#serial killer!bucky barnes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crowsoundsonly · 5 months

Text

dr. barnes

pair: fbi instructor!professor!bucky barnes x fem!student!reader

word count: ~6.5k

summary: you ask for some advice from your reclusive and very attractive professor.

warnings: teacher student relationship so slight age gap but i had pictured it being less than 10 years, super soft bucky, smut at the end (~1.3k), fingering (f rec) but not super descriptive, crime scene descriptions, descriptions of blood, some christian/religious references at the crime scenes, (let me know if i missed any !!)

a/n: this one held me hostage for weeks. i literally could not stop thinking about it. do i have uni exams this week? yes. but did i spend my time writing this? also yes. i hope you guys like it !!

“Explain the killer. What does he do? What motivates him? How would you catch him? A thousand words printed by the next class. Have a good weekend,” your professor, Dr. Barnes, announces with a nod, cueing the shuffling of laptops and bags belonging to FBI trainees eager to get home on a Friday afternoon.

You load up your things, your mind still thinking about the brutal crime scene photos shown on the slides of the lecture today that made your stomach turn over. While you know you have chosen to be at the FBI, you can’t help but wonder sometimes what you are doing there. Your degree in psychology and doctorate in criminology has led you to the FBI Academy, but your mind still swirls when the most horrible acts of violence are placed in front of you. You chalk it up to you retaining your humanity and sanity, so you are not exactly upset over the fact. It just makes your job more difficult.

Dr. Barnes’ class is always the most brutal, but it is by far the most fascinating class you have. It does help that your professor is the most fascinating part, being very good looking and extremely private. He shares very little personal information, telling you only that he used to work homicide at the police department before beginning teaching. You notice that he does not talk to students often, simply giving his lectures, packing up and leaving after the sea of students flood into the hallways.

You are curious about him, about what he is like when he is not lecturing, and figuring that you have little to lose, you decide to come back after your classes to ask for some help.

…

“Dr. Barnes?” you call out as you step into the lecture hall that is still lit, leaving you to believe that someone is there. You take a few more steps and find your professor sitting at his desk, photos piled around, staring intently at the laptop in front of him. He makes no movement to acknowledge you, his focus completely locked onto his work.

You walk all the way up to his desk, repeating his name which does little to deter him. You reach a hand out and give his shoulder a slight squeeze, causing him to jump in his seat and look up at you, eyes wide.

“Sorry, Dr. Barnes. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

At your words, he scans your face, recognition dawning on his features.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” he says quietly, his eyes focusing on the books you are holding in your hands.

“It’s okay, Dr. Barnes,” you assure him.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he trails off a bit at the end of his question, asking for your name in its absence.

You fill in your name and explain, “I just have a question. I’m writing a paper for another class and was hoping that you could give me some insight on the topic. I’m really just looking for another perspective.”

“Of course,” he says as he leans back in his chair. There is not another chair, so you take to sitting on the edge of his desk.

“The paper is about female serial killers, and I was wondering what you think the most common traits and motives are. We have discussed some examples in class, but I wanted to ask what your experience has been.”

He thinks for a moment, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. “They usually work in health care professions. They’ll, um, they will be married or have been married before. They usually kill to improve their situation, so they’ll target people they know, usually men. But not all women,” he stops and looks up at you before continuing to explain a case he had while working homicide where they investigated a series of killings that followed the signs of a male killer but ended up being a woman.

Dr. Barnes runs a hand through his hair when he finishes, leaning back in his chair. You can’t help but notice how good he looks in this position and at this angle. His dark hair tousled and glasses twirling between his thumbs, you think about how it would feel to reach out and feel his hair between your fingers. You school yourself, your face becoming hot at the idea. He is your professor, and you would do well to remember that.

You continue the conversation, asking him questions and prodding for more insight. When you figure you have taken up enough of his time, you bow your head a bit and begin getting up from your place on the desk.

“Thank you for your help, Dr. Barnes. I really appreciate you taking the time.”

He nods in acknowledgment, a small smile adorning his lips which you watch perhaps a little too intently as he says. “It was nothing. I’m glad I could help.”

You begin walking toward the door of the lecture hall but are stopped by your name being called out.

“Would you actually mind taking a look at these pictures? I’d like to know what you see.”

You turn back around. The look on his face is one of curiosity. You wonder why he would want to ask you, and part of you wants to believe that it is because he wants you to stay, but you know better.

“Sure,” you shrug, making your way back to his desk. “I’m not sure I’ll be of much help, though”

“Just take a look. It’s not a test, if that’s what you’re worried about,” your professor says, standing up to hand you the crime scene photos.

They are gruesome, but you don’t know what else you could have expected with Dr. Barnes. You examine them all the while trying to ignore the way he leans over your shoulder as you fail to concentrate. You are so close that if you took a single step back, you would be flush to him.

Pushing those thoughts away, you focus your attention on the photos, flipping through them, noticing the odd blood splatter near the baseboard that doesn’t have a body laying anywhere near it.

“What would make the killer climb on top of the counter to shoot someone, get down, and move the body?” you think out loud as you turn your head to look at Dr. Barnes. You notice how close your faces are and let out a breath at the discovery. “Dominance?” your voice is more shaky than you wanted it to sound.

“I was hoping you could tell me. My guess is they were waiting there, but it still doesn’t make sense,” he says, looking past you and to the picture you are holding. You look back down as well, grateful you did not make eye contact, the idea of the intimacy of it alarming.

“If they were standing on it, that would make sense, but the angle doesn’t really fit. It seems as if they were waiting for them to get home, and they sat, swinging their legs, completely calm and casual about shooting this person,” you pause, mulling over your words before saying, “Maybe they even knew this person. The proximity to the counter could mean that the victim was comfortable enough to approach them, and that the victim was unaware of what was going to happen.”

He hums in agreement in your ear, and a feeling of satisfaction washes over you. Turning back around, you hand the photos to your professor and take a step back.

“I think you may be right,” he says with a nod, a small smile again creeping onto his features. You make eye contact and keep it, somewhat entranced by it.

“I’m glad I was able to help,” you smile. “Thanks again, Dr. Barnes. Have a good night.”

…

You anticipate going back to classes on Monday, knowing that you have to attend Dr. Barnes’ lecture. You don’t know if anything will be different after the night you spent talking to your professor. Part of you knows that nothing should be different. While there are only a few years between you, you are still his student.

But part of you wants things to be different. The entire weekend, you could not get out of your head the image of his face so close to yours or the sight of him as he leaned back in his chair, legs casually falling open.

Dr. Barnes is not in the lecture hall when you arrive for which you are grateful. You settle into your seat and wait for the lecture to begin by fiddling with your laptop. When your professor does come in, you notice that he combed his hair today, letting it fall neatly over his forehead. The plaid shirt he wears still doesn’t match his suit, but you find it charming. He slips his glasses on and begins teaching.

The whole lecture you try valiantly to focus on the subject, but you fail rather miserably, unable to think of anything but how you stood right where he is, your back a foot away from his chest with him humming in your ear. It is going to be a long term if this is how every lecture is going to go.

You are brought back to reality when Dr. Barnes makes eye contact with you. He smiles which you quickly reciprocate, then he turns around, gesturing to the screen before anyone notices.

It is definitely going to be a long semester.

…

Weeks go on with you and Dr. Barnes smiling at each other from afar, both of you knowing that you would be playing with fire if you do anything more than smile. But the longer you go simply smiling, the more you want to do something about it.

And one day, he does something about it. On your way out of the lecture hall, Dr. Barnes stops you, calling out your name. You walk over, anticipation coiling in your stomach.

“I’ve another case I’d like your opinion on. Do you have time tonight to take a look?” he asks you quietly so as to not draw the attention of the students still exiting the room.

“Yes. Here at 7:30?”

He nods, making a flash of eye contact which you return with a smile.

…

You make your way to Dr. Barnes’ lecture hall, your stomach roiling with nerves. You have thought too much about him, fantasized a little often for you to not think about it when you talk to him. The soles of your shoes click on the tile as you walk the hallway. You take a deep breath and open the door.

Dr. Barnes is reclined behind his desk, crime scene photos in his hand as he flips through them intently. At your entrance, his head flicks up to find your figure approaching his desk.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” he says as he stands up.

“Hi, yeah. It’s – yeah it’s no problem, Dr. Barnes,” you manage to get out, tripping over your words more than you would have liked. Another deep breath to collect yourself. “What can I do to help?”

He leans against the front of his desk and reaches behind him to grab the photos he was examining before. You take a few steps closer to grab them from his outstretched hand.

“A recent set of murders. It’s odd to say the least,” he starts, watching you intently as you study the photos.

The scene is horrifying, blood smeared across the walls, not as blood spray or splatter, but in an image. A lamb. Your mind spins as you look through more of the pictures, each of them showing blood splashed on the walls. You wonder what the killer did in order to get that much blood. There is too much for it to have come from just one body.

“How many people were found dead?”

“Only one,” he answers, leaning in to help you find the image of the body heaped over the table. You can’t help but notice everywhere his body touches yours, how his breath flutters against your neck, but you cast those thoughts away to focus on the case at hand.

“There had to have been more. There’s too much blood,” you mumble as you cart through the images again, counting as you go. A beat passes as you take in the scene, contemplating before constructing ideas.

“What do you see?”

“In ancient religious practices, a lamb would be sacrificed and the blood would be sprinkled around seven times. There are seven places where the blood was thrown on the wall,” you pause to show him each one. You glance up at your professor who is looking on intently, urging you to continue. “Then you have the body placed on the table. It could be sacrificial. The lamb was supposed to be perfect. Without blemish. Maybe – maybe the killer saw this person as their perfect – their perfect lamb, as someone who would put them in favor with God. The sacrificial lamb is sacramental. Symbolic. Messianic. It’s an act of repentance. So what was the killer repenting from?”

A hum from Dr. Barnes pulls you out of your reverie and breaks your focus from the crime scene photos. You lean around his form to place the pictures back on his desk, your shoulder brushing against his arm. His eyes follow you before he brings a hand up to rub his eyes, almost like he is physically rubbing away the images.

“Do you think the killer knew the victim?” he asks quietly, bringing his hands down to meet your eyes.

“I think they could be family. Family or close friends. They were their savior,” you answer, matching his tone.

Dr. Barnes nods in agreement and in that moment, you can see that he looks like a man who is carrying the world on his shoulders. He slouches forward slightly, his hair strewn around his ears with bags under his eyes. It takes everything in you to not reach out a hand to touch his cheek, to rub a thumb across his lips as you have in your dreams.

Appalled by your own thoughts, you take a step back to give yourself space to halt that train of thought. The movement makes him stand, subconsciously trying to keep the close proximity between you. You don’t break eye contact, making the moment intimate. Intense.

“This case has been keeping me up at night,” he confesses as he brings a hand to run through his hair with a sigh, breaking eye contact. “I wonder where the other bodies are. I can’t seem to get my mind around it.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you say in nearly a whisper. “You’re good at what you do.”

“Thank you for your help. It’s some really great insight you had.”

“It’s no problem, Dr. Barnes.”

“Bucky,” he says quickly, rushing it out like he knows he shouldn’t let it pass his lips.

“Bucky,” you repeat, trying the name out on your tongue.

You then fall into easy conversation, learning more about each other. You discover that Bucky has a PhD in criminology as well, and that he used to be a field agent but decided to leave it to become a teacher at the academy. Part of you wants to ask why, but you figure that it isn’t a conversation he wants to have while still getting to know you. He asks about your life, your family, your education. He is interested in why and how you landed at the academy. You answer him honestly, not inclined to hide away as you normally do when people ask those questions.

Bucky is surprisingly sociable. Based on his reclusiveness when it comes to students, you were not expecting to hold such easy and fun conversation. It makes you want to spend the whole night chatting, joking, exploring. But you know you should not stay.

When the conversation lulls, you glance at your watch and ask, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Bucky? I think I might head home.”

Before you can even register what is happening, he takes a singular step forward and leans in to meet his lips to yours. In shock, you stand limply, not sure how to respond. You can’t deny that you have thought about this moment for weeks, dreaming about it, imagining what it would be like to kiss him. Bucky. But you hadn’t expected it to happen tonight.

And before you have time to respond, he pulls away, opening his eyes to look at you with wide ones of his own.

“I’m sorry, I–”

You don’t acknowledge his apology, instead leaning in to kiss him again, only you are prepared for it this time. He responds immediately as his lips move slowly over yours, testing the waters. Your hands are still by your sides, but his come to settle in your hair and over your arm. His kisses are controlled and soft, not pressing for more than what you are willing to give. A sigh flutters from your nose which ghosts over his cheeks.

Breaking away for a second, you open your eyes and find his already looking at you. The both of you know that you are playing with fire. You are still his student, and he is your professor, but the feeling of his lips on yours overrules any rational thought at the moment.

You give a slight nod and he takes that as a green light to kiss you again. Bucky pulls you closer, and your hands find their way around his torso, snaking up into his hair. It is his turn to sigh at the action which causes satisfaction to roll down your back in waves that has you leaning further into the kiss, opening your mouth ever so slightly. He takes advantage and kisses you deeper. A soft moan escapes you at the feeling, followed by a shaky breath.

He pulls away, a triumphant smile playing at his mouth.

“I’m not sorry,” he whispers.

“Me neither.”

He kisses you once more, chaste and short, but it carries more meaning than any of the other kisses. It tells you that he has thought about this, too. It wasn’t a spur of the moment, impulsive decision. And it tells you that he plans on doing it again.

…

You settle into a routine with Bucky. After class on Fridays, he stops you on your way out and quietly asks you to come back to look over a case or his lectures. You always nod and come back at 7:30.

The unspoken truth of the need for secrecy looms over your blooming relationship, but you are almost spurred on by the illicitness of it all. You haven’t done anything more than kiss. You haven’t even interacted beyond the walls of the lecture hall. You both know that it is safest that way.

The more time you spend together, the more you find yourself falling in love with Bucky. His quirks make you smile. The way he perks up when you walk through the door makes your heart flutter in your chest. You have never felt so valued by anyone before. He trusts your opinions. He respects your honesty. You admire his dedication to what he does. You find his quiet nature calming.

The list of things you love about Bucky keeps you up at night as you replay scenes of kissing at his desk behind your eyes as you fall asleep. Bucky kisses you like you are ice cream on a sunny day, slow and hungry like he savors every second of your mouth on his. He never presses you for more, only going so far as to set you up on his desk, pulling your hips to his, allowing you to wrap your legs around him as you wind your fingers in his hair. He always sighs when you tug at it which gives you the opportunity to kiss at his neck, your chin always getting scratched by his stubble.

You love the routine. However, it makes it hard to concentrate during the lectures since all you can think about when you look at his desk is how good his hands felt on your hips and how his lips were pressed to yours when you were propped up on the wood yourself.

The semester continues on following your routine. If anyone suspects anything, they don’t say. You can’t imagine that someone hasn’t picked up on the soft smiles he sends your direction during lectures, and stragglers leaving class late on Fridays must hear his whispers for you to come back.

Steadily approaching the end of the term, you begin to question how long your routine will continue. You will no longer be Bucky’s student. Could you actually date? Would he want to? Is that what you want?

…

The familiar tug of nerves settles in the pit of your stomach as you walk to class with Bucky — Dr. Barnes if you were still professional, but you figure that his lips have kissed you a few too many times and in a few too many places for you to call him that. It is your last class in his lecture hall, meaning that beyond today, you are free to make a decision as to whether this is serious or not.

In your heart of hearts, you want this to keep going. You love how you feel around Bucky. While you have not said it out loud, you love him. You feel yourself aching to hear him say it, too.

When you arrive in the room, Bucky is already there, nervously flipping through crime scene photos while running his hands through his hair, creating a rather haphazard mess on his head. He looks more anxious than usual, and it takes everything in you to not to stride to his desk and ask him what’s wrong.

Instead, you brush past him, trailing a quick hand over his arm, hoping that it has a calming effect over him. His eyes flash to yours as you cast a look over your shoulder, smiling at him. He sends you a tight lipped smile back as his shoulders shrug down from their place beside his ears.

From your seat, you watch Bucky pace around a bit, obviously concerned about something. You rub your palms over your thighs when you discover them clenched in worry. You wonder if his stress has anything to do with the reason you were nervous coming to class today — the talk you know is coming tonight. You figure it does when his eyes glance over at you every few minutes before beginning the lecture.

You find yourself becoming sentimental about the semester as you look around the room, taking in the feeling for the last time. If you and Bucky do decide to continue your relationship, you can never take one of his classes again. If you don’t continue to see Bucky, you doubt you will want to take one of his classes again. You will miss his funny side comments that come out of left field. You will miss his mismatched suits and disheveled hair.

The sound of Bucky announcing the end of class breaks you out of your thoughts, and the shuffling of backpacks and feet brings you back to reality. A stream of students thank Bucky as they flow out of the classroom for the final time. You stall a minute, waiting for the throng to exit out the doors before approaching your professor.

“Hey, Bucky,” you say quietly, clutching your laptop to your chest.

“Hey.”

You watch him lean against his desk, hands pressed to the edge of the wood.

“How are you doing?” you ask the question that has been waiting to erupt since you entered the lecture hall an hour previous. “You seem nervous.”

A chuckle that comes out more as a sigh escapes him. “Yeah. I’m fine. I, uh, I just didn’t get much sleep last night. How are…how are you?”

“Wistfully contemplating the end of my time in your class,” you reply playfully, hoping that the happy tone will hide the melancholy you really feel about the idea.

This elicits a laugh from Bucky as he looks at you through his lashes — a look that always has your knees threatening to come out from under you. You take steps closer and set your laptop down on his desk, then place your hands on his shoulders, running them down his arms to settle in his hands.

“Do you want to get dinner with me tonight?” you ask, the words barely more than a whisper. You want to catch them in the air, afraid that your proposal to disrupt the routine will be rejected.

But Bucky smiles immediately, thinking for a moment before saying, “Why don’t I cook dinner?”

Your stomach flutters at the thought of watching him in the kitchen. You nod in response.

“7:30?”

“7:30,” you repeat before letting go of his hands to walk out the doors, throwing a smile over your shoulder as you go.

…

The drive to Bucky’s house is quiet but comfortable. About halfway through the trip, your hands link together, resting on your thigh. You talk lazily, asking questions about each others’ days since your morning lecture. There is something so calming about Bucky. You trust him. You love him.

Every once in a while, your eyes flick over to watch him drive, eyes intently focused on the road ahead. He can feel your gaze, so he sends a glance over to you with a soft smile playing on his lips.

“What?” he asks when you don’t shy away from his eyes.

“Nothing, Buck. I just like being with you.”

“I do, too.”

The sweetness of his simple confession does more to your confidence than you ever thought possible. You feel comfortable around Bucky. You need only be yourself when you are with him, and hearing that same sentiment from him gives you hope that he wants this to continue just as much as you do.

You squeeze his hand, at which he laughs softly, squeezing yours back, brushing his thumb over the knuckles on the back of your hand.

Gravel crunching under tires and the faint sound of dogs barking indicates that you have arrived at your destination. You open the car door and follow Bucky to the front steps of a small house on the edge of town. A large open field is situated behind his house, neighbors nonexistent. Given Bucky’s personality, you are not surprised to discover that he lives alone, away from people, away from the city.

A flash of nervousness pricks at your mind, as no one would be around if Bucky shows you that isn’t the guy you think he is. But you trust him, and you trust him enough to accept your fate if it does prove to be your downfall.

The door creaks open, and Bucky flicks on the light. Two big dogs come bounding to greet you both, circling his feet until he crouches down to give them the attention they are begging for. To see Bucky with his dogs makes your mind go fuzzy and warm, the tenderness of the scene eradicating your doubts from before.

“Charlie and Duke,” Bucky says, showing you which dog belongs to which name, rubbing each of them affectionately before standing and grabbing your hand.

“They’re adorable.”

“They’re good dogs.”

He leans in for a quick kiss, the domesticity of it causing your breath to catch in your throat. He pulls away smiling, then tugs you into the kitchen where he drags a chair out from the table for you to sit on.

“Sit,” Bucky says with mirth in his voice.

You laugh but do as you are told.

“I was thinking of making steaks. Is that okay with you?”

“Sounds great.”

You watch Bucky make his way around the kitchen, obviously having done this a lot. He looks comfortable. He catches you staring, meeting your gaze head on, an easy smile adorning his mouth before asking, “What are you smiling at?”

“You. I like seeing you here,” you say quietly.

“Not as much as I like seeing you sit at my table. I’ve thought about this a lot,” he admits with his back to you as he throws the steaks in the pan. “I like being around you. I’m more comfortable with you than anyone else. You make me feel — you make me feel normal. Most people don’t do that. They don’t — they don’t want to understand me. My old friends can only think about who I was before I quit the force. They don’t — they don’t want to like who I am now.”

The words spill out of Bucky before he can stop them, opening up to you in a way that he has not before. He has let you in here and there over the months you have been spending together in the lecture hall, but he has stayed rather private even then. Not sure what to say in response, you simply move from your place at the table to stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your cheek on his back. You can feel him relax into your touch, and it is a comfort to you both.

“Bucky, I think I am in love with you,” you whisper into his shirt. His body tenses, the sizzling of the meat in the pan filling the silence. Your heart pounds in your chest as you wait for him to say something. Burying your face further into him, disappointment and embarrassment creeping in your stomach, settling heavily when he doesn’t say anything. When a minute that feels like an eternity passes in silence, you mutter a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

You let go of Bucky and take a step back. He quickly takes the pan off the heat and whips around to face you, pulling you back to him, whispering your name.

“I love you,” the words are sure and confident coming from his lips. “I know I do.”

He looks at you intently, not shying away from your eyes before leaning in and kissing you softly. You get lost in his kisses, the pounding of your heart racing at a steady quick beat. Bucky backs you into the counter where he cages you with his hands as you weave one of your hands into his hair, the other running up his spine.

“Stay the night,” he mumbles between kisses.

You pull away and nod, meeting his eyes again, kissing him once without breaking the contact.

…

Settling on his couch after laughing yourselves silly over the dinner table, Bucky is close behind you with bowls of ice cream in hand. He hands you a spoon before sitting down right beside you, pulling your legs to stretch over his lap. He runs a hand absentmindedly over your shins as the two of you eat your ice cream.

“Why did you come talk to me that night?,” he asks between spoonfuls. “You didn’t really need my help. You knew everything I was telling you.”

You smile like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “I did need your help,” you assert before admitting, “but I also just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

The sound of his laugh makes your heart flutter the same way it does when he looks up at you from behind his desk.

“Hey, not all my professors are attractive recluses who deserve a starring role in my nightly fantasies.”

“Oh, so you fantasize about me,” he presses, the smirk on his face unlike any expression you have ever seen on him. He looks smug, proud, teasing. It makes heat flash to your core.

You hum but it comes out more as a squeak, your focus turning intently on the ice cream melting in your bowl.

“Do you want to know what I’ve fantasized about you?” Bucky asks lowly, grabbing the bowl from your hands, causing your eyes to lift to his. You watch him set it on the floor. Your heart begins pounding again as he moves to climb over you, settling between your open legs.

“What have you fantasized about, Bucky?” you ask quietly, voice shaky.

You take a breath when he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You open your mouth to deepen it, and he takes advantage, his tongue pressing to your upper lip. The feeling has your hips rolling and sighs falling from your throat.

He pulls away to murmur into your neck, “Every time I would sit on my couch, I thought about laying you down and kissing you until you can’t remember your own name.”

Your eyes are screwed shut as you tug at his hair, his words forming pools of heat between your hips where his own apply pressure. Your words fail you, only a whimper escaping you. His lips move along your neck, working their way back to your mouth, giving due attention to the places on the way that have you squirming beneath him. You hands tug at his shirt to slip your fingers beneath the fabric, skimming up his back, scratching lightly.

His kisses become feverish at the feeling of your nails down his back. One hand hooks your knee to pull your form even closer to his, hips slipping into place. You can feel yourself becoming wetter by the second, the slow circling of his hips against yours creating friction that has you moaning.

In one swift motion, his hands are gliding up your sides, taking your shirt with you. You lean up to help him before settling back down against the pillows. He sits on his heels to take his own shirt off which allows you to see him in the faint light casted by the lamp in the corner.

You notice a shining scar that extends from one hip to the other below his navel. Fingertips reach out to touch it, barely making contact before his own hand stills your movements.

“Is this why you quit the force?” you ask barely above a whisper.

He only nods, his feelings of vulnerability silencing him. You aren’t disgusted by it. It doesn’t change how you see him. You don’t pity him. You are simply curious. And amazed at his strength. He survived whatever left him this scar.

“Can I see it?”

Bucky takes a fluttering breath through his nose then nods again. You climb to the floor, resting on your knees between his legs. You glance up at him and see his head lolling to the side as he looks down at you, eyes hazy and soft. His eyebrows are scrunched, letting you know that he is concentrated, but the dam of secrecy surrounding Bucky is breaking with every passing second.

Tentatively, you stretch a hand forward, your fingertips grazing the scar. His stomach flexes beneath your touch.

No one has seen his scar since the doctor sewed him back up. He has a fear of pity. He knows that people won’t see him the same when they see the effects of what happened to him — of what was done to him. But he doesn’t see pity in your eyes. He sees awe and amazement.

Without warning, you press your lips to his stomach, the intimacy of it rendering his mind blank. You hear him swear quietly which urges you to keep going. You kiss all along the scar, his hips, then upwards before you climb into his lap. You find his lips again and kiss slowly, surely, passionately.

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, too.”

You share a few more kisses before he stands up, pulling you with him to his room. He fumbles through his dressers to find a shirt and pair of shorts for you to wear. He hands them to you, then rummages through the bathroom cabinets to find a new toothbrush for you to use.

You thank him after he says that he will meet you back at the bed. The calm and comfort of being with Bucky is undeniable. The domesticity of the night has your heart skipping beats. You quickly change and brush your teeth before making your way to his bed. Noticing books stacked on the nightstand on one side, you slip under the covers of the other, sighing contently when you settle in.

Bucky comes in a moment later with only sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He decided to not put a shirt back on, relishing in the freedom that being with you gives him. He doesn’t climb into bed immediately, but rather stands and looks at you for a moment, curled up in his sheets.

“What have you fantasized about here?” you ask teasingly, but your voice comes out thinner than you had intended.

At your words, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. He approaches the bed slowly, kneeling down beside you.

“I want to know yours,” he says, his voice husky and low. You bite your lip, your eyes widening. A shaky inhale.

Soft kisses line the inside of your knee, trailing a path up your thighs. You let out a hitched moan when he places a kiss to your clothed core, your hands winding themselves in his hair. You tug slightly, inviting him to come up to the bed with you.

When he climbs up, you lean back, your shirt riding up over your stomach. Wordlessly, you pull his hands to your body, his calloused palms caressing the exposed skin. He runs his thumbs under your breasts, causing you to arch into his touch. Bucky can’t believe that you respond to him so keenly. He barely touches you and you are curving beneath him, aching for more.

His lips find your neck, behind your ear, sucking gently. Your hands pull his hips to yours, rocking steadily into him. You suck in a breath, gathering the courage to grab one of his hands to lead it to where you want to feel him the most.

Bucky follows your lead without resistance, kissing you softly in an expression of consent. He helps you pull your shorts off, then presses two fingers to the wet patch on your panties. The pressure has your hips jutting into his touch, overwhelmed by the sensation when his fingers push the fabric to the side.

Your hips move in circles with his movements, his lips kissing you through it all. Moans slip and tumble from your mouth, leaving you hiccupping in pleasure. The cords in your stomach begin snapping when he speeds up his ministrations, your body contracting through your release.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispers to you as he helps you come down from your high.

Your eyes are crimped shut, but after a moment’s respite and a few encouraging kisses from Bucky, you come back to yourself. You open your eyes to find him watching you intently. You smile lazily then breathe, “Your turn.”

a/n: yayayay !! thanks for reading this !! let me know if you want to be on my taglist :):) and here is my masterlist if you want to check out my other work ! and check out MY SLEEPOVER going on right now !!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #mcu #marvel imagine #james buchanan barnes x reader #mcu imagine #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x you #smut

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scoonsalicious · 1 month

Text

Your Choice

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You're minding your own business at home one evening when local police Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes comes knocking on your door. Someone's reported a crime being committed on your property, and the sergeant can either bring you down to the station, or get you off with a warning... it's your choice.

Warnings: Language, because I have a foul mouth, explicit smut (unprotected PIV, oral (m receiving), fingering), mentions of drug manufacturing/possession/use, little bit 'o' bondage, implied dubcon, implied infidelity, implied abuse of police authority (honestly, read the whole thing through before coming at me for warnings, okay? I promise it'll make sense), bad cop jokes/puns/innuendos. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Inspired by actual events! And by that, I just mean the part where someone called the cops and told them I was cooking crack in my kitchen. Literally everything else is a figment of my imagination, alas! Special thanks to bestie @jmeelee for suggesting I take that awkward encounter and turn it into something to benefit all of mankind, and for giving me a title. The Cheesecake Factory is going to start forbidding us entry with the way we talk in there.

______________________________________________________________

You put the tea kettle on to boil before sitting down at the kitchen table to start grading your students’ papers. You’d been hoping to get through as many as possible before your husband came home from work, but with the number of corrections you were having to make on these assignments, you’d be lucky if you got a quarter of them done before then. It was disheartening. Distance learning during Covid really hadn’t done the public education system any favors and you felt like you’d been playing catch-up for years now.

When the kettle eventually boiled, you pulled yourself away from your grading to make yourself a cup of tea. You had just settled back down with your steaming mug when you heard an incessant pounding at the front door, startling you. You briefly considered not answering— you weren’t expecting anyone, and besides, who showed up unannounced at someone’s door anymore?

Serial killers, that’s who.

But the knocking continued, relentless and heavy. After a few seconds, you heard a gruff voice call “Police. Open up!”

“What the hell?” you asked yourself, putting down the tea mug and making your way through the living room to the front door.

Peering behind the curtain on the front door window, you could make out the figure of a uniformed officer standing on your front porch. He was illuminated from behind by the streetlight, leaving only his outline visible to you.

Narrowing your eyes in confusion and concern, you turned on the porch light, unlocked the door and opened it a crack. “Can I help you, officer?” you asked cautiously.

The man tipped the brim of his hat up, and you were met with a bright pair of blue eyes that glimmered with more than a hint of mischief.

“It’s actually Sergeant, ma’am,” the man said to you as he tipped his hat and offered you a wicked grin. You breathed a sigh of relief-- you knew him. Of course you did. Your small town didn’t have much in the way of local law enforcement, and James Barnes, or ‘Bucky,’ as most folks called him, was a specimen to be revered. Ridiculously handsome, tall and broad, he was built entirely of muscle as he towered over you from the doorway. He was a favorite among the local female population, often being specifically requested to provide police presence at PTO functions and Ladies’ Auxiliary events. Despite the gold ring he wore on his left hand, the women of the town were drawn to him like flies to a corpse, much to the frustration of his poor wife.

“What can I do for you, Sergeant?” you amended, with a touch of sarcasm in your voice as you offered him a smirk back, though you were still confused by his presence.

“Well, ma’am, seems like we got a call reporting suspicious activity at this address,” he drawled, leaning now on your door jam, fingers hooking in his belt loops.

“Here?” you asked, surprise coloring your tone. “Are you being serious with me right now, Bucky?”

“That’s Sergeant Barnes to you, ma’am,” he responded nonchalantly. Oh, so he was playing it like that, then? Good to know. “Got a tip that someone’s been cooking meth in your kitchen. ‘m here to check it out.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Meth?! That’s a new one!” You’d had some of your students call in pranks on you in the past, but this was an extreme.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid meth is no laughing matter,” the sergeant said in all seriousness. The look in his eyes immediately shut down any trace of humor you felt as you stared back at him. “The manufacture of illegal drugs is a very serious crime. I’d like to come inside and take a look, if you don’t mind.”

You pursed your lips. You remembered something your husband had discussed with you, and decided you weren’t going to make this easy for him. “Do you have a warrant?” you asked defiantly.

Sergeant Barnes sighed heavily and rubbed his dark stubble with the palm of his hand. “Ma’am, I’ve had a long shift. Let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be. Now, either you can let me inside, or you can come down and answer questions at the station. It’s up to you.”

It wasn’t an option, not really. “Come on in, then,” you told him, moving aside so he could enter. He walked through the door, his meaty arm grazing against the side of your breast as he did so, and you involuntarily shuddered at the sensation. You knew he noticed when you caught him smirking at you again.

“Kitchen’s this way,” you murmured, somewhat breathlessly, as you led him back through the house to the room in question. He followed silently behind you, his footfalls heavy and sure.

Once in the kitchen, Sergeant Barnes began looking around. It was obvious you weren’t in the middle of a meth lab. You were a high school English teacher, for god’s sake! You weren’t quite sure what game the sergeant was playing at, but you had no doubt he’d make his intentions known in good time.

After glancing around, he eventually said “Well, I can see there’s no meth setup here. Guess it was a false alarm.” You shot him a glare as if to say no shit, but he walked to the cabinet holding your glassware and opened it. “Well, well, well… what do we have here?” He reached in and pulled out a bong and a container of marijuana. “Now, I know next state over might have given the go ahead for this stuff, but in this state, recreational use of the Devil’s Lettuce is still illegal, darlin’. Mighty bad look for a school teacher to have it on hand, don’t ya think?”

You cocked your hip and crossed your arms in front of your chest defiantly. “That’s my husband’s,” you told him with a roll of your eyes. “And I’m pretty sure you just conducted an illegal search and seizure there, sarge.”

He put the bong down on the counter with a heavy clink and turned to face you, his face impassive and voice stern. “Now, seems to me someone’s got a problem with authority, darlin’. I don’t appreciate you talkin’ back to an officer of the law like that. Might need to teach you some manners.”

You swallowed thickly, finally having an idea of where the sergeant was going with his little drop-in and felt a frisson run through your body that left you trembling. Honestly, you were surprised you hadn’t seen it coming. There’d been talk, after all.

“Now,” he continued as he slowly made his way across the kitchen toward you, “as I see it, we got ourselves two options here. One: you can come down with me to the station and we can book your pretty little ass on possession charges, which is gonna take hours and require a hell of a lotta paperwork.” He was standing directly in front of you now, leaving just inches between your bodies. You sucked in a breath, the nearness of him making you dizzy. “Or two, I can get you off with a warning. Still might take hours, but at least we can both have ourselves a good time. Your choice, darlin.”

You took a step back, pressing yourself against the edge of the counter in an attempt to put some space between you. “I think you mean ‘let’ me off with a warning, Sergeant Barnes,” you said, your words coming out in an exhale.

You gasped as his hand came down to cup you between your legs and gently squeeze your mound through the fabric off your jeans. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I meant what I said, darlin’. But you gotta prove you’re gonna be a good, respectful girl, first, so why don’t you get down on your knees and show me how you obey the law?”

Your eyes widened at his command, unsure how to proceed. Unfortunately, Sergeant Barnes was impatient– he took both his hands and put them on your shoulders, gently but firmly guiding you down until you were kneeling in front of him, the large bulge in his trousers staring you straight in the face.

“Best get to work, darlin,” he growled, brushing your hair away from your face. “It’s not gonna suck itself.”

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening as you slowly brought your shaking hands up to his waist. With trembling fingers, you unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his pants. His massive erection was straining the fabric of his gray boxer-briefs, leaving a dark wet stain where the tip rested against the cloth, evidence of his arousal already making itself known.

Moving as though afraid of spooking a scared animal, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down to just above his knees and setting his cock free to bounce up against his lower stomach.

God, but he was big. If the women in town had any idea that he was packing so much more than just his gun, they’d never give him a moment of peace. You traced a finger along the vein at the base of his member, trailing it up his length to the weeping red tip. Coating yourself in his pre-cum, you used his essence as lubrication as you began working him with your hand.

“Not that this doesn’t feel good, but what did I say about sucking it, darlin’?” Sergeant Barnes asked through a grunt as you pumped him.

“I’ll get to it,” you told him, a hint of irritation in your voice. He had a lot of nerve making demands of you at a time like this.

You felt his hand come and roughly grab you by the chin, jerking your head up to make you look him in the eye. “You got the right to remain silent, Sweetheart. I’m gonna be a gentleman and suggest you use it. Find another purpose for that pretty mouth of yours.” He took his hand away with a wink.

You licked your lips as your eyes took him in. Leaning your head down into him, you flattened your tongue and ran it up the underside of his cock.

“Good girl,” he moaned as your tongue circled his tip. “Keep it up. Makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good with that sassy mouth of yours.” You took him into your mouth a little bit at a time, teasing him as one hand worked his base and the other cupped his balls.

You weren't a woman who liked to be told what to do, but the dominance in his voice made you shudder, an involuntary thrill skittering down your spine. He felt intoxicating, dangerous and you had the feeling you were in way over your head.

“Mmm,” he grunted as you swirled your tongue around the swell of his head before deciding to take him in deeper. You relaxed your throat and backed off only when you felt his length bump against it.

"Jesus, darlin', where'd you learn that?" he asked breathlessly. His hands moved to cup your face as you moved rhythmically along his length, setting your own pace. He was blissfully lost in the sensation.

But then, Sergeant Barnes wasn’t one to give up control so easily, either. “Stop teasing,” he huffed out before threading his fingers through your hair and tugging lightly, a clear sign that he wanted more.

You didn’t hesitate to oblige, taking him deep in your mouth until you heard him groan in pleasure above you. His grip on your hair tightened as he took over guiding your movement, his hips bucking up to meet your mouth until he was fucking your face with abandon. The taste of him was overpowering, salty and bitter, making your cheeks flush with heat as you struggled to accommodate his size, tears running down your cheeks and drool pooling from the corners of your mouth.

"I knew you had it in you," he grunted, his voice barely a whisper now as he lost himself in the waves of pleasure you were giving him. You looked up to see his eyes closed tight, his lips parted when ragged breaths escaped his chest that was heaving like a wild beast caught in a trap.

He was close, you could tell from the way his body squirmed and the throbbing of his hardness against your tongue. There was an urgency in his ragged breathing and the racing pulse beneath his skin that echoed through your core. But he wasn’t going to finish yet. Not if Sergeant Barnes had anything to say about it.

A sudden force yanked you back by the hair, tearing your mouth away from him. You let out a surprised yelp, wiping away the excess saliva that clung to your lips.

“Upstairs,” he ordered gruffly, his eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire. He tucked himself free of your grasp and rearranged his uniform as he stepped back, giving you space to rise from your knees.

You smiled and nodded, your head hazy with desire as you passed him and led the way to the narrow back staircase tucked into the corner of the kitchen. He followed closely behind, his heavy boots echoing off the wooden floors in a steady rhythm that matched the pounding in your chest. You felt his gaze on your swaying hips with each step you climbed, a soft growl echoing from behind you that sent shivers down your spine.

You led him to your bedroom, a quaint space painted in soft hues with sheer white curtains rustling gently from the light breeze of the warm spring night. The unmade bed serving as a reminder of love you and your husband had made just that morning staring you right in the face.

“‘m afraid I’m gonna have to search you now, Sweetheart. Strip,” he ordered, his voice gruff with desire as he closed the door behind him. He didn’t bother with niceties or romance – this wasn’t about that. This was about raw, primal need.

Your trembling hands reached for the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head, revealing the delicate lace bralette underneath. His sharp intake of breath was music to your ears, encouraging you as you unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, stepping out of them daintily.

“Turn around,” he said next, and you complied without question. You heard him suck in a breath behind you as you shimmied out of your underwear, revealing the round shape of your backside to him under the dim light.

“Jesus,” he whispered, the raw desire in his voice making your heart flutter. “This is better than I ever imagined.” He walked up to you, the rough fabric of his uniform trousers brushing against your exposed skin making you whimper. His fingers traced your spine, gliding all the way down to the small of your back, causing goosebumps to break out all over your body. “Now, you remember your traffic laws, don’t ya, darlin’? You remember how stoplights work?”

You nodded, knowing instinctively he was referring to safe words– Green for go, Yellow for slow down, and Red for stop.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Put your hands behind your back.”

You complied and felt the cold metal of his cuffs clink around your wrists, locking them into place. You were now fully at his mercy.

He cupped your buttocks in both hands, kneading them gently while his lips found the nape of your neck. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine as he left a trail of kisses there. “Color?” he asked inbetween presses of his lips.

“Green, Sergeant,” you hummed. You could feel him growing harder against you, the enormous length of him pressing against your ass making you squeal and squirm in anticipation. His groan echoed in your ears as he held onto you tighter.

“Gonna need ya to spread for me, Sweetheart,” he murmured into your ear, his voice low and husky. Your heart pounded in your chest as you did what he asked, positioning yourself on the edge of the bed. His hands found their way to your thighs, pushing them apart gently until you were open and exposed to him.

He let out a low whistle behind you, his fingers tracing lightly over your intimate folds. "You're soaking wet," he murmured, sounding almost awestruck. You flushed at his words, feeling a fresh wave of desire pulse through your body at his touch.

His fingers suddenly abandoned you, only to return dripping with warm slickness. He wasted no time in teasing your entrance, slipping his finger inside you and drawing out a moan that echoed through the room.

“You like that don’t ya?” he asked, his voice alluringly low as he curled his finger inside of you. You whimpered at the sensation, trying to push back against him for more.

“Patience, Sweetheart," he whispered against your earlobe before nibbling on it lightly. He slid another finger inside you, curling and stretching in a way that had you gasping for breath. "You're so tight," he groaned out, appreciating the way your walls clenched around his digits.

“Please…” you whimpered out, the anticipation making your body shake as you pleaded for more. “Please, Sergeant. I need more.” Your legs were wobbly, and with your arms trapped behind your back, you were finding it hard to keep your balance, but you wanted more of him.

He chuckled darkly at your plea, rubbing slow circles on your clit with his thumb while his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. Each touch was expertly measured, bringing you closer and closer to the edge before pulling back, keeping you precariously balanced between pleasure and desperation.

“I’m doing this my way,” he grunted, adding a third finger and increasing his pace. You cried out, your vision blurred as the coil inside you tightened threateningly. You were so close but he wouldn’t let you fall, each moment bringing a new wave of frustration and desire.

Finally unable to take the teasing any longer, he withdrew his fingers leaving you gasping at the sudden loss.

"Get on the bed," Sergeant Barnes ordered, standing tall in front of you; his arousal painfully obvious. “Face down.” You moved to accommodate him, getting on your knees and laying your face down on the mattress, hands still pinned behind your back.

The sound of his utility belt hitting the floor filled the room, followed by the rustle of fabric as he stripped himself free of his uniform.

You squirmed on the bed, desperate for his touch but unable to see anything with your back to him. The anticipation was unbearable, each passing second feeling like an eternity as you waited for him to resume his ministrations.

He moved behind you again, his bare, warm skin against yours making you whimper in anticipation. "Breathe," he commanded simply, and you did, inhaling a shaky breath before exhaling slowly.

And then without warning he was inside you, filling you up in one quick thrust that had you screaming out, the stinging stretch quickly morphing from painful to something far sweeter. He grunted at the intrusion, pulling back slightly only to thrust back in again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, stopping you from moving too much as he pounded into you relentlessly from behind.

Each thrust had you crying out in wanton pleasure, your body trembling beneath him. "Sergeant Barnes," you whimpered his name like a sacred prayer, the cool metal of the handcuffs biting into your wrists as you tried to brace yourself against his forceful movements.

He didn't slow down, didn't pause, just kept moving inside you with a single-minded focus that had you spiraling. His pace was unrelenting, his stamina seemingly endless. His fingers clutched at your hips in a bruising grip, holding you steady as he continued his merciless assault on your senses.

You felt him shift slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts and hitting a spot inside of you that made stars burst behind your closed eyelids. “Please…” your plea was cut off by a gasp as he hit that same spot again, driving you closer to the edge.

But he didn’t stop there; instead he leaned over you, his broad chest pressing against your back as one hand slid underneath your bodies, finding your clit with unerring precision. He started rubbing it in tight circles, adding a whole new layer to your pleasure.

Every new thrust of his hips sent him deeper within you, each stroke of his fingers on your clit became more intense. You were a writhing mess beneath him, completely lost in the ecstasy he was giving you.

"Bucky," you cried out, forgetting to use his title this time, your voice hoarse from screaming, your body trembling on the brink of release. This wasn’t a game anymore.

"I know," he growled in your ear, his voice low and guttural. "I can feel how close you are, doll. Just let go."

And you did. The moment his lips closed around the sensitive skin of your neck, marking you as his own, the coil inside you snapped. Pleasure washed over you in waves, each one stronger than the last, pulling cries from deep within you as your orgasm tore through you.

He didn't stop his movements, continuing to thrust into you as you came around him, your cries only fueling his own desire. His fingers tightened on your hips while the other hand continued to work you through your climax, prolonging the exquisite sensation.

His pace became erratic, the rhythm breaking down as he chased his own release. With a final grunt and a whispered curse, he drove deep inside of you, his body tense as he came, filling you with his spend. His guttural moan carried through the room as he rode out his orgasm, each thrust sending little aftershocks through your sensitive body.

His grip on your hips relaxed slowly, his breathing heavy and ragged against the skin of your back. He stayed still for a moment, buried deep inside you, allowing you both to come down from your highs.

Finally, he carefully withdrew from you, leaving you feeling empty. He rolled off of you with a sigh, getting up to retrieve the handcuff key from his trouser pocket and releasing you from your bondage.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft in the silence, as he worked to rub the feeling back into your tender wrists.

You looked up at him through your lashes and nodded, amazed and impressed at his sudden shift from commanding sergeant to tender, caring lover.

“So,” Sergeant Barnes began once he had determined there was no real damage to your wrists, “what time is your husband getting home?” You both burst into laughter as he pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair.

“Mmm, probably sooner than we expect,” you teased, leaning up to give him the deep kiss you’d been denied throughout the length of your little game. “That was a lot of fun.”

He chuckled and stood up, walking over to the dresser. “Yeah, it was; we should have done it sooner.” He opened the drawers, pulling out a fresh change of clothes for himself before moving to the closet to grab your robe. “Thank you for that; I really did have a long shift, and that certainly took the edge off. You were amazing, doll.” “My pleasure, obviously.” You’d been excited and intrigued when Bucky first brought up acting out his fantasy with you, but no amount of discussion could have prepared you for how much you had loved actually doing it. You raised your hands over your head, arching your back in a stretch, laughing as you watched his eyes follow the heave of your breasts as they moved upward, licking his lips. “But meth, Bucky? Really? That rumor gets out, you’re gonna get me fired.”

Bucky hummed as he grabbed some clean towels from the linen closet and brought them into the ensuite bathroom. You heard him start the shower. “You answered the door looking all sexy and I panicked,” he confessed, popping his head back into the bedroom, a sheepish grin across his face that made him look ever so boyish. You adored it. “Next time, I’ll say we got a call about you being a prostitute.”

You cackled at that, making him grin even wider. “Better not,” you warned as you got off the bed and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “otherwise I might make you pay for it, and I don’t think you can afford me on a sergeant’s salary.”

Bucky grabbed at his heart in mock pain. “Ouch. Well, how about we clean ourselves up and use the money I saved by not paying you to go have a nice fancy dinner, instead? How does that sound? We can talk about doing your fantasy next.”

You took his hand and led him back into the bathroom and the inviting warmth of the shower. “That sounds perfect,” you told him as you moved to stand under the showerhead. You planted a kiss on his lips. “I love you, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky placed his hands on your waist and gave you a gentle squeeze before kissing your forehead. “I love you, too, Mrs. Barnes.”

You began to lather each other up, trying your best, yet failing miserably, to not get too frisky with one another. “Hey, Buck?” you asked after a moment, a question coming to mind that you’d been meaning to ask him.

“Yeah, doll?” He was gently scrubbing shampoo into your scalp, and it felt like heaven.

“How come you gave yourself a Southern accent?”

Bucky laughed and pulled you close, your back to his front, as he planted a kiss just behind your ear, right over the mark he had sucked into your skin. “I told you, doll. You looked so fucking sexy when you opened that door, I just panicked!”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #mcu bucky barnes #marvel mcu #james barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes drabble #Bucky barnes x y/n

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flordeamatista · 6 months

Text

ACE OF WANDS

pairing: ghostface alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader

concept: The roar of a raging flame cannot drown out the silence of death.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: sex toys + voice kink + fingering, mature themes, nickname ──(pretty girl, Darling)

a/n: Thanks for listening to my idea a few weeks ago, @syntheticavenger, and giving me tips on how to make it alive.

lovely beta: @writing-for-marvel & @/syntheticavenger

THE WITCHING HOUR ──── KINKTOBER'23

masterlist

Shadows are sought by winds blown with deliberate intent to devour the gleam hidden by might.

The inky blackness of the night sky provided protection and secrecy as you emerged from your candlelit bath. Your friends had invited you out to dinner and to the haunted house but since you were about to go into heat and there was a ghost face killer roaming around, you decided to stay home. You did not want to put yourself in danger, especially during October nights, when stalkers and serial killers roam the streets.

A drop of water fell onto the edge of the bathtub as you come out of the tub. You had a white robe that hung over a towel rack on one side of your bathroom. Wrapping the robe around your still damp body, you grab your phone from the charger and lay down to watch some videos.

Breathing deeply and closing your eyes, you inhaled the soothing lavender scent. Your racing heart was calmed by the aroma, which sinks into your skin and bring you a sense of peace. Warmth climbed into your body as longing stirred between your legs.

Even taking a bath couldn't calm your pain now. You had grown into a dark pain between your thighs. A moan escapes you, wetness dripping from your pussy between your legs.

The roar of a raging flame cannot drown out the silence of death.

The screen of your phone shows an unknown number as you stare at it with squinted eyes. You swipe to answer and hold the device to your ear out of curiosity.

A long period of silence ended with the sound of his deep voice mimicking your moans.

“Who is this?” you whispered, trembling at the thought of hearing the answer. Fear dripping off every word you used, an impending dread on your lips.

“Someone who knows your darkest secret, Darling.” A chill ran down your spine as your ears were cut by the knife-edged words piercing through the silence like an icy blade.

A fiery image flashed before your eyes as you panicked, wondering what he knew about you.

“What do you want?” He was drawn to your voice even though it was barely louder than a whisper.

“Would you like to play a game, sweetheart? His voice was demanding, but something sinister made you hesitate before denying him.

Despite all your rage, he ordered you to play a game.

A ghastly chuckle echoed in response and your stomach dropped at the thought that he was using you for his own amusement. There was no escaping him now, not when you were an omega in heat, so vulnerable.

He coldly instructed, "Show me what belongs to me," and it became apparent to you that this was simply another round of his game—one in which only he would win. All the fight left your body as the reality of his power set in, as he commanded again, "Open the robe and touch yourself for me, baby girl."

This night was his.

Silence can be heard between two hushed screams, one breathing heavily and the other silently.

“Oh, Alpha….” The fear of a night filled with murders seemed like a distant dream.

The vibrator hummed softly in the dark room like a devil's grasp. Every word he spoke was like a lash of wickedness as he commanded you to pleasure yourself. As you caressed yourself for him, his deep voice hummed in the background. You placed the vibrator along your clit as you writhed on the mattress, feeling the vibrations move through you. In the silence, you moaned loudly.

You weren't mated, but it felt like you were. It was as if his voice squeezed your wrist, forcing you to caress yourself. During a phone call with this unknown man.

"When the murderer asks you to touch yourself," he murmured, you didn't hear the word murderer from his lips, but rather he was the man who cut into your pleasure by murdering sane ideas. "Keep touching yourself in my honor."

Every second, your arousal escalated, returning into an erotic chant of dark desire.

You heard his voice pierce your thoughts as he commanded you closer and closer to something deep within that only he could fix.

You imagined him pleasuring himself in the face of your moans and touching your body, your moans and panting became increasingly ragged. Against the trembling vibrations of the vibrator of your aroused body, you bit your lip harder, wanting more of the sensation around your clitoris.

There was an abyss of forbidden passion he pulled you into.

"How does it feel, pretty girl?" he asked in a low growl. Your breath came in shallow bursts as you sank into the bed with eagerness.

You became bound by an uncontrollable passion.

Within your room, there was a sudden flash of a silhouette emerging from the shadows of the window. The noise of moans coming from within distracted you from feeling the heat coming in stronger. The scent of him was strong and infused with a hint of blood. This was a scent that enticed you to wrap yourself around him and let him knot you up to relieve the pain.

A menacingly sharp blade that glinted in the moonlight was wielded by the notorious ghostface alpha terrorizing every corner of town. While you were filled with terror, you experienced a sweet sensation of pleasure as his voice echoed through the night air, "Hello Sweetheart, it's an honor." as he let his bloody blade move in swirls before charging into your exposed body.

He stabbed it directly into your vibrator and you gasped from the sudden, intense stimulation. Your body felt a wave of pleasure and tension, your breath came in sharp gusts. Increasing the power of his grip on the vibrator made your eyes close.

The vibrator stopped working after just a few seconds. Your pleasure was cut short when it died. The masked alpha came at you, and you knew this was it.

At this point, you have played the game but failed to defeat the Ghostface Alpha Bucky Barnes.

His cold fingers moved slow against your skin before reaching inside you, eliciting low moans from you as they touched your inner walls. In a firm voice, he asked if it felt better than your toy, your heart beating faster as you replied with a throaty yes.

A moan was elicited from your lips as his thick fingers reached your depths. After pulling his fingers out, he gently pushed them back in, enjoying the feeling of your wetness against his touch. "So wet, I want to feel your insides and mark you as mine," he murmured, tilting his masked face slightly.

As the sombre scent of lavendar fills the air, a bloody death mask faces becomes one with it.

305 notes · View notes

writerscafehub · 6 months

Text

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑❜𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

/) /)

( • ༝•)

c /づづ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 all the works made by the very talented members of the writer's café server in the month of OCTOBER. we ask, and highly encourage, that you reblog them in support. ♡

ALL WORKS ARE FOR THOSE 18+ ONLY.

𖥔 indicates smut

✶ indicates dark elements

By ☁︎☽ Cocoa ☁︎☽ @cocoamoonmalfoy @darksideofthecocoamoon

𖥔 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐌 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟕 | god of spring!timothee chalamet

Part seven of the crown him series

✶ 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 | the beast

Imagine a twisted beauty and the beast. Reverse kidnapping: I’m in your house and I’m not leaving

𖥔 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 | bard!timothee chalamet

An unlikely trio on an impossible quest pick up a stray along the way

𖥔 ✶ 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐓 | soft!dark!king hal

Hal could sympathize with Hades, for after seeing the light of life, how could he not pin it close to his darkness

𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 | king hal

Hal finds that sitting for his portrait isn’t bad at all

𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑 | prince hal

Disowned or not, the son of the king needed to be protected

By ★ Jen ★ @jen-with-a-pen

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | art student!frat brother!steve rogers

Steve can’t remember what happened last night, but his body sure does. Regret is the worst hangover of all - even more so when you can’t remember what you regret

✶ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐓 | bucky barnes

Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn’t in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives - but what is rescue if not relief from suffering.

By 𖠰 Nat 𖠰 @the-iceni-bitch

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐇𝐄𝐌 | kinktober masterlist

Prepare yourselves for a month filled with wicked and scandalous delights, with vicious and freakish lovers for whatever type of monster you may fancy

By ❈ Beanie ❈ @shadeysprings

𖥔 ✶ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 | kinktober masterlist

Four stories with captivatingly dark themes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 | dark!pete brenner

You work hard to entice the biggest possible client for your company, but he has his own ideas for you to make you say yes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐒 | dark!ransom drysdale

Ransom makes it known why breaking up with him is wrong.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐘 | priest!lee boedecker

The new priest of your church asks you to sing for him.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐔𝐓 | serial killer!lee boedecker

With the serial killer targeting boys, you thought you were safe. Until you weren’t.

By ❥ Courtney ❥ @chasingmidnights

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | thirteen nights of halloween masterlist

13 Nights of Halloween and each night is going to be a different (what I'm calling) "campfire stories". Each story is going to be told by a different character ranging from Chris Evans characters to Sebastian Stan characters to Marvel Characters. Make sure to take a look at the Intro to meet the various characters! So, gather around the fire and try not to get too scared.

By ⚔︎ Suz ⚔︎ @targaryenvampireslayer

𖥔 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 | ghost!bucky barnes

Bucky was taken from you by HYDRA a year ago. You mourn him and miss him, until you start dreaming of him… until he starts coming back to you

By ✵ Selene ✵ @fluffyprettykitty

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | sugar daddy!sam wilson

Quick and dirty sugar daddy Sam Drabble.

By 𖤛 Roo 𖤛 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

✶ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐉𝐀𝐇 | yelena belova

You find a stranger at your door, a visitor you can’t make leave

✶ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 | kraven the hunter

You catch the eye of a mysterious man who shares an unexpected secret with you

By ☆ Stella ☆ @a-lumos-in-the-nox

✶ 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃

A group of friends decide to explore the haunted house on the shortcut back to campus. Ignoring the 'No Trespassing' signs. They ease drop in on a meeting between beings, mortals have never lived to tell tales about. And find out the consequences of ease dropping on the annual Hallows Eve meeting.

𖥔 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 | druig and makkari and female!oc

The kink alphabet for the threesome

𖥔 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | druig and female!oc

Reader is horny but won’t do anything about it because she is busy doing other things. But her husband who can read minds can hear her inner struggle and does something about it.

𖥔 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | druig and makkari and female!oc

Makkari has a surprise field trip for Juni and Druig. They don’t know where they are going. It is her turn to pick where they meet up this time.

By ☄︎ Ellie ☄︎ @mrsmischief209

𖥔 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 |

Introduction to Kinktober

𖥔 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 | billy russo

Inspired by the song ‘Slow Hand’ by the Pointer Sisters

✶𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 | softdark!frank castle

Inspired by the song ‘Breath’ by Breaking Benjamin

By ☪︎ Gina ☪︎ @slvttyfied

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | chef!ari levinson

Cause baby I can build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me and every day is like a battle but every night with us is like a dream

By ✯ Vic ✯ @sunflowersteves

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐉 | carmen berzatto

Carmen knew you were a bit inexperienced, so what better way than to show you how?

By ⚘ Akane ⚘ @haravath0t

𖥔 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 | college au!alhaitham

College AU headcanon

By ⎈ Navy ⎈ @navybrat817

𖥔 ✶𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 | various SS and CE characters

One shots and ficlets for the month of October

𖥔 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 | bucky barnes

You want Bucky in your mouth. Simple as that.

By ✍︎ Em ✍︎ @writing-for-marvel

𖥔 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 | mob!bucky barnes

Newlyweds Mob!Bucky and wife!reader explore Europe and each other during their honeymoon.

By ❀ Ali ❀ @flordeamatista

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | various SS and CE characters

Kinktober inspired by tarot cards and their auras

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 | lee boedecker

A tale of your wicked deeds.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐒𝐄𝐓

By 𐀔 Alex 𐀔 @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

𖥔 𝐁𝐔𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | masterlist

Spooky season stories heavily inspired by Hozier’s album, ‘Eat Your Young’

𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | rockstar!sam/steve/bucky

When your friends invite you to a rock show and the drummer invites you back to his hotel room, you might get more than you bargained for yet…

By ✬ Astro ✬ @astrorogers

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑 | wanda maximoff

The Scarlet Witch has arrived which means her familiar must finally reunite with her.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 | wanda maxinoff

Wanda teaches kitten about Halloween

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | mistress!wanda maximoff

Mistress!Wanda x sub!kitten reader smut

280 notes · View notes

littlebabyyd0ll · 7 months

Text

mdni 18+! seriously pls go away if ur under 18! fall works for every day of october! some scary, some cozy, and almost always smutty. probably shouldn’t have called this ‘kinktober’ as not every day will be a kink, yolo. a lot of works will include ddlg themes, size kink, daddy kink, fem!reader and hyper feminine themes. you are responsible for your own media consumption. all pieces will have warnings at the beginning of their works. wishing you all the spookiest, ghoulish october ever! 🙀

masterlist ! navigation ! support my work

01. The Lion and The Lamb, Part One. (vampire!king!eddie munson x princess!reader)

02. Subdrop (dom!steve harrington x sub!reader)

03. Sapphic Age Gap (MILF!Nancy Wheeler x reader)

04. Trick or Treat (Daddy!Bucky Barnes x Little!reader) [plot has changed to a halloween party!]

05. First time parents (Dad!Steve Harrington x Mum!reader)

06. Sugar Daddy (CEO!Steve Rogers x reader)

07. Size Kink (Daddy!Ari Levinson x reader)

08. Overstimulation (Bodyguard!James Potter x Princess!reader)

09. Age Gap (DILF!Joel Miller x reader)

10. Dacryphilia (Daryl Dixon x younger!reader)

11. Hot cocoa and kisses (Daddy!Ari Levinson x Little!reader)

12. Mommy Kink (Nancy Wheeler x reader)

13. Daddy Kink (Daryl Dixon x reader)

14. Dry Humping (Eddie Munson x reader)

15. The Lion and The Lamb, Part Two. (Vampire!King!Eddie Munson x Princess!reader)

16. Stockholm Syndrome (dark!rick Grimes x reader)

17. Make-up sex (Remus Lupin x reader)

18. Cock Warming (Ron Weasley x reader)

19. A/B/O (Alpha!Steve Harrington x reader)

20. Babysitter (Joel Miller x reader)

21. Serial Killers (Ghostface!Steve Harrington x Ghostface!Eddie Munson x reader)

22. Safe Word (Steve Harrington x crybaby!reader)

23. Body Worship (Joel Miller x reader)

24. On The Run (Psycho!Eddie Munson x Psycho!reader)

25. Dumbification (Daryl Dixon x crybaby!reader)

26. Stepbrother (Stepbrother!Peter Parker x Stepsister!reader)

27. Thigh Riding (Dom!Remus Lupin x Sub!reader)

28. Brat Taming (Dom!Eddie x Sub!reader)

29. Refrigerator light (Dad!Steve Harrington x Mum!reader)

30. Pet Play (Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!reader)

31. The Lion and The Lamb, Part Three. (Vampire!King!Eddie x Princess!reader)

280 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 2 months

Text

Shy guy (4)

Summary: You grew up together. Bucky is the one. He’s just too shy to make a move.

Pairing: Shy!Bucky Barnes x Fratgirl!Reader

Sidepairing (friendship): Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: a kiss between Steve & Bucky (not reader), mentions of sex (Steve), the reader being a good friend, teasing, banter, friendship

Inspired by this ask: Shy guy ask and @dawn-petrichor-world made me do it…The idea for the kiss came from her too. 😊

Shy guy (3) - Past

Shy guy masterlist

Two years later, age of sixteen…

Your friendship with Bucky wasn’t the same after what happened with John Walker. You pulled away ever so often when Bucky invited other people to his birthday party or movie nights.

It wasn’t unusual for people to invite other people to a party, but it always left a bitter taste on your tongue remembering what happened because Bucky wanted to spend time with John Walker.

You were still friends, and you still felt deeply for Bucky, but Steve turned out to be a better friend. He was less impressed by other people trying to join your little clique.

Steve was still a heartbreaker, and notorious womanizer, but at the same time, he was the best friend you could wish for.

One call and Steve Rogers stood in front of your door, asking who you wanted him to beat into a pulp.

He didn’t want Bucky and you not to be friends, but at the same time, he enjoyed being your best friend again.

Movie nights were special to you and your friends. Sadly, you couldn’t join the latest movie night, and this is how Steve and Bucky ended up at Steve’s place, fighting over the movie they wanted to watch.

“So, any girls you dated lately?” Steve tried to tease his friend. He knew Bucky had never had a date with a girl before.

“No,” Bucky grunted and glared at Steve. “I’m not a serial lady-killer like you. I’m waiting for the right girl.”

“Did you ever kiss a girl?” Steve pressed on.

“I won’t tell you,” Bucky sighed, ashamed he still didn’t find the guts to finally ask you on a date.

“How do you wanna know you are into girls if you never kissed one or asked a girl out?”

Bucky frowned deeply. “What’s that supposed to mean? The way you treat girls tells me you can’t be into them either. You treat every girl you date like shit.”

“What?” That made Steve rethink his whole dating history. “No…I mean…I’m totally into girls!”

“Are you sure?” Bucky grinned as his friends suddenly looked like a confused puppy. “If you like them so much, why do you always break up with them after one date?”

“Hmm…” Steve nodded. “That’s nonsense! I like girls!”

“How do you wanna know? Maybe you are into guys and don’t even know it!” The brunette argued. If Steve wanted to mess with him for being shy around girls, he’d pay him back.

“How do want me to find out?” Steve bit back. “I’m pretty sure that I like girls.”

“How shall I know?” Bucky muttered.

“Hey, guys!” You almost ripped the door open to scare your friends. “I’m back and made it to movie night!” You stopped in your tracks as your friends looked like you caught them jerking off or something. “Okay, what did you do?”

Both refused to look you in the eyes. You had to annoy them for almost half an hour before they told you about their discussion.

“Easy!” You exclaimed. “I’ll kiss Bucky, and then Bucky will kiss you!”

They stared at you, wide-eyed and scared. “What?” They both hiccupped. “NO!”

“Oh yeah!” You nodded and already crawled onto Bucky’s lap. If he was too shy to make a move, you’d take matters into your own hands. “Relax, Buck. It’s only a kiss.”

“Only a kiss…right,” he stammered. Bucky didn’t want you to know it would be his first real kiss with a girl.

“We kissed before, on the mouth,” you cupped his face and brushed your nose against his. “I hope you brushed your teeth.” You teased before going for gold. Bucky gasped when you claimed his lips, gentle yet determined to make him see he only wants to kiss you from now on. “There, you go, Bucky.”

“I—” Steve cleared his throat. “Uh-will you kiss me too, Y/N?”

“Nah, you had your lips on every girl in our school!” You wrinkled your nose. “I won’t kiss you. You’re like a brother to me. That’s odd!”

“And?” Steve asked Bucky.

“It was…good.” He grumbled and shifted on the couch. “I think I’m into girls.”

“You can’t be sure,” you hopped off his lap and winked at Steve. “Now, kiss him, Stevie. I wanna know if you can do it better! But remember, no tongue!”

“Tongue?” Bucky shrieked when Steve sat next to him. Your friend never was one to back down. You challenged him so he’d kiss Bucky to prove a point.

“Relax, I’m a good kisser,” Steve cupped Bucky’s face, unsure if he should kiss him or wait for Bucky to take the lead. “Fuck it.”

You giggled when Steve pressed his lips to Bucky’s. They quickly parted and wrinkled their foreheads before wiping their mouths on their shirt.

“That was—” Steve retched. “I don’t want to kiss you again!”

“Same,” Bucky shuddered. “Y/N is a better kisser.”

You grinned at Bucky’s words. Of course, you were a better kisser. You practiced in front of a mirror, imagining it’s Bucky kissing you back.

“I win,” you sat between your friends and chuckled. “So, are you both into girls?”

“YES!” They hastily said.

The rest of the night was filled with friendly banter, lots of teasing, and stuffing junk food into your mouth.

Two years later your lives changed again.

The first days at NYU were almost the same as usual. You would spend your time hanging out with Steve, and teasing Bucky after classes, or try to hit it off with the new friends you made. Natasha, Wanda, and Okoye.

Steve and you were still best friends, and Bucky was still too shy to ask you out.

The only difference was you weren’t living at home any longer. You made enough money with your part-time jobs to pay for a small apartment off campus to have some peace and quit once in a while.

“I need to tell you something,” Steve stormed into your small apartment, making you shriek. You gave him a key for emergencies, not to storm into your room when you are chilling on your couch in nothing but your underwear.

“STEVE! We talked about boundaries. I could’ve been naked!”

He shrugged and plopped down on your couch. “I did it!” He grinned from ear to ear.

“You did what?” You groaned and put the book you tried to read down. “I hope you don’t mean you bought that bike you were talking about!”

“I meant sex, Y/N,” Steve smirked. “Peggy and I made the next step. I know this is sudden, but I think I love her!”

“Whoa!” You jumped off the couch to pace the room. “Steven Grant Rogers!” You looked at him like a strict parent. “I hope you used protecting, young man.”

“Yeah…of course! I’m not stupid, Y/N!”

“Good!” You nodded. “And…uh…I’m so happy you found someone you love, Stevie.” You wrapped your friend in a hug and kissed his cheek. “I hope you were a gentleman too.”

“She kinda took the lead,” he admitted. “I mean…it wasn’t her first time. I wish I was her first, but I wasn’t, and…” Steve nervously babbled. “But I love her, and it’s okay. We can do it for the rest of our lives.”

“Whoa!” You slowly let go of Steve, grabbing his upper arms to get a good look at your friend. “You really are in love!”

“Yeah,” his cheeks turned pink, and it made him look even more adorable. “I am.”

“Yes, it finally happened,” you wrapped your arms around him. “Maybe I can invite the both of you for dinner. I asked Bucky, and the others yesterday. If you want to, you can join us.”

“I’m the last one you ask?” He grunted.

“Babe, you weren’t available. I ended up on voicemail. You should check your messages,” you snickered. “But I get it. Your dick finally got some action, and all your blood ran down your lower half.”

You patted his back and sighed. If Steve was happy, you’d gladly support him and his blooming relationship.

Even though, Peggy Carter was the last girl you wanted to be around your friend. She always gave you the stinky eye, and you had no clue why…

“Dinner is ready,” you clapped your hands and looked around your crowded living room. “We’ve got pasta, salad, and vegetarian pizza. There are more than enough snacks too.”

“Where’s Steve?” Okoye asked. You didn’t hear from Steve for the better of a week, and worried about him. He didn’t call you back, but you assumed he was busy with his girlfriend and his art classes.

“He promised he’d be here. Don’t worry. Stevie likes to run late,” you grinned and popped a grape in your mouth. “Go ahead, have some food!”

You walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind you to call Steve again. It wasn’t that you wanted to be the kind of friend getting on Steve’s nerves, but you missed your friend and worried more than you’d like to admit.

“Still no sign?” Bucky followed you outside and glanced at your phone. “Do…do you want me to drive you to the frat house?"

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s just busy with his girlfriend. Peggy is not a big fan of me,” you said and shook your head.

“Why not?”

Before you could answer, someone walked toward your apartment. It was Steve, looking like someone had kicked him in the guts.

“Stevie?” You ran toward him to wrap him in a hug. “What happened? Is something wrong at the frat house? You can bunker at my place if you want to.”

“It’s not the boys. They are cool,” he sniffled and hid his face in your shoulder. You ran your hand over his head, and down to his shoulder, murmuring soothing words. “She broke things up with me for some other guy. Peggy said she doesn’t love me and that she only wanted to see if I can keep up with my reputation.”

“Oh, Stevie,” you whispered and kissed his cheek. “She’s a stupid bitch and doesn’t deserve my best friend.”

“I liked her so much, and she only wanted me for sex,” he snorted. “Can you imagine, she laughed right in my face when I admitted that she was my first.”

“I’ll kill that bitch,” you wrapped your arms a little tighter around your friend. “Do you want to go for a walk or…”

“Can I have some food? I didn’t eat anything today,” Steve rubbed his face on your shoulder. “You promised pasta and snacks.”

“Sure thing, Stevie.”

Steve spent the evening with you, Bucky, and your new friends. The others went home while Bucky, Steve, and you had a sleepover just like when you were just kids.

“She’s such a bitch,” you gritted your teeth as you had to watch Peggy be all over John Walker. They made out right in front of your friend, and it made you furious. “I’ll pay her back.”

“Forget it,” Steve shrugged. It was a few weeks later, and he slowly got back on his feet. “I got a date with her cousin, Sharon.” He grinned like the devil. “I heard through the grapevine that Sharon and Peggy hate each other. And Sharon is into kinky shit.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” you slapped his chest. “You sneaky bastard!”

“What? Sharon always had a thing for me, and now that I did it, I feel confident enough to do her good,“ he smirked. “I bet she’s love sucking my—”

You covered his mouth with your hand. “If you mention your dick, I’ll kick your balls. Just be careful and use protection.”

“Aw, you’re such a good friend,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your cheek. “Like a mom.”

“Dude don’t call me a mom! I’m not ready to settle down and have kids,” you snapped at Steve. “I worry about you, is all.”

“…and I love you for it,” he pecked your cheek. “Please never change, doll. You are one in a million.”

“Can you tell this to Bucky?” You sighed.

“Y/N, if you want to get your hands on our friend Bucky, you must take matters into your own hands. He’s shy, and if you wait for much longer, some other girl will make a move on him. You don’t want him to end up with someone like Peggy, right?”

“No!” You hastily said. “Hmm…take matters into my hands.” You looked at Peggy shamelessly making out with Walker. “I think you are not wrong, Stevie. I should make a move on Bucky…”

Shy guy (5) - Present

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #shy bucky barnes #college au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #Shy guy (4)#steve rogers x best friend reader

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monster-cock69 · 1 year

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Okay but rapist serial killer Skip kidnaps Peter and FBI agent Bucky saves him

Maybe the avengers are on like a BAU style FBI team

#peter parker #Bucky barnes #avengers #marvel #spiderman #prompt #someone please write this #winterspider #winter soldier #rape #serial killer skip #rape tw

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rookthorne · 6 months

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Spooky Season is upon us! What is a better way to celebrate the spooks of Halloween then to imagine all the mischief we could make?

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑼𝑵𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬𝑺

― BUCKY BARNES ―

֎ Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes + Bodyguard!Winter Soldier — Staya Volkov ֎ Farmer!Bucky Barnes — Peaches ‘n Cream Ranch ֎ Incubus!Bucky Barnes — Depths of Pleasure ֎ Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes — Sturdy Roots, Strong Hearts ֎ Monster!Bucky Barnes — Keeper ֎ Nurse!Bucky Barnes — A Hero ֎ Witcher!Bucky Barnes — Fate’s Gift

― STUCKY ―

֎ Firemen!Stucky — Built Differently

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑭𝑰𝑪 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑾��𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻

36,538

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑺

— The AO3 SERIES can be found HERE.

𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑺

This event is split into TWO sections. The first part is for the multichapter fic — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭 — and the second part is for fics that belong in my collections.

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── 𝐊𝐄𝐘 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

— 𝐀 = angst — 𝐖 = whump — 𝐈 = sick fic — 𝐃 = dark — 𝐃² = dead dove — 𝐏 = poly — 𝐊 = kid fic — 𝐅 = fluff — 𝐒 = smut

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫 》 3 / 3

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 》 Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑺 》 Fluff, spicy tension/implied spice, consensual stalking, primal, knife play 》 Friends to lovers, first dates, Modern/Halloween AU

𝑩𝒆𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝑩𝒆𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅

𝐅 • 3.6k

Rumours and tales had been spread of a character at the local Halloween Park that painted them in such a haunting light – they were a predator that even the bravest spook and adrenaline seekers feared, always alluding that he was far too ‘hardcore’ to trifle with. Luckily for you, a target had been painted on your back, and you were about to experience one of the hardest escapes of your life.

𝑩𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒌

𝐅 • 5.0k

The mask that covered the Soldat both embodied the character and hid the man behind it, the cloak of his character so effective it was a shock when he cornered and isolated you, to ask you out on a date. Stranger things had happened, that you were sure of.

𝑨 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆

𝐅 • 3.2k

It had come time for the final chase. Halloween had loomed in the back of your mind, until the night finally came. The Soldat’s promise from your first encounter rang true as you prepared – a promise that terrified and excited you in equal measure. Time would only tell, and you had to hope you were ready for the final hunt.

𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅, 𝑨𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅

Serial Killer AU 🕸 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐃 + 𝐃² 🕸 5.1k

PAIRING 》 Serial Killer!Winter Soldier x F!Reader WARNINGS 》 Swearing, angst, dark themes, DEAD DOVE, pet names, degradation and humiliation, depersonalisation, stalking/predatory behaviour, graphic depiction of background/side character death, gore and violence, panic attacks, physical violence and threats, coercion, choking, gagging/use of restraints, implied stockholm syndrome, ambiguous ending

The night from hell had only begun when you started seeing a shadow observing you; appearing in the corner of your vision as you partied and rounded up the stragglers to herd them out the door. You didn’t know that what lay ahead was a nightmare dreamed up from the depths of your worst fears, nor did you know that the night would be stained red by the hands of someone you couldn’t even fathom could stalk the earth. You weren’t sure what would be better — becoming one of the fallen that painted the walls red to escape what awaited you, or rolling over and baring your throat in a plea for mercy. There were no Gods to save you, nor knights in shining armour — if you were going to make it out alive, you would for damn sure have to fight for it.

𝑨 𝑹𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅

Witcher AU | 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 🕸 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐃 + 𝐃² 🕸 3.8k

It had been an ordinary day — nothing amiss, nor a cause for concern, not even the sudden appearance of soldiers in the local tavern. You should have known better, however, for fate had never left you in peace.

𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒏

Monster AU | 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 🕸 𝐀 + 𝐅 🕸 2.5k

The longing for home, for the traditions you had cultivated as you grew into the young woman that you were today, made you troubled. You were confused for how you had missed such a mundane existence, when you had started anew with the monster that lurked in the shadows. It was just lucky, however, that this monster – the one you loved with all of your heart — was a crafty trickster, and he knew just how to bring you cheer on the Eve of Samhain.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

Farmer AU | 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 ‘𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡 🕸 𝐅 🕸 1.2k

Bessie and Bubba, the centrepieces to your masterful plan, enjoyed the limelight and the pampering of your affections and attention on any normal day. Though, this once, it seemed the two of them sensed the importance of this singular occasion, and they were determined to give you a run for your money.

𝑩𝒊𝒈 𝑩𝒂𝒅 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒇

Incubus AU | 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 🕸 𝐒 🕸 3.4k

Little Red Riding Hood never stood a chance against the Big Bad Wolf, not when the wolf was a honed predator with skills he’d perfected over the centuries. A little game of chase would bring out the beast in your Incubus, and you just had to hope he’d kept some semblance of his charming self.

𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

Bodyguard AU | 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐨𝐯 🕸 𝐅 🕸 1.2k

Bucky was a known troublemaker — he made it a habit to stir and cause mischief whenever it was possible. It was also known that the number one victim of such atrocities was James, the ever-stoic shadow of a man that put up with far too much, and then there was you; a hopeless bystander to the crimes that Bucky committed.

𝑭𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝑭𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔

Firefighter AU | 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 🕸 𝐅 🕸 2.5k

It was always a rocky road, establishing new traditions within a family. Naturally, the two men wouldn’t make it that hard, but they wouldn’t make it so easy, either — that did not mean that it would be any less fun, or any less messy, that was for sure.

𝑺𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒇𝒖𝒍

Lumberjack AU | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 🕸 𝐅 🕸 1.0k

You had always had the biggest Halloween and spooky spirit — every fall was a haven for you, and this year, you had the opportunity to harness the ultimate joy of surprising James when he came home after a long day. His reaction, however, left you speechless and stunned; wishing for every season to become fall.

𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅

Nurse AU | 𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨 🕸 𝐅 + 𝐒 🕸 3.2k

Novelties came and went as the years passed — the phases of costumes and trends passed you by with as little care as the last, but not this year. You were determined to make this a surprise that would take Bucky by storm, especially if you reaped the rewards of it.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes event #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #rookthorne's works #event masterlist #FN

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rogerswifesblog · 5 months

Text

1 - The Devil I Desire

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

A/N: Hi! This is my first Stucky Series and I hope you’ll like it. Tbh Steve is a dick in this one (at least in the beginning) and it won’t be Peggy friendly either. Also, READ TGE WARNINGS, it’s important since it’ll later on contain still like age gap, cheating and other rather controversial stuff.

Here’s the first chapter! Have fun reading!

And a big thank you to @jamneuromain who helped me with the idea and especially some things later on in the story…(especially some extra drama👀)

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

Pairing: silver fox Steve Rogers x college student Bucky Barnes

Chapter summary: first meeting after a disaster….just leading into another one.

Warnings: age gap, alcohol consumption, past trauma

Bucky wanted to get wasted. Like, really get wasted. His tinder date was once again a total disaster and right now he just wanted to spend a fun evening with his best friend (preferably by getting wasted).

> waitin at the bar < Bucky texted Wanda, while sipping at his second tequila sunrise, scrolling through Instagram. All those happy couples annoyed him, posting all those cute pictures together. Why couldn’t he have this? Why couldn’t he be in such a cute relationship too?

He wasn’t even picky. He just wanted someone who didn’t hate cats or wasn’t a serial killer. (Tho he’d probably be able to look past the second part. As long as nobody hated his dear Alpine everything should be fine.)

Bucky definitely didn’t want anyone like today's date. He hadn’t felt this bad in a long time, really. First he had already suspected the other guy to be very egotistical and vain. Turned out to be the truth.

But after Bucky pulled up his sleeves from it being too hot in the restaurant? God, that’s where it all started to go downhill.

From the first moment where his scars were on display Bucky could feel his gaze on them, interested in a way, but mostly disgusted.

Just…

He couldn’t describe the vibe the other guy was giving him.

It made Bucky feel like…like an animal at the zoo, in a way. Everyone was looking at him. Judging for something he couldn’t change.

So after faking a family emergency he left his date and decided to text his group chat about wanting to go clubbing tonight. And getting drunk.

Very, very drunk.

Unless he’d find a hot guy to spend the night with. Then he’d rather remember it.

“Bucky!”, Wandas voice sounded close to him, even with the loud music killing every sound existing. Sometimes he was surprised how loud Wanda could be if she wanted to. Especially since she was always rather quiet. “Are you okay?”, her arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him from behind. “Hi, Wanda”, Bucky smiled tiredly, leaning a bit into the hug, sighing,

He explained to Wanda what had happened and why he was in such a bad mood. She was understanding, especially since she knew how much it took Bucky to carry himself with the confidence he did now.

Wanda hugged once again after Bucky finished the story, finishing the tequila sunrise.

After a while also Clint and Pietro came to the bar, both of them immediately ordering shots.

“So, tell us what happened and how drunk we wanna be tonight?”, joked Pietro, the accent strong on his tongue, especially now after already having drank some beers with Clint before they came to the club too.

Bucky chuckled at that, only giving Pietro one exhausted smile before explaining the whole story once again to both him and Clint. Just like Wanda they understood how Bucky felt.

While complaining to his friends he hadn’t even noticed the lingering gaze of a middle aged man, watching Bucky as he sipped from his tequila.

Steve sat with Sam in the corner of the club, having a whisky on ice in his hands and only partly listening to whatever Sam was trying to tell him. It was hard for him to hear what he said and he also couldn’t really concentrate on him when his eyes were glued to the younger man’s lips wrapped around a straw.

Then he looked back at Sam, noticing he had stopped talking. “Can you repeat anything of what I’ve said?”, Sam raised his eyebrows, laughing when Steve lowered his head, clearing his throat. “I’m listening…?” “Sorry, I was in thought-“ “yeah, yeah, watching someone out of your age range. At least if I’m correct about you looking at the guy with the manbun at the bar. I’m jot even sure if he’s out of high scho-“ “of course he is. He’s in a club. Drinking alcohol. He’s at least 21”, argued Steve, already slightly Offended.

He may like younger partners than himself, but he’d never be interested in someone who’d be below 21. If he had to be honest with himself he’d rather meet with people closer to thirty than twenty, but this young man definitely didn’t seem like mid twenties.

It broke his heart to imagine he couldn’t spend the night with him, but he was definitely too young…on the other hand, it’d be just for one night.

But he also couldn’t be too sure if Mr Man-bun would even want him. Who knew if he’d be into older men? Even though Steve kept himself fit and took care of his appearance, he couldn’t hide the graying hair in his beard, the gray strands in his hair and the few wrinkles that were already covering his forehead the more he furrowed his eyebrows. Or the little crow‘s feet from all the laughs in his life.

Sighing he looked into his Glas, noticing how some of the ice had already melted, making the alcohol watery and less enjoyable….which was a good reason to go to the bar and- “don’t think about it-“ “already did it”, Steve answered, standing up and walking over to the table, purposefully stopping next to his object of desires. Who was alone. His friends were on the dance floor while he was drinking something light blue again.

“Isn’t that a bit too much for one evening?”, Steve chuckled to the young man, after ordering himself a whisky. The young man quickly finished his drink, sipping from his straw. His lips wrapped around it so nicely, as he sucked the liquid…god, Steve, keep it in your pants.

“You get me another one and I’ll stop after that”, he said flirty, winking at Steve.

So Steve was game. A smirk crept onto his lips as he called out to the bartender to get the young man the same drink as before. This time a double.

“I’m Bucky”, the young man introduced himself, holding out his hand for Steve to shake, which he did. “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

Hm, the name Rogers sounded familiar to Bucky's ears, but he ignored it.

Instead he was already looking forward to meeting this attractive man, “so…what are your plans for tonight? What are you gonna do?”

Hoped You. Was Steve's First thought but he kept his mouth shut. “I’m not sure yet…I think I’ll finish this drink and go home”, he shrugged, not being able to keep the smirk hidden.

Bucky felt like he should immediately tell this gorgeous man he would leave this place alone but…he was never one for one night stands. He actually never had one, hell, he never had sex with someone, he only had his cock sucked a couple of times or did it himself. The closest thing he had to a one night stand was when he rubbed off a guy in the toilets of a bar on a first date. Afterwards the guy never talked to him again.

He decided to be honest.

“I’d be lying if I’d say you wouldn’t be going home alone even though I’d love to say it but…I’m not that kind of guy. I mean-I really want to know what you’re hiding beneath those clothes because your shoulders seem wider than the doors but…-“ “hey, hey, don’t worry, we can just get to know each other, talk a bit…we can go back to mine and just leave it at a conversation”, Steve smiled even though he had definitely intended the night to be different.

But he was good with his words. And he knew it’d work out to his favor.

It wouldn’t be the first time anyway.

So he wasn’t surprised to see Bucky texting his friends he wouldn’t be home for the night as they were leaving the building together.

Thank you for reading! I’d appreciate some feedback ❤️

What do you think why Bucky knows Steve’s surname?👀it’ll be important later on….👀

Taglist: @ozeriterchick @guiltypleasureisfun @ayronren (I’ve decided to tag some people that had reblog the series summary and might be interested! )

All posts taglist: @rogersbarber

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