#james buchanan barnes fanfiction

[goodgirlofglory]

Ambrosial / One-shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 7,1k

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit content, mutual pining, scent kink, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, barely-there-handjob (like, not really at all), coming on clothes, a little bit of sweat kink? Sort of filth kink (not scat or anything like that but like, Bucky likes it messy), Bucky worshiping reader.

Summary: With his heightened senses, Bucky knows no peace when it comes to his olfactory system. Sweat, rotting food and sewage – the smells of the world surrounds him day in and day out. His only reprieve is the carefully curated space of his private quarters – and you, the sweet, new member of the team. With your unique, mouth-watering scent, it’s all he can do to not lose control around you. What happens when you unexpectedly cross that line between the two of you, and Bucky gets an opportunity to do more than just smell?

Note: My first Bucky fic eyooooo. He's a simp. It's weird, I feel like I'm so stuck in 2016 mcu. All I can picture is newly liberated-from-Hydra Bucky at the compound post civil war. But I reeeally liked this concept, and scent kinks really get me going. Anyone agree?

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Minors not welcome.

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Replies, reblogs, likes and messages are amazing<3

Coffee, petrol, rusty iron, wet dog, shit, blood and old toothpaste. For as long as Bucky could remember, he could smell really well.

All his senses were heightened. The serum that made him a super soldier saw to that. But of all the senses, smell affected Bucky the most. Whether it made him think of a memory, alerted him to danger, gave him pleasure or was a bother. Most often it was the last one. Garbage, old sweat, farts and rotting food was a constant discomfort to him, assaulting his poor olfactory system wherever he went.

And no one, save for Steve, seemed to get why Bucky preferred to keep his rooms in the compound so clean. He feared Sam would never stop laughing that time he found the scented candle in Bucky's bathroom.

"You're killing me here, Buck! Lavender and rose petals," Sam had choked out between fits of laughter, wiping tears while clapping Bucky's shoulder.

"First of all, don't call me that, and second, fuck off," was all Bucky could say to his own defence. Steve had given him a look of understanding sympathy, while you had only chuckled at Sam's amusement. Bucky let Sam have his laugh and kept the candle.

You were the newest addition to the compound, and though you and Bucky hit it off in a polite and respectful tone, Bucky didn't really know you outside your skills and specialties in the field (which he had mostly learned from reading your file - not actually talking to you). The two of you didn't seem to have much in common besides a shared love for food. Your rooms were just near the kitchen, like Bucky's, so whenever something good was cooking, you both would come sniffing.

So, Bucky didn’t really know much about you, except that you had the sweetest scent he’d ever smelled. Rich, slightly spicy, a mix of dried herbs and honey mixed with warm skin. It made him think of lazy mornings in soft sheets, quiet, content walks in lush forests, and sex. It was so appealing to him, he’d started to guiltily look forward to every time he got to smell it. He couldn’t ever let you know that, though. Couldn’t let you know how deeply he subtly pulled your scent into his nostrils at times, and how much it sizzled within him. How it sometimes made his cock grow half hard and sensitive in his pants. You smelled so good. 

He was horrified by his own reaction, how he couldn’t control it. Bucky could control everything, held himself so tightly leashed he sometimes didn’t remember how it felt to react naturally to something. The semis you gave him were a direct threat to that control. 

Bucky could faintly remember being quite the ladies man back in the day. No more, though. He barely knew how to talk to people these days, let alone women. Let alone gorgeous, cute, good-smelling women like you.

He had most of the scents of the compound down by now. Natasha's caramel lattes in the morning, Steve's burnt toast and black roast. Wanda's paprika dishes and Clint's cheesy pizzas. At noon every day the hallway would smell with the fresh sweat of the joint training sessions. Sam would enjoy popcorn on Thursday’s movie night and a strong, musky cologne on Friday's club nights. There would always be the smell of liquor in the air when Tony was around, and more often than not, the smell of smoke as Steve went to cool off on his bike soon after.

Only Vision had no smell at all except a very faint hue of fresh, clinical rubber. Eerie, Bucky often thought to himself. Sometimes it was the only reminder that Vision wasn't human.

There were rarely any new smells for Bucky to note. Rarely something he didn't know what was, until one particular evening. The compound was quiet. A larger group were off on a mission, and the rest had scattered away, some leaving the grounds for a few days leave. Bucky had left his room to scavenge for snacks when he turned the corner into the kitchen and bumped straight into you. 

“Oh gosh! Hi Barnes! You scared me,” you said with a surprised smile after giving a little yelp, nearly dropping the bag of chips and steaming cup of tea in your hands. 

Bucky felt his body flush, partly embarrassed that he hadn’t sensed your presence before nearly tackling you off your feet, and partly because you were standing very close. Closer than he’d ever been.. Then your scent hit him, and a new wave of warmth spread in his body. It was…heavier than usual. Richer, with an overwhelming tangy note - the warm skin and lazy mornings in soft sheets he’d mentioned earlier - and it coursed through him like a comb through wet hair, leaving him momentarily stunned by sensation. He swallowed the sudden excess of saliva in his mouth and fought to not close his eyes. You were right there, for Christ's sake. 

Don’t be a creep! 

Bucky pointed to the items in your hands and said “snacks”. 

Stupid!

You looked down to where he pointed, momentarily puzzled before smiling and raising your cup in a small toast as you seemingly understood what he meant. 

“Way ahead of ya,” you said, then you sobered and when you met his eyes your cheeks had gained a strange hint of color. “You haven’t been out tonight? I thought I was all alone here,” you said, and Bucky was almost too distracted by your scent to realize you were nervous. 

“Ah, no. Not for me,” he said, and then added “going out on town and stuff,' cause his communication skills were truly atrocious. 

“Oh. Yeah, me neither,” you said, smiling softly at him, looking up through your lashes in a way that had him squirming in his skin. Bucky let his gaze track down to notice for the first time that you were only wearing a huge, oversized t-shirt and fuzzy blue socks. He could see your bare knees. So cute. 

Don’t get hard, don’t get hard, don’t get hard…

And then, as Bucky tried to will his cock not to swell in his sweatpants, he realized what he was smelling. It was arousal - your arousal. Or rather, that which came after your arousal. The smell of you post arousal. Bucky swallowed thickly again. You’d been masturbating. Or maybe you had a visitor. No, those weren’t allowed in the compound. 

You’d been self-pleasuring then, while you thought everyone was away. Which explained the rosy cheeks and nervous tone of voice - and the slip of control that had blood rushing to Bucky’s cock right before you. He resolutely fought the mental images away with a proverbial stick, shook himself quickly from his stupor and stepped past you, running for the fucking hills before you’d notice the tent forming in his pants and be forever creeped out by him. You didn’t deserve that, fucking hell. 

“Well, enjoy the rest of your evening,” he called over his shoulders and didn’t look back as he entered the kitchen. A long moment later you stammered out a “y-you too” before Bucky’s advanced hearing caught your feet slipping on the floor as you made your way back to your rooms. 

Later that night, hot with shame, Bucky laid in his bed, hard and aching as he remembered your smell, the way it had lingered in the hallway, and the way your cheeks looked with that adorable blush. But he didn’t touch himself - refused to be that way, knew he wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes again if he did. 

§

That scent haunted him from that day forward. Each time he passed your room he would automatically look for it, each time he passed you he would scrutinize the nuances of your scent, trying to figure out if you’d been aroused recently or not. Not able to help himself, he would try and decipher if you were wet right then and there, if your scent changed during the brief time you were in a room with him. This was usually during mission briefings or the missions themselves, so it wasn’t often he ever caught your scent marinated and warm and potent like he had that day in the hallway. 

But then the day came where Steve, your usual sparring partner, was on a mission, and out of nowhere you asked Bucky if he could step in. 

“It’s just, with the serum and all, you might be the closest to Steve in terms of the level of challenge we’ve been working up to,” you said, looking down, hands behind your back as you stood before Bucky where he sat on the bench, having just finished a bench press set. 

He’d been resolutely not looking at you from the moment you unexpectedly stepped into the gym. Because he was concentrating on his routine, and because he was giving you space to concentrate on yours. But also because it was hard enough to keep his eyes reigned in when you weren’t sweaty and flushed, your compression shirt clinging to your toned torso, your tights hugging your thighs and oh god, plump, rounded ass perfectly. 

Bucky felt at home in the gym. It was a safe space for working out his surplus energy and jittering nerves, and fresh perspiration was a hundred times better than the stank of old socks and musty boxers he got elsewhere. He always felt a bit grimy, a bit uneasy in his own skin, with the way his bulky body and gait moved him through the delicate spaces of the compound. In the gym, he could just be loud and forceful in his grimy skin and everyone else was too. 

But now, with you so polite and sweet and shy before him, Bucky felt at a loss. He couldn’t damn well say no to you when you gave such a good reason for asking him. He didn’t want to be an asshole. You were supposed to be teammates. Colleagues.  

“What she means to say is that no one else is good enough for her,” Scott Lang chimed in from the bench next to Bucky when Bucky remained quiet a second too long. 

A familiar, rosy blush stole across your cheeks as you batted a hand towards Lang. 

“Maybe if you spent half as much time working your biceps as you do your mouth, I would’ve asked you,” you retorted, and Bucky didn’t bother to quell his snort of laughter. It wasn’t often he got to see your sassy side, though Steve had told him about it. 

You looked back and smiled a little at Bucky as Lang exaggerated a shocked gasp and got up from his bench. 

“You know, you shouldn’t be so nice all the time, Y/N. I would like to see you being a little mean,” he said as he grabbed his towel and headed for the gym exit, smiling all the while. 

“Try me, Bug-man.”

“I just might, ordinary human woman,” Scott threw back as he pushed through the doors. 

You looked back as Bucky, who was still recovering slightly from the smile you’d given him. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, Barnes?” you asked hopefully. 

“Yeah, sure,” he heard himself say, and almost immediately his heart kicked into gear. 

This is a stupid idea, he thought to himself as he joined you on the sparring mat. Your scent, alive with your fresh, warm sweat, wafted in a trail directly behind you where Bucky followed, trying not to take too noticeable pulls of air. You stretched for a bit and Bucky did the same so he wouldn’t end up staring. 

“So,” he started as he raised himself from a forward hamstring stretch, “what have you and Steve been working o- oof!”

His words were cut off as you launched yourself on him, landing a kick to his midriff that had the breath momentarily stealing from his lungs. Then his mind slipped into combat mode, and he lunged for you. 

It seemed like hours passed as you sparred. You’d come a long way in your training, and Bucky found himself receiving quick punches and efficient kicks unexpectedly several times. You’d already been sweaty when you started, and it didn’t take long for your mixed perspirations to clog Bucky’s nose, adding a layer of distraction to the mix. 

You wrapped your thighs around his head in a move eerily reminiscent of Natasha, and Bucky nearly blacked out as he came face to face to the source of that intoxicating scent. He might be gross, but he didn’t care. It smelled so fucking good. 

And then, as he grabbed you by the hips and flung you to the mat, catching your head from breaking against the floor and lowering himself to his knees between your legs to dampen the impact, you let out a surprised little squeal that had him flushing for entirely new reasons. 

You stopped short, panting furiously and looking up at Bucky with wide eyes, face red, hair clinging to the sweat on your forehead. You were utterly gorgeous, and Bucky was powerless. He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. You were a dream like this, alive and blinding, so beautiful and so close. It gave him a sort of reverent pleasure just to be allowed to look at a woman like this. A lucky reward he was completely undeserving of. 

You stayed like that. You on your back, arms limp on the mat over your head, legs loosely draped over Bucky’s thighs as he sat on his knees between them, metal arm bracing on the mat by the side of your head, the other, softer one, cradled between the back of your head and the mat under it. 

And then the unmistakable, elusive scent of lazy mornings in bed, sex and spice hit his nose. Your arousal, mixing with your sweat to a lethal potion. Bucky couldn’t for the life of him stop the instinctual indraw of breath, feeling himself instantly getting a little dizzy of it. The appreciative sigh escaped him a moment later. 

Your mouth parted slightly like you understood what he was doing, your eyes momentarily going wide before your eyelids drooped, pupils expanding. 

Then, in a move Bucky would never anticipate, your head lifted off his hand, and you slotted your mouth to his, warm lips meeting his in a hard kiss. 

Wait, what?

Even as Bucky’s thoughts scrambled to keep up with what you’d done, his body responded in kind, lips returning your kiss after only a beat of stunned shock. 

Muscles rippling with lightning bolt of unleashed need, his body surged forward, pressing your head back into the mat, dragging his flesh hand up to cradle your jaw as he deepened the kiss. 

You’d kissed him. He’d kissed you back. You were kissing. No, making out now, he thought fervently as your mouth opened to not so shyly pry your tongue against his, swiping slick and hot in a way that had his breath catching in his lungs.

Lust rippled through him, making even his bulky frame shudder.

With the cutest, neediest whimper that made Bucky’s blood rush in his ears, you grabbed his wrist with both your hands and brought his hand, the one made of flesh, down to cup you between your legs.

The surprised grunt that escaped him was entirely unplanned, and the one that followed was downright unhinged, escaping his control. Before his mind had completely caught up to what had happened, his hand had started to move back and forth on it’s own, rubbing you over and over, and fuck – you were wet, so wet it had soaked through the fabric of your leggings, making his hand damp.

Bucky’s breath burst out of him, and you suddenly wrenched away from the kiss, your head falling back with a dull thud on the mat. Your hands let go of Bucky’s hand and you covered your face with them.

“Oh God, sorry! I’m sorry, that was so thoughtless of me, what if you don’t want to, and I…and, maybe we should stop, I mean you don’t have to if –“ you rambled, shrill voice muffled by your own hands, and Bucky had to refrain from screaming in protest to this stopping. He brought the hand he’d awkwardly stilled between your legs up and pried one of your hands off your face.

You had the most adorable, crimson flush high on your cheekbones, and your face was all scrunched up from embarrassment. The sight of you being so small and vulnerable beneath him had a surge of protectiveness welling so fast in Bucky’s chest it physically pained him for a moment. He suddenly felt entirely sure he wanted to do, would do, anything to stop you from fretting, from worrying about anything ever again.

You were still mumbling faintly about not wanting him to feel pressured and how inaprorpriate it was of you to come on to him like this. Bucky would have none of that. Emboldened by his newfound emotion and almost panicked by the notion of this ending before he could touch you and kiss you just a little bit more, he lowered his face to capture your lips again, if only to shut you up. You whimpered into his mouth, eagerly reciprocating in contrast to your attempt at rationality. 

Fuck rationality. Bucky was starving, had been starving for months.

When he broke away, he leaned his forehead to yours, trying to catch his breath, to get order to his thoughts, but they were a jumbled mess of possessive, filthy wants that had his self control ripping at the seams. And your scent, God, your fucking scent was tinged with fucking ambrosia, like an aphrodisiac designed specifically to make Bucky’s vision go all loopy and his damn civility to shrivel to dust. 

“I want…I…fuck, you have no idea how much I want,” he blurted inelegantly, and then words escaped him all together, for there were no words to describe the profound ache that settled deep in his loins, the sheer carnal need to feel your skin on his, to touch you, to be the provider of every moan and keen of pleasure he could - to keep you wet and shivering and wordless from pleasure. 

His mind short circuited as he landed on the mental image of hearing you come with his cock deep inside your weeping cunt, and he pounced on you without really meaning to.

His mouth sought out the soft skin of your elegant neck, and he licked it before giving it an open-mouthed kiss, covering it in saliva. He felt your body twitch and writhe as he latched his teeth and tongue onto it, moving messily down to the collar of your compression shirt. He wanted to pry it off you, to tear it to shreds with his teeth, to lather the skin of your breasts with the attention of his tongue and lips, to nip and bite and suck on your nipples till they grew hard and red and puffy for him. But that would have to be later, for he had one goal he was working towards, that spot between your legs where he had already felt how much you already needed him. He would not let you go another minute unsatiated. 

Unceremoniously and frenzied, he kissed over your clothed torso as he crawled down your body. Your hands were in his hair, tugging and gripping as he went, the most decadent, breathy moans spilling from you panting mouth as he (rougher than he intended) manhandled your legs over his shoulders and then your hips off the floor, wrenching your leggings and underwear down so hard your whole body jolted, and fuck, he was telling himself to be more gentle, to not scare you away when you had given him this fucking gift of letting him get this far.

But he needed it; was desperate for it. Desperate to bury his face between your legs, breath in your warm, sweet scent where it was most potent, to taste you and feel your pulsate on his tongue. He needed you to come in his mouth, all over his face, so he would smell you there for days, lingering like the most illicit secret. Fuck, all his blood was rushing south so fast he felt almost faint.

You let him do what he wanted, laid down again naked from the waist down, so small and fragile and beautiful and Bucky wanted to eat you alive.

And then he was on his stomach between your legs, pussy inches away and it was glistening with how wet you were, your patch of dark curls wet too. Your whole body was shivering slightly, and your hands flitted about the mat for something to do, something to hold on to, a nervous gesture, or an excited one. Fucking hell, Bucky hoped you were half as excited for this as he was, and promised he would do anything to have you as addicted to his mouth as he already was to your scent. 

It was baffling how magnanimous the moment was to him, to have the absolute honor of being allowed this close to your sweet pussy, to have you trembling and flushed on your back, allowing him, socially stunted, unelegant and most of the time awkward as hell, between your glorious thighs, allowing him to touch you, to try and bring you the most pleasurable experience you could have. 

It had been a long time since Bucky was a religious man, but -

“Christ,” he muttered as he saw your pussy clenching under his gaze, more of your slick seeping out under his watchful gaze. 

In a moment of unexpected (and impressing) clarity, Bucky looked up to find your gaze on his face. 

“Is this okay? C-can I?” he asked, or rather rasped, for his voice was all husky, more growl than anything else. His cock was so hard in his pants, throbbing, and he had to push his hips down into the mat to alleviate some of the ache as he watched your face avidly, fearing for his life that you would do anything but consent enthusiastically. Suddenly he wasn’t sure how he would survive if you said no and he would have to tear himself away from you. 

To Bucky’s relief, a needy whimper escaped you and you bit your lips nodding before gasping. 

“Yes, please, please Barnes, I -”

Bucky didn’t let you finish your sentence. The minute he heard you say yes and oh lord - plead for him to do it - he surged forward and sucked your pussy into his mouth. He heard the air catch in your throat as he licked his tongue flat against you from weeping hole to your clit, the nub swollen and hard already. He flicked it with the tip of his tongue and your body jolted, a small sound escaping you. 

He did it again, flicking your clit teasingly, the little nub growing harder and bigger under his attention. He was ravenous, wanted to work you until your whole body felt like one big overstimulated nerve, contracting and throbbing with every touch. He wanted you soaked in pleasure, so hazy with it you could do nothing but come back to him for more. 

You let your sounds spill freely as he went, pretty, needy whimpers and unashamed moans.

God, yes, Bucky thought, hoping you always were so reactive, vowing to drag more sweet sounds out of you, his blood sizzling with how downright nourishing they were to him. 

You were writhing so hard on the mat you nearly squirmed away from his mouth, and Bucky hooked his metal arm around your thigh as he draped it over his shoulder, securing you firmly in place as he lavished your whole dripping pussy with his spit, letting it mingle with your own slick and coat his chin and lips in it, probably dripping down onto the mat. Bucky didn’t care, he couldn’t get enough. You tasted even better than you smelled, and his vision went blurry with how ecstatic he felt buried in the hot, soft flesh between your legs. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, bullying it with his tongue as he peeked up at your sweaty face. He drank in the almost reverent look on it, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, drool at one corner. 

Your hands still flitted about looking for purchase, for something to grab. He grabbed you gently by the wrist and led your hands to his hair, still working your clit with his tongue in rhythmic swipes, up and down, up and down. You instantly grabbed fistfuls of his dark locks in tight clasps and your eyes, blown and glassy, met his as he lowered his head to lap at your hole again. You whined, lifting your hips slightly to grind against his mouth and Bucky hadn’t thought this could get any better but the feel of you smearing your juices on his face, riding your clit mindlessly on his tongue, using him to chase your own pleasure - Bucky nearly came in his gym shorts and he couldn’t even be bothered by it. 

He fit his hands on your hips, just resting them there as you grinded on him, your brows drawn together in concentration. Bucky groaned into your flesh as more of your sweet slick dripped out of you onto his tongue, and you jolted against him, whimpering so adorably as your hips sped up to frantic bucking. 

Bucky started flicking his tongue to help you out, to drive the movement higher, faster, and you gasped hoarsely. 

“Yes, fuck, just like that, oh my god Bucky!,” you exclaimed, practically screaming into the empty gym. And hearing his name like that, so intimately and fervently, desperately as you praised him. Bucky downright snarled into your pussy, and that seemed to drive you that last bit off the edge. 

You threw your head back on a choked whine, whole body seizing tight, trembling like a leaf in his arms. Bucky kept his flicking licks on your clit, feeling it jump and throb as the waves of your orgasm rode your body. 

He kept licking until your voice returned to you in jolting little squeaks, and tried to keep going even as you pulled his face away from you by the roots of his hair. 

Bucky wanted to protest. Wanted to shake your hands off him and push his face into your cunt again. He wasn’t ready for it to end. He hadn’t gotten nearly enough of your addicting, heavenly taste. He kissed and licked over your thighs, smearing your slick and his spit all over them, nibbling on the soft skin and making you all messy, a preening sort of satisfaction settling warm in his chest at the sight. He wanted to see you come again, hear you come again, feel the way your muscles seized as you reached that pinnacle of pleasure. He wanted to make you come again. So he did just that. 

With renewed, almost feral fervor, Bucky shot to his knees and hunched over your lower body. Easily prying your hands off his head, he pinned them to your sides on the mat as he pushed his tongue against your hole, lapping up the gush your orgasm had created. A rational, though very small voice in the back of his mind told him he probably sounded and acted like an animal, but he didn’t care. He pushed his tongue as far inside you he could and felt your walls throb and clench around the muscle, driving his fervor higher. 

He kept your hands pinned to your sides a while longer, though it didn’t take long for your squeaks of overstimulation to turn back to sweet, needy whimpers of “fuck, yes, more, please, yes, God”.

Bucky wanted to feel more of you from the inside, and when he felt more secure in the fact that you would allow him more time between your legs, he let go of your wrist and brought his flesh hand down to your hole. His fingers trembled slightly as he swiped through your messy folds, coating them thoroughly before resting them just on your opening. 

Your hand returned to his hair, carding through and then tightening. 

“Pleeease,” you whined above him, and Bucky’s breath went short and puffy at how completely and ardently you submitted to him, gave yourself over and begged him. He wanted to hear you beg more, but he was too impatient to get inside you, if only with his fingers. 

His cock jumped at the thought of getting inside you, too, but he ignored it. He wanted you to come, right now. 

He pushed two fingers into you and groaned at the tight, wet heat that enveloped him. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, and if he used to do this sort of thing back in the day, he couldn’t remember it feeling like this. 

Your back arched off the mat on a garbled gasp. Bucky took the opportunity to wrap his other arm under your back and practically drag you into his lap as he sat back on his haunches, getting his mouth back on your clit. 

He flicked it fast, alternating with messy suckling, and curled his finger inside you to hook against the roof of your stretched cunt. He had no idea where all his moves came from. He hadn’t so much as seen a naked woman since coming to the compound and didn’t remember much other than fragments of his sexual escapades before the war. It must have been muscle memory, some hard attained skills locked deep in his mind. It seemed to be working well with you, and that was all that mattered to Bucky. 

You were keening and whining under him, half in Bucky’s lap with your shoulders still on the mat. Your hands grabbed and scratched on his knees and thighs below you, and Bucky fucking loved it.

He was aware he was acting like a brute. No finesse, no manners, just a primal and instinctual need to get you off, to feel and hear and taste you fall apart from his touch and tongue. And have that heavenly scent of your arousal fresh in his mind for the rest of the day. 

You came again quickly with Bucky’s fingers added to the mix, screaming his name as your legs went rod stiff, body spasming that same, incredible way it had done the first time. Bucky felt high on your juice, licking up the fresh gush with reverent licks.

He had the absurd urge to keep going when he felt your hand tap his thigh twice. Tapping out. 

Bucky looked up your body, or rather down it where your bum was held up by his arm in his lap. You were panting, your eyes half-lidded and shining. You smiled at him, and his heart clenched weirdly in his chest. He was coming back to himself slightly, and suddenly wondered if he should prepare himself for embarrassment and horrified rejection after the unhinged way he’d just acted. But your hands, so gentle and elegant, reached for his face. 

He bent forward to insinuate his jaw into the cradle of them, and slowly lowered your lower body back to the mat as you gently pulled his face to yours, kissing him on the mouth almost chastely after what he’d just done. He could feel himself tremble a little as he hovered over you, kissing you again and then again, deepening the kiss a little to slow swipes of your tongues. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his tongue, if you liked your own taste as much as he did. 

Your head plumped back down on the mat and a trill of laughter flitted effortlessly from your mouth. 

“Oh my fucking God, Barnes,” you said, eyes closed and a broad smile on your face. Bucky could feel himself blushing a little, though he liked it better when you’d called him Bucky. 

Taking a purely selfish chance, Bucky quickly backed down your body to lay on his chest between your legs again, resting his head on one of your spread thighs. Your hand absentmindedly came to lay on his head, stroking his hair lightly. He stared at your pussy, swollen and pink and messy  with the mix of his spit and your slick. He could stare at it for hours. He took another selfish chance and slowly leaned in to swipe his tongue over your slit.

You moaned, though a bit critically. 

“If you don’t let me catch my breath, you’re gonna kill me,” you said, but you were still smiling. 

“I don’t want that,” Bucky admitted honestly, and you laughed again. 

“I’m glad.”

Bucky went back to staring at your messy pussy, taking in that perfect scent that had all his other thoughts muffling to a peaceful hum. He leaned forward, watching you to see if you would stop him, and took another slow, almost soothing swipe over your pussy. You jolted slightly, then hummed contently, eyes closing. He did it again, for he was an animal with no self-control, and this time, your thighs came up to bracket his face, stopping him half-way. 

“Barnes,” you warned, and Bucky had to admit defeat. He crawled back up to hover over your body, hoping you would drag him back in for kisses, or just touches, or just some form of physical contact. His skin was prickling all over from the pleasantness of just feeling warm skin to his. 

Luckily, you did, pulling him back down to kiss him again, and he let his body lower to lay splayed on top of you, making sure not to put too much of his bulk on you, but plastering himself to you all the same. 

You gave a startled little noise and broke from the kiss, looking down with wide eyes. 

Oh shit, Bucky was still sporting a raging hard-on, which he had unceremoniously pushed into your stomach as he laid down on top of you. About to jump away, Bucky again readied himself to reign himself back in when your hand snaked down, grabbing him over his gym shorts, keeping him put exactly where he was. 

Your hand around him, even with the fabric between, drew a raspy gasp from him. 

“Can I”? You asked, looking up at him through your lashes. 

Bucky swallowed thickly, looking down at your dainty hand barely reaching around the bulge in his gym shorts, and his cock gave a noticeable jerk as his mind flooded with images of all the things he wanted you to do to his cock. He could feel his balls tingling, drawing up, his sack tightening in warning. He was already on the edge. 

“I won’t last long,” he admitted, barely daring to meet your gaze again. 

You smiled, biting your lip slightly. 

“That doesn’t matter, as long as you want to,” you said. Bringing your other hand to draw his face down, he shivered as your hot breath tickled his ear. He was so overworked on sensation, he was surprised his arms hadn’t given out yet for how weak and sensitive he felt all over. 

“I want to make you feel good,” you whispered huskily in his ear, and Bucky bit his lip to try and stifle the embarrassing sound crawling its way up his throat at those words. He wasn’t successful, and he sounded almost like a wounded puppy before giving up and pressing his flushed face into the crook of your neck, nodding rapidly. He hadn’t even given a thought to you reciprocating anything. He’d been more than happy to just use the memory of this as masturbation fodder for a long, long time to come. 

“Yeah?” you asked in a honey sweet voice, God, you were just so fucking sweet, and Bucky melted against you. “Roll over on your back,” you told him, and like a tamed beast eager to please, Bucky immediately obeyed, rolling off you to lay on his back on the mat. You followed, moving swiftly to get on your hands and knees between his spread legs, one hand moving teasingly up his thigh to wrap around his bulge again. 

Not able to help himself, Bucky rose to a sitting position to claim your mouth as you held him by the cock. He wanted you closer, everywhere. You kissed him while lazily touching him over the fabric of his shorts, sliding the tip of your finger up his length to the tip and Bucky jolted, grunting uncontrollably into your mouth. His breathing was picking up, his nerve endings spiking and sizzling. 

While thrusting your tongue into his mouth, Bucky’s hands cradling your face like the most precious jewel, you reached inside his shorts and took his cock out, wrapping your hand around it and letting it just sit, rock hard and leaking generously, between you. 

You broke the kiss, gave Bucky the most devilish smirk he’d ever seen, and licked your lips before lowering yourself to take him into your mouth. The anticipation burned like a lightning bolt straight down his body to his cock. 

Bucky exploded before you even got your lips to his tip. Cum spurted out of him, spraying his t-shirt, some going as high as his chin, and some getting on your shocked face. Bucky groaned as the orgasm wrecked through him, riding through him in wave after wave, the most intense one he could ever remember having - and you hadn’t so much as jerked him without his clothes on. 

Mortified and still trembling slightly with aftershocks, Bucky gathered the courage to look at you, and found you staring at his cum-covered chest. Your hand was still wrapped around his twitching cock, your knuckles shining with his spunk, and despite how Bucky had no clue where to go from here, the sight had hot satisfaction spreading in his chest. It was like he was marking you with his cum the way you had marked him with your slick (though that had mostly been Bucky marking himself by literally rubbing his face in it). 

He watched with rapid attention as you brought your wet hand up to your face and licked a stripe of cum off your knuckle, sucking your own thumb into your mouth. You met his gaze, and Bucky swore under his breath as his dick throbbed with renewed interest at the sight. 

Your mouth ticked up at the corner before you leaned in and kissed Bucky softly on the mouth. He shivered with excitement as you pried his lips open with yours to swipe his own taste into his mouth. Fuck, he’d never done that before. It was filthy and possessive and dominating and Bucky had never thought he’d be so fucking turned on by it. 

You broke the kiss with a content hum that had Bucky’s blood rushing in his ears. 

“That was really fucking hot,” you murmured, going back in for another kiss. Bucky felt his nervousness dissipating, replaced by a sort of ecstatic elation. A laugh bubbled up and out of him, and he kissed you back. Pulling you closer with his hands on your face, neither of you cared about the mess on his shirt as you laid down on top of him, kissing again and again, slowly, exploringly. 

There was a calm inside Bucky, a sort of sated comfort he could scarcely remember feeling, and he knew it was all because of you, the sweet, wonderful woman in his arms. He could lay like this forever, simply kissing you, holding you close, smelling your scent and feeling your warmth against him, your grounding weight on his chest. His cock had other thoughts though, already starting to fill, lodged between the two of you. 

You raised your head and cocked a brow down at Bucky, and he could do nothing more than shrug and blush. And then, as he started thinking about dragging you up to sit on his face, a booming voice came from the door to the gym. 

“Please, for the love of all things good and holy, vacate the gym room now! You’re keeping it hostage at this point!,” Sam shouted, and Bucky glanced over your shoulder to see him standing outside, facing the other way as he held the door open to shout through. 

Oh. Right, you were still in the very public gym of the compound. 

You squealed as you scrambled off Bucky to retrieve the leggings and underwear he’d ripped off you and thrown to the side. Bucky got on his feet and in between you and the view of the door, trying to shield you from view while you frantically redressed - he could at least try to be a gentleman after having devoured you like a hungry animal and then cum all over himself and you. 

You turned to face him once you were fully dressed, and your eyes bulged as you glanced down. With frantic, fumbling hands, you reached forward and tucked his cock, hard and proud and still jutting out over his shorts, back inside. Bucky grunted at the touch, seeing the lovely crimson blush on your face, stretching to the tips of your ears and down your neck. He grunted again, appreciatively, when he noticed the splotches of his cum still drying on your chin and cheek from when he’d busted in your face. 

Bringing his thumb up, he gently wiped his mess off your skin, wiping his hand on the back of his shorts. 

“Sorry about Sam and…” Bucky trailed, gesturing awkwardly to the mat and around the room. His communication skills hadn’t improved by the earth-shattering orgasm, then…

“It’s fine. It was I who jumped your bones, after all,” you said sheepishly, but you were smiling. God, so sweet. 

Bucky was about to lean in to kiss you once again when Sam’s voice cut in. 

“Don’t you dare start up again, I don’t have all day! And bring that mat with you. Matter of fact, burn it!” he shouted. 

Giggling like teenagers, you scrambled to get your belongings and exit the room. Bucky gave Sam an apologetic look as he passed him, and though Sam was clearly pissed off, Bucky saw the way his mouth was ticking up at the edges, approval shining in his eyes. 

You grabbed Bucky’s hand once you’d left the gym, and Bucky happily let himself be dragged along down the hall. He was already working on his plan to lure you into his room, and subsequently rub your scent on everything he owned. For though the intensity of smells were mostly a nuisance for Bucky, having a strong sense of smell wasn’t so bad when it came to you.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes fanfic #james buchanan barnes smut #ambrosial

[sjsmith56]

Customer Service - Part 2

Summary: Bucky makes it right with his former girlfriend. Second part of two part story.

Length: 3.8 K

Warnings: Angst, acknowledgement of emotional distancing.

<<Part 1

🔹 🔹 🔹

It had been several weeks since Bucky bought his suit at the store where I worked. He picked up the trousers that had been hemmed, waiting until I went on my lunch break to take them, so that we didn’t meet. Even though it was what I wanted, a part of me was hurt that he didn’t even try to see me. The suit looked good when I saw the TV coverage of the White House visit showing the Avengers receiving their commendation for a difficult mission that was successfully completed without the loss of life. Fashion blogs singled him out for the black monochromatic look he wore, saying it was obvious he had a professional stylist help him look so handsome and debonair. It was flattering and devastating to me at the same time. I knew I was good at my job, but I also knew that by remaining coldly professional with him I likely destroyed any chance of ever reconciling with him. C’est la vie.

We did notice an uptick in sales after the fashion blogs took note, as someone connected to the Avengers PR team mentioned our store, and the excellent customer service Bucky encountered in his search for a suit. The store manager was pleased, commending me for taking advantage of the lucky opportunity to sell a suit to an Avenger as well-known as Bucky Barnes. If he only knew the truth, that I only did it so I could see my former boyfriend once more. Then I noticed a couple of the other Avengers showing up, some of them like Joaquin Torres and Peter Parker browsing in the men’s wear selection, shyly waving at me when I became aware of their presence. Others, like Yelena Belova and Kate Bishop trying things on in the women’s wear or makeup departments. If I had been a suspicious person, I would have thought they were spying on me. But I wasn’t and they weren’t, at least not in the way I was expecting.

It wasn’t until I became aware of the celebrity gossip shows promoting the appearance of Bucky at several premieres and fashion events with some starlet on his arm that I understood why they had been at the store. As long as I was unaware of what was going on everything was alright. But as soon as Bucky moved on, I wasn’t alright; I wasn’t happy at all. When Sam showed up just before my lunch hour one day (with suspiciously accurate timing) I knew he was there for me.

“I’m fine,” I said to him, when he presented himself near the staff room door to intercept me.

“You’re not,” he said bluntly. “You’re allowed to leave the store for an hour, right? Come with me and we’ll talk. I’ll buy you lunch.”

Five minutes later we were in a small café, our hands around a couple of cups of coffee and an order placed for a Cobb salad for me, and burger with fries for him.

“Ever since he showed up at the White House wearing the suit you chose for him, the PR team has been pushing him to be more visible,” he said. “Apparently, he’s got the hottest look going for men right now and they want to take advantage of him being the first one to show up in public like that. He’s not dating any of them. In fact, he doesn’t even like doing it.”

“Could have fooled me,” I said. “Not that it matters since we broke up months ago. He’s free to see anyone he wants.”

“He doesn’t want anyone else,” declared Sam. “He only stayed away because that’s what you wanted; what you indicated the last time he saw you.”

“I know that,” I answered. “I created a monster. Now I have to live with my creation.”

He breathed out my name, but I just glared at him. Even though seeing Bucky out with those other women hurt, I knew objectively that he had no obligations to me, just as I had none to him. We were both free agents, free to do what we wanted or see whoever we chose to see. The fact I hadn’t even gone out on a single date since we broke up was beside the point. I could go with whoever I wanted, once I was ready. Sam gamely tried to make me feel better and even tried again to convince me to speak with Bucky, but I was pretty adamant. We were done. Taking some cash out of my purse for my part of the bill I left it on the table.

“Hey, no, this is my treat,” said Sam, putting it back in my hand. “Please, just think about things, will you?”

“You know, Sam, I would,” I said. “It’s just that when we were together, he never wanted to go out in public with me. Said he didn’t like the attention. I only wanted to go out maybe once a week to dinner or a movie and he wouldn’t do that for me. Yet, he manages to go out for the PR people several times a week with different beautiful women, meeting celebrities, rubbing shoulders with the famous people, people who don’t even matter to him. What does that say to me, the woman he supposedly loved. He needs to get his priorities straight, don’t you think?”

Sam’s face fell as he didn’t have a comeback for that because it was true. When I stepped outside it was raining which was just great, as it totally added to the crying I was trying not to do. By the time I got back to the store I had to excuse myself to the ladies' room and fix my makeup before I was presentable again. I threw myself into my job and tried to put any thought of James Buchanan Barnes out of my head.

That lasted another week until I was on the late shift, helping to close down the store at 9 pm. As a manager, it was my responsibility to go through the various departments, confirming that every till was closed off, the empty cash drawer left open to indicate the employer had bagged the money, minus the float, and taken both upstairs, where another manager confirmed they turned both amounts in. Security had already shooed the customers out, although there was always one or two who showed up with a minute or two left until the store closed, insistent they could get what they wanted quickly and at no inconvenience to the staff. Fortunately, the security staff were under strict orders to refuse entry to anyone arriving up to 5 minutes before closing, citing store security policy. A few years before someone had showed up, then hid in a storeroom and waited until they were certain they were alone, in an attempt to rob the safe. They weren’t alone, as the security system picked them up as soon as they exited the storeroom. By the time they made it up to the office the police were waiting with drawn guns.

It was 9:30 by the time I finished my duties and grabbed my purse and jacket, ready to take the train to my apartment, almost an hour’s ride away. I was tired, both emotionally and physically. After saying goodnight to the security guard on duty while he let me out, I headed towards the subway station when I heard my name being called. Turning around I saw Bucky, leaning against a car that was parked on the street. With a sigh, I approached him.

“What do you want?” I asked, knowing I was sounding abrupt, but I was too tired to care.

“Just to talk,” he said. “Get in, I’ll drive you home.” I looked around, trying to think of something, anything to say to him, as to why that wouldn’t be a good idea. “Please.”

He held the door open for me, waiting to make sure I was buckled in before he closed the door then he got behind the wheel and started up the car. Smoothly, he pulled into traffic and headed towards Queens. The sound system was on, connected to one of his jazz playlists. Turning it down so that it didn’t overwhelm us he drove quietly for a few moments.

“How are you?” he asked, finally.

“Fine.”

“Sweetheart, I know that fine means a lot of things, but it usually isn’t something good. Please, talk to me.”

“Alright, if you want to know the truth. I’m not fine. I work, I go home, force myself to eat something, then I watch TV until I fall asleep in front of it. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and drag myself to bed and other times I don’t, waking up in my clothes the next morning. Then I shower, force myself to eat breakfast and go to work. That’s my life. Satisfied?”

He breathed heavily, almost angrily, although his face seemed more upset than angry.

“Sam told me he talked to you.”

“And? What more do you want me to add, Bucky?”

“It wasn’t my idea to go out to these events,” he said. “It’s an obligation I would rather not have.”

“Right, yet you still do it. I only asked for us to go out on occasion like a real couple and you didn’t feel any obligation to do it for me, but you’ll do it for PR people. Did you not want people to know we were a couple?”

“Did you?” he countered. “I noticed that you didn’t say anything to the people you work with that we were a couple once upon a time. Were you ashamed of me?”

“No, I wasn’t,” I snapped. “I didn’t say anything to them because they’re a bunch of gossips who would have bugged me constantly for any juicy tidbits about the Avengers.” I looked out the window, shaking my head, while I trembled inside. “I didn’t need that in my life.”

Bucky looked away for a moment before looking at me. “What did you need? Because I feel there were a whole lot of things that I obviously didn’t know you wanted or needed. What did I miss?”

I knew if I started listing things that I would start crying so I said the only thing I could think of. “Everything.”

He looked stunned before he pulled over to an open spot, parking the car. Then he turned to me.

“Darlin’, look at me.” His voice was so silky and soft. When I turned towards him, I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks, unchecked. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I honestly thought I was holding you back.”

“You see, this is why … I couldn’t do it anymore,” I cried. “You were so unavailable to me, even when we were in the same room. You didn’t tell me things; didn’t say anything about your thoughts or fears. I thought I wasn’t that important to you. I thought that what we had was physical more than anything. So, I withdrew as well, trying to protect myself from how much it hurt.” I looked at him, feeling the pain on his face in my gut. “Aren’t we a pair?”

“Is there any chance to make it right? I don’t want anyone else; I never did.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I want to believe that I matter to you, I really do.”

I undid my seatbelt and opened the door, unable to take any more of it. Before I had even gone ten feet, Bucky was in front of me, blocking me from going any further. Every move I made to get past him; he countered it. It was too much, and I broke down completely, wailing like a baby. He enclosed me in his arms at that moment and held me, stroking my hair and rubbing my back, just letting me cry it out until I was spent. When I stopped crying, I didn’t know what time it was, or where we were. All I was aware of was the warmth of his body and the sound of his heart pounding as I laid my head against his chest. Then Bucky murmured something, and I wasn’t sure I heard him right, so I looked up at him.

“What did you say?”

“I said, let’s go home,” he repeated, looking into my eyes.

“Which home?”

My place was still quite a drive away in Queens. When we broke up, he had been living in a small flat in Brooklyn. It wasn’t the nicest place, but it was what his Army pension and a government stipend could afford. With a smile he kissed me.

“I have something to show you,” he said quietly, gazing at me with those blue eyes. I started to ask for details, but he placed his fingertips on my lips. “Let me show you, then you can ask me anything.”

Just the way he was looking at me, so softly and sweetly, I knew it was something important. We got back in the car and were soon on our way to Brooklyn. On a street in Prospect Heights, Bucky slowed up, then parked in front of a brownstone that had scaffolding set up in front of it. He turned the car off and pointed to it.

“With what I make with the Avengers and my lawsuit settlement finally coming through I decided to invest in a home. It needed some work as it was used as a rooming house for a long time. New plumbing, flooring, HVAC, windows, and then when it’s finished, painting and furnishings. Would you like to see it?”

I could see that it meant a lot to him, so I nodded, and he came around to open the car door for me, offering his hand to help me out, still very much a 1940s gentleman. He followed me up the steps then entered a number in the keypad which unlocked the door. Turning on the entryway light he stepped back to allow me to enter first. The floors were covered in a layer of protective paper. The walls had been refinished but still needed a final coat of plaster, then paint, and the windows needed trimming, but the lighting fixtures were up and as he turned them on, I could see that it would be a lovely home. He showed me the kitchen and unlocked the door to a terrace that led down to a small patio area with a shade tree. Returning back to the house we went upstairs to the second floor which had two bedrooms, one of them a large master with an ensuite bathroom and walk-in closet. The stairs led to a third floor with two more bedrooms. All of them had hardwood floors and had been painted in a soft grey colour. As we headed back down to the living room area, he told me more.

“The basement has an office and a workout room. I’ll need somewhere to stay fit.”

I looked at the back of his head, as he descended ahead of me on the stairs, puzzled by the last comment because I knew that Stark Tower had the best in terms of fitness facilities.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why are you showing me this now?”

He stepped out into the living room area, took a breath, then placed his hand on mine, playing with my fingers.

“When I agreed to be part of the Avengers, I never envisioned being in a relationship with anyone,” he began. “I thought it would be enough to pay back society for what I did as the Winter Soldier, maybe date a bit, and then someday, buy a bar somewhere on a tropical island and finish out my days there. Then I met you, and it threw me for a loop. I didn’t handle it well, convincing myself that you would realize I wasn’t a good bet. So, I held myself apart from you. I guess I was deliberately sabotaging our relationship, trying to see how far I could push you away before you left. Well, I found out and I hurt you in the process. I hurt us both because I rationalized that it was all for the better. Then I saw you again, at the store.”

“Sam told me you were there deliberately, to see me. You bought those boots on an impulse so you would have an excuse to come back.”

He didn’t deny it. “All those times you offered to help me buy a nice suit and I turned you down because I thought you were just being polite. Then I needed help for real and you were so detached and professional, that I figured it really was over between us. When the PR people said they wanted me to be out and about, showing how I had evolved from this jeans and T-shirt guy to someone who could represent the organization I said yes, thinking I should be a better team player. The others kept telling me you were hurting after the first PR pictures and videos came out. They could see it every time one of them came into the store then you admitted how much you were struggling to Sam. It just all came to a head how unfair I had been to you.”

“Tell me,” I demanded. “Tell me how you’ve been unfair. I want to know if you realize what you really did.”

He had the decency to look embarrassed. “I know that I wasn’t good at telling you how much you meant to me. When we were on missions, I know I should have called you or texted you more, just to say I was thinking of you and couldn’t wait for when I got back. It wasn’t fair asking you to look after me when I was hurt. I tried to rationalize it by convincing myself that because I would be healed the next day that it wouldn’t bother you, but it did, didn’t it?” I sobbed out loud then, and his face broke. “I guess the worst thing is that I was being selfish when I didn’t want to go out. Part of me tried to say it was time devoted to you, but the truth was that I was afraid to be out with you; not just because I was afraid of people judging me, wondering why I should have someone like you in my life when I’ve taken so many lives. There was hate mail, threatening to hurt my loved ones.” I stopped crying, as this was the first that I had heard of it. “So, I rationalized staying home so I could protect you, not thinking that it made you feel trapped.” He touched my face with a worried expression on his. “How am I doing?”

“What does this have to do with buying a house?” I asked. He took another deep breath.

“I’m retiring from active duty,” he said. “They’re recruiting a bunch of new people, some of them kids but with powers that make me look like a stick in the mud. In many ways I am a stick in the mud. I like my 40s music, I don’t get reality TV, and I haven’t had a break since 1943. I think I’ve earned the right to have a private life. I’ll still help train these new kids, and if there’s a big mission, I’ll consider going on it, but I want a home, and a family, with a wife and kids, and a dog, and a cat … all of it.”

“What else will you do?”

“Get my GED, go to college,” he replied. “Maybe be a house husband, cook the meals, clean the house, and look after my kids while my wife continues on her career, if that’s what she wants to do. I’m in a new century and there are parts of it I want to embrace as long as I have the right person with me.” He was touching my face again, with his fingertips just brushing against my jaw. “I asked you earlier what I could do to make it right. I already knew the answer. I make you the focus of my life. It’s all about you and should have been from the start. Let me make you happy, let me show you every day how much you matter.”

I wanted to believe him and by the look on his face he wanted me to believe him as well. He bought a house, a big one, to fill with love and laughter, children and pets, and he bought it for me. Not only that, but he was also willing to retire, and start doing something else with his life; embracing the life he wanted in the 1940s but wasn’t allowed to have until now, if only I was willing to embrace it with him.

“You know, I was thinking of getting out of retail,” I said. “The hours aren’t great for relationships, from Thanksgiving on through the New Year the crowds are ridiculous, and customer service isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. I’m at a point in my life where I’m ready to try something different.”

“Like what?” he asked, a soft smile on his face.

“Like marriage and a family, and a husband who adores me.”

“I can provide that,” he murmured, his arms moving around my waist. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, then I’m more than willing to help you get it.”

“Is that a proposal?” It became very still at that moment.

“No, but I can do that, too,” he said, not missing a beat. “That’s a promise.”

Our lips met then, and he poured every bit of his love for me into that kiss. We stood in that unfinished living room, the smell of plaster still in the air from the first coat put on the walls. There were no window coverings so anyone passing by would have seen Bucky Barnes and some woman kissing like there was nothing else in the world pressing upon them. When I got into his car after work, I was certain that this was it, the end was coming, and whatever was keeping us apart was too big to overcome. Instead, I found someone who wanted what I wanted, and was willing to change his life to make me happy. If he was willing to do that, then so was I. I never wanted him to quit the Avengers for me, but it was always going to be an option now, a choice that we could make together, when the time was right. The timing was perfect.

Short Fiction Masterlist

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #sam wilson #reconciliation #kiss and make up #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #buckybarnesshortfic #bucky barnes short fiction

[peppermintsparker]

love is a victim of the cruelness of time [b.barnes]

summary -- in which bucky barnes is the right person at the wrong time. warnings -- angst, little bit of explicit language, mostly fluff, mentions grief and the passing of people (not specified though), alcohol and drunkenness. first kiss is implied to happen but not when r is drunk cos consent is sexy my friends. authors note -- missed writing for bucky so i kind of dug deep into my soul to write a right person at the wrong time but with a twist. this fic has zero dialogue and was very challenging to write but i hope you enjoy it <3

Growing up, love and happily ever afters had only ever existed in fairytales. You had never believed in the cliches of love at first sight, or the right person at the wrong time, or even the wrong person at the right time. Whilst your friends would spend recess talking about love or having playground weddings, you were often found in the library with your nose in a book. 

Love was better kept in storybooks, where the princess always found her prince, and they lived happily ever after. Love was not meant for real life.

And then, you met Bucky Barnes.

You’d been a struggling writer when you had first met the Avengers; doing freelance work when you’d picked up a gig to write a piece on the superheroes for some shitty online girls magazine. Steve and Sam had been the most approachable on the team, Natasha had seemed intimidating, but was an absolute sweetheart, whereas Wanda was a delight. Tony Stark had been downright irritating, a pigheaded egotistical idiot you’d called him (by accident, although you hadn’t been having the best day) but he had found your honesty refreshing. Clint and Peter had both been fun, cracking jokes and making you laugh. Bucky Barnes, however, had been life changing.

Not long after the piece had been published, Tony had pulled some strings with Pepper and had got you working for the team as their official spokesperson. The pay was astronomical in comparison to the freelance work, and you had the time to write things you actually enjoyed. For the first time in the years since graduating University, you had the chance to live; you had the chance to fall in love. And fall in love, you did.

It started as a slow trickle: flowers, restaurants, Bucky checking up on you, taking the time to learn your quirks, likes and dislikes. The trickle soon turned into a deluge, and before too long Bucky had been all you thought about. Every waking minute not spent writing, you were with Bucky. Vacations, day trips, movie nights. You’d shown him early writing pieces, ones from when you were still learning and refining and improving; the very depths of your vulnerabilities had been exposed to him. And oh, how he loved you ten times more.

Neither one of you enjoyed dinners in fancy restaurants, so he took you to diners and you took him to cafes. You’d make dates out of farmers markets, or otherwise simple errands that you could have done alone. To be loved so wholeheartedly was like a breath of fresh air, the spring sunshine after a cold winter. Nobody had made you feel quite so loved as Bucky did, you supposed that’s why losing him was harder.

Falling out of love started like a slow trickle: declined calls, cancelled dates, Bucky spending more time alone than he did with you. The trickle soon turned into a deluge, and before too long, every waking minute not spent writing was often spent alone, or with Nat or Wanda. You’d even spend time with Tony and Bruce in the lab, just to keep yourself distracted. You stopped showing him what you’d written, instead he often had to read about it online or in a magazine or newspaper.

Ending the relationship when you first realised would have been the kinder thing, you knew that, but you were also selfish and did not want to lose the one person who had made you feel so whole. Friday had remained impartial, so you had often found yourself having secret conversations with the A.I; Friday having promised complete confidentiality. But, she had given the same advice you’d been trying to avoid — the kindest thing is leaving him, letting Bucky go.

So, you let Bucky Barnes go.

At first, you worried that the team would turn their backs on you and you’d be left without a job and without an apartment, but Pepper had reassured you that whilst you were primarily the Avengers spokesperson, your contract itself was actually with Stark Industries and with Pepper Potts as CEO, your job was safe. The team’s loyalty to you had remained steadfast, you supposed it was because they realised the break-up was a mutual decision and time was the only guilty party.

Of course, just because it had been on good terms, it didn’t mean that it was any easier. You still had a room at the compound, still could roam the building as you pleased and take advantage of the wide range of facilities on offer. You still held conversations with Bucky, still continued the sacred Wednesday movie night; hell, Bucky still had exclusive access to some of your writing from time to time.

Soon enough, time started flying by and 3 years had eventually passed since the two of you had made the decision to split up. In those 3 years, you’d lost a lot of great friends but it had only pushed you and Bucky closer together; now best friends, and room-mates, closely entwined by the grief that you had supported each other through.

Not only did the two of you support each other through your individual grieving processes, you’d also started supporting each other through the treacherous waters of dating. You’d pick Bucky up from a bad date, he’d extend the courtesy to you; it had worked, too, because neither one of you judged each other even if the date itself had shown a billion red flags. It was nice to have a friend, you thought.

There was just one massive, world-ending, life destroying problem stemming from being so close to Bucky Barnes: you were hopelessly, madly, deeply in love with him.

Shit, you realised, you were screwed. And, the Universe was playing an incredibly sick joke on you.

Not wanting to ruin the life you’d built up with Bucky, you closed the romantic part of yourself away. Not completely, not enough for the annoyingly perceptive soldier to suspect anything, but you found yourself going on more and more dates, even attempting to start a relationship with someone new. That had lasted all of 3 months when they eventually realised that you weren’t in love with them, that your heart belonged to someone else. So, you’d called it quits and they suggested that you grab hold of whoever it was, and don’t let them go.

So, you did. And, it went like this:

You had deleted all your dating apps, pretended that your short relationship with someone new had sworn you off dating for a while. You wanted to focus on yourself. If it was actually because you wanted to build up the courage to confess to your former ex-boyfriend, current roommate and best friend that you were in love with him, you’d keep that part to yourself.

Until the Universe had decided to play another sick joke on you when you’d gotten disgustingly drunk at brunch with some old friends, leaving Bucky to pick you up even though you had lied and said you were fine to Uber home. As the man drove you both home, your attention flitted from the water bottle he’d thrust into your hands, to the soft smile he always seemed to wear around you.

Back in the safety of your small apartment, dressed in your goofiest pj’s and in the comfort of your bed, you confessed your feelings to Bucky. Not missing out on any detail, no matter how big or small, you must have talked until your throat was hoarse and you’d tired yourself out, falling asleep in the middle of a sentence.

Bucky didn’t think you’d remember any of it in the morning. But when you told him again over a plate of eggs and bacon, he realised that this life was all he had ever wanted.

Because, he’d totally fallen in love with his former ex-girlfriend, current best friend, roommate and the girl he loved to kiss.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x you #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #james buchanan barnes fluff #james barnes fluff #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #james barnes #marvel cinematic universe #james barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #peach writes

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land - Bucky Barnes x Reader.

MASTERLIST

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

So, yes. There we go. I am sorry for the long wait. Life.

Part V. Rusted.

         Not knowing where you had gone, was killing him. He was breaking and he knew that he couldn’t postpone thinking about who were hiding behind this. He knew and it was slowly eating him alive. His fault. Bucky never saw himself as the hero you did, he was well aware of the innocents he has killed, he was more than aware that there was a lot of bad blood; he had made some enemies; very powerful ones. You knew his past and you decided to push past that, create a new future, where missions weren’t the plan. He had been naïve, too foolish to gamble this away, to leave his past to pure luck. He knew that it was too good to last. Yet, every time you entered a room, none of those thoughts made sense, because you were waltzing towards him, with a soft smile.                He was wide awake, not being able to catch a moment of sleep; sleep was a privilege for unbothered minds; his was a disaster. His ears were ringing with your screams, tormenting him. He was slowly letting go sanity. Everyone was doing the best they could, but with no lead or clues, they had nothing to grasp to begin with. He knew it; he already knew what had happened to you. His enemies had finally caught up with him; his past was now after you. If his gut feeling was correct, he didn’t even know how bad it was. He guessed; and his guesses were better and more accurate than most. After all, he had been through that himself.                    He was tracking down an old acquaintance of his; watching him stroll around with the power and the authority he had given him. It was not an easy thing to do… to witness the extent and the impact his actions had. When he had killed Cal Collins, he had given the perfect opportunity to Osman to take over. And he was not the easy guy Collins was; he went big.                    Pitch black, an hour before the first light of the dawn. Bucky was down by the docks, spying at Osman and his containers; containers full of guns, drugs and a couple versions of the super serum. Osman operated without trouble, having half of the city on his paycheck. A lot of people of high status were involved and no one wanted their name to be mentioned or associated with this kind of shipment.                    Bucky tried to reason with his own intrusive thoughts; for Osman to be seen here, he could not be the one behind the attack, could he? Then again, he was an ex-Hydra official, and he had both the means and the reason to go after you – to get to him. He wanted to gain his attention once more; to get even. Bucky, well, the Winter Soldier, had gone after Osman’s wife and it seemed fitting. But something told Bucky he was not the one behind this. Yet, he was still lingering and eavesdropping. If he was not the one doing this, he would most likely know the one responsible. Bucky was assured this had been Hydra’s doing. He took his time. He needed a lead. Anything to hold on to.

         Your eyes couldn’t adjust to the absolute darkness. You were somewhere cold, dark and very uncomfortable, judging by the rock that was hurting your thigh. You didn’t know where you had been taken or for how long you had been there. You only knew that your legs were almost numb and your head had been bleeding at some point; you could feel the burning sensation clearly.                     This was no random attack; they knew their way in and out, they knew who they wanted to take with them. They knew you. And you were betting your ass that you knew them too. You didn’t know the man on top, but you knew that it if you cut down one head, two more grew back in its place.                     “Illiterate bastards” you scoffed as you remembered the mythology behind Hydra. And they were no Hercules, that was certain. But you were not a Megara, either; you wouldn’t wait for any man to save you. Not if you could do it by yourself. There were a couple of problems with that plan. You had no idea where on earth you had been moved.                 Pain was the only reminder of your little adventure. You could sense the vibrations and you knew that somewhere along these walls, there must be an exit. You knew that a soldier or two would pick you up and drag you all the way to a lab, turning you into a rat. You had a vague idea of the things they wanted from you, aside obedience. You knew, deep down, you did. You just couldn’t think of them because your mind was only capable of worrying about him and his hell.

         He was constantly on your mind. Whether or not he was still doing the best he could to not let his other side take over; or if he was taking care of himself enough to be okay without you; or if he had opened up about his nightmares to anyone else; or if he had already sought out help. But you knew that the longer you were here, all the more agonizing it would be for him. You needed to get out before Hydra got any funny ideas; and before they bend your will.                   You heard voices, some spoke English perfectly, while others did sound Russian. You wanted to scream and smack their heads together but thought it stupid. Instead, you pulled yourself together and thought of a plan. Anything, really. Now that your eyes were adjusting to the dark cell, you could make out the outlines and the door frame that wasn’t sealed properly. It was just an inch, but it gave you more hope than the sun itself.                “приготовь ее” get her ready? Ready for what? Your stomach fell and twisted, in agony because all that hope was now gone. If they wanted you ready for something, that was not a trip to the Bahamas. You didn’t know but you could guess. You closed your eyes the moment you heard the door.             “Она все еще в отключке” one of them informed the other. Not very observant, if you were being honest; you weren’t passed out.                      “Hey, Princess” the other one said and a moment later a bucket full of ice water was thrown all over you, making you jump up in shock, but you managed to contain the scream. You wouldn’t give them that kind of satisfaction.          They grabbed you and dragged you; you weren’t fighting this. You wanted your strength and stamina for a possible way out. They weren’t kidding around. Their hands were buried in your skin, causing your muscles immense pain. The hand behind your neck, threatening to crack it, was pushing your head down, and your lungs didn’t have space for a breath.          You tried to notice the different corridors. They were all the same. It wasn’t going to be easy to get out. They pushed you in a room, using you to open the titanium doors, at the same time, throwing you like a puppet. You ended up on the floor, with a bloody nose and a painful ringing. You didn’t even make a sound. No, you wouldn’t give in.              “Well, well. It is an honor to finally meet you” a highly persuasive voice greeted you and made you look up. You didn’t know the man in front of you but you knew he was bigger trouble than a simple brute. He extended his hand in a way that showed he wanted to help you up but if you had learned anything from the war, this had to be it. Never trust a man who projects peace while maintaining the war. You got up by yourself and he smirked.                   “You are not what I expected. I see now why the Soldier found his serenity, even after his hideous past” he remarked and it was a punch in your stomach, listening to this hyaena talking about Bucky like that. But it did confirm something; they were after you to kill him.                The room was a big glass container with different torture devices, cells, and chairs wired to electricity. A table had been emptied. You guessed it was meant for you and panic began to take over.             “I am Johann Fennhoff, but please, call me Faustus” and with a smile, he placed a cloth on your nose. You passed out.

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[petrovaaaae]

Winter White Wolf

CHAPTER 1

​To be in this new world, living a life outside of his brain-washed state. It was just going, great. After the events of the flagsmashers he was promoted to the team. Great. Did he want that? Well, what else would a semi-stable 106-year-old man do with his time? Nothing. Absolutely, nothing. Bucky spent his time walking around Brookyln, trying to piece together his memories. It was either that or spend time with Alpine, the cat he rescued. Why did he get a cat? Good question. Raynor had told him it was good for therapy, heck, he didn't mind the cat - all it did was sleep. He had somewhat gotten a hold of them nightmares. Now he was just a ghost. A Brooklyn ghost. Boo.

There had been a term that was used for him, some kid called him an emo. What the hell was an emo, you say? Well, Bucky did ask what it meant, not the kid though - he asked Stark. Stark only laughed and said it had something to do with the fact that Bucky looked as if he was either ready to murder someone, or that he was done with life completely. Those were apparently the only two emotions he showed. Bucky had emotions. Bucky simply did not like showing emotions. What else did people expects? For ninety years he was used as a fucking murder weapon.

But here was, on another darn mission with the team. Now that the flag smashers were gone, they were tasked to clean up the mess they made. Did Bucky agree with it? It depended. But what was consistence was Sams constant annoyance. Bucky often wondered how much easier would it be if he returned as one man, without him. Then he thought about the fact that Sam's sister, Sarah, would kill him and have her friend Carlos hide his body somewhere. Maybe if that comms system hadn't of went down he would have heard Natasha's warnings, and then they wouldn't be in this predicament they were in of being surrounded by people who wished to murder them. Maybe, just maybe Sam wouldn't have gotten his dumb ass shot if he had of went right, instead of left - like Bucky had said. But low and behold, whatever Bucky planned, no matter how much he planned ahead, it never worked out.

"Get out of here man." Sam said, groaning as he held a hand to his side, covering the obvious gunshot wound, trying to at least stem the bleeding.

"What? No. As much as I would love to leave you, Sarah would kill me." Bucky said, annoyed as he crouched down beside Sam.

"Its good, man. Honestly, its just a scratch." Sam claimed, which Bucky knew to be bullshit, and his thoughts were confirmed when Sam moved his hand, causing a fresh stream of blood to flow "Huh? Okay, maybe its not a scratch." Sam said, paling slightly.

Sighing, Bucky got to his feet, carefully glancing over the counter of the market, which was now, thankfully, clear of civilians. They had been unfortunate and unlucky to be caught in the crossfire that unsued. Thankfully, the members of this certain organisation had been bad shots, pretty shit shooters. Well, apart from the one that got Sam, that is.

​What he wanted was for these god damn comms to come online again, so Natasha could at least tell them what she could see from the quinjet. Would it not be easier for Nat to simply shoot these dicks? Yeah, it would have bee. But apparently they didn't do, easy. But they weren't supposed to be in Romania, in fact if word got to the states that the Avengers were here, they would be in a shit ton of trouble. Which was why they weren't suited and booted. But, some mad scientist was trying to create his own drug, one that would mutate a human and give him some sort of, power? Why would someone do that, you ask? Who the fuck knows. Bucky hated the future and everything that came with it.

"S-am, -uck, ......" Nats voice was broken as it came through on the comms.

"Not sounding very good, Nat." Bucky told her.

"Inco-.....extr-....coming." Nat said, and Bucky looked over at Sam.

"What the fuck did she jus- Behind you!" Sam groaned, and bucky turned to see a man coming his way.

They fought and Bucky took him down easily but the hairs on the back of his neck tingled as someone moved behind him. Turning, he was met with the bruised face of a woman, wearing the same suit that Nat usually wore on her missions, a belt clinching in her waist. Her chestnut hair was shoulder length, but it was a bit dishevelled - as if she had just been in a fight. He launched at her with one of his knives, which she blocked easily, taking out her gun which he quickly deflected, knocking it from her hand before she got the chance to use it. Quickly picking it up, he pointed the barrel at her head, causing the woman to tilt her head, an almost smirk pulling on her face. She didn't back down, instead she lifted her hand, an instant force hitting him in the chest and knocking him back. What the hell was that?

​When Bucky sat up, he was shocked to see his knife that he had previously tried to use on the woman in the knife of one of the men who was previously attacking them, causing him to collapse on top of Sam, causing him to spew out a string of curses. As another man approached the woman, she turned towards him, waiting for him to approach before she blocked each blow he made, hitting him repeatedly in each pressure point, before she made a snake-like movement around his body, bracing him in a choke hold position with her legs as she floored him. As another approached, instead of fighting, she lifted her hand, causing him to fall back - the same thing this woman had done on Bucky.

Standing up, he lifted the gun she had previously tried to use on him, pointing it at her. As she turned, she studied his face. Who the hell was this woman?

"Put your hands up." Bucky shouted towards her "Wait, don't put your hands up." They did that thing.

"Nat, I don't think they got your message." The woman spoke. Her voice had an Eastern European twinge to it, it wasn't strong but he could still hear it. As he slowly approached her, he patted her down for weapons with a single hand, whilst he kept the gun pointed at her.

"Wait. Alina, is that you?" Sams said, he knew this woman?

"Christ, Barnes, shes part of the team. Back down." Nat said over the coms. She sounded disappointed.

"Will one of you please get this dead person off me!" Sam pleaded, slumped in the corner. Bucky gave the woman a glare, telling her that he was in fact, keeping the gun as he touched it into his waistband.

"He dropped like a bag of bricks." Sam groaned as Bucky rolled the man off him, easily.

"You know, a little warning would have been nice, Romanoff." Bucky hissed into the comms

"I did warn you! I literally said there was incoming, that I was sending an extra pair of hands. Its not my fault this place has shitty signal." Natasha defended.

"Its these buildings, this place. Its old." The woman said, glancing around at the place before her gaze landed on them both "Samual, a pleasure as always."

"Irina, I would say the same but..." Sam moved his hand away from the gunshot wound and this woman, nodded her head slowly.

"Follow Irina, she knows where I am parked." Natasha's voice came through, and Bucky picked Sam up, throwing him over his shoulder.

Carrying a downed team member was never easy, even for a super soldier. But, it was faster than Sam trying to hobble his way back. Getting out of that place meant they were breaking cover, leaving themselves open, making leaving a little more difficult. Gun shots rang out as the rest of the men who were after them, began closing in. This woman turned, reaching behind Bucky to where he placed the gun in his waist band, offering him a smile as she done it, completely unconcerned, she then turned back, firing at those men. Apparently, he was not allowed to keep the gun.

As they walked, she worked, aiming her gun and firing. As soon as the ammunition ran out, she turned, tucking the gun back into Bucky's waistband. So, he was keeping the gun? Before turning, and just as she had done with him, she let her hands do the work, knocking the men back with a single movement of her hand. They seemed to have lost them, or did she just kill them? Because they were walking through a busy market street, the locals were giving them weird looks. They entered a house, passing a very confused family, headed down a flight of stairs into a basement and out a door through a backyard out to a densely forested area, and out of nowhere a ramp appeared.

The three of them entered the quinjet and Bucky set Sam in one of the seats as Natasha started take off procedures. They were in the air without delays and once they reached a cruising altitude, Natasha turned on the autopilot to check on them with a mediket. This woman, had already taken Sams shirt off, examining the wound as if she had done it many times before. She wore surgical gloves as she dug her fingers into the wound.

Meanwhile, Sams face was stuck on the one expression ; pain.

"Irina, do not touch that." Sam warned, causing her to look up.

"Im sorry, its in a really weird place. Its like, do I press against your liver or press against your intensines ; you know?" She told him, clearing her throat.

"Two fingers in and you can feel all that? I don't know if I should be amused or down right concerned." Sam half laughed, as the woman looked up at him with a smile.

"What would hurt the most?" Bucky asked from his seat

"Would you like me to try it on you? So then you can be the judge?" The woman asked, turning her head to look at him, raising her brow. Bucky rolled his eyes, looking away. He could hear Sam's laughter.

"Getting shot is bad, but getting repeatedly stabbed is worse." Natasha admitted, moving to hold Sam's hand

"I have been shot, and stabbed. Getting shot is better." The woman said as she finally pulled the bullet out, examining it before dropping it into Sam's free hand with a smile.

"Yeah. Tell that to the guy you stabbed in the throat back there." Bucky said from where he was sitting, looking at them.

"You stabbed someone in the throat?" Natasha asked, looking at the woman.

​"Barnes stole my gun. Wilson was about to get killed by that guy." The woman offered, giving a slight shrug

"I didn't know Romanoff had back up onboard." Bucky reminded them.

"She actually wasn't...onboard. What were you doing here, Irina?" Natasha asked, looking at the woman who simply shrugged.

"Enjoying the country." The woman said, earning her a look of disapproval from Natasha because it was obviously a lie.

"Well, Barnes, this is Irina Petrova. You would have met in passing at the battle for earth." Natasha mumbled, her gaze staying on Irina.

"Yeah, were I was literally trapped and nearly DROWNING. You are all lucky I finally figured out this whole...vibration thing." Irina said, looking at her hands. Vibration thing? So that's what that was?

"I had a lot going on that day, Irina. There was no way I was able to get you out of there myself. I was getting Bruce to help get you out. Plus, Fury helped in the end too." Natasha said defensively.

"Yeah, so did several wakandans and a fucking wizard. Like I said, lucky I figured out the vibration thing."

Bucky kind off remembered, not that he wasn't occupied himself, but he did remember. She had a done a run with the Nano-Gauntlet herself and gave it to Barton. The archer said she got trapped when the compound collapsed. He didn't think it was a hulk-sized task, but like he said, he was occupied himself during that time.

"Drowning or not, you did a good job, Petrova." Sam smiled.

"Don't boost her ego." Natasha said instantly

"Don't listen to her, boost my ego, Wilson." Irina joked, a smile pulling on her features.

"You know, shirtless and fingering are both kind of like....a second date thing. I think you owe me a drink, Petrova." Sam said smoothly, causing Irina to laugh, shaking her head.

"Yeah, I don't think so." Irina whispered, looking down.

For the rest of the flight, Irina and Sam talked quietly. Bucky couldn't help staring at her...he thought she at least looked somewhat familiar. Yes, he remembered her from that day against Thanos, but felt as if he knew her from before then.....but he couldn't place her anywhere in his memories. After waking from his brainwashing, he couldn't remember all the names of faces of those he met. It also didn't escape his notice how Irina didn't even so much as look in his direction.

Instead, Irina gave Sam painkillers which eventually knocked him out before she went and sat with Natasha in the cockpit. Bucky, being Bucky listened to their conversation as they spoke in hushed tones, something about a special assignment. Natasha asked her about some guy, to which Irina told her it was over, and she asked Natasha about you know who, to which Natasha grew frustrated. Was Bucky wanting to be nosy? Perhaps, Or maybe he wanted some insight to this woman who subdued him. Him, a supersoldier with a vibranium arm.

Irina made him uneasy, that was for sure.

Relief finally washed over them when they reached the compound, escaping her company by taking Sam to the medic bay to Banner and Doctor Cho to receive proper medical treatment. As he stood at the window, he watched as Steve hugged Irina affectionately in the courtyard below, with Natasha smiling beside them. It seemed the team knew this woman. Bucky didn't realise how tense he had been since this woman showed up, and when he watched her leaving he felt oddly...satisfied. Silently relieved that, perhaps, he wouldn't have to see her again. 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x oc #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #winter soldier fanfiction #bucky needs a hug

[buckyalpine]

40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.

Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.

You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.

Bucky was in love.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"

“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"

“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.

"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.

He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.

How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.

So much closer.

-

"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"

You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.

“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.

"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"

"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.

All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-

“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"

You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”

His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.

"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.

Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.

-

You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.

"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.

"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.

You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.

"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"

He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.

"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.

"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.

But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.

If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.

You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.

"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.

Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.

Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-

“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"

"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .

“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”

His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.

“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

-

And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.

There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.

The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.

Everything was perfecttt.

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[gutsby]

Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #mob bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob bucky #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky barnes

[mrsbarnesblog]

firewood

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help.

Word count: 4.8K

Warnings: +18❗️smut, hot neighbor bucky is a fucking warning, kinda size kink, rough sex, protected sex, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: this is one of my favorite works, so I hope everyone who hasn't read it before will like it too (it's hard to not fall for lumberjack Bucky, tbh🤷‍♀️)

“Hey, do you need help?” You stopped what you were doing. You breathed heavily, your arms ached, and you were already sweating. The man, your neighbor, whom you already saw a few times when you arrived home, was standing before you with his hands in his jeans pockets. 

He was attractive. Really handsome. Probably 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and visibly a lot of muscles under the clothes. Yeah, that red henley left nothing for your imagination. His dark hair was put in a low bun, and he had a little stubble on his face. But you mostly noticed his bright blue eyes, which looked straight at you very attentively.

“Sorry, what?” You said as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt. 

“I asked if you needed help. Sorry, but it seems like you have some troubles.” He smiled at you almost shyly, and you couldn’t even make yourself mad at his words. 

“Um, It’s my first time doing it.” You awkwardly smiled back, finally putting a big ax to the ground. “But I need wood for my fireplace, so I have to work with what I have.”

“I see… but don’t you have a boyfriend or a husband? I mean, it’s not really easy to do for a woman, and you seem pretty... petite for this?” It almost sounded like a question. “I wanted to say that I can help you if you allow me, because that thing might be really dangerous if you don’t know how to work with it, and I'm a lumberjack, so... it’s not a problem for me.” He awkwardly started to rub his neck. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“For a woman?” You playfully arched an eyebrow. “So you think that only men can do this?” You saw how his eyes widened, and you tried to hold your laughter.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He lifted both hands in the air. “It’s just gonna take you forever to do, and as I said before, It’s not the safest work. And since this is my job, I could’ve helped you. As a neighbor, you know?” 

“Relax, I’m just joking.” You softly smiled at him. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/N.” You reached out your hand. Bucky’s face relaxed, but then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“I like you.” He said, as he shook your hand. His grip was tight, and you felt that he really did a lot of physical work with his hands.

“Oh… thanks?” 

“Soo, do you need help?” He asked again.

“Um, honestly, I don’t know. I can’t just let you work for me for free. Can I pay you?”

“Doll, I have enough money, and I don’t need yours. I don’t think that you need tons of firewood, so it would be easy work for me.”

“Okay, but maybe I can give you food? Pastry? I really love to cook, and everyone said that I’m good at it.” You nervously played with your sleeve while Bucky was staring directly at you.

“Deal. I would honestly die for homemade food, ‘cause last time I ate it was at my ma’s and I really miss it. But you don’t have to do this, okay?”

“And you don’t have to help me.” You shot back.

Bucky’s smile grew wider, and he started shaking his head. “You have some temper, doll... Friday is okay?” 

“Yeah, totally, any time you’re free.” 

“Deal. I should probably go, and you better start training to cook food for me. I am really picky, and you insisted on paying me with it.” He said and started to walk back.

“Oh, shut up.” You laughed. “I know what I’m doing; don’t underestimate me!” 

“Fine. See ya, doll.” Bucky waved at you with the biggest smile on his face and finally walked away.

Well, it’s gonna be interesting. 

For the next almost two months, Bucky had been “working” for you, and you paid him with your food every single time because you couldn’t leave that man starving after he just got home from work and then willingly helped you. 

You two got closer. Bucky was a really good man; you found out it while you were sitting in your backyard looking at how his muscles were moving with every swing of the ax. He was right that it wasn't a big deal for him—the job that you would’ve been doing for several hours he did in twenty or thirty minutes. 

The conversation with Bucky was easy, he was a pretty reserved person, but he still told you everything about his job and his friends and asked you things about your life. It was hard not to fall for him. Especially when he gave you this boyish smile every time it was time to say goodbye or when you brought him your homemade food. 

Usually he comes to your house every Friday after work around 6 p.m., but today it was already 8 and he still didn’t show up. There was no light in his windows either, so you became really worried that something serious had happened. 

You were nervously sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen while your dinner was getting cold on the stove. You really had no appetite. What if he got injured from his dangerous work? Or maybe you were just overreacting and he went on a date with someone? You really had no reason to be worried that much because Bucky probably didn’t even think of you as a close friend, and you were just a too dramatic person with attachment issues. 

The light knock on the door scared you a little bit, but you still jumped out of your seat to open it. 

Bucky was standing there, visually perfectly fine and without any injuries, and you sighed with relief. 

“Bucky, oh my god, hi. Are you okay? I was really worried about you, and I don’t even have your phone number to text or call.” You mumbled as your eyes studied his face. 

“Hey, doll.” Bucky softly smiled at you, but it was obvious that he wasn’t really in the mood. “I’m fine. Just a shitty day at work. My boss went fucking crazy over nothing, and it was just a mess.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “But I have to do your firewood, so I'll go change and be back in a few minutes, ‘kay?”

He started to go back, but you caught him by his wrist. “No, Buck, wait. You don’t have to do it right now, really. I have enough wood, and you’re really exhausted. Come in; I have fresh lasagna and chocolate muffins.” 

“Um—are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to.” He mumbled. You noticed that you were still holding his wrist, but decided to leave it that way. 

“Don’t worry, I have enough food, and you look like you really need it. C’mon, don’t you want to eat something homemade and still hot after a bad day at work?” You gave him your best smile, and it was obvious in his eyes that he already agreed to your idea. 

“Okay, we can do that. Honestly, I feel like I’m able to eat a fucking elephant.” 

You both shared a laugh before you almost dragged him into your house and closed the door. Only at that moment did you realize that even though you gave Bucky a lot of food, he had never been at your place before. For some reason, you felt really excited to feed him and spend some time together. 

“Sit here while I’m heating the food.” Bucky obediently took a seat, looking with a soft smile at how you were moving around in your little kitchen.

You looked so domestic and soft in the warm yellow lights of the room in the cute pink cotton dress with little flowers all over it. The concentration was written all over your face as you tried to perfectly set plates and cutlery on the table and then put steaming lasagna on it.

“Fuck, it smells so good; you’re going to kill me, doll.” He wasn’t able to handle the amazing smell of food right in front of him. 

Your cheeks heated, and you waved your hand at him. “It’s just lasagna, Buck; don’t be dramatic.” You took a place near him, and you both started to eat your food. 

“I’m not being dramatic. I already told you that, besides my ma, you have the best food in the world. I could’ve eaten it three times a day for the rest of my life and not gotten tired of it.” He took another big bite, moaning as the taste filled his mouth. 

“You’re making me blush. No one ever told me this.”

“That’s my intention, doll. What, none of your boyfriends complemented your skills? Because I would’ve put the ring on that finger way too fast.” You looked at each other for a few seconds until you noticed that he had already finished his portion. 

“Do you want more?” Ignoring his previous words, you stood up and took his plate to give him some extra food. The dress gently flew around your thighs, drawing Bucky’s attention to your legs when you turned around. “Anyway, what happened at work? You mentioned your boss.”

“Ugh, Pierce is a fucking dipshit. Everyone there hates him, but he has too much money, so we can’t do anything. Me and Steve have really been on bad terms with him since the first day. He tries to tell us how to do our work, but his head is so far up in his ass that he can’t even listen to what we say.” You returned to your place and put a plate in front of Bucky again. The frown took place on his face while he was talking about Pierce, so you put a hand on top of his without even thinking. 

“He sounds like a total asshole. I’m sorry that you guys have to work for him.” Bucky’s face softened at your action. He flipped his hand so he could interlace your fingers, and you felt the warm feeling all over your body. 

You both definitely felt something, but you still stayed silent, enjoying the connection. It was obvious that you had feelings for each other. It was just hard to admit out loud, and, honestly, Bucky was so scared that you might think that he did all of this just to get into your pants. Which is not true. Well, he doesn’t mind, but it’s not his only intention. He wants to treat you right and ask you out on a date. 

Back then, he felt so bold and offered to help you with the firewood with the hope of getting to know you better. Steve and Sam obviously knew about his new “work” and teased him about it all day long. Unfortunately, he still didn’t find the right moment to ask you out. Those times when he came to you on Friday evenings and you were watching him work in your cute dresses or little pajamas were Bucky’s favorites. You looked so soft, cozy, and domestic that he wished to see you like this every day. 

After the last piece of a chocolate muffin disappeared in Bucky’s mouth and he let out a moan of satisfaction, he sat in your kitchen with closed eyes and a smile on his face. 

“If I had to have a shitty day just to get this type of meal at the end of the day, I’m ready for it.”

“Bucky!” You laughed at his dramatic words. “You don’t have to have a bad day. I can feed you just because.” 

“Well, you said it yourself. Now you won’t get rid of me.” You both laughed. Then he suddenly got up and started to put plates in the sink. “You sit, and I’ll wash the dishes.”

“No, Bucky, that’s not how it works!” You got up and caught him by his bicep. Really hard and big bicep. 

“Yes, it is. You’re cooking, then I’m cleaning.” He tried to get away from your grip to turn on the water, but you only held him stronger, now with both of your hands on his arms. 

“Bucky.” When he was standing so close to you, you realized your size and height difference, and it made you shiver. You turned your head up to look him in the eyes. “You are my guest; you shouldn’t do this.”

“My mother taught me to always help women because they are not our maids.” He stepped a little bit closer. “But if you’re saying this only because you want me to leave, I can do that.”

You were both looking at each other, and what you saw in his eyes made you weak in the knees. 

“No, no, I don’t want you to leave.” Your hands moved higher and fell on the sides of his neck. It was everything Bucky needed to finally kiss you.

Two large and rough hands took your face to bring your lips closer to Bucky’s height. He was gentle yet so passionate, and he slowly moved his lips against yours. It was mind-blowing how desperately you wanted him to devour you, to destroy you. While your hands were discovering his broad chest and shoulders, you felt that your body was suddenly lifted in the air and then placed on the kitchen counter.

Now that Bucky didn’t have to lean over to your height, it was easier to kiss you properly. His tongue brushed over your lips to ask for entrance, which you happily gave. Bucky felt too addicted to your taste, your smell, and the feeling of your smaller body against him. It drove him crazy.

“I've wanted to do that since the day I looked at you.” The hands on your hips tightened and moved you closer to his body. “You look so pretty, God.” Bucky’s eyes are running all over your face, trying to memorize every little thing.

“Bucky...” You dragged him closer again, desperate to connect your lips. His large hands wandered all over your body, slightly pulling up your dress and then moving higher and cupping your breasts in them. “I thought you were tired.” His large erection was obvious through his jeans, and you wanted to tease him. 

“I’m never tired for you, doll.” He mumbled against your lips. “I could’ve fucked you right on this table, but I’ll leave it for the next time. Where’s your bedroom?” You didn’t miss the promise to fuck you again, and your body felt ecstatic just because of this thought.

“Up the stairs, second door from the right.”��

Bucky didn’t say a word before your world suddenly moved, and you ended up hanging from his shoulder. Your bare ass was probably right near his face, and you couldn’t help but blush. 

He stormed up the stairs with one hand on your thigh, as if your weight on his shoulder was nothing, and then walked into your main bedroom. 

You were thrown onto your bed, and Bucky stayed in front of you for a few seconds to remember this picture. Swollen lips, eyes full of need, a short dress that pulled up and showed a glimpsing of your white underwear. Yes, you were perfect, and only for him. 

“Come here, Buck.” You raised your hands in his direction, and he obediently climbed on top of you with a smirk on his face.

He sat between your legs, moving his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs.

“Such a pretty doll for me, in this cute lil’ dress, mm?” His body was hovering over you, and when he found a zipper on the back of your dress, you ended up lying under him only in your white lingerie set in less than a minute. 

The pair of the most beautiful blue eyes devoured your naked body as soon as the piece of clothing was removed, and you had never seen a man look at you this way. Like you were the most beautiful, delicious, and priceless thing in the world. Bucky’s hands gently touched your body from the shoulders to your legs, and you swear that you heard a moan while he was doing it.

“Sweetheart.” He mumbled and leaned to gently kiss the soft skin of your belly, moving with little kisses higher until he reached your lips. “You’re killing me, you know that?” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Barnes.” It was impossible to think straight when his pretty face was right in front of you and his muscular body pushed you deeper into the mattress of your bed. He kissed you as you asked, but it didn’t last long before he pulled away with a grin on his face. You gently brushed his brown locks out of his face and tucked them behind his ears.

“So bossy, dollface... Do I have to fuck this attitude out of you?”

“Mmm, undress, and we’ll see what you are capable of.” You shot back at him, and he just moved away with a smirk on his face. 

In a few seconds, a red henley was thrown somewhere on the floor, and you were face to face with a body that was probably made by the Greek gods. Muscles on muscles, with tanned skin and freckles from the work under the sun. Now you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

“Like what you see?” His smirk became wider as he saw the look on your face: slightly parted lips and darkened eyes that were looking at him up and down. Bucky's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, and with the last movement, he was standing in your almost dark bedroom completely naked. 

You almost choked on your saliva when he pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time. He was thick and long, with an angry red head. 

“No way this is gonna fit me…”

“It will, doll. I’ll take care of it. I bet this pretty little pussy will just suck me in.” 

It was over for you. You knew that. A handsome, respectful man with a perfect body and dirty mouth? Yes, he can do whatever he wants with you.

He returned to your bed, sitting in between your spread legs. He didn’t waste any more time when he reached behind your back and unbuttoned your bra. Bucky stood on his knees so perfectly that his dick landed on your covered pussy, and it made you both moan out loud. 

“Look at this, doll. ‘M gonna destroy her.” His hips slightly moved, and because your panties were soaking wet, it was so smooth and perfect. “Can you imagine that? I will stretch you out so well that I’ll ruin any other men for you. Make you–and her– mine.” He reached with one of his hands to your tits and squeezed your nipple between his fingers, while the other one was keeping your legs apart so he would be able to move his hips. 

You tried to close your legs by instinct. The tip of his cock again and again brushed right on your clit, and the slight pain from your nipple made you desperately moan and clench your bedsheets.

“Are you going to cum, pretty girl? Im not even inside of you, and you’re already a fucking mess.” Bucky’s rough voice was so sexy that it made you even wetter, if that was possible. He saw that you were close: by the way your breathing changed and how your eyes rolled back in your head. “C'mon, just let it go. Soak those panties even more.” His movements on your most sensitive parts of the body didn’t stop, and it threw you over the edge.

You were squeezing around nothing, and the most inappropriate and dirty moan escaped your mouth. It was something that you'd never experienced before, and it was so intense that you needed some time to get over it.

“Good girl.” Bucky grabbed your face and connected your lips, giving you another wet and sloppy kiss. 

Then, without hesitation, Bucky’s hands took off the last piece of your clothing, leaving you completely naked for his hungry eyes. He stared at your body up and down for a few seconds and then closed his eyes to take a deep breath and calm himself down. 

“Bucky, please, I need you so much.” You almost cried, trying to grab him and put his body on top of yours, but Bucky was much larger than you, so it was almost impossible.

Bucky finally calmed down a little bit, and he interlaced his right hand with your left, pinning it above your head. His body softly landed on you, and skin-to-skin contact sent shivers down your spine. He was now looking you right in the eyes, and judging by his facial expressions, he either wanted to fuck you lifeless or cuddle and hold you closely.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Bucky’s soft side came out again, and you slightly nodded, giving him permission to continue. The little silver square appeared in his hand out of nowhere before he ripped the package with his teeth and put a condom on. 

You honestly tried to hold back the little bit of disappointment you felt when he decided to use protection. It was smart. You weren’t longtime partners, it was a question of your safety. But the tiny voice in your head told you that you would’ve let him fuck you without it. To feel his perfect d–

Your thoughts were cut off with a deep chuckle. “You look like you’re sad that I put on a condom, doll.” You swear that his eyes darkened when you stayed silent. “If you want it later, I’ll fuck you raw, ‘kay? But now neither of us can think straight.” 

“Are you a perfect man?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, let’s find out.” Your smile faded as soon as you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so when Bucky started teasing you again, rubbing you up and down to cover himself in your slick, you nearly lost it. 

“Bucky, please.” You whine, grabbing the side of his torso with your free hand. “Don’t tease me, please, I can’t—” 

Your words died as Bucky finally pushed inside of you. Your head fell deeper into your soft bed, and Bucky’s body tensed on top of you, trying to hold back a deep moan. 

It was overwhelming. He stretched you out so deliciously that you felt pain and inexplicable pleasure. No one ever made you feel this way—like you were on cloud nine and the man on top of you didn’t even actually fuck you yet. 

“You’re squeezing me so hard that I might cum like a teenager—fuck!” He groaned, squeezing your hand harder. “Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to relax as much as you could with a dick buried deep inside of you, and Bucky was finally able to move.

Well, if it felt good earlier, then the first movement of his hips probably sent you right to heaven. Bucky cupped your face with his left hand, locking your eyes together, when he started thrusting at a slow pace. 

“So pretty for me, doll. You feel my cock in your stomach, huh?” Bucky’s lips almost touched yours when he talked, but it felt like he was too far away from you. “Good girl, take me so well. Knew that this pussy would be my death.” 

“More... harder, please, fuck me harder.” You spoke in between moans, gazing intently at Bucky's pretty face.

He started fucking you harder. Your bed was slamming your wall, but it didn’t bother you as much as the fact that he was hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You were a fucking whining mess under him, with a slightly open mouth and a drunk-looking face.

“Suck it like a good girl you are.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, and you moaned, doing as he said. “Your pussy is already sucking the shit out of me. Are you going to cum, baby? Going to make a mess on my cock while I fuck you? Imagine if I fucked you raw and filled you up with my load. I bet you’d like that.” The finger went deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You nodded your head as much as you could at Bucky’s words because you were already ready to cum.

“Give it to me, baby.” Bucky growled, sucking on your neck. His hips slammed into yours, making the nastiest noise, but it turned you on even more. A finger slipped out of your mouth, and Bucky’s face was in front of you again. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“M-m, B-bucky! Don't stop, pl– ahhh!” The wave of the best orgasm of your fucking life washed over you. You swear the stars started dancing behind your closed eyes as you endlessly squeezed Bucky’s cock and his body.

The way you were moaning, how your eyes rolled back, and how your whole body trembled pushed Bucky over the edge. A few last movements in your soaking wet pussy and he came, feeling almost lifeless, as if you had sucked the whole energy out of him.

He let go of your hand, which this whole time he held above your head, and cupped your face with both of his hands, kissing away the tears you didn’t even notice.

“Y/N? Baby? Are you okay?” He whispered and moved your head a little bit so your eyes were directed at him. You looked like you were high or really drunk, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that you were the prettiest woman on earth.

“I– it’s like I don't feel my body anymore.” You lazily mumbled and closed your eyes. “No one ever fucked me like this.” 

“Glad to hear that, doll.” Bucky leaned closer and kissed your soft lips with more delicacy and tenderness. “Do you need anything? Food, water, bath?”

“No… Can you just hug me and stay here for the night?” You asked, now afraid that he would leave since he got what he wanted.

“Sure, just let me get rid of this thing, and I’ll still get you some water.” He kissed you on the forehead before carefully untangling his body from yours. You hissed at the new empty and a little bit aching feeling inside of you. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

Bucky threw a condom in the basket under your table and, putting on only his boxers, came down to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water. But when he came back, he saw that you had already fallen asleep.

You looked so cute—still naked, with a peaceful expression on your face, laying in the middle of your messy bed. He thought about whether he should disturb your sleep or not, but you asked him to stay, right? Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then came closer to you, placed the bottle on the nightstand, and carefully scooped you into his hands, pushing away the covers. He put you back down, and then you opened your eyes. 

“C’mere…” You mumbled, still sleepy, and grabbed his hand.

Bucky quietly chuckled and got under the cover, hugging you from the back. You happily sighed before drifting back to sleep. Bucky kissed you in the hair, hugged you harder, and fell to sleep with you in his arms.

You woke up a little bit disoriented, trying to figure out what happened last night. 

The bed beside you was empty, but the aching feeling between your legs proved that it wasn’t a dream. You, in fact, fucked your hot lumberjack neighbor. But where did he go?

You found some random oversized t-shirt and walked down the stairs. Everything was silent; your kitchen was empty but crystal clean. Did Bucky just leave? 

Wait a minute. 

Yesterday there was a mess from your cooking and dinner with Bucky.

Now the room was almost shining. 

You looked around in confusion until you noticed a piece of paper on the table. 

All of your bad thoughts disappeared as soon as you read it, and you felt butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #marvel smut #james buchanan barnes #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #lumberjack! bucky barnes

[downbadf0rficppl]

pink in the night

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Porn with a bit of plot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, soft Buck, SMUT!!!!

AN: Sorry y'all! It's kinda a bit shit but listen, it's self-indulgent so idc :) This is kinda inspired by 'Pink in the Night' by Mitski which I was listening to while writing this. Have a good rest of the week, y'all <3

Repost

Bucky had a love-hate relationship with being your neighbour. On the one hand, he loved seeing your face as you left your room every morning, hair not yet slicked to perfection, and sleep still evident on your face. You seemed a lot more innocent in the morning - conversations more idle.

On the other hand - and perhaps as a downside to his more sensitive hearing - you drove him crazy with the knowledge of things that perhaps he wasn't supposed to know.

This night was no different. You had headed off to bed after a long day, bidding everyone in the kitchen a good night. You grabbed a water bottle before slipping into the elevator, Bucky not far behind. You stepped out of the elevator together and you wished him sweet dreams before slipping into your room. Oh, his dreams were going to be far from sweet.

You see, your beds were pushed up to opposite sides of the same wall, so he could hear you relax on your bed. He could hear you shuffle to strip into just your underwear, and how your hand slipped into your panties. He could hear how your breath hitched as you circled your clit, and your soft moans as you plunged your fingers into your cunt or as your vibrator dipped in between your folds.

He could almost envisage you doing it - a forbidden porno that took root in his mind every night that he heard you finger yourself to completion. The rosy pink flush that you would glow as you came all over your hand. Your heavy rise and fall of your chest as you came down from your high. The small smile that would adorn your face as rolled over to fall asleep - the oxytocin released coursing through your veins.

He felt disgusting as he did - one of those creeps that he intended to protect you from for the rest of his life. But after you'd fallen asleep, he'd hop into the shower to cool his body and his mind - to throw the detestable thoughts of you to the far corners of his mind. But as he fell asleep, you'd re-enter his mind in a different way. A more safe-for-work way. You'd be in his arms, cuddling him and whispering sweet words of encouragement. You'd be cooking him dinner while he told you funny stories about his life with scrawny Steve in the 40s; he'd be washing the dishes while you sat on the counter tell him about your day. He'd worry for your well-being - not as an overbearing coworker but as a loving, doting boyfriend. Maybe husband.

Bucky was getting ahead of himself - he'd have to work up the courage to have more than a few-word conversation with you. But for now, wishing he could hold your hand would have to suffice.

Being Bucky's neighbour was not much easier. Especially when he was completely oblivious to your plight. Even the slight brush of a hand made your heart flutter.

You loved seeing him early in the morning - he always seemed less reserved when he was fresh from a good night's rest. He was faster to smile, faster to laugh. It was nice. You woke up at an ungodly hour to see him just before he headed on his morning run. You couldn't deny that the morning light did wonders for him - you were always left wanting more when he dipped into the elevator.

Oh, and the sounds. Your hearing was not quite as superior as Bucky's, but you definitely heard things that left you clenching around thin air.

You knew Bucky wasn't one to self-complete often - in fact, it was rare that you ever caught on to the act. But you had caught the odd broken moan coming from his room. You turned into molten mush, the weight of your arousal buckling your knees. If there was any sound that could turn you to putty, it was that.

You didn't how many times the idea of Bucky fucking you had played through your mind, but each night a different variation brought you the same ending - your fingers deep in your cunt, coaxing you to a climax.

Every night, you wished his cock, tongue, fingers were filling you up instead of yours, leaving you aching and wishing for more. You wanted to run your nails down his back - leaving permanent reminders of your love for him - while he nipped at your neck - leaving marks claiming you as his.

Sometimes, your brain caught up to your thoughts, reprimanding you for your possessiveness. He wasn't yours, you had to remind yourself, even if you wished he was. For that, you'd have to actually have to have more than a few-word conversation with him - which to be honest, seemed impossible. So you stuck to your nightly wishful dreaming, hoping one day he'd be yours. Only yours.

Summer was the worst for Bucky. You were the type to spend hours upon hours out in the sun, coming back with a budding tan and rosy complexion - it did nothing to quell the budding images flashing in the back of his mind. You. Under him. Panting. Moaning his name as he brought you to the edge. Over and over again. Face glowing pink as you gaze up into his eyes, drunk on love and his cock. Bucky had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.

It didn't help that the clothing you wore did nothing to help his imagination. The semi-sheer tops, the shorts, the swimsuit and bikinis. Every time he saw you, he immediately had to duck back inside to deal with 'a little problem'. More like a very large, very hard, and very obvious problem.

Still, he enjoyed your company more than he had for the better part of his time living in the compound. He listened to your stories, your jokes, helped solve your issues. He felt that - even if you weren't quite what he wanted you to be - your relationship was blossoming into something quite beautiful. And that made him feel a lot braver - he introduced a little comment here and there, a hand always on your waist or the small of your back. He flirted with you from time to time: just to gauge a meter on your reactions, he'd tell himself, as if this was an experiment to crack a hypothesis that had been perplexing scientists for years.

The sun was peaking over the top of the trees surrounding the compound when you woke up. That was a rarity in summer, given that the sun rose at nearly 5am. Still, you didn't miss out on the opportunity to watch the sunrise, curling up on your windowsill with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

You heard Bucky opening his door, and you ran towards yours, grabbing your phone and slippers on your way. You opened your door just as he closed his. He was dressed in gym wear - as always - since he was going on his morning run around the compound track. It was a nice track - one that you rarely frequented - going in and out of the forest behind the compound, totalling about 4.5 miles in distance.

He took you in, eyes bulging as they raked over you. You looked down, following his gaze. Shit. In your rush to see Bucky, you'd forgotten that your nightwear had consisted of some flimsy shorts and your bra - that you had thrown on after waking up to save a modicum of dignity, should someone burst into your room. It was too hot for anything else. You crossed your arms over your chest, which indefinitely made the issue worse as Bucky's eyes lifted way over your head.

"Looking good, babe!" Nat yells, walking across the landing toward you both. Clearly, Bucky had been intending to go on a run with her, maybe fit in a quick sparring session. You sent them on their way, with a 'have fun' and 'don't have too much fun.'

As soon as you were back in the comfort of your room, Nat elbowed Bucky hard.

"Oww! What the fuck was that for?" Rubbing his metal arm, for the convincing act.

"Oh please, you big baby. You have a fucking metal arm, get over yourself." She looked down, "You have a bit of a situation going on down there."

He looks down, embarrassment flushing his cheeks bright red, and subtly tucked his hard dick into his waistband.

"You wanna go sort that out? I won't hold it against you," Nat said, hitting the button to call the lift, "I promise not to tell Stark. Scout's honour." She jokingly holds up 3 fingers. Bucky swats her arm gently.

"No point."

Nat gasps, "No way. Don't tell me Mr. Winter Soldier can't have sex."

"Not sex," Bucky mumbles, "Just jerking off. Can't seem to - you know - finish."

Bucky had a history with Nat. They'd known each other for years. That kind of history made this kind of conversation somewhat less uncomfortable.

Nat burst into laughter. So much for not being uncomfortable.

The lift stopped on Sam's floor. He stepped in, gazing warily at the scene in front of him: the Black Widow doubled over in laughter, and the Winter Soldier embarrassed and uncomfortable in the corner.

He begged to be let in on the joke. Nat wheezed between laughs, "He - can't - fucking - cum!" Bursting into another bout of laughter, with Sam close behind, Bucky jumps out on the next floor, heading to the roof for some fresh air. He catches you up there, trying out some morning yoga. He sneaks up behind you as your stand up, grabbing your waist. You shriek, hitting him hard in the chest, before melting into his embrace once your brain caught up to the situation.

"Not fair!" You pouted, pausing your peaceful music, "Yoga's supposed to be peaceful!"

Bucky chuckles, pulling you into another hug, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck.

"I thought you were going on a run with Nat?" You whispered into his ear, your cheek resting on his clavicle.

"She ditched me for Sam." Bucky opted to leave out the real reason why he had left Nat and Sam in pieces in the elevator.

"Sucks to be you, Barnes!" You laugh pulling away and stepping back onto your mat. "Now leave me alone - just 'cause your friends abandoned you, doesn't mean you can bother me."

Bucky pouted, causing you to laugh before you turned back to your Yoga. He stood there and watched you for a minute, before heading back down to the gym. He strung up a punching bag, before wrapping his flesh wrist. Bucky took all his pent-up aggression and frustration out on the punching bag, allowing no respite between each jab, cross, and hook.

He stayed in the gym for over 3 hours, working every bit of stress out of his body. By the time he left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and a long day of paperwork and training awaited. Bucky headed up to his room for a quick shower - washing all the sweat off his body.

He felt lighter heading downstairs for breakfast - the weight of his arousal pushed far back in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

Since deciding he would pursue you honestly, he couldn't seem to finish, no matter how hard he tried. You had been the only thing to push him over the edge - it seemed his body couldn't do it without you. It was frustrating beyond belief. He'd tried other things, porn, erotica, even thinking back to good times before the war. Nothing helped. It was as if his body was finetuned to you - only you knew the magic password to release him. Figuratively and literally.

When he reached the kitchen, he was privy to a welcome sight. You, in your combat gear, grabbing some granola bars before you jumped on the quinjet. You and Stark were heading on a surveillance mission in Guatemala for the week. You were reaching up to the top shelf, stretching on your tiptoes for the expensive granolas that had been kept on the top shelf. Bucky's granola bars that he had put there to stop anyone else from stealing them.

He reached up from behind you and grabbed the box, placing it in your hands. You looked guilty. You'd been caught red-handed.

"It's fine, doll. Take as many as you want." He said, leaning back against the counter, resting on his forearms. Your face flushed red as you grabbed 2 or 3, shoving them into your bag and turning around to fill up your water bottle.

You shivered when his hot breath fanned across your exposed neck, "Just remember that you owe me."

He was gone by the time you turned around.

The rumour had spread like wildfire while you were away.

"Did you hear that Bucky can't have sex?"

"I heard that Bucky can't - you know - cum?"

"Apparently, his time at Hydra fucked him up worse than he realised."

"He can't even masturbate you know?"

The rumours were getting out of hand, but he let them swirl. There was an ounce of truth to them, even if Hydra had nothing to do with his current predicament.

No, that blame could only lie with you.

When you got back, Bucky had just left on a 4-day-long mission with Sam - which meant you heard all the rumours and Bucky wasn't there to defend himself.

You heard it first when you dropped your suit off for dry-cleaning. One of the tech guys was whispering to Marta, the woman who looked after the dry cleaning of suits, about Bucky's apparent inability to ejaculate. You were shocked. Where the hell did they even get that information? You dropped off your suit and headed back up to your room to shower.

You then heard another mention of it when you went to drop off your reports. Two of the agents that were being reassigned to Steve's team - that were currently on a month-long mission in Chad - were gossiping outside Tony's office.

" - and apparently she ran out crying. Thought she wasn't good enough for him or something along those lines. I don't know."

"Yeah, apparently the breakup was grizzly."

"I feel bad for him you know, all of the shit he went through with Hydra, and now this?"

"Yeah, man, really sucks."

Your face blushed a bright red. What the fuck? Where did this rumour even come from? You knew for a fact that Bucky hadn't had a girlfriend since living in the compound so wherever that part of the rumour came from was completely untrue.

You had to get to the bottom of this.

You spent the better part of the next 2 days collecting bits of information from conversations between people around the compound. You found out that the rumour had originated from a conversation between Nat and Sam, which an agent had overheard while they were on their run. It had been twisted as most oral stories were leading to this big misleading idea that Bucky was unable to even get it up and that he was unable to please a woman. You were sure the latter part was untrue. You'd heard the way he moaned alone in his room - you were sure that you could cum just from his moans alone. He wouldn't even need to touch you.

You didn't think the rumour would affect you when Bucky got back. After all, you knew at least some of it to be false. But when he got back, his beard grown out a little because he couldn't shave it while he was away, you felt embarrassed. Not because of his supposed 'predicament' but because you felt as if you had found out something that you maybe weren't supposed to know.

Bucky caught on quicker than you would have liked. The night after he got back, Tony had thrown a little get-together to 'celebrate midsummer'. Realistically, Tony just wanted a reason to go out and drink with his friends. You had avoided Bucky most of the night - not necessarily intentionally, but Bucky still felt slightly hurt and more than a little confused.

He caught you alone on the balcony, looking out at the stars.

"Did I do something?" He said, sneaking up behind you and making you jump. Nervousness and insecurity laced his every move, worried that he had hurt you in some way that he couldn't possibly imagine.

You shook your head violently, scared to make eye contact with him. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"What's wrong?" You turned back to face the sky, embarrassment filling your chest. He laced his metal fingers into yours, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"It's stupid."

"No, it's not. Nothing's stupid, not if it's you." Your heart fluttered at his words.

Your eyes met his steady gaze, "It's really stupid." His eyes begged you to go on, "It's just that - um - when I got back I - um - heardthisreallystupidrumourandIshouldn'thaveletitgettomebutbasically -"

Bucky placed a hand on your waist, drawing small circles, "Breathe."

"Someone said you had trouble pleasing women." You let out quietly. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he probably would have missed you. His grip on your waist tightened, "Bucky?"

"Trouble pleasing women? That's a new one." His deep voice cut you to your core. You let out a small whimper as the arousal pooled in your panties.

Bucky didn't miss that either.

He grabbed your arm and led you through the party. No one gave you a double look as he lead you into the vacant elevator, slamming your floor number and pushing you up against the wall.

"Think I can't please a woman, huh? Think again. Don't think I don't know what you think about when you cum all over your hand, whining my name under your breath." You whined lowly at his words, feeling how he pushed his hard dick perfectly in line with your throbbing pussy, "Isn't that right, slut? That's what you are, aren't you? My perfect little slut?" You moan at his degrading statement, pushing your pussy further onto his cock trying to find some friction.

"So needy," He tutted, his condescending tone only heightening your arousal. The elevator door pinged and Bucky picked you up bridal-style, kicking the door to your room open. You regularly forgot to lock it while heading down to dinner - for once, both you and Bucky were glad.

He dropped you on your bed, unceremoniously, eyes raking over you ravenously. The heat rose up your face, as you shifted under his unrelenting gaze.

"Oh baby, you don't how long I've been waiting for this." He leaned down locking your lips in a passionate kiss. His palm landed just above your knee, caressing up your leg towards your upper thigh. His hand slid under your dress, cupping your ass. He left a light squeeze, making you gasp into the kiss.

He leaned down, grabbing you with ease, flipping you both so you were straddling his waist. He tangled his flesh hand in your hair, the metal one possessively gripping your hip. He brought you down to his lips for another kiss - even when you were on top, he made sure you knew that he was in charge.

He toyed with the hem of your dress, eyes raking over you once again.

"Off."

You pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. You felt seriously underdressed, especially considering Bucky was still in his jacket. He reaches up, joining your lips in another kiss, and reaching around to remove your bra. He tosses it to the side, running his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. You moan loudly, panties soaked. He takes his time pinching and squeezing your nipples, licking and biting as he went. The alternate sensations of one warm hand and one ice-cold heighten your arousal ten-fold. You buck your hips over his jeans, the sensation of his fly between your sensitive folds throwing you into overdrive.

His grip on your waist tightened once again. "I can feel your cunt throbbing, honey." You whimpered pathetically. "Go ahead, use me to get off. I know you want to."

Your hips started bucking off their own accord, clothed pussy running over the fly of his jeans. They started slow, getting a feel for what exactly you were doing. Bucky's hands started pushing you faster, setting a faster groove. The coil in your stomach began to tighten as your bucking became more erratic. You teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Bucky stopped you.

"Beg." He restarted your pace, faster and more erratic than before.

"Please, please, please, please, Bucky, please let me cum, please..-" You babbled, tripping and stumbling through your pleas. With a searing kiss, he gives you permission.

"I love you, I love you, I love, OH-" You fall off the edge of one of the hardest orgasms you've ever had, head empty with only one thing on your mind. Bucky.

You feel Bucky manhandle your body so your back is lying on the bed and he is towering over you. He asks you if you want to go on and all you can do is nod your head vigorously.

He chuckles, "I like your enthusiasm baby, but I need words. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, YES!" You shout, breathlessly, already needing more.

He's fully naked and it's all you can do to not stare. He's definitely a well-endowed man, and he definitely has no problem getting it up.

"Like what you see?" He smirks, and you slap his thigh playfully. He pulls you further toward the edge of the bed and lines his dick up with your slick folds. He slides in slowly, holding your chin up so you keep eye contact with him. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head in satisfaction. You've never felt so full in your life. He presses into you slowly, feeling the way your tightness engulfs him, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You whimper softly as he pushes in - you never realised just how desperate you were for him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He chuckles, watching as tears leak out of your eyes. His condescending tone was back, and all it did was make you hornier. You babbled incoherently, "Gone dumb already? What a cock-drunk little slut you are."

He trails a metal finger up the side of your torso, watching the goosebumps left in its wake. You whimper again.

"Such a needy little baby. Only I can take care of you like this, right? Only me."

"Only you." You affirmed, pressing a kiss to the arm near your head.

He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming all the way back in. You screamed in pleasure, and Bucky set a brutal pace. He pinned your arms above your head with his right hand, and his left hand came to wrap around your throat. The significance of that was not lost on you. He loved you enough to not hurt you, even with his metal arm.

"I love you, baby. You know that right?" Bucky looked you deep in the eyes, "You know I love you right?"

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," You babble back, lost in the throes of passion.

Bucky found your clit with his metal hand, pressing and flicking gently. You felt your muscles tighten for a second time, and you grabbed the sheets throwing your head back as you came harder than the first time.

Bucky came moments later, deep inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself into his neck.

He chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bear hug. You stayed like that for a minute before he untangled himself from you and carried you to the bathroom.

He turned on the shower and you both stepped under it, cleaning the sweat and cum off your bodies. Your legs felt like jelly, so you leaned heavily into Bucky as he washed you off.

"Stay awake, doll, just for a second," He said, shaking you awake each time you dozed off in the shower.

Bucky pulled some of your clothes onto your body, before setting you down on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before promising to be back soon.

He snuck into his room wrapped in a towel, before throwing on the first pair of sweats he could find and dashing to the kitchen for a cup of water.

He snuck back into your room, to see you already dead asleep on the bed. He slipped under the covers, tugging you closer to his chest, and smiled.

Through your grogginess, you nuzzled into his chest. "I love you." You whispered, your lips resting against his heart.

You woke up to the sound of soft snoring in your ear and sunlight streaming through the window. You smiled. You untangled yourself from Bucky's arms, disappearing into your bathroom to pee. You wash your face and brush your teeth before diving back into Bucky's arms.

Your legs were still sore from last night, but you didn't care. You were Bucky's and Bucky was yours. The very thought put a massive smile on your face.

"What's tickled your feather this morning?" Goddamn, his morning voice was sexy. You smiled and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

Bucky smiled through the kiss. He picked you up by the thighs, carrying you while he brushed his teeth and splashed his face.

The compound was pretty silent, barely anyone was awake after drinking the night away. So, while Bucky made you pancakes for breakfast, you asked him the question, "Hey, Buck, where did the rumour come from?"

He looked at you, vaguely embarrassed, "You know that day, when me and Nat were gonna go down to train?"

You face flushed red, "When I walked out in my underwear?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "I got a hard-on, like a teenage boy."

You stifled a laugh.

"So, Nat said, do I wanna go deal with it? And I told her I couldn't."

You looked at him confused, "Why not?"

"Cause of you," he said simply. You looked at him even more confused, "You were the only thing I got get off to. I tried everything else. Porn, erotica, even thinking about old sex. Nothing worked."

You flushed red again. "Oh god, I've weirded you out, haven't I?" You broke off his impending spiral with a kiss.

"I love you." You said, placing a kiss on his bare chest.

He looked at you with such love and reverence that you felt like you might combust under his gaze.

He kissed you again and all you could think was, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

I love you, I love you, I love you.

I love you I love you I love you.

fin.

buy me a coffee

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bukcy barnes #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #bucky imagine #bucky smut

[goodgirlofglory]

Occupied / One-shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2,5k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral (m recieving), blowjob, balls-worship, handjob, a smidge of painplay (concerning the aforementioned balls), some d/s undertones (with Bucky being a sweet subby boy and loving being manhandled), exhibitionist kink, semi-public sex (they're in the loo with a lot of people outside), cumshot in mouth, swallowing cum, a little cum in hair (lol)

Summary: You have dragged Bucky into the handicapable toilet on the main floor of the administrations floor of S.H.I.E.L.D and intend to swallow his cock. Who is he to say no?

Note: Hiyaaa, this is just a short, cheeky little something for those who have a sweet tooth for subby simpy Bucky (ie ME)💞 This excists in the same universe as Ambrosial, my first Bucky fic, and happens sometime after Bucky and reader start getting real comfortable with each other🥰 Hope you enjoy🦋

(Not betaread so all mistakes are mine and i kinda can't be arsed to care🤷‍♀️😘)

Replies, reblogs, likes and asks are amazing💫💕

«Hnngh!»

The choked groan escaped Bucky’s gritted teeth despite his uttermost efforts to keep it in. A low hum came in answer from below, either in agreement or appreciation - or a mix of both. Bucky could hear the continuous buzz of people milling about outside the handicapped toilet. He didn’t really need his enhanced hearing to hear how busy it was, but his heightened senses almost made it seem like the crowd was inside the room with the two of you. It was on the main floor of the administration's wing for God’s sake - and you were on your knees at Bucky’s feet, softly nuzzling the hard bulge that had formed in his pants during the last thirty seconds since you pulled him into the single lavatory room and flipped the lock to “occupied”. 

Oh who was he kidding, he’d been sporting a semi since you gave him that low-lidded glance in the strategy meeting an hour back. He would recognise that look anywhere, anytime and it always went right to his cock like an adrenaline shock. Now all his blood was rushing south so fast he almost felt faint. Faint with anticipation at what you apparently intended to do mere meters away from the whole administration of S.H.I.E.L.D – and faint with nerves at you doing this mere meters away from the whole administrations office of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Fuuuck,” Bucky grated out, biting his fist to stop himself from groaning louder as your nimble fingers undid his pants and let his cock bounce free of its restraints. Bucky’s breath was out of fucking control, huffing unevenly as his muscles ached to grab at you, to bring you closer, to bend you over the sink or throw you over his shoulder and make the escape to one of your rooms. He wasn’t really picky about the places he took you, but this? This was kind of insane, even for him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it, he fucking lived for your hands on his body, and your mouth on his cock was the highlight of any week whenever you graciously gifted it to him. But…but shit, this was really fucking close to a lot of fucking people, and Bucky was always way too fucking loud for this kind of sneaking around. Sweat beaded his brow as he strained to keep still and keep quiet, burning arousal mixing with anxiety to a heady concoction inside him.

You didn’t seem to share his concerns at all, slowly taking his shaft in your hand, pumping his foreskin up and down his cock languidly, staring hungrily at his leaky head like it was your favorite thing in the world. Your cheeks were flushed pink, your eyes wide and blown out with lust and oh god, you looked so fucking good on your knees like that, the sight made Bucky’s own knees wobble. He reached out with his hand to clutch the shelf of extra towels and toilet paper next to him, the wood groaning in protest at his grip.

“Y-you sure about this?” he asked for probably the half-dozenth time, voice low and gravelly even as he tried to whisper.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, shining with mischief, and you nodded, a sickly sweet “mhm” sounding in your throat. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck, Bucky could deny you nothing when you did that. When you looked so cute and excited. When you so sweetly – and literally – took him by the cock and simply let him know you would have your way with him now. There was no way he would stop you on his own, he was completely powerless against you and his cock throbbed in your hand at the knowledge.

You leaned forward and Bucky stared helplessly as you stretched your pink tongue out and licked over where a thick drop of precum beaded at the tip of his cock, eyes looking up at him. His breath rushed out of him at the sensation, your wet and soft mouth closing around the head of his cock. Shivers wracked up his spine and he clutched the shelf tighter to ground himself as the pleasure coursed over him like a tidal wave, goosebumps rising on the back of his neck at the way you teased his sensitive tip with your tongue - the way that made his jaw go all slack and his mind quiet down to a pleasant buzz, empty of all but you, you, you. 

It hadn’t taken Bucky long to realize you had a little exhibitionism kink in you. Nothing seemed to turn you on more than the threat of being caught. Or maybe it was the way Bucky got flustered and nervous at the risk of being caught that excited you. Maybe you were a sadist. If so, Bucky might be a masochist, for his cock was never harder than when he was fraught with the anxious anticipation of the humiliation at being caught with his cock out. The one thing that helped was that he couldn’t stave off his orgasm for very long whenever you went to your knees for him. It was like his cock went into overdrive and pounced over the edge like a freight train. He could feel it now, his balls tingling already, drawing closer to his body just from the sheer image of you taking his cock further into your mouth, lovingly and thoroughly laving it in spit and dragging your swollen red lips over it again and again, letting the head move to the back of your mouth and tickle your throat.

You swirled your tongue around his head on the way back, kissing his slit with an open mouth and a lot of tongue and Bucky’s head thumped back into the tiles of the wall.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he growled low as his hips bucked in your hand, cock seeking your mouth.

“You have to be quiet, baby,” you murmured from below, seemingly completely calm and collected, a teasing lilt in your voice.

You might’ve fooled Bucky into thinking you were unaffected if it wasn’t for the mouth-watering scent of your arousal permeating the air, drifting up to clog Bucky’s nose, adding to the sizzling goosebumps spreading all over his skin. The scent that drove him mad. His very own private aphrodisiac. The air was thick with it now, making his cock throb again as it anticipated the tight, wet heat of your cunt, Bucky’s very favorite place to bury it.

Bucky raked his hand through his hair, laughing helplessly and a bit deliriously, a raspy, thin wheeze.

“Fucking e-easy for you to say, doll. You’re not about to ex-explode,” Bucky choked out in a whisper, tugging on his own hair to try and gain some semblance of control over his body. Explode or implode, he couldn’t really be sure. Having to be quiet like this had him so wound up he feared he’d have a heart attack if his enhanced body would allow it.

“I’m not?” you quietly murmured after a moment, words muffled by the way your mouth moved down his shaft in sloppy kisses while you massaged his cockhead in your fist.

Bucky bit back a moan, the image of you coming from sucking him off filling his mind, picturing your pussy drooling and clenching around nothing, soiling your panties while he soiled your face. Bucky inhaled a broken gasp, grabbing the sink to his left with his metal arm, holding on for dear life as your mouth reached his ballsack, greedily sucking a testicle into your wet, hot mouth and –

“Holy fuck, just like that, please,” Bucky begged shamelessly, eyes clenching shut as his whole frame shuddered. The way you massaged his ball with your tongue had him nearly crumbling to the floor in pleasure.

You hummed in appreciation and/or agreement again, and the light vibrations it sent through his balls had his cock spitting precum into your hand.

“Ah shit, yes,” he groaned, voice coming out raspy and growling and you popped off his ball to grab his sack with your free hand just a bit too tightly. Pain shot up Bucky's body.

“Quiet,” you admonished.

Bucky felt himself go all loopy with the mix of pain and pleasure, mouth hanging open, panting, and his sight slightly hazy, the most mind-blowing sensations wracking around his body. Oh yeah, he might just be a masochist. You were definitely a sadist, and Bucky felt simultaneously exhilarated and completely safe and calm as you manhandled him. He fucking loved it when you took control, when you toyed and teased and used him exactly as you pleased. He never felt more seen or content or well-loved as when you were like this. It was almost overwhelming and at the same time so intoxicating, he couldn’t help but need more.

You returned your lips to his balls, taking the other testicle into your mouth, suckling on it while your hand worked the spit and precum around the purple head of his cock faster and faster.

He was already so close, he bit his lips to keep from groaning and the sink and shelf held tightly in his hands groaned instead from the way his grip tightened as he barreled down towards release.

Your thumb brushed against his frenulum and white-hot pleasure shot up his spine. Fuck, he was going to cum, he was –

Your thumb stroked up and teased the hole on the tip of his dick and the wooden shelf shattered in his grip as he pommeled over the edge. He had no time to warn you, choking on air as he was before cum shot out of his cock and splayed in a stripe over the top of your head. You reacted quickly, popping your mouth off his ball and immediately putting it over the head of his cock, catching the next spurt of cum inside your mouth. The tip of your tongue stroked his frenulum and spitting hole, coaxing the cum to shoot out in pulse after pulse. Bucky’s body shuddered violently, eyes clenching shut and mouth opening to choke on air. Fuck, you always made him cum so fucking hard it was almost painful.

Your hand stroked his shaft, wringing the orgasm out of him. The sink gave a screeching groan as his metal hand bent the steel, and Bucky’s body trembled like a leaf as his orgasm diminished and then mellowed out to a pleasant, numbing buzzing deep in his very bones.

You gently released his cock, still hard and twitching faintly, giving the tip a loving kiss before getting to your feet elegantly. Bucky still panted like a dog when you pulled him by his shirt down to kiss him on his mouth. He eagerly parted his lips to your prodding tongue, and though he found you’d swallowed every bit of cum you’d sucked from him, he could still taste the faint, salty essence of himself on your tongue. It made him hot all over again, his cheeks flushed with heat at the intimate knowledge of what you’d so generously done for him, his chest warming with a satisfied, preening sort of possessiveness. God, you were such a fucking gift and Bucky still questioned what good he had done in his life to deserve you…

Breaking the kiss, you gave Bucky a slow, pleased smile, hand absently reaching down to hold his still hard cock in a gentle, distinctly casual grip. It had Bucky flushing for entirely new reasons. He was almost embarrassed to admit how much he liked you holding him so proprietarily, with such confident ownership, like he was nothing but an extension of your own natural form.

Your eyes caught on something off to the left and then widened comically. Bucky followed your gaze and saw the unnatural, twisted shape of the sink basin he’d clutched while coming. He carefully opened and extracted his vibranium hand from the tangle of molded metal, an almost comical hand print left behind.

“I’m fairly certain this is incriminating evidence,” you teased, not bothering to keep the wicked glee out of your voice. 

Bucky shot you a glare, and he knew his cheeks must be blazing red. People might not catch on to the specifics of the situation the sink was ruined in, but they would definitely know it was him (there weren’t many people on the base capable of bending steel with their hands and no one would suspect America’s golden punk Steve before Bucky). Furthermore he would look like a half-animal with little to no self-control. Which, admittedly, he kinda was around you. But still!

You giggled at Bucky’s glare and planted a kiss to his chest before quickly washing your hands in the sink that now looked more like one of those modern art sculptures you insisted on showing Bucky whenever you went into the city. Picking up your phone, you tapped it a couple of times before putting it back in your pocket.

“Nat’s on the case,” you said with an easy-going smile as you looked back up on Bucky. You turned to leave, spotting yourself in the mirror above the sink and quickly wiping some of Bucky’s cum out of your hair and away from the corner of your mouth while Bucky stared, transfixed by it, not really surprised when his cock gave a twitch of interest at the sight. Just when you turned to slip out, Bucky caught you around the wrist and pulled you back against him, nuzzling your neck from behind while pushing his half-hard cock against your tights-clad ass. 

“What about you?” he murmured as he kissed the spot just below your jaw he knew was extra sensitive. He could still smell how wet you were, and brought his hand forward and down to cup you between your legs. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as he felt the heated, damp clothing covering your cunt. Your breath hitched and you grinded down into his hand for a moment before turning your head to whisper against his mouth. 

“Meet me at mine? I’m free the rest of the day,” you said, breath tickling Bucky’s cheek and he shivered, cock starting to harden for real again at the proposition. He bit down on your shoulder to keep from growling outright. You were a too fucking perfect.

He nodded against your skin, still collecting himself from the onslaught of lust your invitation brought forward - he was gonna fucking ruin you for this, that was a promise. You nuzzled his cheek and giggled softly, before promptly slipping out of his arms and then the toilet, leaving him to make his own exit of profound embarrassment. Bucky stayed put until Nat came and rescued him God knew how many minutes later, giving him a knowing look that made his face heat like a fucking furnace. He had to keep himself from outright sprinting to your room, all the while plotting all the different ways he was going to make you cum before even slipping his cock inside you. It was gonna be a long night. 

Bucky did ruin you, getting back at you quite thoroughly. Even so, Bucky had to duck his flushing face for days after as he passed the handicap toilet with it’s promptly made “out of use”- sign, both out of humiliation of what you’d so obviously done in there, and from the memory of how fucking good it’d felt.

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x f!reader #Bucky Barnes x y/n #The Winter Soldier fanfiction #The Winter Soldier fanfic #The Winter Soldier x reader #The Winter Soldier x you #The Winter Soldier x y/n #The Winter Soldier x f!reader #Ambrosial #Occupied #Bucky Barnes smut #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes smut

[sjsmith56]

Brother - Chapter 1, Eyes of the Father

Summary: Taking place after the events at the destruction of the helicarriers a young woman writer finds an injured man in her garage and decides to help him.

Length: 4.7 K

Characters: Named female OFC (described physically but she doesn’t consider herself pretty), named OMC - her brother who’s in trouble, named OMC - FBI agent, recurring character, Bucky Barnes (beefy, long hair).

Warning: Mourning for dead relatives, mistrust of FBI agent, OFC struggling financially. Reference to drug use.

Author notes: There is a long time arc with this story, with some jumps forward being made. Updates will be twice a week.

🏡 🔨 📚

Late 2014.

The sweat kept dripping into Lacey's eyes and she kept using her gloved hand to brush it off. Finally she had enough and she went into the small house, found a large rag and tied it over her forehead, smoothing her blond hair under the edge. She poured herself a large glass of water and stood over the sink, drinking the water down. Then she went back outside and continued to sand the old paint off of the window trim. She noticed some of the caulking coming off and she added replacing that to her list of things to fix on the old house that her grandfather had left her. The list, which had grown considerably from the day she took possession, had already overwhelmed her meagre savings and unless she sold another article was perilously close to being insurmountable. Still, she had inherited the Williams stubborn streak and remained convinced that she could turn this ramshackle abode into someplace she could live and write in peace. Her concentration was broken by the sound of a cough and she looked up to see her older brother, Tom, watching her.

"I heard that Grandpa left it to you," he said, as he stepped up onto the porch and ran his hand over the railing. She hadn't even heard his car when he drove into the yard. "What memories I have of this place. I liked him too, you know. He didn't leave me anything."

"You hadn't seen him in over five years," replied Lacey. "None of you had really. I was here every chance I could get, and I lived with him for a year while he was dying. Someone had to take care of him because he wouldn't go into a hospice."

"I'm not disputing that you don't deserve this," stated her brother. "I just wish you had reached out to me at least. I didn't know he was dying and I would have made an effort to help."

Lacey nodded. "What have you been up to?" she asked. "By the clothes and your car it would appear you're doing well."

He shrugged. "Being a stockbroker comes with financial rewards but it's a killer career," he admitted. "It's not what I planned to do with my life but I'm good at it so ...."

Lacey stopped and put the sander down. "Why are you really here, Tom?" she queried. "I'm pretty busy trying to fix everything Grandpa couldn't fix while he was sick."

"Let me help," he said. "No strings attached. You must have run out of money already and I know that the taxes are probably due soon. I have the money and if you let me I'll help with the work. It might help me begin to like myself again."

She looked at him. Out of her three siblings he was closest in age to her and they had got along for the most part. He bought her alcohol when she was underage, had been with her the first time she smoked pot, showing her how to roll the joint and properly inhale the smoke. They had drifted apart when he went to college and fell in with a rich crowd of friends. Looking closer at him she saw the lines in his forehead and the dark circles under his eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked, coming closer. "You don't look well."

He took a breath and looked around, trying to decide what to say. "I fucked up," he whispered. "I got involved with a shady deal and I'm terrified that if I'm not arrested someone is going to come looking for me and hurt me or worse. I need a place to hide out while I figure out what to do and you're the only one I trust. Please, help me."

Leaning against the railing his whole body deflated as if he had been keeping this terrible secret for so long it had overwhelmed him. Lacey looked at Tom, and noticed his hand shook as he lit a cigarette.

"We should put your car in the garage then," she said. "It's a dead giveaway ... sorry for the words."

He smiled grimly then hugged her desperately. "Thank you," he whispered. "I didn't know who else to turn to. Mom would have freaked out. Nancy is caught up in her divorce and Terry is ... well he's always been an asshole, hasn't he?"

A bitter laugh escaped Lacey's lips at the mention of their oldest brother Terry, who was an asshole. Blessed with exceptional athletic ability he had been drafted by the New York Giants and had forged a successful career as a wide receiver. He had also surrounded himself with a circle of like-minded friends who lived to hit the stripper bars and date starlets. Everything in his life was about him and keeping the gravy train going.

While Lacey opened the doors of the ancient garage Tom backed his car in, got his bag out, and together they closed the doors, locking them with a padlock. Her brother followed her into their Grandpa's house and she left him in the small, spare bedroom. In his condition she didn't think he could sleep in their grandfather's bedroom where he had breathed his last breaths but she had no qualms about it, having been with him at the end. She returned to the porch to continue sanding and was joined by her brother ten minutes later. He had changed into blue jeans and a T-shirt. Handing him a hammer and nails she asked him to nail down any loose boards on the porch. He smiled and got to it right away. They worked together without comment until they heard the sound of thunder and put the tools away just before it started to rain.

While Tom washed up Lacey fried up some burgers for them in the cast iron pan that she placed over the gas burner. She sliced some tomatoes and onions, broke apart some lettuce leaves and put the condiments on the table. Then she pulled out a couple of cold beers. Tom opened them and took a long drink from his bottle. They both made up their burgers and took a good sized bite, saying nothing except making contented noises as they chewed. Lacey finished chewing her second bite and looked at her brother.

"Who would want to hurt you?" she asked.

"The Russian mob," he said reluctantly. "I didn't know the deal was money laundering. It was one of my colleagues that asked me to set it up. When I found out I panicked. I took off and drove here."

"It's not like you stole their money, is it?" she looked him directly in the eyes.

He didn't make eye contact at first. "I put it into a secret account," he replied finally. "In case I decided to go to the police with it. I wanted proof of the money trail and I don't have that. So I'm screwed either way."

"Fuck," muttered Lacey. "Does your colleague know about me? Or any of us? You have to figure they might come after any one of us to force you into the open."

"I didn't think of that," he admitted. "Shit, I'm sorry. I should leave. Draw them away."

"Tom, just go to the police," she pleaded. "At least they can give you protection and they probably have forensic accountants who can help you with the money trail. If not the local police then the feds, FBI maybe."

"When did you become so smart?" he asked. "I never thought of that. Look, I'll stay here tonight and tomorrow I'll go to the FBI. I promise."

She searched his face, looking for any sign of lying but as far as she could tell he meant everything he said. After cleaning up the dishes Tom went into his room while Lacey sat in front of her laptop trying to write. She still tried to write 1000 words per day while she was working on the house, not wanting to get out of the routine. After a few hours she had enough and decided to go to bed. It was raining pretty heavily and she figured it would help with falling asleep. Gently she knocked on Tom's door and he opened it.

"I'm going to bed," she said. "I've turned everything off out here. I'll see you in the morning."

He hugged her. "You bet," he said. "Good night. I love you, little sister."

"I love you, too, big brother," she replied, and turned to her room.

Settling under the old quilt that her grandmother had made she listened to the sound of the rain hitting the roof and slowly drifted off to a deep sleep. She awoke before sunrise with a start, thinking she heard the sound of a car leaving. Getting out of the bed she went to Tom's room and found it empty. His bag was gone as well. On the kitchen table was a piece of paper with Tom's handwriting on it and five hundred dollars paper clipped to it. She put the overhead light on to read the note.

Lacey,

I'm going to the FBI with what I know. Hopefully, they believe me. I'm sorry for disappointing you and for running out before you got up but I was afraid if I saw you I would lose my nerve.

I'm glad Grandpa left you the house. You deserve it. You deserve so much.

I love you.

Tom

Stepping outside she walked across the damp grass to the garage and found it empty. He really had left and she suddenly felt sick, in a frightened sense. The padlock had been left open, with the key still in it, and she began to close the double doors when she heard a noise from inside. As quietly as possible she reopened one of the doors, stepped inside, and grabbed a shovel, holding it in both of her hands.

"Who's there?" she asked. "This is private property and you're trespassing. If you leave now I won't call the police."

Stepping further inside the dim interior she could feel her heart pounding. Then she saw him, a man moaning on the floor of the garage. He was a big man, dressed in jeans, boots, and wearing several layers of clothing as if he was cold, which he likely was as he was soaked. A back pack lay beside him. His long hair covered his face and he had several days beard growth on his face.

"Please," he said, raising his hand with his palm out. "I won't hurt you. I just needed a place to hide out of the rain until I got my strength back. I saw the man leave and he left the garage open. I didn't know you were here."

Slowly she approached him and kneeled down to see him better. She saw his leg was bleeding and that he had tied a belt on it to act as a tourniquet. His voice was soft and non-threatening. He moved his head and she saw a flash of blue eyes, the bluest eyes she had ever seen, even in the dim pre-dawn light.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"James," he said in that deceptively soft voice. "I just need to rest for a few hours then I'll be on my way."

She placed the shovel against the wall. "Come on, James," she said, offering her arms to him. "I have a first aid kit in the house. You need to get out of those wet clothes as well."

He began to protest but he saw the look on her face and he slowly got up, leaning on her as she helped him stand. His size surprised her. She guessed he was at least six feet tall but he seemed bigger with his broad shoulders. He grabbed his back pack with his left hand and put his right arm around her shoulder as she put hers around his waist. Slowly they walked out of the garage and into the house, where she helped him to the couch.

"I'm sorry to bother you but do you think I could have some water?" he asked politely, looking up at her with those blue eyes.

Lacey brought him a glass of water which he drained while she went to the bathroom, bringing out the first aid kit. He looked intently at her as she approached.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Lacey Williams," she replied. "I live here. The man was my brother, Tom. He's ... in trouble and is turning himself into the FBI. I'm guessing you're in trouble as well."

He smiled slightly and she saw a flash of white teeth. "Oh yeah," he replied. "Big trouble. That's how I got shot. Certain people want me back and I don't want to go back to doing what they made me do."

"Well, I'm not going to ask for details right now," she decided. "I'm going to have to rip your pants open to fix your leg. I can fix the pants but they need washing with all the blood that's on them. You could probably do with a shower as well ... no offence."

"None taken," he smiled again and she felt a sudden heat inside her at the sight of it. "If you help me to your bathroom, I can shower and remove the bullet myself. I've done it before. I'll take you up on washing my clothes, if that's not too much of an imposition. Then I'll be on my way."

"I have a robe you can wear," she offered. "It's old, belonged to my Grandpa. I keep it to remind me of him."

He nodded and she helped him to the bathroom, then brought the robe to him. "Thank you," he said softly, then he closed the door, opening it shortly after while wearing the robe. She saw a flash of something silver coloured and he changed his position, hiding his left hand from her. Handing her a bundle of clothing he nodded his thanks and closed the door. She heard the shower come on and she waited until it stopped before putting his clothes into the washer, not wanting to use up all the hot water. She looked down at herself and realized she was still wearing what she had worn to bed. She went in her room, locked the door and changed. There were no other sounds from the bathroom when she came out so Lacey began making some breakfast. Guessing he hadn't eaten for a while she made a lot and when he did come out in her Grandpa's robe his eyes widened at the spread she put out.

"I figured you were likely hungry," she said. "Go ahead. I don't mind. Did you get the bullet out?"

"Yes, I did," he answered as he sat at the table. "It will heal quickly."

She watched him as he ate. His long hair was slicked back over his ears, and she noticed that under the unshaven face he was really quite handsome. Even with just the robe on he was a big man; his broad shoulders and chest hinted at the muscular body she was sure was underneath. His manners were good. He commented on how tasty the food was and he was well on his way to eating all of it. She noticed he wore a glove on his left hand and stared at it for a bit drawing his notice.

"You're wondering about the glove," he said quietly. "I have an artificial arm and hand. It ... bothers some people."

"Why?" she asked. He stopped eating and for a moment she saw anxiety on his face. "I'm sorry. It's really none of my business."

"It's because of what I was," he finally said, after much deliberation. "What I was forced to do. The people who gave me this arm made it very distinctive, as a sort of calling card, I guess. It was supposed to make my targets afraid."

He had stopped eating and looked intensely at the surface of the table, as if he was afraid of revealing more. Lacey said nothing, but a thought had grown in her head and she took a deep breath. Was this soft spoken polite man really him?

"You're him," she said softly. "The assassin for HYDRA that everyone is looking for, Bucky Barnes."

The man still said nothing but his demeanour had changed to that of a man filled with regret and sadness. When he looked at Lacey she could see the pain in his eyes as he slowly nodded his head. "I meant what I said in the garage," he stated. "I'm not that man anymore and I won't hurt you. Once my clothes are clean I'll be out of here and you'll never see me again."

"Who shot you?" She had an idea but she wanted confirmation.

"HYDRA," he replied. "They're still looking for me, along with the CIA, who have shoot to kill orders on me. I was in New York, trying to find a ship to Europe I could stowaway on and they cornered me on the docks. I had to jump into the Hudson River and swim to Staten Island. It was a long way and cold but it was the only way to escape them in the dark. I made it, barely. I'll try to get on a ship in Philadelphia or Baltimore instead."

Lacey swallowed. It was November and this man had just told her he swam from New York to Staten Island with a bullet in his leg. He had said it so matter of factly that she had no doubt it was true. She tried to remember what she had read or seen on TV about Bucky Barnes. After Natasha Romanoff leaked HYDRA and SHIELD files there were investigative journalists who had been trying to find out more about this legendary assassin.

"You're really as old as they say you are?" she asked.

"I was born in 1917," he replied. "HYDRA kept me frozen between assignments so I barely aged. I'm still trying to sort out my memories from before but I remember a lot of what they did to me after the war. I wasn't a person to them. I was an ... asset, a weapon."

She began to gather the empty dishes from the table and he placed his right hand on one of hers. "Thank you for the meal," he said. "I hadn't eaten for some time. It will help my bullet wound heal faster."

His hand was hot, as if he had a fever and at first she was going to say something but she realized the heat was likely a byproduct of his treatment from HYDRA. It would explain how he could swim so far in cold water. She made an impulsive decision.

"You can stay for a while, Bucky," she offered, seeing him smile slightly as she used his name. "I have a spare room, although I'll have to change the sheets on the bed. This place is out of the way and no one should come looking for you here. I can check the internet and find a ship that's headed to Europe for you."

"Why would you do that for me?" he asked, puzzled. "You don't know me."

"Let's just say I empathize with your situation," she replied. "Everyone deserves a second chance. You're different than how they describe you."

"Okay," he agreed after being silent for some time. "Thank you, I'll stay for a while."

As she washed the dishes, he dried them and asked where they went. She put his washed clothes into the dryer and came back to see Bucky looking at the books on her shelf, holding one in his hand. He gestured to her Grandpa's LPs.

"You have some good music here," he noted.

She smiled and nodded her head. "They belonged to my Grandpa," she replied. "They kind of grew on me while I played them for him when he was dying."

Her face must have shown she was still grieving because he bowed his head slightly. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said. He raised the book he was holding. "You wrote this? Confessions of a Broken White Girl."

"My first," she replied. "It didn't sell a lot but it got some good reviews."

"Do you mind if I read it while I wait for my clothes to dry?"

"Go for it," she said, then headed outside to continue with the sanding of the window frames, tying the rag around her forehead again.

She sanded for some time then saw the flash of a silver hand reach for the sander and straightened up to see a fully dressed Bucky standing beside her. "I can do that for you," he offered. "It's a thankless job but my artificial hand can take more abuse than your hand can."

Handing him the sander she saw he was right. With his artificial hand he could put more pressure on it.

"Did you finish the book?" she asked.

"No, but I liked what I read of it," he said. "Reminded me a little of Virginia Woolf except for the fact she used stream of consciousness in her writing and yours was more straightforward."

"You've read Virginia Woolf?" she asked sceptically.

"I've read a lot," he replied. "I initially read some women writers to impress college girls before the war but I did get something out of it."

"You remember that?" Lacey said sarcastically. "What did you get out of it, sex?"

He laughed and his perfect smile was very prominent. "Touché," he said. "I'll admit that I had a bit of a reputation."

Lacey laughed as well. At least he was honest. He finished sanding all the windows and asked what he could do next. Before she could say he tensed and listened, tilting his head slightly.

"You have company," he said. "Several vehicles by the sounds of it. If you don't mind I'm going to make myself scarce but I'll be nearby. I just don't want to risk being caught."

"Go," she said decisively.

She turned towards the road and didn't even hear him leave. Picking up the hammer she started looking for loose nails on the railing and hammering them back in. About a minute after Bucky left three dark vehicles pulled up and several big men with dark suits and wearing sunglasses got out of each vehicle. As the others spread out over the property four approached her. One took his sunglasses off and showed her his ID.

"Lacey Williams?" he asked. "FBI. I'm Agent Dan Jones. Have you seen your brother Thomas recently?"

"He was here yesterday," she replied. "He stayed the night and left before I got up. He left me a note saying he was going to report to the FBI. What is this about?"

"May I see the note?" asked Agent Jones. "Please?"

She turned to go into the house and was aware that he and the other three men from his vehicle had followed her in. She had put the note on her desk and handed it to him. After he read it he looked at her again, then nodded at the other three who spread out.

"Now wait just a minute," she protested. "I've been truthful with you. If you're going to search my house I want to see a warrant."

He pulled a document out of his inner jacket pocket. "Did your brother say anything more?" he asked.

"I was going to tell you but this is bullshit," she said. "I'm calling a lawyer and I won't say anything until I speak to one."

"That is your right," he said. "Your brother is in a lot of trouble. There is a substantial amount of money missing and until we find your brother we're going to assume he stole it."

Lacey kept her face grim and dialled the lawyer who handled her grandfather's estate. When she explained what was happening he said he would be there right away. Fifteen minutes later the lawyer arrived and read over the warrant. Then he pulled Lacey into the bathroom. For a moment she panicked slightly when she saw the bullet and some bloody gauze from Bucky's wound in the small garbage can beside the sink. She blew her nose with a tissue and dropped it over the gauze.

"Did your brother say anything to you about the money?" asked the lawyer, drawing her attention.

"He said he was tricked into a money laundering scheme for the mob," she replied. "Then he said he transferred a large sum of money into a secret account so he could find the money trail. I told him to report it to the FBI and let them find the money trail. He left before I got up and wrote a note that he was going to the FBI with his story."

The lawyer took a deep breath. "If you want my advice I would tell them everything," he said. "If he's in trouble you need their help to get him out of it, especially if the mob is involved. If he's the one who is in the wrong, you need to distance yourself from him immediately."

Lacey swore, thought for a moment and made a decision. She left the bathroom and approached Agent Jones.

"My brother told me he was tricked into a money laundering scheme involving the mob," she said. "He admitted to transferring the money into a secret account in order to find the money trail. I have no idea of the account details. He said he would report to the FBI so that your forensic accountants could find the money trail. That's all I know. If he's being chased by the mob you need to find him first."

Jones looked grimly at her and took out his cell phone. "Put an APB out on Thomas Williams, as a material witness in a money laundering scheme," he said, then he paused. "Are you sure it's him? Okay, cancel the APB but I want his vehicle examined fully and the autopsy done as soon as possible." He hung up and looked at Lacey apologetically. "I'm sorry. Your brother was found dead in his car just half an hour ago. He had been shot in the head. It would appear that the mob found him before we did. I am sorry for your loss."

A roaring sound filled Lacey's ears and she stood there absorbing what Agent Jones had just told her. Tom, dead. She knew Jones was saying something to her but she had no idea what it was because the roaring sound blocked everything out. He looked at the lawyer, who helped her sit and kneeled in front of her.

"Lacey," he kept saying until she finally began to hear words again. "Lacey, did your brother say anything about the money laundering, what it involved?"

"No, except it was one of his colleagues that asked him to set it up," she said as she felt a lump begin to form in her throat. "He didn't say which one. I have to phone my mother."

"We already have two agents on their way to your mother's house," replied Jones. "We're going to finish searching your property and see if your brother left any clues here. Do you have someone who can stay with you?" She nodded, remembering Bucky was nearby. "Good. I would suggest you keep on the lookout for any strange vehicles or people that approach you or your property. If you do notice anything please call me directly. Whoever your brother crossed is going to want their money."

He handed her his card and she took it. Absently she sat on the couch for the next two hours, watching but not really observing the agents search the inside of her house. She did note they didn't go into the bathroom. When the FBI was finished with their search Agent Jones again expressed his sympathies. Then he ordered his men to leave and the lawyer went with them, leaving her alone with just the sound of the birds outside.

Chapter 2>>

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #beefy bucky #buckyontherun #struggling writer #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fic #buckybarnesfanfiction #Buckybarnes FanFiction

[cosmicbucky]

wallpaper

summary: bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 1000

warnings: fluff, nonspecific friends to lovers, this was just a dumb idea i had

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The first time Bucky changed the wallpaper on your phone, it was an accident - kind of. He sat on your couch, lazily scrolling through the photos of Alpine you insisted he looked at, because you simply couldn’t resist having a Halloween photoshoot with her while he was off on yet another mission, leaving her in your trusting hands. He was happy you were in the kitchen, because he would never let you see the smile he wore as he browsed the album, chuckling silently to himself over how elaborate these photos were. His mood swiftly changed when he swiped incorrectly, an array of different options suddenly presenting themselves to him. He swore under his breath as he tried to make them go away, but he only made it worse as the option to change your wallpaper came up. With an annoyed huff, he just kept tapping, figuring that eventually he would get it back to how it was. After a few more grueling seconds, he sighed in relief as he was once more face to face with Alpine sitting inside a jack-o-lantern candy bucket - how was he supposed to know that photo was now both your lockscreen and homescreen?

“Did you change my lockscreen?” you curiously asked when you finally sat back down beside him, taking your phone and checking it for any new messages.

“Did I what?” he asked in confusion, his head snapping up from his own phone to look at you with a scrunched brow. 

You could only laugh lightly, turning your phone to display the new photo brandishing your screen. The second Bucky saw it, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly as his face flushed ever so slightly. 

“I, uh- sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, your phone is just - it’s different than mine.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly, your chuckles growing into more laughter as you realized it was also your homescreen. “It’s okay, Buck,” you assured softly, laughing quietly as you changed the photos back to their precursors. “It could have been worse, at least it’s not an embarrassing photo or something.” 

You were too busy fixing his mistake to notice the glint that sparkled in his eyes, a smirk growing on his face as your words gave him the most incredible idea he’s had in a while. 

The second time Bucky changed your wallpaper, it was very much not an accident. You left him your phone so he could look at the photos you took on your latest trip, unpacking your bags as he split his attention between listening to your stories and scrolling through a seemingly endless array of new pictures - which he truthfully enjoyed, but he was on a secret mission for the perfect, nondescript one to choose. 

“Again, Buck?” you giggled, flopping on the bed beside him as you took your phone back. 

“What?” he asked, just innocent and clueless enough to not raise any flags. 

“You and your fat thumbs, I swear,” you mumbled under your breath, changing the photos back once more, completely oblivious to his proud little smirk.

It took three more times for you to suspect that Bucky had started doing it on purpose, but your suspicions weren’t proven correct until he took a photo of you to display.

“Did you- when- really?” you stammered as you looked between him and your phone, half annoyed and half impressed because when did he even take this photo? 

He only grinned in response, laughing about how long he was able to do it under the pretense of it being an accident before running away in a fit of giggles, dodging the pillow you threw after him.

From that moment on, it became a game for him. 

Any opportunity that presented itself, Bucky snatched your phone and changed your displays to the most embarrassing and ridiculous photos of yourself.

A sunset was changed to you mid-sneeze. Alpine was changed to you post-nap. You partying with the gang was changed to an extreme close up of your face in that very photo. Louisiana docks were changed to you mid rant as you yelled at him to give you your phone back. A cherry blossom was changed to you passed out on the couch, wrapped up in a hoodie you stole from him and drooling all over the sleeve of it. 

As time went on, you stopped being surprised whenever it happened, and you grew to enjoy it. It was a silly thing, but it was a silly thing that only you and Bucky shared. It was a special thing, a cherished thing. It was your favourite thing.

Neither of you realized how the dynamic between the two of you started morphing into something else right in front of your very eyes. It was slow. It was gradual and complex and delicate and went unnoticed for almost a whole year. 

It was only noticed now, as Bucky took the opportunity to grab your phone as you slept soundly against his chest. It had been a while since he was able to get a chance to do this, and so he eagerly unlocked your phone, already running through different ideas of what picture to use. 

He was caught off guard when the picture staring back at him was from a few weeks ago. It was the day you finally convinced him to let you drive his bike after months of endless asking. It was a photo neither of you knew Sam took until later that night, when he sent it to both of you. 

It was you, sat in front of him on the bike and wrapped up in his arms, one securely planted on either side of you as his hands rested on yours, guiding you through everything as you both gleefully laughed at the fact that you actually managed to convince him to do this. 

For once, Bucky didn’t have the heart to change it. 

He couldn’t. 

It was his wallpaper, too. 

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky au #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabble #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky x y/n #bucky drabble #bucky blurb #bucky barnes blurb #best friend!bucky #bucky and reader #bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes fluff

[crazyinlovewithbucky]

“In the bedroom, I’ll be screaming but outside, I’ll keep it quiet.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x avenger!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky had a sexual relationship and were hiding it from everyone in the team and the compound, making the relationship more exciting for you. Also, you discovered a secret kink Bucky had.

Warnings: smut with very little plot, overstimulation, p in v sex, RUSSIAN NICKNAMES, Soldat kink, Bucky being desperately horny, sex-tape, filming during sex, almost getting caught, praise kink, some degradation kink with name-calling, creampie, breeding kink, marking kink, hair pulling, kind of voyeurism kink??, Steve making appearance and being so sweet and gentle to reader, an odd mention of Pam and Tommy? fingering, finger sucking, fluff, aftercare, Russian praise, too many kinks, I lost track I'm sorry.

This smut was inspired by the song Low by SZA

AU/N: Hey guys, I don't know how to say this but this smut piece is literally written based on a dream I had lol. Hope you enjoy it and I'd like to remind you that English isn't my first language so excuse if I misspelled or mispronounced anything. Enjoy <3.

"Shit, get in. Get in." Your heart skipped a beat, and you got so excited and shy when you saw Bucky standing in front of your door completely naked with nothing but his bathroom robe on, and he opened it wide open as soon as you opened your bedroom door. You held his hand and pulled him in quickly before someone saw him like this. "What the hell are you doing?" You closed and locked the door, turned around to face him, and found his robe now pooling around his feet.

"I just missed you so much, baby doll. Come here." He pulled you by your arms to him and started kissing you hungrily, then he lifted you up in his arms, and you wrapped your legs around him by habit. You kissed him back deeply. "I just couldn't wait until they fell asleep. I need you so badly." He mumbled against your mouth and held you tightly as he turned towards your bed and threw you gently on it. "Clothes off now." He ordered, and you giggled as you didn't have many clothes on. Only your tank top and your panties. You took them off quickly and saw him already moving his metal hand up and down his hardened cock, and it was leaking pre-cum at the sight before his eyes: you, fully naked on your white bed sheets. All his.

He started at your feet, kissing and mumbling sweet words like miss this, miss you, love you, my doll, my perfect girl, and need you, moving all the way up to your calves, knees, and thighs, filling them with kisses and love bites. You smiled at how needy he was, as if you hadn't woken up in his arms this morning as he was fucking you awake, burying his head in your neck, and marking you there. You had to wear a turtleneck sweater all day long in the middle of August because of his marks on your neck, claiming you as his over and over again as he wanted desperately to show everyone that you are his, but unfortunately for him, you had to keep your relationship a secret because you don't want anyone snooping around or middling in that special bond you and Bucky have.

At first, you kept it a secret because you weren't sure if this relationship would work out or not, and if it didn't, you both didn't want it to be a big deal with everyone walking on eggshells around you guys. But to your surprise, it worked out, and it lasted for a whole year. You both thought the reason why it's going so well between you guys is because you're keeping it a secret, so this is why you try to hide it as best as you can, sneaking around and locking doors, making excuses to go on missions together as it feels like a gateway vacation for you both. Of course, you were working and getting your asses kicked, but you always made things up to make it last longer than it did so you could enjoy your time together and go on dates. It wasn't the best plan, but it made you both happy and got you both closer to each other. And all things aside, you both found it so thrilling and erotic to keep it hidden from everyone and sneak around, having quickies in conference rooms, on the quinjets, in Tony and Bruce's labs, in the gym, on the roof, and in a parked SUV. Because sadly, most of the time you both weren't alone; he was either with Steve or Sam, and you were always following Nat and Yelena around. So you both had to take advantage of any time you found yourselves alone in it.

"Take it easy, Soldat. Don't you remember this morning?" You smirked and rubbed his hair while he was kissing and sucking love marks on your inner thighs.

"I love it when you call me that." He chuckled, moved up your body, and kissed you passionately. He devoured your mouth with his. He pressed his body so close to yours, like you were a part of him. Wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly, afraid you might disappear if he ever let go. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, fearing the same thing. "Want to do nothing except for staying right here, like this, forever, моя любовь" he mumbled, and you moaned against his mouth when you heard your favorite Russian nickname, the one he always whispers in your ear when he tries to tease you in front of people. My love.

He moved his head down and started sucking and biting your nipples, giving each one the proper love and attention they deserve. while moving his hands, lifting your legs up, and bending you in half. You held them up and wrapped them around his torso. He sneaked his fleshy hand down to your cunt and cupped it. Rubbing and opening your lips down there and feeling your arousal soak his hand "All of this is for me, Кукла?" He rubbed your arousal all over your clit, earning some moans and whimpers from you. Then he moved his hand to his mouth and licked his digits clean of your wetness. "Tastes like heaven, as always." He pushed his tongue into your mouth and kissed you like his life depended on it. So passionately, you were slightly getting dizzy.

While getting drowned in his kiss, you felt his cock slowly poking your entrance. He pushed the head slowly inside, and you moaned against his mouth at how hot and hard it felt inside. You felt yourself gushing around him, just for the excitement of feeling his hardened cock filling you up. He moved his kisses to your neck, finding new places there to mark you. He pushed his cock inside of you slowly until he bottomed out, and both of you were moaning messes. You loved hearing him moan and whimper for you as much as he loved hearing the same sounds come out of you.

He picked up a slow and deep pace at first, while his mouth never left yours or your body. You were playing with his hair and moaning his name. "Damn, Bucky. I missed this so much. Please don't leave. I want you, like this all the time." You whimpered in his ear, and you swore you felt his cock twitching when he heard your words. You thought he was going to cum.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're killing me." He breathed hard and started an unrelenting pace, going faster and fucking his cock harder into you. His hand snaked down, and he rubbed quick circles on your clit. You cried out loud and couldn't control your screams and moans anymore. You couldn't handle it any longer, and suddenly, you heard that gushing sound coming out of you. You squirted and came all over his cock. You lost all control of your body, and you felt your walls uncontrollably clenching so hard on his cock. He moaned loudly as he emptied everything he had inside of you; that squelching sound became louder because of your mixed juices, and he couldn't stop fucking everything into you, filling you up, and marking you as always.

You were cut off from your trance by a loud banging on your door, and someone was trying to open your door. "Y/N, are you okay? Open the door." It was Steve, and from the sound of his voice, he was very concerned.

"Fuck, were we that loud?" you panicked and whispered to Bucky.

He chuckled at you and said, "You were that loud, doll, not me." He kissed your cheek while stressing the word 'you'.

Steve kept banging and trying to open the door, saying, "I'm going to break this down if you don't answer me."

"Holy shit," you whispered. "Steve, I'm fine. It's just—II was—Oh." You yelled back to Steve and were cut short because Bucky moved his semi-hard cock and kept fucking his cum into you, very slowly and deeply. "Buck, come on." You moaned quietly, but all this son of a bitch did was raise his eyebrows at you playfully and smirk.

"Looks like Steve will finally find out the slut you've been hiding under your innocent face, doll. And you know Steve loves to gossip with Nat." He smirked and bit your jaw playfully, knowing goddamn well that Steve tells everything to Nat, and Nat tells Yelena, and Yelena has a big mouth and will tell every single one in the compound that Steve saw you being fucked raw by his best friend, and that made you get more startled and out of breath.

"Y/N. What's wrong? Are you sure you're fine?" Steve yelled from the other side of the door.

"Y-Yes, Steve. I- Fuck" Bucky, being the torturous monster he is, he started sucking and kissing that sweet spot in your neck, making you forget you just squirted all over his cock and want nothing but to cum all over his cock over again.

"Don't stop those sweet sounds you make, doll. Let them know who's making you scream like a slut," Bucky whispered in your ear as he never stopped dragging his now-hardened cock in and out of you.

"Y/N?" Steve called. "I'm getting really worried here; I'm breaking down the door."

"No." You yelled loudly. "Stop, please. I'm just having period cramps." You yelled, then put your hand on your face from the embarrassment. Bucky giggled quietly at you, and you hit his shoulder.

"Period?" He smirked at you. "Have I really fucked you stupid already?" He chuckled while smirking at you as his right hand moved to your breast, and he pinched your left nipple playfully, which made you whine at him.

"Really? Do you need anything?" Steve calmed down a bit and asked with a still-concerned voice.

"No, Steve. I'm fine. I have everything I need. Thank you." You breathed out and bit Bucky's shoulder as he couldn't stop giggling and smirking at you.

"Okay. If you need anything, you can text me, I guess." Steve said, and you smiled at his sweetness.

"Will do, Cap. Thanks." 

"Why don't you go fuck him instead, huh?" Bucky frowned at you after he pushed all of his length inside and stopped moving.

You rolled your eyes at him and were about to reply back, but Steve's voice stopped you. "Have you seen Bucky, by the way?" He asked from behind the door, and your eyes widened. Bucky smirked and was about to say something loudly, but you smacked your hand on his mouth quickly and flipped him over while his cock was still buried inside of you. You were straddling him now, on top of him, while your hand was still covering his mouth and shushing him.

"No, Cap. Not since dinner. Maybe he's in his room." You tried to stabilize your voice as much as you could as your eyes started to tear up from the burning that Bucky's cock was causing inside of you and your need to fuck yourself on him and cum again.

"He's not. I was in his room right before I heard you, and he wasn't there." He exclaimed. You cursed him and all the gods and everyone at this moment for disturbing your much-needed moment with Bucky like that. "Maybe he's taking a late-night ride or something."

"I was." Bucky mumbled from beneath you, your hand still covering his mouth. You rolled your eyes at him and told him to shut up.

"Anyways, thanks, Y/N. Get well soon. See ya." Steve said, and then you heard him walking away, and you sighed in relief.

Bucky kissed your hand that was covering his mouth, and you looked down at him. You admit he looks so sexy like that, with his messed-up hair, hazy half-lidded eyes, and kind of red cheeks. You removed your hand and kissed him deeply. He flipped you over again, so he was on top of you again and kissing you hungrily.

"I want to try something with you tonight." He smirked and licked his now-swollen lips. He lifted himself up slowly, opened your nightstand's drawer, and took out your vintage video camera. You're not surprised how well he knows its location; he knows every single item in your room like it's his own, as he spends most of his nights here.

The hobby you and Bucky shared and which was the topic of your first-ever conversation was photography. He really loved taking pictures of everything; it was his way of adapting to the new world, and as much as he liked how these new wireless phones had cameras in them, he was old-fashioned and had a nice collection of vintage film cameras. He takes pictures of everything he finds in his way; that was actually recommended first by his therapist, and it had good results for Bucky as he figured out he was passionate about that, so he always had his camera with him. You, on the other hand, had a passion for filming videos and making short movies and vlogs; when you were young, your dream was to be a filmmaker. You chose to be a superhero instead, but no one says you can't make videos and short movies as a hobby. So you always kept your cameras near, and Bucky knew all of their locations.

He opened it and turned it on, pointing the lens at his face and making silly faces to make sure it was recording. You laughed at him and at the silly faces he was making. "What are you doing, Barnes?" You giggled at him and sat up a little.

He smirked and kissed you. "I heard about this show that's based on this celebrity couple that made a sex tape in the 90s, and everyone was freaking out about it."

"Oh, really?" You made a shocked face at him and were playing along as if you weren't the one telling him about that show.

"Yeah. I guess it was a big deal back then." He flipped you over on your stomach as he was kneeling behind you, holding the camera in his hand while filming your naked body.

"Yeah?" You loved this idea but still looked confused and turned your head to face him, surprised he was actually into it.

He pointed the camera at your face and giggled, "Now, we're making one of our own." He raised his eyebrows at you playfully.

"Oh god, Bucky. You are crazy." You laughed and buried your head in the pillow.

"You're the reason, doll. You drive me crazy." He smirked. He grabbed one pillow and put it under your hips to give him easy access to your pussy.

He positioned the camera on the top right of the bed while making the lens focus on your body, and he saw that this was the perfect position from the flipped recording screen of the camera. You made a silly face at the camera and stuck your tongue out, making him laugh behind you. He brushed your hair with his fingers, grabbed it carefully with his hand, and kissed your shoulder. He lined his cock with his other hand at your entrance and pushed himself slowly inside, earning a gasp from you. As he pushed himself all the way inside and bottomed out, he laid on top of you while his grip on your hair tightened, and you arched your back against his chest while moaning out his name.

He started fucking faster into you right away. This position made his cock hit deeper spots inside you, and you could feel him all the way up to your lower stomach, and you knew if you touched it, you'd feel the bulge there. You couldn't wait till you hit your orgasm to see stars and white dots, as you can see them now from how deep he was and how hard he was fucking into you. You can feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, which gave you goosebumps all over, and that made you cry out louder than you already were.

He grabbed your hair harder, pulled your head up from the pillow, and pointed your face at the camera. "Look at the camera, шлюха. Look at yourself being fucked dumb." He whispered in your ear before biting your earlobe and sucking on it. You couldn't control your screams at that point, and you tried your hardest to muffle them on the pillow, but you couldn't because of how Bucky was holding your head up. You were praying silently that no one comes again and disturbs you from being fucked into another oblivion.

His other hand snaked up from your waist to your mouth as he pushed two fingers inside your mouth, and you welcomed them and sucked on them hungrily. You pushed your hips back to meet his hard thrusts, and you didn't know if it would be possible, but he somehow hit deeper, and his cockhead was poking your cervix over and over again. You screamed loudly but were muffled by his fingers in your mouth. Now you know why he let you suck on them in the first place. He doesn't want anyone to hear you either.

Somehow, while he was splitting you in half, your orgasm hit you suddenly like lightning, which made you squirm and shake vigorously underneath him as the overstimulation made you lose all control of your body. You closed your eyes and were tearing up while making all sorts of babbling and incoherent sounds. You didn't notice how hard you were clenching his cock until he was whimpering loudly and shooting his warm liquid inside of you. Filling you to the max. He couldn't handle how hard your soaked walls were clenching his bursting cock, so he pulled it all the way out and continued spurting all of his cum on your cunt and its lips. After your walls relaxed and stopped clenching so hard, he watched how your mixed cum dripped and got out of your swollen and abused hole. He almost drooled at the sight before him, but he proceeded to collect all of that mess between your legs with his fingers and fuck it back into you.

You were too overstimulated and kept squirming and trying to move your hips away unconsciously. "Stop moving, принцесса. We have to make it stick." You were moaning uncontrollably. He pulled his fingers out and licked them clean. He started kissing you all over, starting at your ass cheeks and moving up to your shoulder, neck, and eventually your lips.

You tried to kiss back but couldn't because you wanted to breathe more. He smiled and kissed your cheek, grabbed the camera, and stopped recording. He put it again in the drawer, saying, "We can watch that later. Now, let's get you all cleaned up, котенок" He flipped you over on your back again and was going to hold you up, but you stopped him.

"In a minute, please." You yawned, grabbed his hand, and pulled him next to you on the bed. "You killed me, Barnes. At least give me a moment to relax." You hugged him tightly and slept on his chest with his arms wrapped around you.

He chuckled, "If I gave you a minute, Y/L/N, you'll fall asleep, and we need to get cleaned up first." He rubbed your hair and massaged your scalp slowly, trying to ease it from how hard he was pulling your hair before.

"No." You mumbled and hugged him tighter.

"At least, let me clean and change the bed sheets. It's all wet and sticky because of you." He giggled at your childish behavior and tried to get up, but you held him so tightly.

"No." You whined and pouted your lips.

"Come on, doll. I'll make you a hot bath and let you nap a little in it." He drew circles on your arm and kissed your head. He tried to get up again, and you let him.

"Fine. Only if you put that lavender oil in it." You smiled lazily at him and let him hold you up, and you rested your head on his shoulder while he took you to your private bathroom.

"Все для моей принцессы." He kissed you deeply, then sat you on the sink and cleaned you up with a wet cloth after he turned the hot water on in the tub and put some lavender oil in it, waiting for it to be filled. He sat you in the tub gently as he cleaned himself up, wrapped a towel around his hips, and went to clean and change the bedsheets. He came back to the bathroom and saw you napping quietly in the tub. He smiled to himself at how beautiful you looked and went to the bedroom, grabbed one of your Polaroid camera, and took a picture of his sleeping beauty in the bathtub, looking so angelic. He took off the towel and joined afterwards. He sat behind you and made you rest your head on his chest and sleep on him as he kept rubbing your hips and waist from the bruises he caused earlier from grabbing you so hard and tight.

You woke up the next morning in his arms, in clean and fresh bedsheets, both of you smelling like lavender and wearing clean and soft underwear. You kissed his lips softly, and he opened his eyes slowly and smiled at you. "Good morning, Soldat." You kissed him again, and he kissed back.

"It's always a good morning when I wake up with you in my arms, моя любовь" he smiled and kissed you again. "I love you." He locked eyes with you and held your face with his hand while rubbing his thumb on your cheek.

"I love you," you said back, and you pressed your lips to his, kissing him deeply. Never in your life did you think you'd find true love and connection with someone. But here you are, absolutely head over heels for this man in front of you.

fin

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моя любовь = "my love" Все для моей принцессы = "anything for my princess" котенок = "kitten" принцесса = "princess" шлюха = "slut" Кукла = "doll"

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[heytheredelulu]

Little Bookworm 18+

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Content Warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, size kink, dubcon kink (as long as Bucky can keep a straight face), tummy bulge, language, a good ole coochie slap (once), cum play, a little fluff, some aftercare

Your boyfriend can’t think of anything more adorable than watching you read. One night while you’re in the shower he picks up the book you left on the nightstand: “Haunting Adeline by H.D. Carlton” and thumbs through it, very quickly realizing just what kind of books his sweet little bookworm is really into.

Inspired by my IRL husband’s reaction to my smutty reads.

Note: I don’t own any characters or works referenced in this oneshot and shout out to H.D. Carlton for creating Zade Meadows and giving us the house of mirrors chapter that’s been living rent free in both me and @lilacka’s head for over a year.

Bucky absolutely loved to watch you read.

The subtle way your expressions changed as your eyes would glide across the pages made his heart swell with admiration.

He found himself entranced with your concentration, your eyebrows knitting together in thought, your lips quirking up into a smile and even the soft laughter that would sometimes escape you as you delved deep into the world you held in your hands.

He was always more than happy to accompany you to the bookstore, leaning against the shelves and observing you as you thumbed through new titles, stacking your choices in his strong arms before darting down the next aisle to browse further.

He looked forward to the evenings where he could lay his head comfortably in your lap, his arm draped across your thighs as you worked your fingers lazily through his hair while you read quietly above him.

Tonight he lay in bed with his hands folded behind his head, listening to the gentle sound of the shower from the bathroom as you bathed when his gaze fell on your most recent read on the nightstand. The cover was dark with a skull and roses, something about a ‘Haunting’ and an absurd amount of sticky notes jutted out from the pages. His curiosity overtook him and he sat up, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. He thumbed through it carefully before letting it fall open to one of the tagged pages, his eyes scanning the text and widening slightly at the content.

He flipped to another tab, quickly reading through the passage, his breath quickening as he took in the words.

“If I catch you, I fuck you.”

Jesus Christ.

The bathroom door creaked open and he slowly lifted his gaze up to you.

Your damp body wrapped in a towel with your wet hair against your neck and shoulders did absolutely nothing to combat the heat that was already rising within him at what he’d just read.

Your eyes connect for a beat before you glance down to notice the book in his hand, opened to one of your tagged pages.

It was hard to discern if the flush across your cheeks was remnant of the heat of the shower or from the slight embarrassment of feeling caught by your boyfriend discovering the absolute filth you’d been reading.

He raises a brow at you, lifting the book and tapping on the open passage.

“If I catch you, I fuck you?” He asks, tilting his head curiously. “Really?”

You huff and roll your eyes, stepping forward and reaching to snatch the book from his hands but he’s quicker, snapping it shut and holding it just out of your reach.

“No, no. We’re gonna talk about this, doll.” He says, his lips curling into a smirk. “This is what you’ve been reading?”

You shift from foot to foot.

“Sometimes.” You reply with a weak shrug.

He turns the book over in his hands again and idly runs his palm back and forth against all the flags poking out from between the pages. “And do you.. like this stuff?” He asks, not looking up. “Does it turn you on?”

You swallow hard and nod despite the fact he’s not looking at you.

“Sometimes.” You repeat quietly.

“Huh.”

He purses his lips and nods thoughtfully, standing up and tossing the book onto the bed. “I guess you oughta run then.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hair line.

Did he just?

Is he going to?

“W-what?” You stutter out, taking a small step back as he closes in on you.

He tsks and reaches out, brushing your wet hair back off your shoulder with two fingers. “You heard me, baby.”

You open your mouth to reply but the words are lost the moment he seizes the edge of your towel in his large hand.

Your eyes connect for a brief moment before he yanks the towel free of your body and discards it on the ground, leaving you exposed, confused and incredibly aroused.

His hand settles on your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple and sending a rush of desire straight to your core. He dips his head to nuzzle his forehead against your temple, his tongue flicking against your earlobe.

“You should probably run now.” He warns in a whisper, taking a step back to give you space for a head start.

You stare wide eyed in disbelief, your head barely able to wrap around what was happening.

“Five.” He says in a threatening tone, bringing his hand down to palm his growing erection under his sweatpants.

You’re frozen to the spot.

There’s no fucking way he’s about to do this.

“Four.”

Okay, maybe he is.

You take off at a run, reaching the bedroom door and flinging it open with him hot on your tail.

Your bare feet pound against the hardwood floor and you rush down the hall towards the staircase, making it only two steps down before his strong arm catches you around the waist and picks you up effortlessly.

You wiggle against his hold, kicking your feet and thrashing.

“You’re not very fast, you know.” He teases, tightening his grip on you, his cock straining against his sweatpants and pressing into your backside.

He carries you back into the bedroom, his arm locked around you in a vice grip and tosses you onto the bed as if you were weightless. He tugs his sweatpants down and kicks them off, his cock bobbing with every step as he stalks towards you.

He braces his palms on the bed, preparing to climb up and pin you but you scramble backwards off the bed and take off again. He pauses, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Wait, what-?” he straightens up and turns, watching as you sprint across the room and he frowns, realizing you weren’t going to let him catch you that easily.

“Damnit.” He grumbles, launching himself up over the bed.

He chases you with heavy footsteps towards the bathroom and you rush to shut the door but his hand catches it and forces it open, leaving you completely cornered with nowhere else to turn. “Shit.” You breathe out, looking around for a possible way out. He laughs, a cute and genuine laugh that is just so Bucky, completely betraying the role he was attempting to play.

You cross your arms over your bare breasts and frown. “I’m sorry.” He says, shaking his head. “I- just.. why did you run into the bathroom?” He asks, gesturing around the small room with amusement. “I don’t know!” You huff, your lips pressing into a pout. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you definitely weren’t.” He agrees, swinging his foot back to kick the door shut behind him. “Guess you’re trapped, huh?”

You nod, letting your arms fall away from your breasts. “I guess I am.” You breathe out, your body thrumming with a mix of excitement and desire as your eyes trail down his toned body to land on his fully erect cock. He’s on you in an instant, grabbing your wrist and tossing you to the ground.

You fall hard on your hands and knees onto the plush bath mat, barely able to steady yourself on all fours before he’s on your back, arm hooked around your waist and sinking his cock into your wet, throbbing cunt. You arch back into him, fingers digging into the bath mat and a choked gasp catches in your throat as he pulls you flush to his pelvis, burying himself to the hilt. He snakes his free hand up your abdomen towards your chest, a trail of goosebumps following in his wake, dipping his forehead down to rest against the back of your shoulder. He palms your breast roughly, rolling your peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Bucky..” You whisper, your head falling back.

His forearm tightens around your waist and he releases your nipple with a gentle tug, sliding his hand up to curl around your throat. You moan and wiggle your hips, desperate for him to move, but he holds you still, lifting you up with him as he leans back on his heels.

“I’ll never get tired of this.” He whispers, unhooking his arm from your waist and resting his large hand over the slight bulge in your abdomen. “That’s my cock.” He murmurs, squeezing your throat gently before grasping your jaw and tilting your chin down to look at how he’s stretching you. You whimper and he moves your hand to press down on the bulge of his cock in your belly. “And this is my pussy.” He growls, delivering a slap to your aching clit before he draws his hips back and begins to thrust himself up into you at a steady pace.

A string of soft curses falls from your lips and your head drops back against the crook of his neck, your hand leaving your abdomen and reaching backwards to fist in his hair. “I didn’t realize you were such a freak, baby.” He whispers, his hand tightening around your throat. “I shoulda thumbed through one of your little books sooner.”

His free hand kneads at the flesh of your thigh and he groans, his balls slapping against your ass as he fucks up into you. “I- I-“ You stutter, unable to think straight as your head grows dizzy with pleasure. “Oh no, am I fuckin’ my baby stupid?” He asks with a grin, bringing two fingers to tease at your bottom lip. You open on instinct and he slips them into your mouth, letting out a shaky breath as you suck and swirl your tongue around the digits.

“Fuck.” He hisses, pressing his slick fingers to your clit. You gasp, your fingers curling around his wrist as he strokes your sensitive bud, pulling you closer towards your impending orgasm.

“You gonna come, little bird?” He whispers, trying to reference your book and quickening his fingers against your clit. “It’s ‘little mouse’.” You correct, your lips quirking up into a smirk at his admirable attempt. “Whatever.” He hisses, pinching your clit between his fingers and sending a jolt of white-hot pleasure through your body. You choke out a strangled cry as you come, your legs trembling and back arching against him as your cunt clenches around his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He grunts, shoving you forward to the floor and falling to his knees. You scramble forward, his cock slipping from your dripping hole as you try to steady yourself in the dizzying wake of your orgasm.

“Oh no, no you don’t.” He growls, grabbing your ankle and dragging you back towards him. You lose your balance and fall flat, your breasts smashed against the cold tile as he presses his weight down on you, running his cock back and forth along your folds before thrusting back into you. “T-too much!” You whine, squirming underneath him.

“Tell me to stop.” He grunts, knowing damn well you never would. He hooks his forearm under your waist again and angles your hips upward, taking you deeper than you even thought possible.

Choked sobs of euphoria escape your throat as your cheek rests against the floor, dragging back and forth across the tile from the force at which he’s fucking into you. Your limp body shakes uncontrollably as your pussy spasms and waves of ecstacy crash over you faster than you can count them. Your orgasms explode through you like a string of firecrackers as you curse and mumble incoherently.

He pulls out abruptly, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back, moving to straddle your chest while he frantically fucks his fist. He comes with a shout, gasping as he paints your face with ropes of hot, sticky cum. “Fuck.” He pants, looking down at you in admiration as he brushes his thumb along your cheek, gathering up his seed.

He pinches your flushed, sticky cheeks together with his free hand. “Open.” He says softly, slipping his thumb into your mouth when you do. You suckle his thumb, greedily cleaning it with a swirl of your tongue, looking up at him through half lidded eyes. He sighs contentedly before moving off you and rising to stand, reaching into the shower to turn on the water.

“And I had just showered.” You mumble as you take the hand he offers you and pull yourself up on wobbly knees. “Don’t you dare bitch about the water bill when it comes.” You tease.

He chuckles softly and pulls you into him, holding you against his chest with one strong arm while the other reaches out to test the temperature of the water. “I won’t.” He says, stepping in first and gently helping you in after him. He wraps his arms lovingly around you and rests his chin atop your head as the warm water cascades over you both.

“Let’s clean you up, doll. It’s late and we have plans in the morning.” He says quietly, his eyes slipping closed as his hand runs idly up and down your back. You lean back and look up at him with your brows furrowed in confusion. “We don’t have plans tomorrow.”

His eyes flutter open and he grins. “The hell we don’t.” He replies, reaching for the shampoo bottle and squeezing the contents into the palm of his hand. You open your mouth to protest when he doesn’t answer your question but he simply twirls a finger, gesturing for you to turn around.

You sigh, turning your back to him and he begins to lather the shampoo in your hair, gently massaging your scalp with his fingers. “So what’re these plans?” You ask quietly after a long moment of silently enjoying his hands tenderly working through your locks. He leans forward, his broad, wet chest pressing against your back and brings his mouth to hover beside your ear.

His breath sends a shiver down your spine as he lets out a low, breathy laugh and whispers, “I’m taking you to buy more books.”

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #avengers smut #marvel smut #smutty one shot #smutty fanfiction

[petrovaaaae]

White Winter Wolf

CHAPTER 23

warning ; mature

Given that they were with each other nearly all the time, practically all the time, he should have realised Irina would pick up on his shifty behaviour. He had asked Steve to come to shops with him, trying to pick out that one ring that just..spoke volumes. But Bucky could never find the right one. So, instead, Tony offered to make one and, of course, Natasha offered advice. What moved him more was the fact that Tony offered to do it all, free of charge - which Bucky protested, but Tony basically called it an early wedding present....He hadn't even asked Irina yet! So, after much convincing, he relented and gave into Tony. What he did tell Tony was how he wanted it, and he described it exactly how his ma's ring was - a silver band, with a blue sapphire in the middle and two little white stones on each side. This was the important part for Bucky, because he knew that if he had his ma's ring, he would have used that. It was tradition. It only took Tony two weeks until it was finished, and when Bucky looked at it, he felt tears spring to his eyes and even Steve was moved, because, of course, Steve remembered that ring as well. The hard part was actually...asking her. Natasha all but warned Bucky that doing it in front of people would freak Irina out.  Natasha told him the best way to do it was when they were alone, during the simplest time, not to even get down on one knee because she would most likely faint. He didn't want her banging her head or hurting herself because of that, so he tried to pick the best time. 

What he was absently reminded of, was the fact that today was his birthday. Another year older, another year that he has cheated death. As his eyes fluttered open he was instantly met with a coldness. Usually Irina's back would be pressed up against him, sometimes he would even find her straddling him, asking him a thousand questions that his mind couldn't comprehend given it was barely functioning due to only rousing from his slumber. Did he panic? Yes. Given all that happened with Walker and Sharon, he panicked. Sharon had all but gone into ingocnito, which was more dangerous because no one could track her movements, no one knew when she would strike next. Walker, on the other hand, was just proving to be a complete pain in the ass. It wasn't too long ago that they were at an avengers convention and, for some reason, Walker was there! He wasn't even an avenger! Heck, bucky didn't even like going to those things but was even more pissed off at Walker being there. Irina had all but looked at Bucky when she saw him, only for Bucky to smile at her, and she knew - Walker couldn't do anything.

Sitting up, his eyes scanned his surroundings and the hair on the back of his neck stood up as he heard the light rustling in the living room. Standing up, he walked to the door, only in his boxers, opening it and what he saw was Irina sitting on the floor with Alpine sitting beside her, both of them wearing party hats. Irina had that goofy grin on her face, and, of course, she had the place decorated with birthday signs, balloons and decorations. "Happy Birthday!!" Irina exclaimed and she looked at Alpine, pointing at him and he meowed. 

He looked sheepishly around the place, before settling his gaze on Irina. Was he overwhelmed? Absolutely. When was the last time he celebrated a birthday? He couldn't remember, probably when he was a kid? As Irina stood, she cleared her throat "Now." She said firmly "I'm not really good at presents, but I did ask Steve. He told me that during your Howling Commando days, you always expressed your desire to visit the Grand Canyon." Irina tilted her head, smiling at him "So. Guess what? I have conspired with Tony and from today, we are free for a week, we are going to visit and stay there and....Yeah." 

Bucky's eyes trailed over her features. Had she gone through all this effort for him? Slowly she went over, standing on her tip toes as she placed a party hat on his head, placing the strap underneath his chin and she stepped back, grinning "There we go, that's much better." He couldn't help the tears that filled his eyes and he saw her smile drop, looking at him with wide eyes "Bucky, whats wrong?" She asked, god. No one...has ever done so much for him, no one but Steve. 

"I love you, doll." It was all he could manage to say and she smiled at him "Jus' been so long since I have celebrated my...birthday, yano?" 

"Well have no fear, there is plenty of more years after this to celebrate. Best get used to it, Sargeant Barnes." She said playfully, tilting her head as she chewed on her bottom lip "But, we have a plane to catch." she offered him a smile and he nodded. His mind couldn't fully wrap round the idea that she...actually asked Steve what was the one thing he had always wanted "I already have everything packed, everything is ready to go, Steve is going to check on Alpine every day, even bring him to the compound for a while....just...get ready." He stepped forward, cupping her face as he leaned down, pressing his lips against hers, and she pressed into the kiss "Really....want..to...but...time.." Irina mumbled each time they broke away and he nodded stepping back. When he went into the bedroom, he took that little party hat off his head, setting it on the bed as he went to the wardrobe, fumbling through it. His mind kept going back to the fact that she had done this for him. Tears kept pricking in his eyes, just thinking of...she was asking Steve what he always wanted, telling Tony they were going.....It felt beautifully strange to have someone make so much effort for him.

Once he was dressed, he walked out to the living room, and she set alpine down as he scampered off to bed. She had already removed her own party hat and he peaked behind her at the bags at the door "Alright, soldier. Lets go." Irina said and he instantly went over, taking the bags. Heck he wasn't going to let her lift so much as a finger. They left the apartment, going down the stairs and Bucky put the bags into the boot. What he did have in his pocket was that little box with the ring in it, because, of course, he was going to ask her today. Getting into the car, Irina turned her head to look at him. "Also, I have a surprise for you later."

He turned his head to look at her "Doll, you have already done so much." He said and she shook her head with a smile "Thankyou.." 

"Ah, no. Its your birthday, don't need to thank me, Bucky." Irina said and he started up the car "Just to let you know, the surprise has something to do with wearing it, and you taking it off me after." His head instantly snapped towards her, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

"Keep talkin' like that doll and we are gonna have to pull over." Bucky admitted, and with the dress she wore, it was a strappy white one, tight fitting, accompanied by those fashion boots. He could see her nipples hardening poking through. She turned her head, looking at him as she grinned

"Alright, heres the deal. Pull over someone you think is quiet, not sex though we don't have enough time, but I will..." She bit her lip, grinning and he instantly felt the hardening between his legs, because he knew what she meant. So he did. It was still early so there were barely any cars about. He pulled into a quiet parking lot, and she turned around in the seat "Pull them down, let me see." And he watched her, unbuckling his belt, undoing the buttons of his jeans and the zipper as he pulled both jeans and his boxers down and she ran her tongue along her lips as she took in his hardened length. She leaned across, her hand gripping at the base of his cock as she began giving him long strokes along it, her tongue poking over to ran across the head, collecting the precum that had leaked out.

"Such a good girl." Bucky mumbled as he looked down at her, his hand going to bunch in her hair, pulling it back from her face. Her mouth closed around the head as she took him in her mouth, stopping once he hit the back of her throat and Bucky tilted his head back against the head rest, closing his eyes as she bit his lip, her head began bobbing "Best fuckin' birthday ever." He muttered and he heard her laughing, sending vibrations rippling through him. His grip on her hair tightened as he began thrusting upwards into her mouth, one of her hands going to cup his backs, rolling them in her hand slightly. He looked down at her, as he stilled his hips and she came up for air before returning, her head bobbing along him, with each movement he hit the back of her throat "Thats it, doll, gon' cum." he whispered, his breath hitching as he felt those familiar sparks shooting throughout him "You gon' take it? Gon' swallow it?" he heard her muffled 'mhmm', and he began thrusting into her mouth again, low grunts escaping him as his grip on her hair tightened, his body tensing as a final low growl vibrated from his chest as he pushed her head down fully until his cock hit the back of her throat, his seed releasing and hitting the back of it. He gave a few slow, shallow rocks before he released his hold on her hair, and she came up, his cock slipping from her mouth and he watched as she swallowed his cum, tilting his head, panting softly as she smiled at him "Lie back."

"No. We have no time, Bucky." Irina said and he exhaled deeply "No, today is about you. I can wait, trust me." she said with a smile and he ran his tongue along his lower lip, before nodding. He fixed his jeans and boxers, buckling his belt again "Alright, once you're recovered, we really do need to go." He returned around in the seat, leaning forward and pressed his lips against hers, and he could taste that salty taste as he ran his tongue along hers, and he felt her shudder "Bucky please, I don't have much self restraint when it comes to you." she whispered against his lips. 

​He felt a smirk pulling on his lips "Good." he said "Because you did its my day, didn't you, doll?" he asked and she nodded her head slowly "Given me ideas, peach. Gon' make you regret that." he pulled away, and he started the engine up, when he turned his head to look at her, he could see her shocked, yet excited reaction.

"Im so fucking wet right now." she whispered and he turned his head, nodding before he started off on the journey again. And all he could think about was the fact the was squirming. Even on the plane, she was fidgeting in her seat, her nipples still poking through that dress of hers. What started as her trying to tease him, only backfired. He even put his hand on her thigh whilst they were high in the air, giving it a light squeeze, which he always done to comfort her but she only rolled her hips, turning her head to pout at him, and he knew she was dying for him. So, once they had landed, they got into the rental car and drove to the hotel that was literally only a few miles from the Canyon itself. As soon as they got out, he felt the heat hit him. They went to the hotel, checked in before going to the room and once they were inside, she fell backwards into the bed. Travelling always tired her, but this time her eyes were wide.

But, there was no time for lying about, because she had booked them a little jeep to actually go to the canyon itself. So, she instantly stood, grabbing his hand to lead him outside. And god, he actually tried to let her drive but Stark, Sam and everyone was right - she might have had her driving licence, but Irina was a terrible driver. So, he took over. What he did notice was the fact that along the way, Irina took pictures of him.

"Steve." Irina said, knowing she had been caught. "Had to send him proof that you are here." He turned his head and smiled at her. She was sitting sideways in the keep, with her legs sprawled over his lap, which was most likely illegal, but he didn't care. 

"Honestly, doll." Bucky said, turning his head to look at her "I don't know how to thank you, aint nobody ever done somethin' like this for me." 

"Get used to it, Bucky." she said with a smile "You deserve the world and more, and I will continue asking Steve what you always wanted to do back in your day, so you can experience the things you never got to do." That statement pulled at his heart, because there was so much he had planned back in the howling commandos days, there was so much he had stolen from him. Suddenly, that little box was burning a whole in his pocket, and he rested his elbow against the door of the car as he ran his thumb along his lower lip, his right hand clenching around the steering wheel. His anxiety was spiraling through the roof, and when he turned and looked at her, she was playing with his dog tags that were draped around her neck. Was that his sign? Absolutely. Turning his head to the desert-like view in front, he ran a tongue over his bottom lip. 

"Marry me." The words were out before he knew it, and he felt her shifting her legs moving off his lap. God. Maybe this wasn't a good idea? 

"What?" Irina asked, her voice wavering, and he pulling over to the side of the road, pulling the handbrake up, and he turned to look at her.

"Marry me." He repeated the words, and he saw Irina's eyes widen, her mouth slacking and god...His heart began thumping against his chest, wanting to break free of its restraints.

"Are you being serious right now, James?" Irina asked and he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, looking away "I really hope you aren't joking." Her  shifted, taking that little box out of his pocket, and he turned, handing it to her and looked at him, before glancing down at the box, her eyes darting between both quickly "You're being serious." she whispered and he nodded her head.

"Aint gonna be anybody else, doll." He said, and she tilted her head, her features softening as she nodded her head "Yes?" he asked, because truthfully he...couldn't believe that she actually would say yes, and again she nodded "Use your words, peach."

"Yes." she whispered as the corner of her lip tugged into a smile. That thump of his heart accelerated.

​"You aint even looked at the ring yet, doll." he pointed out and she alughed, looking away, before he gaze landed back on him.

"I don't need to look at it to say yes, James." She admitted, and he realised that when they were having a more..serious conversation, she always used his first name. She shifted, moving towards him, and his hands instantly went to her waist as she pressed her lips against his, and he pressed into it. He felt so full, so happy. This was another thing he had wanted back in his howling commando days; a wife. A family. And now that life he had wanted, that was stolen away from him, was slowly being given back to him, and it made him feel so full. As he pulled away from the kiss, Irina rested her head against the crook of his neck and he let go of her waist, moving his hand to take that little box from her hand, opening it and when he took the ring out, he took her hand with his metal one, and he noticed how her hands were shaking. God. Was she just as nervous as him? He slid the ring onto her left hand ring finger, and he felt her smiling into his neck.

"Had it made just the same as my ma's." Bucky admitted, and she wrapped her small hand around his much larger one, to which he brought her to his lips, kissing her hand.  Once she pulled away, he could see the tears that had rolled down her eyes. "Happy tears?" he asked, and she nodded her head furiously, looking at the ring.

"Your old man had taste then." She said, and he lifted his hand, pushing the tears away from her tears and she looked at him with a smile "I love you so much, James." she whispered, tilting her head and the palm of his hand rubbed against her cheek.

​"Love you too, peach." and he meant it. He loved her beyond what words could ever describe. Now he was a man who was engaged, a man who would soon have a wife. And that made him feel beyond happy, he could burst "You might want to bring Nat and tell her." 

Irina raised her brow at him before laughing and nodding, and she lifted her phone as Bucky switched on the engine. He heard the facetime tone, and then Nats voice "Hey, hows the vacay?" Nats voice came.

"I have something that you probably already knew about." Irina sung and she lifted her hand, showing the camera the ring with a smile and Bucky looked at her as she drove, and he couldn't help the grin that pulled on his features. God, he fucking loved her. He heard the screams hoots from the other side.

"She said yes!" Tony's voice came "Well, Barnes. Thankyou for taking physco sally off my hands, can't thank you enough for that."

"Thats my soon to be wife you're talkin' about, Stark." Bucky said and he heard Tonys laugh.

"Congrats, Buck. Really happy for you man." Steve's voice came through "Aren't you glad I told you to go for it that night of the party? Just think, you could still be fighting your feelings."

​"Shut up, Steve." Bucky mumbled, but he had a smile on his face as he spoke and when he looked over at Irina, she had a grin "I would have done it eventually."

"Listen, I don't care about Natasha or spangled pants here, I want either best man or bridesmaid." Sam said and Irina burst out into laughter.

"Excuse me, thats my role. Don't even think about it or i will kick your ass." Natasha said, and he turned and saw Irina biting her lip. Did she look nervous?

"And my role. Think you forget that me and Buck literally have known eachother since World War II." Steve said and Bucky snorted, hearing Sams disappointed sigh.

"Alright, well, we will let you both get on with...whatever you're doing, be safe, don't push the old man into the Canyon and....Yeah, congrats."  Tony said and Irina smiled at him, nodding her head before the call ended and she set her phone aside and Bucky turned his head and looked at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked and she cleared her throat, tilting her head "Peach." he said firmly.

"I don't like people looking at me..." Irina suddenly said and she gulped "So like, the thought of....doing it all the traditional way is like...scary." 

"You're talking to a man who can't be in crowds without freaking out." Bucky said. and Irina laughed, nodding "We don't have to do it that way, matter of fact, we won't do it that way."

"No?" she asked almost a little hopeful and he shook his head, scrunching his nose at her and she smiled, "They will be so pissed."

"Not about them, doll. Its about us." He said and she nodded, shifting over in the seat and he rested his hand on the board between both seats, turning it palm upwards and she put her hand in his, to which he immediately entwined their fingers "Again, best birthday ever." She laughed at his words, nodding her head and he turned and saw her cheeks dust with a light tracing of pink. They spent the afternoon driving about, getting out and looking at the view, but Bucky couldn't help but notice that ring on her finger, god. He couldn't describe how happy it made him feel. The view of the Canyon was amazing, the waterfall, everything. It was perfect. When they returned back, they got dinner in the restaurant and for once, he actually felt at ease. Each time he looked at that ring as it sparkled underneath the lights, he felt that little jolt in his heart. If he had of been told all those years ago when he was captured by HYDRA, when they performed experiments on him, that this would happen - he would never have believed the person. Even when he was in Wakanda, he would have thought the person was crazy. But here she was, playing with his dog tags she wore around her neck, having a conversation with him about something he couldn't comprehend because he could only think about the fact of how darn fucking lucky he was. 

When they went back to the room, she all but forced him to go into the bathroom and forbade him to come out until she called him. Which he did. He stood looking in the mirror, clicking his tongue until Irina finally called him and when he opened the door, the old man near had a heart attack. Irina was sitting on the bed, wearing a lacy red bra that barely even covered her breasts and little red matching panties that...basically werent there. A grin pulled on her lips as he stood staring at her, saliva pooling in his mouth as he gulped, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he dragged it between his teeth "God damn it...doll..." he slowly breathed out, walking forward and she moved back on the bed, causing him to furrow his brows at her.

"Take off your clothes." She said, tilting her head and like the good soldier he was, he did as he was commanded. He eagerly took off his boots, stripping himself until he was naked before her and he watched as he gaze trailed over him, smiling as it stopped on his hardening sock before moving up to lock on with his "Its your birthday, you get to choose whatever you want to do." 

God. His mind went blank before a smirk pulled on his lips "Whatever I want to do?" he asked and she nodded slowly, running her tongue along her bottom lip "I wanna fuck you." He replied bluntly 

"I know." hse said "And that will help. But, we can do whatever comes to your imagination." He puffed his cheeks, blowing air out before he nodded "Have you decided, sargeant?" God. Her calling him that like this was just...it did things to do.

"Take those panties off for a start." he said and she nodded "Wait." he said as she moved to take them off, and he moved towards her "Can I rip them off?" she raised her brow, before nodding her head "Fuck, ill buy you more. Every colour, peach, just so I can.." he put his hand on the fabric of her panties, running his fingertips against her core until he wrapped his hand around the fabric, pulling at them and they came away, he moved to the straps that clung to her hips, pulling and letting the fabric snap free until they were in pieces, throwing them aside "Sit on my face." she almost faltered at them, but she then nodded "Now." he said and he lay down on the bed, putting his head on the pillows "When I sat sit on my face, I don't mean hover about me, I mean sit. Don't think about me not breathin', doll. I'd die a happy man." She slowly climbed over the bed, moving herself until she was hovering above his head "all the way, doll." he said as he wrapped his arms around her thighs, easily bringing her core down against his face, and it was delightful.

He was like a man starving as he greedily ate at her core, his tongue running against her folds, his hands grabbing on the flesh of her rear as his tongue moved to her entrance, poking in as he began moving it, thrusting into her as he collected her sweet nectar. He could hear her moans, her hands gripping at his hair, and the hands that were gripping and kneading the flesh of her rear let go, moving to collide against her skin as he spanked her and suddenly she lifted herself off him "Do you want me to-" She was cut off by Bucky's feral growl, his hands gripping at her hips to pull her back down onto her face "Oh.." she whispered breathlessly, and again, his metal hand grabbed and kneaded at her rear as his flesh hand collected against her other cheek, kneading the flesh once it made contact. Moving his metal hand up, he had never done this before, he moved it to her entrance, slowly pushing it into her and he heard her breath hitch "Fuck.." she cried out and he used his flesh hand to lift her hips.

"Too much, peach?" he asked and she shook her head, looking down at him with those darn, needy eyes.

"Please don't stop." she whispered, rolling her hips, grinding herself against his metal hand that still hand a digit within her and a wicked grin pulled on his lips as he pulled her back down onto him once more. His mouth went to her clit, flicking against it as his metal digit continued moving within her, he added a second and he cried out, gripping his hair tightly as his flesh hand collided with her rear again "Fuck.." she whispered as he curled his fingers within her, hitting that spongy spot inside of her that he knew would would make her fall apart. His tongue pressed down on her clit, his curled fingers thrusting, hitting against that spot repeatedly "Fuck..Fu- yes.." she let out a cry of pleasure as her walls clamped down around him, and he pulled his digits from her, mouth his mouth to her entrance as his hand went to her rear, gripping onto it once more as she grinded against his face, and he collected her sweet juices that leaked from her, lapping at her entrance until she came to a stop. 

She pulled herself away from him, panting beside him as she fell back into the pillows "I prefer that hand better." she said breathlessly, and he turned his head to look at her. Really? He moved, hovering above her as his right hand moved her legs up around his waist, then he moved. She was still wearing that red, lacy bra. Looking at her, his gaze went up to hers "Yes. You can rip that off too." At her words his metal hand came up, pulling at the bra until it snapped off, tossing it aside and he instantly bent his head, placing an open-mouthed kiss on her breasts. 

"Best." he ran his tongue over her nipple, sucking it into his mouth, letting his teeth graze upon it as he let it it go "Birthday." He moved to the other, paying similiar attention to it, but pulling on it with his teeth before he let go "Ever." moving up, he captured her lips, and he felt her soft, muffled laughter against his lips as he brought his knees up, both hands parting her legs until they settled on her hips. His right hand dipped down, coming between them as he took hold of his cock, it was hard, it was aching, his precum was leaking from the mushroom shaped head and all he needed was her. Lining himself up with her entrance, he pushed in slowly, letting her feel him take her inch by inch and he gasped softly as he parted from her lips, moving down to her neck as he ran his tongue along it, peppering kisses as well as he bottomed out, filling her to the hilt. Pulling his hips back, he rocked them back forward. "Fuckin' feel so good, doll." he whispered against her ear, and she turned her head, placing a soft kiss against his jaw "Always bein' the best girl for me." He began rocking hard and deep into her, and her soft moans filled the air, the sounds he loved to hear. Pushing himself up on his knees, both hands took hold of her hips as he tilted them slightly, finding the best angle for them both. His movements began slow and deep, watching her features as her mouth opened, soft breathless moans escaping them "Want more, peach?" he asked and she nodded her head furiously "Anything for my best girl." he began picking up his pace, his grip on her hips tightening as she began crying out.

​The feeling of being at home within her was always the best. It always made him feel more alive than he could ever describe. Little bolts of electricity spread through his veins like wildfire, his pace increasing until he was buried against her core, pounding into her at a brutal pace, lifting her hips slightly of the bed as he hit against that spot with each stroke "James.." she moaned, he loved hearing his name on her lips, he loved hearing her cry it out was he watched her fall to tiny pieces beneath him "Right there...yes...god..." Even hearing those words nearly had him emptying himself in her. 

He knew he was close. He could feel that bristly heat prickling over his skin. His metal hands grip on her waist slackened and he brought it to her clit, since she preferred that one, and he began flicking it lightly and he watched her back arch .

"How we doin', doll?" he had to check in. Her eyes opened to look at him, and she nodded her head furiously "Words." he slowed the pace down and she almost whined at him. 

"Please don't fucking stop." she breathed out, he tilted his head at her, a wicked grin spreading across his features at seeing that faint pink blush spread across her cheeks at her own words. God he loved the way she blushed, how she even got shy at times at her own words. She went to move, to sit up and he obviously knew what her intentions were - to climb on top of him. No. He pushed her down gently and shook his head.

"Tsk, tsk, peach." he said mockingly "Its my birthday, remember? Im allowed to do what I want." She stared up at him and nodded her head, running her tongue along her lower lip as he started rocking into her in slow, even hard strokes "Do ya' know what ya' do to me, peach?" he asked.

"Tell me." she whispered, and he raised his brow at her,  his hands released their grip on her waist as his movements stilled, running along her sides, reaching her breasts and running smoothly over them until they came back to her waist again, gripping her.

"You make my mind turn to fuzz." he said, and with each word he began moving, his hips rocking against her core harder "Cant think about nothin' but you, peach." he increased his pace, and she was crying out underneath him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself together for much longer. Moving his left hand, he brought it to her clit, rubbing against it "Let go, doll. Gotta let go for me." he leaned down, his right hand pressing against the pillow to hold himself up, and she brought her hands to his chest, her nails dragging along it and he caught sight of that ring on her finger and couldn't help but smile.

"F...James.." her breathing hitches as her body tensed, and he continued rubbing those circles as he moved at an unforgiveable pace, pounding against her core with his weight buried against it, and he felt that rise in him, the prickly heat spreading across her skin as her walls clenched down around him, her nails digging into his chest as she gripped at him, a deep grunt vibrating from his chest as the pleasure washed over him as he released his seed within her. His hips came to a slow rock as he leaned down, his face pressing into the crook of her neck, and she turned her head, pressing soft kisses against his cheek. He turned his head, capturing her lips in a soft, passionate kiss as his hips came to a halt.

"Swear, peach, you're gonna give this old man a heart attack." he whispered against her lips as he pulled back from the kiss as she laughed softly.

"What is it with you and these names?" she asked him, and he furrowed his brows at her "Peach, doll, kitten." 

"You are datin' a man." Suddenly he stopped, running his tongue over his bottom lip and she raised her brow. "You are engaged to a man from the 40s, peach. What do ya' expect? Me to call you, baby, babe."

"No. Please do not." she said, shaking her head slowly, and he grinned at her "No, James. Those two words make me cringe." he sat up, slowly pulling from her before lying down beside her and she shifted as he lifted his arm, and she put her head on his chest, humming softly.

"So peach it is." Bucky mumbled, turning his head to press a kiss against the crown of her head "Kitten, sugar, sweets. I have a lot more." she laughed, placing a soft kiss against his chest "Ya' don't approve of my names for you?"

"I do." she admitted, turning her head to look at him. "Can't be no worse than Logan Paul." The nickname Stark gave her, why the fuck did Stark call her that?

"Why does he call you that? I mean, it is another guy's name, peach. Kinda' rude, especially now that you're engaged and all that." He mumbled thoughtfully and Irina burst out into laughter and it actually startled him "You.. was your ex called Logan Paul? Not fuckin' right him callin' you that if it was."

"No. oh my...Bucky.." she continued laughing, shaking her head "Its some like..famous guy who just wants to fight everybody and everything." she said between her laughter and he furrowed his brows, nodding. Then it was fitting "I don't want to fight anybody."

"Really?" he asked, looking down at her and she grinned at him "You floored me the first time you met me, punched me twice, also iv seen you repeatedly stab before in the neck, and you all but wanted to go into the boxing ring with Sharon Carter." 

"Last one was very justified," Irina said, her gaze drifting. "I'm not that bad."

"Murderous kitten." He instantly said and she turned her head to look at him, smiling "Wouldn't change ya' for the world, peach." He admitted and she smiled at him.

"Good. You've no choice now." She said, showing him the ring on her finger, and he smiled, taking her hand and pressing a kiss against the ring "Stuck with me."

"Gon' be worse than brainwashing." he mumbled with a grin, remembering how it was what he said when he had to all but be with her all the time due to her being a hit on her. He could see that little sparkle in her eye. God, he couldn't think of anything more perfect than her. It was impossible, she was beyond perfect in his eyes. "Best birthday ever." and he meant it, not just because of the...sex...but because today he got two things back that he was deprived of during his time with HYDRA. He was getting the life that was stolen from him.

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[buckyalpine]

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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