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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

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Outside the Lines 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsessive compulsive behaviour, kidnapping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has her routine and her fellow patient gets in the way of those.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, (lumberjack AU)

Note: I'm feeling it so why not.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Steve takes you downstairs. You marvel at the large kitchen, finished with dark walnut and brass. Bucky sits, dragging his fingertips over the island, leaning as he stares grimly at the wall. His eyes drift to you slowly and you flinch, cowering and shifting to hide partly behind Steve.

“She calm down?” He asks brusquely as he taps his metal fingers on the wood.

“Buck, she just needed to settle in, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Steve reaches back blindly and grabs your arm, drawing you forward, “she’s going to apologise.”

You look at him. You can’t hide your surprise at his declaration. Apologise. For what? They lied to you. How could you know any better? But you suppose you should’ve listened. You nod and Steve lets you go.

You face Bucky and step closer, folding one hand over the other.

“Bucky,” you begin.

“Sweetheart,” Steve hovers behind you, “you call him sergeant.”

Your lips part and you look down at your feet. You place them within the lines of the hardwood and count to three. You’d been standing right on the lines. That's bad luck!

You look up again and bring your hands over your chest.

“Sergeant,” you voice quavers and you swallow to steady it, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. But I know now and I’ll be good because I know you’re just trying to help me.” Your eyes well as you remember his angry voice, “I’m real sorry about throwing the tea at you. I was only afraid.” You touch your cheeks and sway back and forth, “I’m not a mean person.”

His blue eyes are icy and his jaw set. He arches a brow and peeks at Steve. He raises his chin and lets his expression soften as he turns to you fully. He tilts his head as he grips his hip.

“Doll,” he says softly, “I forgive you. But I won’t a second time. Got it?”

“Yes,” you pout.

“We talked,” Steve says, “she understands now.”

“Ah,” Bucky hums, “good.”

You nod and look from one to the other. Steve touches the small of your back as he steps up beside you. You slouch and shy away from him.

“Why don’t you show the sergeant how sorry you are and make him a nice breakfast?” Steve suggests, “you know what they say about men.”

You shake your head. Who is they and what do they say?

“The way to his heart is through his stomach,” Steve chuckles.

“Oh,” you bat your lashes, “so… um, what should I make?”

“Coffee,” Bucky grumbles as he rubs his eyes.

“There’s bacon and eggs in the fridge, can you cook that?”

“Yes! Yes, I can cook,” you proclaim, “I know how.”

“Of course, honey,” Steve drags his fingertips up your arm, “you can do so much. I know you can. A lot more than you think. And we just want to help you learn how to do more.”

You don’t want to seem ungrateful. It’s only confusing. You did overreact. You didn’t even let them explain. It’s no wonder they got a bit pushy.

“Thank you,” you chirp, “you’re so nice.” You look at his hand as he caresses above your elbow, “and this is a very nice house. I’ve never been to a cabin before. It’s so nice you would bring me here.”

“Ha, yeah, you know, me and Bucky built it,” Steve explains.

“You did?” You round your eyes and take another look around. You can’t imagine all that work. “Wow!”

"Coffee," Bucky grits as he leans his chin in his hand.

"Oh, yes," you twiddle your fingers and flutter around, watching your feet as you step between the trim of the hardwood slats of the floor, "I can make... coffee. I don't drink it you know, just tea. Coffee makes me... hyper!"

You spin cluelessly. Not knowing where to begin. You have no idea where everything is. There are no labels like your apartment. Every shelf, every cupboard has the precise contents listed on the outside, just like you like. So everything is in order. You hate chaos.

Bucky grumbles and Steve lets out a soft breath, "sweetheart, one step at a time," he girds.

Steve comes forward as you step back to watch him open a cupboard. He pulls down a bag of coffee, burlap with print stamped across it. The smell of its contents seep into your nose. Comforting even if its too bitter for your taste.

"Oh, thanks," you step forward carefully and hug the bag with your hands.

"Grinder is here," he points, "and the press."

You look between both and try to hide your confusion. Oh. You don't know how to do all that. You chew your lip and loosen the drawstring at the top of the bag. You stare inside tenuously.

He opens a drawer and takes out a metal measuring cup. He offers it to you.

"One scoop."

You take it and scoop out the beans. Then you just stand there with it. You look at him and cringe.

"In the grinder," he directs gently as he pulls forward the little square machine and pops the top.

You pour the beans inside, the rattle of them making a small rhythm that carries in your head. You bop your head, trying to follow it as your nerves get the better of you. You can't help but make up little nonsensical songs in your head when you feel so lost.

He shuts the lid and steps back.

"Press the button."

You obey and press the button. There's a short whir then the machine quiets again.

He stifles a laugh, "hold it down."

You push and keep your finger jammed. You watch the blade turn the beans to powder and he gestures for you to stop. He slides over the press and pulls a spoon out of the open drawer. You reach over to shut it without thinking. He hesitates but says nothing about it.

"So, six table spoons. Open it up."

You try to flip the top of the machine open like he did but it won't budge. You grab it firmly and try to force it open. He moves forward.

"You gotta hit the switch--"

Suddenly the compartment detaches from the rest of the machine and the lid opens, dusting you and the floor with coffee grinds. You stand in stunned silence as a growl rolls up Bucky's throat.

"Steve, just make the coffee, I'm dying here."

"I'm sorry," you push your lip out, "I made a mess."

You look around at the smatter of grinds all around you and littered across your dress. You shake it off and shiver. You glance between the men.

"I'm very sorry," you apologise again, "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. Don't be mad."

"It's fine, sweetheart," Steve reaches to touch your shoulder and you flinch, "get the broom out of the closet. Clean it up."

"Uh, uh, alright," you shake off the front of your dress before turning on your heel.

You go to the closet, the weight of Bucky's gaze following you. You open the door and find a broom, taking it out with the dustpan. You shut it and look past it to the doorway that gives a peak of another; a door with windows that look out on a leafy yard.

"Doll," Bucky warns from behind you.

"Sorry, was just looking," you spin and nearly trip over the bristles.

"Can't go outside until we can trust you," he adds.

"You don't trust me," you stand dumbly with the broom and pan. "Why not?"

He gives you a look. Your lips form an O. Yeah, the tea. Fair.

"Sorry," you repeat.

You set to sweeping up the grinds and Steve shows you where the bin is. Then he goes about making the coffee himself as you watch. He peeks over and smiles.

"Bacon and eggs are in the fridge."

You nod and go to the large fridge, a wooden front that makes it blend in with the rest of the decor. You open it and find the eggs easily but can't figure which paper packet is bacon. Not until you see the scribble sharpy scrawled on the other side.

You go back to the counter and peer around. Just as clueless as ever. Steve directs you to the pots and pans and you take out what you need. He tells you to put the kettle on and you stop to do that as he stands back and watches you. It suddenly feels like a test.

You struggle to catch the gas burner, making yourself dizzy as the flame doesn't light.

"She's gonna burn this place down," Bucky snarls.

"Relax," Steve steps forward and gets the burner going for you. "There."

"She can't do anything on her own."

Steve retreats and points at Bucky. You don't look back as he approaches the other man and you hear the scratch of a whisper between them. You put the kettle on the lit burner, then lay the skillet on another. You focus and repeat what Steve did, managing to light the second.

"I did it!"

Bucky sighs as Steve praises you, "good girl."

You could smile. You're good. You can do things.

You turn on the oven, that's easier. You lay out bacon on a sheet and wait for it to preheat as you add oil to the pan. You search the cupboard and find a bowl to mix the eggs. You examine the spice rack, taking your pick of the many containers.

You shake your head and seal your lips as you have to smell them to see which is which. Steve hums before he speaks.

"What's wrong?"

You shrug, "nothing..."

He arches his brow and lifts his chin slightly. You clutch the oregano and gulp.

"Captain," you clear your throat, "in my apartment, I label stuff so I know. I can't find anything without the labels."

"Labels?" He repeats thoughtfully.

"Use your head. Remember," Bucky scoffs and receives a nudge from Steve.

"Labels, how about we make that your first project. Bucky can go in to town and get you a nice label maker of your own," Steve looks at his companion, "won't you?"

Bucky scowls, "if I don't get coffee soon, I'm not doing shit."

You widen your eyes and cover your mouth. Steve tuts, "Buck, watch your mouth."

"She's an adult, she can handle it."

"You're an adult too so stop being a brat," Steve warns, "sweetheart, keep going. I'll get his coffee."

He nears and pulls down a mug from yet another cupboard. He fills it and holds it up, "the sergeant takes his black, I don't mind a bit of cream. Okay?"

"Black," you nod at Bucky, "cream," you look back at Steve, "I'll try to remember."

"I know," he winks before he walks away.

He hands over the mug to Bucky and comes back to pour his own but you're there first. You put down the oregano and reach up to grab a red mug. You shut the cupboard and fill it, scurrying around Steve to grab the cream from the fridge. You add a little and offer him the cup. A grin slowly spread across his face.

"You're so sweet, thank you," he takes it, "you're a good learner, you know that?"

"I am?" You smile.

"Very smart girl," he raises the cup, blowing across it before taking a sip, "perfect. You got it just right."

You clap your hands together proudly, "see," you face Bucky, "I can do it, sergeant."

He squints at you over his own steaming mug and says nothing as he drinks. His blue eyes pierce you coldly. Your face falls and you tuck your chin down, turning back to take the oregano and you go back to the bowl of eggs.

You can do this. You're not going to burn the eggs. Or the bacon.

"Do you have a timer?" You ask. That's the only way you ever get anything done but you don't have your phone anymore, which means all your alarms are useless.

"Yep," Steve grabs a small apple shaped timer from the corner of the counter and places it by the stove, "just twist."

"Thank you, Captain," you take it and look at the numbers.

He leans in and lowers his voice, "he'll come around. You'll show him, I know you will, sweetheart."

You bite down your lip and look at him. His eyes fall to your mouth as it curves, just a little, your cheeks burning.

"I'm trying," you eke out.

"I know," he reaches to rub your arm, dragging his hand up around your shoulder and playing with the sleeve of your dress, "did I tell you how nice you look?"

"Thank you," you preen.

"Doesn't she look nice, Bucky?" He steps back and crosses to the island where Bucky nurses his cup.

"Not bad," Bucky says, not quite a compliment but not as bad as you expect.

You'll just have to do better. Put all those tools that Dr. Makira gave you to work.

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viking-raider · 9 months

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This is some Syverson energy! He'd so know how to open his belt with one hand.

It also itches that Muse I got a year ago, where Sy is a Lumberjack, (the family business), after he gets out of the Army, and falls in love with Reader, who's an Environmentalist, protesting at the site Sy is felling trees.

#henry cavill #henrycavill #viking-raider fics #Syverson #captain syverson #cpt syverson #Lumberjack #bradley.thor - Instagram

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snowfll · 4 months

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took a break on here to focus on my wattpad fic, but i missed writing on here! send in requests so i can get back to writing!

also why not add a lil edit for my treech fic on wattpad :)

@ snowfll on wattpad

📖 - i bet on losing dogs.

💌- treech

👤- vienna hawthorne

🎬- the ballad of songbirds and snakes

#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #treech #the hunger games #treech x reader #treech fanfiction #treech tbosas #i love treech #lumberjack boy #district seven #mentor x treech #wattpad fic #requests open

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thornsnvultures · 1 year

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Already There

Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x plus size!fem!reader

cw: slight angst, 950 words

a/n: a short follow up to my fic Ooey Gooey after Bucky leaves with Sam. I've had this 2/3rds written for like 5 or 6 months now 🙃 finished up the rest of it for @the-slumberparty 's week two prompt: Write a drabble/one shot as a continuation to one of your previous works. Based on the song "I'm Already There" by Lonestar. divider by @/firefly-graphics

Bucky can't sleep. Anxiety seeping through his bones. His body isn't used to being on the road for this long anymore.

Sitting at the edge of the too soft, too small bed in just his boxers. Even though the room is cool he's covered in sweat from a night of tossing and turning.

Bucky runs his hands through his hair and thinks of you. How your warm smile can wipe away all his worries. It's why he starts every day with you at the general store. And why he feels your absence so strongly now.

He wants to see you.

It's been days but it feels like years. His phone is a brick, built for making emergency calls out in the middle of nowhere, not video calls like Sam's fancy new iPhone. It still has an antenna for fuck's sake. Until you, Bucky didn't have a reason for a real cell phone. He knows Sam wouldn't mind Bucky using his but Bucky's not waking him up so he can tease him about giving his sort of girlfriend a call at one am.

So Bucky sits there, contemplating. He scratches his stubbled jaw, worrying at his lower lip. Would you even pick up this late at night? You said you'd answer no matter what, but this is different from his usual 9am calls when you're already up and most likely at work.

"Fuck."

Sam stirs behind him on the other bed but doesn't wake. Bucky throws on a pair of sweats and heads for the door to the balcony, grabbing the brick on his way out.

The cool night air wraps around Bucky his sweat slick skin feeling tight as he closes the sliding glass door. There's not much of a view, just the parking lot of this old motel and the fog dense trees beyond.

But the moon, she's nearly full and so, so bright.

Bucky takes a deep breath and dials your number, pushing away thoughts of whether or not he deserves to hear your voice right now. It doesn't matter, he can be selfish for a moment.

The phone rings twice and in those short seconds Bucky's heart rate skyrockets almost painfully until, finally, you answer.

"Bucky?"

The breathy way you whisper his name makes his stomach tighten. It's a moment too long before he responds.

"Hey."

"Everything okay?"

Bucky can hear your sheets rustling, the switch to your lamp clicking on as you presumably sit up in bed.

"Yeah...yeah I'm sorry for waking you. Just couldn't sleep."

He hesitates, the frayed drawstring hanging from his sweats unraveling even more as Bucky plays with it while he takes a deep, shaking breath.

"I -- uh, I wanted to hear your voice."

"Oh."

You sound surprised. Bucky hesitates.

"I'm sorry, it's late I'll let you get back to sleep."

"No! No, it's okay. I'm glad you called."

"Yeah?"

"Of course, Bucky," your giggle makes Bucky smile, feel that warmth spread through his chest again like it did the last time he saw you. Filling him to burst with that one sound.

"God I miss you, sugar. Sam's keeping me up all night with his snoring."

"Oh, no. Is it that bad?," you gasp in mock horror.

Bucky smirks as one of Sam's snores rattles through the glass door behind him.

"The worst, sugar. He could wake the dead."

"Should'a sent you off with ear plugs, huh?"

"Mm, you'll have to remind me next time."

Bucky pauses at the prospect of a "next time", of leaving you again when he's just got started loving you like he's wanted to for what feels like forever.

"I miss you, sugar."

"I miss you too, Buck," he can hear your sweet smile. It makes his heart ache.

Bucky's throat feels tight. He didn't know how much he needed to see your beautiful face every day until he left.

"Is it silly to feel this way? Like I can't breathe without you here."

"It's not silly," you sniffle on the other end of the line and Bucky almost regrets saying anything.

"I can't wait to feel you again. Take you in my arms and not let you go."

You laugh into the receiver and Bucky can't stop from smiling.

"Sam will have to pry me off you with a crowbar to get you off me and back to the Mill."

"He's welcome to try," Bucky practically snarls.

"I love you, Bucky."

He swallows the lump in his throat, taken aback by your sudden admission.

"I know you're having a hard time, but I'm right there with you, sleeping under the same moonlight and wishing you were right here with me. It's not silly. You're not asking for too much. And I miss you way more than you miss me."

Bucky scoffs at your teasing and wipes at his eyes. "No way, sugar.

"Prove it to me when you get back, then. Show me how much you missed me when you see me again and we'll decide then."

"I love you, sugar."

"I know. Make it back home safe so I can have you all to myself."

Bucky adjusts his sleep pants, imagining all the ways he can have you just how he wants to.

"Get some sleep, Buck. I need to know you'll be safe out there on the road."

"I will. I promise."

"Good. Good night, handsome.

"Goodnight, sugar."

Bucky hangs up, giving the antenna a satisfying click shut. He takes one last look at the moon before heading back inside and crawling under the covers. For the first time since before his accident, Bucky falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. And he dreams of you, bathed in moonlight.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagines #lumberjack!bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabble #navy and roo sleepover #my fics

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wh0reforoldmen · 11 months

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I'm Sorry

Pairing: Softdark!Lumberjack! Bucky X Fem!Reader

warnings: Angst, fluff??, manipulation, implied imprisonment, implied dubcon/noncon depending on how you interpret it, Not beta red, written on my phone while sleep deprived, tell me if I missed anything.

word count: 1.13k

summary: You made Bucky mad, and he makes you apologize for your "wrong doing"

You didn't hear the door slam, you didn't even hear him come into the house or walk upstairs and open the door.

"Honey," he spoke from the doorway, his voice soft and soft and smooth.

You sucked up a breath and slowly lifted your head, the ache at the back of your neck made you wince. Your arms and legs were bound to the bed so you couldn't escape.

Bucky had two things in hand, a small thin box and something that looked like a bouquet. The black room made it hard to tell just from the light behind him.

"Hey there," he greeted, turning on the lights with a smile on his face.

Wincing at the sudden brightness, you closed your eyes and waited to adjust to the light before opening them. The first thing that caught your eye wasn't the gifts, but how sweaty he was, his red and white chequered flannel shirt was open revealing his chiselled and toned chest, his skin sheen with sweat, his hair was scruffed up, strands escaped the hair tie and was free to go wild, a few strands sticking up from his scalp. You couldn't lie, he always looked good after chopping down some trees, and while he's doing it is even better. Some days if you wake up early enough, you can hear him grunt and groan, followed by the sound of wood splitting.

Shaking your head and clearing your mind, your eyes wander to the gifts; a box of your favourite chocolate and a bouquet, bright red and fresh roses and soft pink tulips with other flowers and green decorations you didn't know the name of. It was nice, considerate even, but it was from him. And you didn't want anything from him.

"You like them? I picked them myself, thought of you," he explained with a smile, walking over to you, his heavy boots making the floorboards creak with every step. You still wonder how he gets around the house with no shoes in silence.

"Don't want them," you hissed, turning your head and facing away from him.

A month you've been here. A month being in this room. A month being in this house unwillingly. You just walked passed his shop a few months ago, and here you are, tied to a bed so you can't escape, no one looking for you, and with James fucking Barnes. The hot lumberjack who is the most fucked up person you've ever met!

Bucky was stunned at your words, he gets up at the ass crack of dawn to work, and then he feeds you and cares for you even when you're having a bad day. He thought it'll be nice to treat you, but this is how you repay him?

"I'm sorry?" He asked as it came out as a chuckle, keeping his anger at bay.

"You heard me! I. Don't.want.them." You spat, turning your heat, eyebrows furrow, your jaw tight before you looked away again.

The control over his anger snapped.

"Listen here, missy!" He yelled, grabbing your shirt and yanking you towards him, earning him a gasp.

"I'm the only one who works around here; I feed you, I look after you, I make sure you're comfortable, I make sure that you're happy here. And this is the thanks I get?" He snarled. "I try my damn hardest, and this is what I get. Someone who is an ungrateful girl! Thanks, it lets me know I'm appreciated around here!"

He threw you back down on the bed, bouncing at the force as you watched him storm out, slamming the door behind him and storming down the stairs. You didn't know when you started to cry but you felt the hot tears trickle down your cheeks. You hated yelling in general, and that lost you. You hated it.

You kept your sobs at bay as you laid down on the comfortable bed, the soft pillows embarrassing you and your tears. You couldn't even hug yourself since the restraints were too short.

You stared at the blank ceiling as tears continued to flow. You didn't get it though. You were crying over him yelling at you. He was upset. And that made you upset. Why? It shouldn't have! What's happening?

It took you a few minutes to calm down but the sounds of Bucky grunting and the sound of the logs being split in two in one or two hits wasn't a good sign.

You turned to your side and listened to his grunts as they lulled you to sleep, the pillow still wet on your cheek.

Bucky had walked back in a few hours later, his anger gone and what was left was hurt. He wanted to care for you. He loves you! Yes, he did take you from your home, but it was for a good cause! You love him too. He knows it. You may not yet, but he knows that deep down in that big heart of yours, you love him and you'll forgive everything that he's done.

He sighed as he made his way upstairs with a glass of water. He saw red when he was yelling at you, but when he heard the soft sobs after he walked out made his heart shatter into a million pieces. But it is what you deserve. You're in his house, and he rests you like a guest but you're rude. Hopefully, you've learnt.

Slowly, he opened the door to your room and smiled as he saw you sleeping peacefully. You did look a little uncomfortable due to the soft rope, but he had to ensure you weren't going anywhere.

Bucky silently walked over to you, sliding off his shoes and quietly laying next to you on top of the covers. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to his chest. You must have woken up from it because you looked behind you, your face had fear written all over it.

"I do anything for you, I do everything. I thought that you'd like them, but apparently not…" he mumbled, shaking his head "think you have something to say to me,"

Your brain screamed at you to not say anything, to keep your eyes away from his, but your eyes met his beautiful blue ones. The softness towards you, the love and admiration no one ever gave you. "I'm sorry, Bucky. Having a bad day…" you whisper, looking down. "I do like them I just… miss home,"

"This is your home, honey. I promise, it will look better than this with our children, but baby steps," he smiled, planting a kiss on your head before kissing down your cheek, to your neck.

"I think I have an idea how to cheer you up,"

#bucky banres #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan imagine #x reader #Sebastian Stan #lumberjack #lumberjack!bucky #softdark!Bucky barnes #soft dark fic #soft dark lumberjack! Bucky

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buckgasms · 2 years

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Heyyy!!!!!! First of all, congratulations on your 1.5k!!!!! That's so awesome:)

Second, idk if you're still taking this kind of requests anymore, but if you are could you please, please, please with a cherry on top write something with sub!lumberjack!Bucky. Just imagine that huge hunk of a man, with muscles bulging underneath the flannels, whining desperate for mommy to let him come. Know that he could overpower you easily, that that's not how good boys behave. With tears in his eyes because he's been right on the edge far to many times, but still taking it because he knows mommy with give him a treat later. Pegging being the treat, because getting his ass stretched by mommy, is his favourite.

If you don't feel comfortable with this, it's fine, but I feel like this would be such a fun thing to explore 💜💜

Anonymous said may we have edging with your lumberbuck pls and thank you

Ok this is something very new for me because I am totally a submissive and a pillow princess so please bear that in mind when reading this fic!

Having said that I could not get this thought out of my head so I figured it would be worth a try! I suppose it's an AU of an AU 🤣

I changed the 'mommy' bit of the request just because that was too much for me, but hopefully it still works 🤞🏻

Come celebrate 1.5k with me!

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When you went out with Bucky, people always assumed that the big beefy guy, with muscles bigger than most people's heads and towered over you would be the boss at home. But as you watched him struggle against his bonds, tears leaking from his eyes and his cock making a mess over his stomach, you smiled to yourself, knowing that you very much had that man under your thumb.

"Angel please? Please let me come?" You hushed him, running your nails gently up and down his thighs, as he moaned and strained against his ties. "Not yet sweetie, you gotta wait or you won't get your treat." You leaned down and pressed a slow kiss to his aching cock, and he hissed again. "Let's give you something else to think about hmm? Instead of being so greedy" you mocked and climbed up his big body so you sat with your pussy on his mouth, nose in your ass and you could still play with his cock. He immediately started licking and sucking at your folds and you occasionally would land a few spanks to his throbbing dick, which would only spur him on.

"Ooh that's so good, much better" you sighed as his tongue fucked you and licked around your clit as you pumped at his cock. "Please baby, gonna come" he muttered under you and you squeezed him a little harder, and he groaned as you dragged him away from yet another orgasm. "Ooh naughty!! You have to behave Bucky or we'll have to stop!" You teased him and watched as the cuffs that held his hands bent the wood of the bedpost. If he wanted to, he could easily break free and take what he wanted. But he would never. He loved this and you far too much.

You ground down on his face and chased your orgasm, moaning loudly and praising his excellent tongue work as you came, drenching his face as you did. "Thank you angel....thank you...please? Please?" Was all he could say as you dismounted and got off the bed, walking around and watching him.

You'd been doing this for nearly two hours and whilst you could make him go for more, he really did deserve a nice treat. Besides edging was fun, but so was overstimulation.

"Ok Bucky, just relax, m'gonna make it all better and give you what you want" you headed over to your little box of goodies and pulled out your favourite strap. He watched enraptured as you stepped in and fitted it snugly to your body. You took your time making him suffer as you lubed up the silicone. You mostly used lube but you also made a show of spitting on it and rubbing it in, his growl spurring you on.

"You can come when I'm all the way in. Not a second before ok? If you do, I'll lock that big cock up and you can stay like that for a week..." You warned him as you unlocked his feet and helped him spread his legs wider to accommodate you. You then pushed his thighs upwards so he was folded over a little and dropped another line of spit down onto his asshole, making you both moan as you pushed it in a little. "Angel please, please I can't....."

You hushed him again then lined up the silicone cock with his puckered hole. You eased in and you watched him grip the sheets as he tried not to come. With some mercy you pushed all the way in, stretching him around you until you were fully seated. With that he came, making a mess over his muscled stomach, and shouting out his pleasure. You praised him and began fucking him in long, deep strokes that had his eyes rolling. "Doing so well Bucky, keep coming, wanna see you make a mess for me.." you cooed and he could only oblige as you gripped his cock and pumped it in time with your thrusts. He writhed beneath you and you had a sudden surge of energy as this powerful man writhed and moaned beneath you. His come dribbled down your hands and he thrashed as he came again, over and over, his whole body wrought with pleasure and pain.

"Oh fuck baby, itssogood" he strained as you hit is prostate over and over, still jerking his cock. "I know Bucky, give me one more hmmm? Just one more little one?" You thrust fast and hard and played with his balls before gripping his cock once more and dragged one more orgasm from him.

You pulled out and climbed up his body, undoing the cuffs on his hands and sat against his side, stroking his face and hair as he panted. His hands gripped your wrist and pulled you forward to meet him in a sloppy kiss which you hungrily returned.

"Oh baby, that was incredible..." You rubbed his wrists and kissed his fingers as he lay watching you, as if you'd hung the moon. "What do you say naughty?" And he blanched, "thank you angel, thank you so much!" You giggled and pressed more kisses to his lips, "that's better, thought I'd have to start all over again."

#sub bucky #sub!bucky #lumberjack!bucky #lumberbuck #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #1.5k celebration #darling nonnie #request fic

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navybrat817 · 19 days

Note

Can lumberjack Bucky take care of me?

Yes, nonnie.

To-Do List

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky shares a list of things to do with you when you wake up. Word Count: Over 600 Warnings: Fluff, pet names, talk of sex, light humor, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: More Burly and Bambi . @tavners, can we manifest this? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s spot on the bed beside you is cool when you wake up and reach for him, seeking out his warmth. You don’t want to start the day cold.

But he’s back in the bedroom before you can get up to look for him, a tray in his hands and a smile on his face as you yawn.

The shirtless sight of your burly man is enough to chase any lingering tiredness away.

“Wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed, Bambi,” he says as he sets the tray over you and lets you look over the feast he prepared. “You drooling over the food or me?” he teases.

You wipe at your chin, thinking for a moment that you did drool. “Both,” you smile, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear once he gets back in bed. “What’s the occasion?”

It isn't your birthday and or anniversary. No reason to celebrate anything.

“No reason at all, darling,” he answers, sincerity in his bright eyes before he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Just want to take care of you.”

Your heart flutters because no other guy had ever done anything for you just because they wanted to. “You take very good care of me,” you promise, feeding him a bite.

You watch him lick his lips after his bite, your heart fluttering for an entirely different reason. “This is just a start,” he says, feeding you a bite in return.

You would never turn down his cooking or him feeding you.

“What else could you possibly have planned? You have to work.”

“No work today,” he replies, nodding to a small piece of paper beside the plate.

A smile spreads across your face due to the impromptu day off before you pick up the sheet and scan it, recognizing his handwriting. “‘Burly and Bambi’s To Do List’,” you announce as he chuckles. “Breakfast in bed.”

“Check,” he smiles, feeding you another bite.

“Cuddle in bed,” you continue.

“After breakfast.”

A giggle bubbles up when you read the next thing on the list. “This just says ‘Each other’,” you state, which you would happily help him cross off.

He puts a hand on his chest when you laugh more. “Are you making fun of my list? You wound me.”

“I’m not,” you promise. Any excuse to do your lumberjack, you’ll take it.

“Good. Because I have us doing each other as number 6,” he smirks, your throat dry when his gaze falls to your chest. “And 9.”

You laugh all over again, careful not to shake the tray. “6 and 9? 69? Really?”

“It’s a good number,” he says nonchalantly. “And as your personal lumberjack, I’ll also be happy to split you in half.”

It’s a tempting offer and you’ll take him up on it. “After we eat.”

“Good idea,” he agrees, popping a bite of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You need your strength.”

“Cocky,” you whisper, but he’s right. You do need your strength because he’s insatiable. “You also have watch a movie together and snuggle with a blanket under the stars.”

“I’ll keep you nice and warm,” he promises, gesturing to the sheet. “Flip it over.”

You’re not sure how you manage to hold back tears as you read it, falling more in love with Bucky as you read out loud, “Tell Bambi how much I love her every day.”

He grasps your chin so you can’t hide your face. “I love you, Bambi,” he whispers, pressing his soft lips against yours.

You ask yourself how you’re lucky enough to be his girl as you kiss him back. “I love you, too, Burly.”

And you would tell him every day, too.

These two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months

Text

the wood

lilac, chapter twelve

a/n: *the author's note equivalent of just ✨moaning✨*

summary: the sight that beheld you once you stepped out onto the porch had all of the air slip out of your lungs all at once.

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, smut, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, chopping wood, kissing, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, belly bulge, outdoor sex, oral, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, squirting, mirror sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 5200

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Stirring awake with a gentle groan, your arm extended in search of the body beside you. Finding nothing but linens, your eyes groggily blinked open to discover that no one else was in the bed but yourself.

Tugging your arm back under your frame, you sighed and let your front sink further into the mattress, your cheek buried itself deeper into the pillow just a moment longer before you pushed yourself up to a sitting position.

Swinging your legs over the side, you reached for the grey woollen socks you’d kicked off in the middle of the night. As you slipped them back onto your feet, your gaze caught your reflection in the round rattan-framed mirror hanging on the opposing wall.

Letting your eyes linger, turning your head from side to side, you made sure that the recently faded bruises hadn’t somehow returned to haunt you of what had occurred. But thankfully, all you saw was skin. No marks, no scrapes, no bruises, nothing physical to remind you of Preston.

Getting up, you caught the muted dark brown flannel that hung by the collar from one of the dresser’s knobs, and shrugged it on, doing up the buttons so the borrowed shirt covered you further.

Pitter-pattering out into the small kitchen, you turned on the tap and reached for a glass, swiftly filling it up for a refreshing sip.

As you lowered the drink from your lips, a satisfying cracking noise from somewhere outside found your ears and your gaze flickered to the cabin’s front door.

The sight that beheld you once you stepped out onto the porch had all of the air slip out of your lungs all at once.

Just a little ways off from the hut stood Frank by a wide and sturdy stump, split wood littering around his feet as he repeatedly let the long axe in his grasp come down upon the piece balanced on the reliable base.

Utterly hypnotised, your feet hazily carried you across the porch till your fingers were gripping onto the railing. Clad in a simple grey undershirt, the sight of the prominent veins in his arms bulging, straining at every violent hack till the thick log split, caused your brain to melt, and the fact that the hem slightly rose every time as well didn’t help matters either.

Each one of his precise swings conjured a laboured huff that sounded way too close to how he had been panting in your ear just last night. Occasionally, small curses too slipped through his puffs whenever the wood he worked on got particularly stubborn, and every time, without a doubt, you felt your cunt clench.

As one log split, forcefully crashing to either side, he picked up a new one, but before he could crack it open, he rested the axe a second against his leg while he let a dollop of spit fall from his panting lips to his calloused palms, rubbing it in for better traction before he picked up the axe once more.

Tingles pricked and tickled every nerve in your body as his sinful display eventually came to a close. The soft sunlight that streamed through the treetops caught a glint of the sweat gleaming on the part of his rapidly rising and falling chest that peaked out of the neckline of his tank, dabbling his skin like diamonds.

Wedging his axe into the base stump, you continued to stare as Frank caught his breath and bent over to gather up the wood into the wide woven basket that too was at his feet, his gaze swiftly spotting your dazed form, nearly drooling at this point.

“Oh, hey,” he smiled, offering you a small wave as he tossed a few pieces of firewood into the crate.

“Huh?” still in a trance, you blinked, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as your thighs squeezed together in an attempt at soothing the persistent pulse that now throbbed between them.

“You’re up.”

“Yep, I–, uhm, I am,” you shook your head, trying and failing to clear it, “morning.”

“I’m sorry,” he picked up the heavy basket, “did I wake you?”

“Nope, no, you didn’t,” you let a sinful exhale as he climbed the steps of the porch. Redirecting your gaze elsewhere as he set the firewood down, you stared out at the forest and coughed, “there, uh, sure are a lot of birds out today.”

“Hm,” the porch creaked beneath his boots as he neared where you stood, “is that what you were staring at?”

“Yeah, why, did you not think I was? Was there something else going on here in the forest that could possibly capture my attention other than mother nature herself?” you joked, knowing full well how obvious the truth was, “I am Dunbrook’s resident birdwatcher after all.”

“Sure, you are,” a shiver ran down your spine as his deep voice rumbled in your ear. Wrapping his burly arms around your waist, you leaned back into his warmth as he gently checked, “how are you feeling today?”

“I’m alright, pretty good actually,” you answered the question he had formed a habit of asking you every morning you’d stayed here, “I slept quite well, so that always helps things,” turning in his embrace to face him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and wondered, “how long have you been up?”

“Not long,” his gaze traced yours, following as it yearningly flickered down to his mouth.

“You hungry?”

Drawing you in closer, you heard him utter, “fucking starving…” before he captured your lips in a kiss.

A little dazed from how rapidly the simple peck escalated, you pulled back to politely pant, “oh, yeah? What are you in the mood for?”

Flashing you a smirk, he cocked his head and said, “what do you think I wanna eat?” and if his tone didn’t manage to squash any ounce of doubt you had that he wasn’t in fact talking about food, the sensation of his hands sinking down to palm your bottom though the flannel made it crystal clear.

“Frank,” you giggled as his fingertips discovered your lack of underwear.

“What?” you watched as he slowly sank down onto his knees before you, “is what a no?” his eyes stayed glued to yours as his beard tickled your thigh.

“No,” your legs gently wiggled further apart, letting him spot the glint of your want that had dripped down your inner thighs.

“No, it’s not a no, or no, you’re in the mood for something else?” you sucked in a sharp breath as his ghosting touch teased your goosebump-ridden legs, “because I think we still have a bit of bread left or there might be some leftovers in the fridge.”

Losing track of all of the metaphors through the fuzzy haze his teasing touch set you in, you mumbled, “I–, what?” and a small whine then fell from your lips, “fuck… Frank, I–… can you just–, please?”

“I can do a lot of things, sweetheart,” he pressed a peck to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, “what do you want me to do?”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, an airy chuckle flowing from your lips as you threw you head back and gazed up at the fluffy clouds visible above the rusty roof, “you’re such an ass.”

“Ah, I can be a lot worse, don’t you worry,” his devilish hands slithered up to your bottom and lightly raked his short fingernails over each cheek.

You sounded downright pathetic as you pleaded, “can you please–,“ but his playful tone cut you off before it flourished into a full sentence.

“Yeah?”

Blinking down at him, you desperately hiked the oversized shirt further up and asked, “…eat me out?”

Grin growing wider, he didn’t hesitate before diving in. Cracking you further open for him, he hoisted your left thigh up onto his broad shoulder and buried his face in your want. Holding you steady with one hand digging into your ass and the other firm at your hip, he zealously parted your petals and felt your pulse pound against his eager tongue.

As he then brazenly sucked down on your clit, your fingers sought out his dark hair, gripping it tight as your eyes fluttered, “oh my god, tha-that feels so good!”

With your brows tightly knitted together, as your eyes blinked down to meet his ever-unwavering gaze, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting go at a record-breaking time, the show you had imbibed in earlier not aiding in drawing your conclusion out. Trembling above, your legs tried to close around him, but the sensation of your thighs pressing against his thick skull didn’t face him one bit as he only held you tighter and kept up his keen kisses.

Back arched against the railing, your chest rose and fell rapidly as Frank twisted his head to place pecks along your inner thigh, the soft flutter only issued a stubborn clench to your cunt in desire for more.

Hooking your grip in the fabric of his shirt, you pulled him back up and desperately crashed your lips against his, feeling your desire sodden in his beard and tasting your adoration on his tongue.

“Alright,” he dreamily disconnected from your needy kiss, “but seriously now,” he drew in a methodical breath through his nose as if in an attempt to calm his own desires down enough before he asked, “what do you want for breakfast?” clearly assuming that the morrow coitus wouldn’t go any further.

Puffing out a hazy grin, you simply let your palm drop to the tent in his trousers and leaned back in to utter against his lips, “I don’t care what’s for breakfast,” your touch tightened insistently over the clear imprint of his desire, “just shut up and fuck me.”

A silent and amazed laugh slipped out past his lips as you tugged at his waistband, “yes, ma’am,” stealing one last kiss before he spun you back around. Grasping onto the railing, your hazy gaze washed over the idyllic scenery as you felt Frank free his length and sweep it through your dripping folds, nudging persistently against your pearl before gliding down to catch your entrance with his tip.

The morning sunlight dazzled in the lake beyond, glittering and flickering just like the sparks that buzzed inside of you.

Giving you just an inch, you felt your forms sigh in unison, your breaths harmoniously synced in satisfaction.

“Did I tell you how good you look in my shirt?” his low timbre crackled in your ear like a warm fire as he slowly rolled his hips, deliberately taking his time, letting you worship every maddening detail of his cock, “because you do,” you felt his palms snake up to squeeze your tits through the flannel, “feel free to steal them any time you want.”

Mouth agape, your head fell back against his chest as shaky moans slipped out at every unhurried rock to his hips.

“You sure it’s not the lack of anything underneath that you like so much?” you grinned, your hips rolling back against his deliberate efforts.

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining about that part,” he chuckled and pressed his lips to your neck, “I think you might be able to get me to do anything you wish dressed exactly like this.”

“Oh yeah?” your giggle broke up your moans, “anything I wish?”

“Mhm,” he hummed gravelly, his fingers nimbly undoing a few of the buttons and granting his grasp access to slip in and seep across your tingly flesh, “fucking anything…”

Sinking in deeper with every gentle thrust, your left hand lowered and began to draw tight circles over your clit as the other’s grip tightened around the railing, your nails leaving crescent-shaped imprints in the raw wood.

But when his lips began to wander across the side of your neck in a way that made you feel as if he was kissing every millimetre of your body, that’s when you felt your legs begin to tremble once more. The intensity of his slow pace began to grow within you, nearly being too much for you to take, so when his fingers sought out your pebbly nipples in a dizzying pinch, that’s when your frame jerked, Frank’s throbbing girth sliding out of you from just how hard you were squeezing down on him, and as your front collided with the fence, your fingertips furiously kept up their pace and kept your orgasm going, convulsing for all of the flora and fauna to see.

Leaning with your folded-up arms against the top of the banister, Frank’s burly arms, which were still enveloped around you, tightened as you felt the warmth of his front melt against your curved spine. Letting one of your hands drop, it swiftly found his and weaved itself with it as you drew it up higher to press it against your thumping heart. Though when your pulse began to calm, you raised your tangled fingers further, all the way up so that your lips could press against the back of his palm.

As you slowly unfurled your form, your fluttery kisses gently danced up his arm till you found yourself facing him once more with your lips attached to his collarbone.

His bulbous tip leaked against the few buttons that were still fastened on the shirt you wore and his wide palms slid down past your waist to knead your bottom and draw you that much closer.

Shuffling your feet, you gently pushed against his brick house of a frame for him to shift as well. Backing up, you crossed the short width of the porch till the back of Frank’s knees bumped into the solid bench that sat flush against the exterior wall. As he buckled and planted himself on it, it only took half a second for you to curl into his lap.

Grabbing the sides of your face and bringing you into a sloppy kiss, you snaked a hand down between your frames and seized his dick. A low moan vibrated against your tongue as you raised up your hips and rubbed his hardness against your slick a moment before slowly sinking down, his lips falling from yours as you did so. Gazing back at him through your lashes, you saw as his eyes stayed shut, his mouth hung agape and his head gently fell back against the wall, the sensation of your warmth enveloping him evidently rocking him to his very core.

Gliding your grasp into place over his broad shoulders, you slowly drew your hips up before easing back down, all the while taking in every little micro-reaction you stirred on your partner's face.

“Christ, you feel so good,” he groaned, hazily peeling his eyelids open to blink back at you with a stary gaze, “so fucking warm,” he leaned back in a murmured against your lips, “and wet...”

One of your elbows bent and curled the remainder of the limb over his head, your fingers weaving into his short waves as you slowly nuzzled your nose against his, gently sweeping from side to side and sharing his hot breath as you leisurely bounced in his lap.

Keeping one of his palms glued to your hot cheek, the other one drifted down to undo the last remaining buttons, freeing your tits completely. His gaze lowered to watch them sway with your slow movements, the open flannel now akin to a curtain flowing next to the soft peaks.

“Fuck,” he moaned, holding you close as his dark brows knitted together, “if you keep going like that, you’ll make me cum.”

“Good,” you panted as you too felt the end near once more. With your forehead pressed to his, you shakily rode him, keeping up the same leisurely pace, feeling every single part of him intoxicatingly stretch you out, till his groans grew louder and his eyes screwed shut, digging his fingers into your hair as his length twitched inside of you and you creamed all over his cock, your amalgamation mingling and becoming indistinguishable from one another’s euphoric juices.

Burying your features in the crook of his neck, your breaths came in ragged as you felt how tightly your cunt was clenching around him. But nevertheless, you simply stayed there, frozen atop of him and with his softening girth still embedded deep within you.

“Oh my god,” you groaned light-heartedly into his skin, “you fucking dick.”

“What?” he chuckled warmly in your ear.

“No, it’s just,” you huffed out laboured breaths as you hazily explained, “you made me cum so hard and now I feel like a fucking virgin…” but when his reaction was to try and pluck you off of him, a sharp hiss escaped your lips, “no, no!” your arms tightened around his neck, “stay, stay,” your alarming tone was softened by a shuttering whimper.

Seizing your cheek, he gingerly drew you back for him to take in your fuzzy expression, “oh, you want me to stay?” he smiled at the pout that had formed on your lips, and a sluggish nod tipped your head at his playful tone, “alright,” he tilted his chin and pressed a kiss to the edge of your hairline, “I can stay.”

“It’s dumb,” you murmured as you felt his pecks flutter down your face, “but I’m just kinda scared that if you pull out I’ll just somehow close up completely.”

“You won’t,” a soft chuckle rumbled within his chest as he neared your lips, “don’t worry, I’ll help you if it ever comes to that.”

Tilting your chin, you pressed your lips to his, your tongue swiftly swooping in to dance lazily against his own.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as you felt his touch lightly ghost all along your spine, caressing up and down the length of you as your kiss grew sloppy.

As you noticed your sensitive pussy begin to relax, so too did you sense when Frank’s cock, which previously hadn’t gone completely soft yet, began to swell within you, the sensation making your hips instinctively grind down against him as the sensation consumed you.

And with his lips never leaving yours, a light squeak escaped your lungs as Frank suddenly rose to his feet, scooping you with him, his fat cock all the while still staying warm within you.

As his slow stride carried you back inside, your gaze was hazy as his kisses migrated down your neck, but when you passed the kitchen, your eyes snapped back open, “wait,” you stopped him and his lips detached from your pounding pulse, a string of saliva still keeping him connected to where a lavender love mark had begun to bloom, “I’m thirsty! I still–,” keeping one arm hooked around his neck, you carefully pointed to the half-full glass still on the counter, “my water is right over there.”

With one hand under your bottom and the other clasped at your waist, he redirected his steps and walked over to the small open kitchen. Once he reached the counters, a sly smirk seeped across his features as he commanded, “hold on tighter,” and as you did, his grip then shifted and let go of your side to grasp the glass of water.

“You know, you could just put me down,” you chuckled as he lifted the drink up to your lips, carefully tilting it and granting you a sip.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” his coffee gaze stayed fast on your lips as you drank. When you tipped your head back to halt the flow, a little droplet escaped the corner of your mouth, rolled down your chin and all the way to your exposed chest. Setting the glass back down, he swiftly dragged the back of his index finger along the glistening stripe and wiped it up, “making a fucking mess,” briefly leaning in to clean up the rest with his tongue.

Giggling fleetingly at his comment, you asked, “do you want a sip?” but he only gazed back at you and gently shook his head, other desires more prevalent in his mind.

Biting down on your bottom lip, you felt his girth throb inside of you.

As his stride slowly began to return towards the bedroom, it only took you letting your arms hang at your sides a moment for the flannel to cascade off of you and drop to the floorboards.

Craning his neck, he buried his face in your boobs, nipping and nuzzling gently against the soft flesh as you insistently tugged at his grey tank, one of your socked feet also shifted and nudged at his waistband in an attempt at getting him to the same level of undress as you were at. But unfortunately, none of your efforts yielded much success as his grip on you halted the fabric from exposing too much of his warm flesh.

You hadn’t truly comprehended that you’d reached your destination before your spine pressed against the doorframe, Frank momentarily using it as leverage as he carefully lifted you off him, shifting his hold on you as you felt his previous load begin to drip out.

Gingerly plopping you down onto the bed, you expected him to melt down atop of you and bury himself so deep inside of you that you wouldn’t be able to walk for a whole week, instead his warmth disappeared as he took a few steps back, his dark eyes glued to you and the mess between your lazily fallen open thighs, as he stripped off the clothes that clung to his bulky physique.

Raising yourself up onto your elbows, your teeth snatched up your bottom lip as you spotted the lewd stain on the front of his pants, completely sodden with your essence.

He was surely taking his time with it, putting on a show and letting you drool over every sliver of skin he revealed, but perhaps it was just your impatience getting the best of you, because when the last bit of fabric finally dropped to the floor and he stood there a second in all of his jaw-dropping glory, you heard your whine resonate within the cabin, “Frank, my legs feel like jello,” a breathy laugh slipped out past your pout as you feared he’d ask you to come crawling to him, “please get back over here.”

Choking down a laugh of his own, he painfully slowly stepped closer to you, your thighs splitting wider as he neared.

“You sure?” he playfully cocked his brow as his fist closed in around his fat base, stroking himself agonisingly close to your puffy pussy, “I thought you said I made you come so hard that now you can’t take it anymore,” smiling as you attempted to wiggle closer without any success, “you sure you can handle more?”

“Yes,” flowed from your lips as you stared at the way his grip slid up and down his intimidating length, the lingering gloss making his movements go molten, “yes, I can take it, please, I want more.”

Finally granting you a tad of contact, he tapped the hefty weight against your swollen pearl, “yeah?” gliding his free palm down your inner thigh to fight it as it jerked in response, “this what you want?” he repeated the action, the lewd soppy smack resonating within the room, “or was it more something like this,” you gasped as he suddenly slid the entirety of his length inside of you.

“H-holy shit!” you felt all of the air get pushed out of your lungs as his tip nudged against the deepest part of you, a sensation that caused your limbs to tremble at his sides.

“What?” he smirked, pulling back out completely, and gliding his weight through your soppy folds, parting them with his girth as he rubbed against your clit, “I didn’t quite catch that,” your hazy gaze fluttered down to see how far up your stomach his length rested, the staggering image efficiently causing your brain to melt out of your ear.

“Yo-you, you, yes!” you blubbered incoherently, “that–, yes!”

“What? This?” he bullied your clit further.

“Ah!” you moaned sharply, “no, no–”

“Oh, you mean this?” he slammed back inside of you so fiercely that tears formed in the corners of your eyes, “is this what you want? Would this make you happy?” he slowly eased back out, just halfway, before burying himself once more, “because you know that’s all I want, is just to make my girl happy.”

Mouth agape, you watched as he fucked you, still standing tall next to where to laid melted against the mattress, but when you noticed the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in the lower part of your stomach, your eyes grew wide, and the tangible proof made your pussy threaten to flutter around his girth.

“F-Frank!” you whimpered as he gazed down at you, admiring the way you took his entirety, “I think I'm gonna–”

“What?” he offered you one last thrust before retracting completely, leaving you squirming as he dropped down to his knees before you, “you’re gonna what?”

Both of his thumbs briefly came up to spread your puff apart for him, granting him a great view of your collected mess that still oozed out of you. redirecting his gaze to stare up at you, he placed a few teasing pecks along your glistening petals, his prominent nose nudging against your puffy clit as he teased you, making his way up to lap a cruelly light lick to your sensitive pearl.

“I am waiting patiently here,” two of his fingers came to fill you up, hooking inside of you and swiftly initiating a rocking rhythm against that spot that conjured the lewdest of squelching melodies, “what are you gonna do, huh?” and as he sucked down on your clit, he only did so for what felt like a second before it all became too intense and your pussy gushed around his determined digits, a display he had obviously hoped for as he bellowed gravelly, “there it is,” a feral look glazing over his intense gaze as he tickled out as much of your nectar as you’d grant him, “fuck!”

As you laid there quivering and shaking on the crumbled sheets, the last thing you’d expected after a high so paralysing was for you to crave more, and you did. In a deep and primal way that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. In a way that caused you to sluggishly yank him up onto the bed and feel his weight on top of you, a sensation you didn’t get to savour long before he rolled around, taking you with him as he planted his head upon the pillows still at the top of the bed and manhandling you on top of him.

Body melted and plastered atop of his, you uttered into his skin, “you’re being so mean.”

Digging his grip into your hips, he grinded you down against him and checked, “too mean?”

“I–…” you thought about it a second before the corners of your lips began to tip upwards, “no… I like it, but you’re just still mean.”

Manoeuvring your molten frame, he lifted your pelvis up far enough for him to slip back inside.

“Yeah, well, what else is new,” you felt his low chuckle rumble in his burly chest beneath your cheek, “we can’t all be a ray of sunshine like you.”

Keeping his grasp glued to your hips, you swiftly discovered that your exhausted limbs weren’t up to the task of doing all of the work independently and became ever so grateful when you didn’t even have to ask for help as Frank began to rock your frame for you, moving you like a toy on top of him.

Arms curling up and retracting in against your form, you smooshed your cheek further down against his chest as you drooled on his pecks, the rocking motion nearly lulling you off into a dream, but before you could fade away completely, Frank’s voice washed over you once more.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Mhm?” you mewled as he fucked you down upon him.

“Can you open your eyes for me?”

And when you did, it took your fuzzy gaze a moment before you spotted the mirror on the far side wall and the reflection in it, but when you did notice it, the shuttering moan you let out left no doubt in Frank’s mind if you had or not.

“Look at how fucking pretty you are when you’re all fucked out,” you felt him shift his hold so that he kept your hips stagnant and bucked his own up into you in such a way that caused your head to levitate just a centimetre off his pecks as his balls slapped against you from the force of his efforts, “can you keep your beautiful eyes right there on the mirror? I want you to see how cute you look when you cum…”

You weren’t sure that cute was the specific word you would have used to describe how it looked when he once again made you squirt all over his cock. But sure, you could see how in Frank’s eyes you must have looked utterly adorable gushing around him from just how good he made you feel.

Rolling over, you both now laid on your sides with your limp leg flung over his hip and his flush face clutched in your palms as you held him close in the silky embrace.

“Frank,” your woollen-socked foot caressed his lower back as it methodically moved beneath it with every lavish thrust, “I don’t think I can cum again.”

“Is that a challenge?” his warm palm slid down your frame and he pressed his middlemost fingers down upon your overly sensitive clit, “because I think you can. I even think you can squirt some more for me,” and as he angled his molten motions, he didn’t quit till your face screwed up and squelching noises echoed at every zealous plunge, “such a fucking good girl, you can do it, just let go, I’ve got you,” he talked you through your high as it crashed into you, nearly knocking you out completely as your body fulfilled his wish and his own peak swiftly followed suit as your clambering pussy milked him dry.

With sweet sweat glistening up your skin, you felt utterly boneless as you laid there in Frank’s arms. Placing a few slow pecks all along the length of his nose, he hummed contentedly and a soft smile warmth up his features.

After nearly falling back asleep in the safe cocoon that was the post-coital bliss, you heard yourself ask after you both landed on not slumbering the day away.

“You wanna take a shower before we actually figure something real out for breakfast?”

“Wow, okay,” he jokingly scoffed as he began to drag himself out of the bed, “but don’t think this is gonna work a third time.”

“What?” you chuckled as he got up to his feet and pulled open the top dresser drawer for a few fresh towels, “no, I seriously just mean cleaning up before we eat!”

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buckrecs · 7 months

Note

Hi I was wondering if you had any recommendations for lumberjack!bucky

Lumberjack!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Hero Next Door by @jobean12-blog

You and your dog Winter have recently moved to the quiet of the country and you love it then you meet your new neighbor...

I’m yours by @peteyprecious616

soft lumberjack Bucky drabble

Safe Heaven by @world-of-aus

I’m Sorry by @wh0reforoldmen

Dark!Bucky You made Bucky mad, and he makes you apologize for your "wrong doing"

ooey gooey by @thornsnvultures

Every morning, Bucky comes to your store for terrible coffee and maybe something a little sweet on the side.

SERIES

Undisclosed by @pellucid-constellations

Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadn’t mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldn’t leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either.

Sturdy Roots, Strong Hearts by @rookthorne

Life in your small town could not have gotten any better, you had sworn. That was until you started to call a handsome, brooding lumberjack your best friend, and you developed butterflies at any mention of his name, or thought of him. Sure, it was going to be fine, you could do this. What could go wrong?

Through Sea Mist and Shadows by @archive-obsess

after years away, (Y/n) returns to the small family farm on a remote Maine island that was once considered her home. things are different now, her family bears her sad smiles, the fisherman's boy is quiet and reserved, and she herself has changed beyond her own recognition.

Lumberjack AUs by @angrythingstarlight

Lumberjack!Bucky Masterlist

Lumby and Bunny by @sweetdreamsbuck

Bucky's never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he's entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one's ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes series #lumberjack!bucky #bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #dark!bucky #beefy!bucky #neighbor!bucky

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Outside the Lines 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsessive compulsive behaviour, kidnapping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has her routine and her fellow patient gets in the way of those.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, (lumberjack AU)

Note: <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You watch the city outside the tinted window. As Bucky pulls up to the curb, you sit up, the seat belt snug against you, and crane around curiously. You don’t see the man before he gets to the door, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

The locks flick up with a loud click and he lets himself in, dropping into the seat.

“Hey, Buck,” he greets as his broad shoulder peek above the seat. He’s even bigger than your driver, “how’s it… going?” His voice trails off and he glances back at you, his lips curving slightly.

“Good, should be all ready,” Bucky answers cryptically and fixes the rearview to look at you, calling you by name, “this is my friend Steve–”

“Rogers?” you utter in surprise as the recollection sparks in your head. Even through his thick beard and overgrown hair, you know him. Not for real, just from the television. “erm, I’ve seen him… on TV.”

“Mm, yeah,” Steve sits straight and chuckles, “nice to meet you.” He buckles the seatbelt and adjusts the seat as he lets out a groan, “so, this is the one?”

You crinkle your nose curiously. It’s like they’re already halfway through a conversation that never even started.

“Quiet, but adequate,” Bucky replies and you assume they’re talking about the car. Maybe it’s new.

“Gas?” Steve intones.

“Won’t have to stop for a while,” Bucky assures.

They must be planning something big, you think, after they drop you off of course. You cradle your purse and bounce your leg as the locks sink back down with a jarring clack. You wince and play with your lip between your teeth as Bucky steers out into traffic.

You start to think of everything waiting at your apartment. You still had to put away the dishes you left in the rack and you wanted to hang that cross stitch you just finished. Maybe some laundry if you were feeling super motivated.

Wait.

“Um, you missed the turn,” you say as your eyes come back into focus and you look back at the street. You peek up front and see the GPS is no longer appearing on the touchscreen, “Bucky–”

“Just sit back, doll,” he says as he leans a little heavier on the gas, only inches away from the car ahead of him, “it’s okay.”

“What’s okay?” you ask as your breath burns in your lungs, “where are you going? My place is–”

“Now, just calm down and be quiet,” Bucky warns, “you don’t want to distract me, do ya? I’m driving.”

“I know but– Look! Turn here and you can head down–” you point but he veers in the opposite direction, jerking you so your purse slides beside your leg.

“Steve,” Bucky sighs and you cry out as suddenly your purse is wrenched through the space between their seats.

“What are you doing?” You whine and try to snatch it away but the seat belt holds you back. You fumble to unbuckle and Bucky slams on the break, sending you back so hard it knocks the wind from you.

“You don’t want to hurt yourself, doll,” he snarls, “and you don’t want me to either so put your seatbelt on. Now.”

You sputter as you watch Steve fish around in your bag. He takes out your phone and rips off the back casing, dismounting the battery and snapping the rest in half. You croak as you reach for it helplessly and Bucky smacks your hand.

“You get that belt on now or Steve can come back and help, isn’t that right?” Bucky arches a brow at the other man.

“Happily,” Steve confirms as he continues to search your purse.

“Please, I dont’-- you can’t do this! It’s wrong. It’s bad! You can’t. I have to get home. I have to do my chores!” you rock and rub your hands together, “you have to take me home so I can–”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky hisses, “would you give it up.”

“No, no, no,” you harrumph, “you don’t understand. I have to. I have to!”

“Steve,” Bucky grumbles.

“Listen, sweetheart,” Steve lets your purse rest in his lap as he twists around to look at you, “what you need to do is sit back and buckle up, okay? If you don’t, you will get hurt and that’s not what we want at all. We want to take care of you. Keep you safe–”

“I don’t know you, I don’t know you!” you chant, “let me out!”

You push yourself across the seat and try to open the door. You pick at the lock but it doesn’t pop up so you hit the window, the impact reverberating in your hand meanly as you gasp. You know that the tint conceals you from those outside.

The sudden blare of the radio startles you as the car hurls forward and you fall back, your voice smothered beneath the heavy drumming.

“We can do it however you want to, doll,” Bucky growls as you keep yourself from rolling onto the floor, “so let’s do it the hard way.”

A black screen rises between the front and back of the car, blocking you in completely as similar barriers expand over the interior of the side and rear windows.

Your heart clenches as you struggle up to your knees and hit the barrier, the collision muffled and futile. You hear only the racket of the hectic rock coming from the speakers.

“No, no, no,” you claw desperately as panic floods your body, “no!” you slap the black screen, “please, please, please, this can’t be happening.” You beg as tears well in your eyes, “take me home, take me home, please.”

You fall back as you start to hyperventilate, hugging yourself as you sway and babble. Don’t talk to strangers. You always stuck to that so why this time? Why are you so stupid?

🌲

You’re exhausted from thrashing and lashing. You lay across the suede seat and stare at the ceiling of the car. The tires continue to roll on as the car whisks through the air tunnel. You don’t know where you are or how far you’ve gone but you know you’re in trouble.

You don’t understand. Steve Rogers is supposed to be a hero so why is he helping this creep take you away? Maybe they really are trying to help you. Maybe they really do want to take care of you.

You have your issues but you aren’t that deluded. If they think this is normal then they are even worse off than you.

The horror starts to mount again. The more you think, the more dire it is. You sit up and pull on the handle, three times. Nothing. You snap your fingers, three times, and get up to try to see through any of the black screens.

As you press your face to the front one, a thump from the other side frightens you. You recoil and grasp your throat nervously. The music dies and the speaker clicks subtly.

“I told you to buckle up,” Bucky’s voice comes through the stereo, “we’re going pretty fast, doll, you want to strap yourself in.”

You frown, hands shaking as you look down at your lap. You wipe your sweat palms on your corduroy pants and sniffle. Oh no, you’re going to cry.

“Doll,” Bucky drawls, “calm down, one thing at a time. You put that belt on and maybe… maybe I’ll roll down the screen, huh?”

You hang your head. The tears spill down your cheeks as you reach for the buckle and pull the belt across your body. You click it into place and mop your face with your sleeves. You’re so weak. Pathetic, just like your father always said.

“Good girl,” Bucky praises and you flinch as suddenly the barrier shifts and slowly descends.

You hide your face and keep your shoulders curled as you try to suck back the tears and snot.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve says, “it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

“I’m not,” you whisper and lift your head, lip trembling, “I’m not crying.”

“Why don’t we stop and get her some tea at the next rest stop?” Steve says as he reaches back to touch your knee, “shh, sweetie, you’re okay.”

You wince but don’t pull away. His hand is so big. It makes you feel even smaller.

“Mmm, she doesn’t need it,” Bucky mutters.

“Look at her, Buck, she’s upset,” Steve runs a nail along the corduroy and reluctantly pulls away, “she’s scared. Sweetie, do you like tea?”

You pout and clasp your hands together, “yes.”

“Alright, so it’s settled, we’ll stop for some tea and snacks? What kind of snacks do you like? Cookies?”

“Mhmm,” you mumble as your throat constricts.

“Like I said, sweetie, we just want to take care of you,” Steve promises, “all you have to do is be good. Can you do that?”

You nod and clamp your lips shut. You lower your face as another wave of tears overwhelms you. You quiver and sniff as you can’t stop the onslaught. Steve gives an ‘aww’ and Bucky sighs.

“Fine, we’ll stop,” Bucky resigns, “just this once.”

🌲

The men leave you in the back seat, closed in by the black barriers. You can't understand it. You scowl. It's not fair. They can't just ruin everything. You have a routine and they are getting in the way of that.

As they come back, you hear them outside the car. The locks click and the handle releases. You unbuckle your seatbelt and brace yourself. They get in the front seat as the screen rolls down.

A swell overcomes you, the type of anger that surges when you put something in the wrong place. When the world decides to be so imperfect.

Bucky holds out the cup of steaming tea. You reach out shakily. One two three. You blink three times. Tap on the lid three times and peel it back. You look at the steeping liquid and count again.

One two three. One two three. One two three. Go!

You fling the hot water at Bucky as he drops the keys into the cupholder. You lunge forward as he cries out and you scramble for the keychain. As you grasp your prize, your face slams into the console under the unbreakable grip on the back of your head.

"Get her back," Bucky snarls as his door opens and he steps out of the car, hissing curses as he tries to shake the moisture from his jacket, "fuck!"

He wipes his face, a scalding red across one side as he winces. Your vision ripples from the impact and you feel your nose swelling already as Steve shoves you back. You hit the suede and groan.

"Now you get nothing," Steve growls and the black screen whirs and slides up.

"Fucking bitch," you hear before it closes completely.

You huff and hold your head daintily, the air seems to move with lines and your ears ring. That was a mistake. Not brave, stupid.

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