used to your fat cock, want you to pound into me.” Bucky lets out the most sinful groan and stills your hips with his hands.

He starts out slow, easing you into his motions, gradually gaining speed and force the louder your moans get. “Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open. His hips and thighs were wet from when you squirted on him, slapping against your ass, everytime he pulled back a vulgar shlick sound could be heard.

He fucked you faster and harder, staring at where you were connected. “This fucking ass feels incredible. Taking me so well, knew you could do it, fuck. Splitting your tiny ass in half. Oh God!” He could feel his orgasm building up, fighting it off everytime his cum filled sack slapped against your pussy. Letting go of your hips he snarled, “Show daddy how much of a fucking slut you are and bounce that fat ass on his cock.”

You whined, but complied anyway, digging your toes into the floor to get more leverage to keep slamming back on his cock. The sounds of skin slapping and both of your moans completely drowned out the ending of Bucky’s movie, not that either of you cared. Panting and moaning, you kept working yourself on him, feeling another orgasm bubbling up.

Meeting your thrusts, Bucky was rambling, not having one coherent thought in his head, “Look at that, give me that ass, yes! Don’t you dare fucking stop, bitch, want you to milk this cock. Love the way it fucking bounces, never seen anything like it, oh fuck!” He was getting whiny, high pitched moans falling from his lips. He couldn’t help it, his cock was too fucking sensitive and you felt too good.

“M Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Bucky practically growls, getting up to his feet to squat, not missing a beat while still trusting in you. Every time his pelvis met your ass he whined and whimpered, loving the way it jiggled. He could feel you clenching around him, drawing his own orgasm closer.

“Not until I do. Fucking hold it, bitch.” It seemed impossible, but Bucky fucked you even faster, his hips moving at a ferocious speed. He wanted to cum so fucking bad and your high pitched moans were about to make him bust. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I’m gonna fucking nut. You want daddy to fill your ass up, huh? God! Fuck, I’m splitting you in two. Uhhh. Balls are so heavy, so much cum. Fuuuuuuck. Daddy’s gonna fill you up, have you leaking.”

His hand wraps around your throat and chokes you, hips still smashing against yours, your orgasm barely being held in. You try to talk, get him to let you cum, but no words come out. Bucky felt his orgasm approach, balls pulling up, “Shiiit, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna flood your ass, you ready, cum with your daddy. Right. Fucking. Now.” Bucky cums with a long, drawn out moan. The feeling of his endless load pouring into your ass sends you over the edge and you cum so hard your vision goes black for a second. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through you. Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily, prolonging both of your orgasms.

As you both catch your breaths, you feel Bucky begin to soften inside of you, still plugging your hole, stopping his cum from leaking back out. “You were so good for me, sugar. I’m so proud of you.” At those words you feel your bottom lip begin to tremble. Burying your face into the cushions, a sob escapes your throat, all of your emotions finally bubbling over.

Running his hands up and down your back, Bucky soothes you. This was always his least favorite part, seeing you cry. He knows that you’re crying isn’t because of him, but there is always a twinge of fear that shoots through his body, scared that he went too far with you. Bucky pulls out as gently as he can, hissing when the air touches his spent dick, and moves to rest his back against the couch, pulling you into his lap.

Neither of you care that his cum is leaking all over. Bucky will clean the room later, after he takes care of his sweet girl. You cling to him as you sob into his neck, his hands massage your sore cheeks as he whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for me, you made me feel so fucking good. Can’t even begin to explain how good you felt. There you go, let it out. I’m right here.”

Carefully, he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. When he tries to set you down you just cling on harder to him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “I gotta draw us a bath, sugar. You know you have to pee, I’ll be right here when you’re done.” You hesitantly let him go while he draws the bath, putting in your favorite oils. After you pee and wipe, he helps you up so you can wash your hands before sitting you both in the tub.

Bucky sits against the wall of the tub and you curl further into his lap, not wanting any space in between you. Somehow you still aren’t close enough to him, wanting to be surrounded completely by him. Tears are still leaking down your face and even with Bucky’s consuming presence, you can’t seem to pull yourself up to the surface. Bucky’s arms are wrapped around you, making sure that you are as close as possible without him being inside of you.

“Sweets, can you look at me? Want to see those pretty eyes.” You can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to move away. He’s your safe space and you just want to bask in his warmth. “Sweets, please. Can you tell me how you feel? I need to know you’re okay.” You don’t know why that set you off, but all of a sudden more tears escape you, sobs fighting to make their way out.

Bucky’s entire world stops, fear shoots up his spine. He doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he hurt you, if he did something that you didn’t want. He knows that you asked him to treat you like a whore, but what if you didn’t want him to go as far as he did? You used your safe word when it got to be too much, but what if you really wanted to say red, not yellow, but wanted to please him, or felt like you had to please him. “Sweetheart, did I hurt you? Did I go too far? Please talk to me.”

Even though you didn’t want to talk, you could hear that he was about to cry. “I’m okay. Just love you so much.” You could feel Bucky relax under you.

“You sure, sweets? I’ve never seen you like this before.” While some of his fears subsided, Bucky was still worried about you.

Picking your head up so you could look him in the eye, you saw just how scared Bucky truly was. “I promise, Buck, I loved every second of it. You made me feel so good and cared for. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.” Bucky closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. At that moment, Bucky understood why aftercare was so important. Of course he knew you needed to be taken care of so that you knew how much he loved you, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him feel loved in a way he didn’t know was possible.

Before the water gets cold you’ve stopped crying, making Bucky feel much better and he washes the sweat and spit off of your face and body, being extra careful with your sensitive pussy and ass. All the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you take turns kissing each other all over.

Bucky feels ten times lighter when he gets a giggle out of you. He knows that there will be days when you need him to treat you like a slut, but you know how much he loves and respects you. He lays you on the bed before grabbing your favorite lotion to put on, being extra careful when it comes to your sore ass, placing kisses in each spot after he's rubbed in the lotion.

The marks on your face are gone by now, but Bucky still fusses over your skin care routine, knowing you don’t have the energy to complete it. After taking care of you, he climbs into bed and covers the both of you up, still naked but you don’t care. Bucky reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs some chocolate while you feed it to each other. Neither of you say much, but nothing needs said.

You place kisses on his chest and arms, anywhere that you can reach, trying to let him know how much you appreciate him - Bucky knows. You fall asleep first, not being able to keep your eyes open any longer, Bucky moves you to his chest, cocooning you into him before he falls asleep, your head tucked carefully under his chin, legs tangled together, completely protected by him.

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