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#so no bucky hate on here pls
becca-e-barnes · 5 months
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Thinking so much about clingy, mutually possessive, filthy sex and how much I just need that rn
The kind of sex where you and Bucky just can't feel close enough to each other. You physically can't get any closer than you are, his thick cock buried so deep inside you but you still need more of him. He has nothing left to give you and you're glad because if he was any longer, you wouldn't be able to take the rest.
You're panting against his neck, whining out your frustration each time he slides home into your warm, wet body. His own groans are low, rumbling from his throat and hanging in the humid air of the bedroom you share.
"You know I can't fucking resist you. I can't." Bucky moans, grasping one of your wrists, guiding it between your bodies, encouraging you to play with yourself while he fucks you.
"I can't say no to you. Fuck, I'm yours." You hardly hear what he's saying over the obscene, wet sounds of your body accommodating his.
Your fingertips rub against your slick clit and the sensation is almost too much. "You're mine." You whine against his neck, using your free hand to claw at his back, driving him impossibly closer to you.
There's something reassuring about the feeling of his skin on yours. It's hot and sweaty but it's so comforting being naked with him, enjoying the pleasure of each others' bodies. You don't feel vulnerable communicating your pleasure to him; you feel understood.
"I am." He groans, eyes fluttering shut, lost in the way your body clings to him. "All yours. And you're mine, aren't you? My good girl."
It's a relentless build up, each stroke taking you a little further than the last and at some point, the band just has to snap.
"I am." You whine, barely able to manage any more words than that.
"You feel like Heaven. You were made for me. This warm, tight little pussy fits me perfectly." His body still isn't close enough to you, not that there's any way you could physically feel more of him.
"You take me so well, you know that? You take every drop of cum and you still beg me for more. Fuckin' love it." Just the very mention of Bucky pumping his release into you makes your walls flutter, dreaming of the feeling of his thick load shooting into you.
"I can't last like this." You hear him mutter and you're almost glad because you're not far off either. "Can't last when I can see that pretty face." His eyes meet yours and he pulls you in for a kiss that stifles your moans for a few seconds.
"Bucky, please." You groan when he pulls back, rubbing yourself just a little too quickly now that you've gotten desperate.
"Go on sweetheart, let me feel you cum for me." It only takes a few more strokes for your high to take over, pleasure rippling through you in a way that leaves your legs shaking.
You almost miss the start of Bucky's release, given how distracted you are by your own but the unmistakable throbbing of him inside you tells you he's reached his own peak if his moans didn't give it away.
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YEYYYT UR REQUESTS ARE OPENNN
pls bucky barnes w angry/jealous sex
btw so sad we are not matching profiles anymore aaaaa
I KNOW YAAY!!? love your brain sm omg!! im gonna do the same format as the moonboys one you sent in- just my thots and brainrot. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 and ah I know:( matching green was so cute but im on here all the time and get bored of my theme so quickly😭
JEALOUSY SEX W/ BUCKY.
bucky barnes x fem!reader
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warnings. 18+ only!! pinv, creampie, little bit of manhandling but it’s very light - all kinda lovey dovey. mdni
I feel like with bucky, sex isn't hateful, nor is it bitter. I think it's something that is often passionate and slow, sometimes rough, but for the most part, it's very loving. so, I think anger sex is a no no. but jealousy sex??? a big yes yes
right, so.. im thinking that he is still coming to terms with having a voice and being in control of his own thoughts etc etc, and that makes him feel a little insecure sometimes?? he often feels like you deserve someone who is more open/ straightforward and in tune with things, someone who is also closer to your age
so so so, one night when you come over to his after work, you have a lingering smell of another man's cologne (not bucky's oops - just someone you shared an elevator ride with) and instead of him moping over it, he decides against it 
you'd be on his bed, you flat to the mattress, completely bare with bucky hovering atop, his thick cock gliding into you so SO so slowly. almost teasingly!! he'd have your hands held above your head, his left, metal arm securing them tightly, his other hand lovingly cupped around your cheek - keeping your face still, making you keep your eyes on him. his strokes would be very consuming! with his leisure thrusts you're able to feel EVERYTHING!! every vein on his cock, every twitch when his tip kisses at your cervix, every ridge when he brushes against your walls
he'd wind into you slowly, making you feel it all. every. single. millimetre. of. his. pretty. dick. he'd be very teasing with it, almost cooing at you when you make those pretty sounds he loves so much. he'd thumb over your cheek, eyes locked on yours, softly nodding down at you when your lips part and head falls back. he'd tell you how he's never felt a pussy as good as yours, and how no one can ever and will ever fuck you and love you and look after you as good as he does (he always gets a little ego boost when he fucks you, so woo, yay! go you) might I add, he whispers it against your lips, just saying. just him muttering praise in a hoarse, strained tone on your lips???? goodbye
he won't kiss you yet, just lips shadowing yours, swallowing your gentle whines and whimpers as he fucks into you - keeping that same slow, tedious pace. your legs would wrap around his middle tighter, keeping him glued to you as you reach your high. you'd tell him how he's the only man you want, the only person you want inside of you and that'll make him cum IMMEDIATELY!! just him being reassured and comforted??? makes him jizz on command
he'd fuck his cum into you, slowly and sloppily as you kiss. all very carnal and desperate!! lots of muffled whispers and heavy breaths as you both even out. ALSO!! he'd kiss your wrists if his metal arm made a mark, replacing the cold with warmth
gonna go cry now bc I want him so bad
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viixenvi · 3 months
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𝐑𝐞𝐝 | 18+
Summary: You work at a strip club and Bucky is a regular. Tonight he specifically asks for you in a private room. You never thought he'd love the color red on you so much.
Characters: Bucky x Fem!Reader
Warnings: A lot of smut, slight Dom!Bucky, praise kink, blowjob, handjob, teasing, edging
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈
A/N: This is my first time posting smut on here so pls forgive me if it's not the best.
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It was a slow night. You considered not coming in but your co-worker Tiffany begged you to come in so the two of you could get drinks at the end of shift.
"It's the slowest night ever," Tiffany whines, throwing her head back and holding up the twenty dollars she had just counted. Her bottom lip popped out slightly and she pouted.
"You wanted to work tonight," you shrug, pulling your hair out of the ponytail it was just in. It falls down your shoulders and the curls sit nicely on your back.
"I forgot Thursdays are always bad." She gets up and puts the money in her bag. She shuffles to the lockers and kicks the bottom of hers, causing it to open. That makes you laugh as you fix your lipstick that had smudged from my stage routine earlier.
You stop to look at yourself in the mirror. The red lace lingerie bra you are wearing holds up your boobs amazingly. The matching thong makes it all come together. All of it is covered by a red sheer mini-dress. You push the bra up and fix the straps.
"Y/n you got the second private room," one of the new girls informs you. You give her a smile and nod, letting her know you acknowledged what she said. Her heels click against the floor as she walks away. You feel Tiffany's hand on your shoulder as she leans into you to fix her heel.
"You are about to get so much money," she giggles, the alcohol on her breath was more prominent now. She wasn't supposed to drink on the clock but she didn't care at all.
Once she takes her hand off you, you walk out the door and down the hall to the main floor. The new girls are surrounding the younger men in suits. They don't understand that the old guys are where the real money is. You smile to yourself and walk to the bar.
"Who do I have tonight?" you ask the bartender, and she smugly smiles at you.
"Your favorite broody regular," she jokes. You groan. The Winter Soldier. He always just sits there and watches the girls, never interacting with them or throwing money. You rub your head and prepare yourself for the hour-long dullness that will definitely be happening.
"Cheer up, at least he paid for the room," she tries to help but it just makes you not want to go anymore. If it was a regular that you disliked but actually got money from then you'd be happier to do this. But he just sits there and drinks while looking like he hates everything and everyone. You collect yourself and turn towards the room.
The worst that can happen is you sitting next to him for the next hour doing nothing.
The music is blasting in the rooms, You know your favorite song is on next so at least you have something to look forward to. You giggle to yourself and swing open the door. Your eyes meet with his, they are cold and unwelcoming like always.
"Hi, Mr. Barnes, what would you like tonight?" You ask, not knowing his preference since this is his first time straying from his usual routine and getting a room.
"Call me sir," He says, his voice lacking emotion. To you, he's just cold. You don't know how he feels when you walk into the room. How he feels watching you dance.
How much his heart is racing right now while he looks at you in that red mini-dress.
"Yes sir," You oblige, his lip twitches for just a split second, but you notice it. He sips his beer and clenches his jaw. His eyes glide down your body, every inch of it being burned into his brain. He wanted his hands to roam your body instead. Touching every part of your body.
The song you love finally comes on, you smile and he notices your sudden mood change. "I love this song!" you say to him. He nods, taking in the new information.
"Dance for me Doll," he tells you, his voice slightly changed. His eyes were now fixated on your face looking from your eyes to your lips. You start dancing, dragging your hand across various parts of your body.
Bucky re-adjusts his seat on the big couch. His hands fell over his crotch and covered it slightly. He can't keep his eyes off of you. He's been watching you since he started coming here.
It started as nothing but he soon started to come in regularly for you, of course you didn't know this. He tried so hard to keep cool when he would see you. You consumed his thoughts all the time. He hated it.
He doesn't like that you can so easily exhaust his thoughts when he imagines all the ways he can ruin you. Your hair falls in front of your chest. The same hair he thinks about pulling while he fucks you.
Bucky soon realizes his cock is starting to get hard underneath his jeans. The bulge is now very noticeable to you. You stop to stare for a moment. You've never seen him have any reaction to any of the girls dancing.
"Fuck," Bucky mutters under his breath. You lock eyes with him, and you now notice the lust in his. He's trying so hard to hold back but the way your dress has hiked up and your ass is in full view makes his cock throb even more.
"Sir?" You say, he groans in response. His eyes are closed now, hand over his bulge. You get on your knees and lean on his legs, your hands on his thighs.
"Do you need help with that?" His eyes open and he looks at you. You look at him with an innocent face. He knows what you are doing and he wants it so bad.
His hand reaches out and his thumb rubs your cheek. You smile up at him and he licks his bottom lip before pulling it in with his top teeth and letting it go.
"Fuck, I just can't control myself around you Doll," He admits. You are slightly surprised. The Winter Soldier can't control himself around you?
"Sir?"
"Yes, doll?"
"Let me help you," You say as you reach for the zipper on his jeans. You unzip it, your eyes still locked with his. You pull his boxers open and feel his cock in your hand. Your eyes finally leave him and widen at the sight of it. It's huge. He laughs at your expression and pulls your hair up into his vibranium arm's hand.
You run your thumb along his shaft, stopping at the tip and rubbing it with the pad of your thumb. He groans and pulls your hair. You smirk and do it again.
He pulls your hair again and directs your mouth to his tip. "Suck." That's all you need to hear before you push your head all the way down. Your throat tightens around his cock. He moans and throws his head back, gripping your hair tighter.
"You are doing so good," he breathes out. Your hands grip onto his thighs as you gag on his dick. His legs are slightly shaking already.
"Going to cum already?" You tease him. He looks down at you, pulling your hair back and leaning his face inches away from yours.
"I've been watching you all night. If I had my way, I'd fuck you right here right now," He whispers to you. This makes you blush, you are already so wet and this makes it worse. Your stomach is doing flips.
"So why don't you?" he smiles and caresses your face with his other hand.
"Because you're too pretty to fuck here. I'd rather take you back to my place where we can have some real fun. I can show you how I have sex." His lips are just inches away from yours. You can feel his breath graze them.
You can't take it anymore, your lips crash into him and he pulls you closer. He bites your bottom lip, licking right over it after. You moan into the kiss causing him to move his vibranium hand to the bottom of your dress, pulling it up.
He breaks the kiss, pulling the dress over your head. "Take those panties off and touch yourself," he leans back, disregarding your dress somewhere on the floor.
"Yes sir," You get up and sit on the table in front of him, slowly pulling your panties off. Unlike the dress, it's thrown at him and he happily takes it.
Your hands glide down from your chest to your stomach and finally to your clit. He wraps his hand around his cock, watching you with an intense lust in his eyes.
You feel the excitement, you have never done this before. Yes, you masturbated in private, but in front of someone is way different. The familiar feeling of pleasure courses through you as your fingers rub your clit in a circular motion.
Bucky's hand is mimicking your actions from earlier. Moving up and down his shaft. He moans and closes his eyes but doesn't stay like that for long. He can't look away from you. You are a gorgeous sight.
Your moans only make him go faster, which in return makes you go faster. The music in the rooms muffles the sounds you both make, so no one knows what you two are doing.
"Shit, I'm so close," Bucky whispers. You whine when he pulls your hand away and kisses you. The pleasure you were having was something you were now craving. You wanted to touch yourself so badly.
"Be a good girl and don't touch yourself." You listen to Bucky. Even though you are beyond horny. He continues to touch himself, wrapping the panties around his cock.
You whine and grind against his leg for some friction. If you can't touch yourself then you can use him too. He chuckles at your actions. Smirking at how needy you now are.
"Fuck!" He moans out, finally releasing the cum he was holding in. You are too focused on your grinding to realize what just happened, so Bucky helps with that by pulling you off him and back onto the floor.
"Why did you do that?" You squirm. He pulls your hair back again and kisses you, this time more softly.
"Because you are not allowed to cum till I say so," His thumb caresses your cheek again, you lean into his touch but he pulls away. The panties he came on are in his hands. He looks at them then back at you.
"Wear them." He tosses them into your hands. You pull them on and look back at him, expecting more orders. He stands up and zips his jeans, this causes you to stand up too.
His hands reach down, grabbing a handful of your ass before smaking it hard. "God, I love the color red."
You lean in for a kiss, which he gives you. "Can I meet you after my shift?" You ask, a little desperate but it doesn't bother you now.
"I'll be waiting for you on my bike, wear a little more clothes," He teases before walking out of the room
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talesofely · 3 months
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Save My Tears (2)
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A Sequel (Part 2) to The (Wo)Man Who Can't Be Moved. (Part 1)
Pairings : Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary : Natasha's your ex-girlfriend, she broke up with you without giving you a solid reason as to why. Obviously, you want her back. One problem, she's unofficially dating Bucky Barnes. So you decided to solve it with a little performance.
Warnings : Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending (or is it?😏), swearing, one line used 'her' as reader's pronouns, pls tell me if u see anything else
Word Count : 2.1k
Note : here's pt2 ! pls let my family go now :c
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Natasha.
Natasha didn't want to attend tonight's party. 'Cause the last party she went to was with you. The last party she went to, she was clinging onto your arm. The last party she went to, she slept in your arms.
Unlike you, who always asked if you could be her date for the night, Bucky asked her to be his date for tonight. Normally Natasha wouldn't notice those miniscule things, but it was just so different from you.
Unlike you, who always insisted on picking her up from her room, Bucky just waited for her at the elevator.
Bucky brought her a bouquet of roses when they met at the elevator! You never bought her a bouquet of real roses... cause you always gave her paper ones, ones you knew she would appreciate more since they don't wither.
Bucky asked how he looked and said that Natasha looked perfect to be his date. You always told her she looked amazing, and joked about not looking good enough to be her date.
Bucky bought her a drink and a stronger drink for himself, like a gentleman. You always got the lesser alcoholic ones since you wanted to stay sober enough to take care of her in case she gets drunk.
She hated comparing him to you. But she couldn't help it. His arms just don't compare to yours.
She shook her head to clear away any thoughts about you, wanting to focus on her night with Bucky. She subconsciously searched the crowds for you, but she couldn't find that y/h/c hair that she could always find in the midst of the crowds.
Bucky asked her to dance. They stood in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor. Everyone's eyes were on them, she didn't like it. You always knew she felt uncomfortable being the center of attention. Bucky seemed to like it, though.
She saw how Bucky signaled Steve to sing. Mouthing a song title she wasn't able to read. Steve seemed skeptical at first, but the questioning look from Bucky caused him to concede and sing the song.
When 'Wonderful Tonight' started playing, Natasha's eyes winded. It was your song. The song you always sang to her. The song you two danced together. She's dancing it again, just not with you.
She tried her best to smile, and tried her best to not imagine you as she danced with Bucky.
She remembered how you used to sing the song in her ear as you two slowly danced around the kitchen, at 2am, using the refrigerator light as light, whenever she had nightmares.
"Oh, my darling, you were wonderful tonight" You—Bucky—whispered in her ear as the song came to an end. You—Bucky—kissed her forehead as you two pulled away.
She was going to excuse herself to the bathroom to clear out her thoughts when the next singer caught her attention.
It was you.
I saw you dancing in a crowded room
You look so happy when I'm not with you
You looked so breathtaking, she thought. Oh how she would've loved to arrive and leave with her in your arms. But she couldn't. She was in Bucky's arms.
"Hey, everyone. I hope y'all are having an amazing night. I do hope you enjoy these songs I'm about to play." You said as you clicked the instrumental version of the song you chose, on the tablet.
She couldn't deny how much she missed your voice. How much she longs to hear that voice say those 8 letters she used to hear everyday from you.
But then you saw me, caught you by surprise
A single teardrop falling from your eye
When your eyes met, she didn't know what to feel. She didn't know whether to feel happy, to feel sad, to feel hurt, or to feel angry that she let you go.
That bittersweet smile you gave her, hurt her in ways she didn't even know was possible. She got shot before, she got stabbed, she got punched and kicked multiple times before, but this type of pain is something she's never experienced before.
She wanted to run up to the stage and beg for your forgiveness while hugging you tightly when she saw the single tear falling from your eye.
I don't know why I run away
I made you cry when I run away
She left before the song ended. She ran away, again. She ran to the rooftop. The place where you two always ran together to.
She didn't even notice Bucky following her.
Wanda Immediately approached you when you got off stage. She pulled you into a hug before pointing at the stairway up to the rooftop.
"She's up there. Go follow her, please. Bucky followed her, I'm worried it might not end well for Bucky." She said with a wince, remembering the last time someone tried to approach Natasha while she had so many emotions running.
You bit your lower lip, your hesitation was strong. But the worried look from Wanda was enough to make you run up.
"Leave me alone for a minute, Buck." You heard Natasha say, trying to control her emotions. Her hands are gripping the rails so tightly, her knuckles were turning white.
"What's wrong Tash?" The nickname he used wasn't helping. You used to call her that all the time.
"Please, Bucky, just 5 minutes. Please." She pleaded, you noticed her grip was getting tighter.
"Just tell me what's wrong, Natasha!" He raised his voice. Something you never did in all your years you two dated.
"For fuck's sake I still love her! I still fucking love Y/N so much, that it actually hurts! Is that what you wanted to hear?!" Natasha finally screamed back, turning to face Bucky directly. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.
"Я так скучаю по ней, Bucky, which is stupid cause I was the one who broke her heart. So I have no right to act like it hurts me more, but it still hurts so much." She murmured, not even caring that she was crying in front of Bucky. (translation : I miss her so much.)
"What?" Bucky couldn't believe it. He thought they were both in love, he was even going to ask her to be his girlfriend officially tonight. "Leave, please." Natasha forced herself to calm down, glaring at Bucky as he shamefully walked towards the stairwell where you were.
When Bucky saw you, he tried his best to give you a genuine smile. "Her heart's still yours. Don't lose it." He said as he gave your shoulder a pat and walked away.
You took a deep breath before approaching Natasha.
"Tasha." Just one word from you was enough to gain Natasha's attention. She turned around in surprise, wiping her tears hastily.
"Y/N? What're you doing here?" She tried her best to act calm, using all her spy skills to act collected in front of you. But you both know that you could see right through it.
"Was it true, Natasha? You told Bucky you still love me. Were you telling the truth?" You asked carefully, not wanting to overwhelm her. You leaned your back against the railings beside her, she had her arms leaning against it as she looked at the busy streets below.
"What are you going to do if I said yes?" She answered your question with her own question. You just shrugged, staring up into the stars.
You felt her shiver when a particularly strong wind blew past you. Instinctively, you gave her your jacket.
You could've asked me why I broke your heart
You could've told me that you fell apart
"Why aren't you asking me why I left? Why I ran away? Why aren't you screaming at me? Why aren't you mad at me?" She said after you placed your jacket on her shoulders. She was frustrated at herself for ending things with you. She was also frustrated as to why you weren't hating her like she thinks she deserves.
"What's the point of getting mad? Being mad at you won't get you back, it won't help me understand why you left either." She hated how understanding you were. It made her guilt grow bigger with every word you say.
"I really want to ask something though," She looked at you expectantly, thinking of possible questions you could ask. "Why'd you run away?" You felt her breath hitch when you finally let those words leave your tongue. You were also nervous yourself, not knowing what to expect from your ex-girlfriend.
"I was scared." She took a deep breath before continuing, "You're just too perfect. We were so perfect that it terrified me. Nothing stays that good that long. Everything had consequences. Maybe the consequence for me was that you moved on so quickly."
But you walked past me like I wasn't there
And just pretended like you didn't care
Your brows furrowed. 'You moved on too quickly'?
"But I haven't moved on, Nat. What gave you the idea that I already did?"
"You just walk past me everyday at the compound ever since you returned. I thought you didn't care about it anymore." She finally looked at you, both your eyes meeting like they were always destined to meet.
"'Cause I didn't want to hold you back, Natasha. I thought it'd help us both move on if we acted like nothing happened. I guess it didn't, I'm sorry." You were always so nice. Natasha hated it. She hated the fact that she feels like she's abusing your kindness and that she couldn't do anything about it.
Take me back 'cause I wanna stay
Save your tears for another
"Does that mean you still love me?" Natasha hesitantly asked, biting her lower lip.
"Of course, Tash." You said with a small sad smile. A smile immediately made itsm's way to her face. But when she saw your smile, her's faltered and her brows furrowed.
"I'm assuming there's a 'but' to that sentence?"
You nodded slowly, giving her a smile that made her worries grow.
"I never stopped loving you, Tasha, just... not in the same way as before." Natasha felt her heart drop. No matter how much she tried to stop the tears from falling, she couldn't stop them when she heard those words from you.
"What do you mean, Y/N?"
Yeah, I broke your heart like someone did to mine
And now you won't love me for a second time
You bit your lower lip, trying to find the right words to explain it properly to her.
"I still love you, but you hurt me, Tasha. I understand you got scared, but if you really loved me you would've told me. You should've explained your feelings and worries to me. We could've gotten through that together." You hated seeing her cry, more so being the reason she's crying. But you needed to tell her this, you both needed it to move on.
"I'm sorry. Does that mean we— you don't want me back anymore?" She asked in a voice so quiet you could barely hear it.
I realize that I'm much too late
And you deserve someone better
Your smile broke all her hopes. She started sobbing quietly, something she's never done before. She's a silent crier, so hearing her sob hurts you way more than you expected. You immediately pulled her into a hug, confusing her but her mind was too foggy to even question it. Her arms instinctively went around your neck as she buried her face into the crook of your neck.
Save your tears for another day
"Of course I want you back, silly. I'm just saying that we need to work to get back to where we were before. I won't ever let you go again, Natasha, so please don't let go either." You whispered into her ear. Every part of Natasha came back to life the moment those words left your lips.
You felt her hug you tighter. You continued to whisper comforting words to calm her down, as she whispered promises to you as well.
"You are the only sure thing in a world filled with a thousand doubts, Natalia. Please don't walk away again." You murmured, feeling her nodding her head hastily.
"Never again, my love. You're the only thing that keeps me sane. I love you." She pulled away from the hug to cup your cheeks and close the gap between your lips.
That's when you knew, you're never going to see her in the arms of anyone besides yourself, ever again.
Save your tears for another day (ah)
Save your tears for another day (ah)
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note :
surprise ! the original ending was that bucky and natasha ended up together cause y/n didn't want to take natasha back. buuuut i didn't wanna hurt myself that much while writing it so yeah, u guys get this. enjoyyyy!
taglist (i won't do taglists but i will be doing it for fics w/ diff parts) : @taliiiaasteria @itstashaswife @username23345 @wandanatlov3r @esposadejoyhuerta @marvelwomen-simp @artm99 @d3adp00ls @freewaysigns-underpasses @unique0003 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @spid3rfan @ellieromanov @mikookaaaaaao @miky40s @ncsdlr @unknownfanfic @pipsipey17 @tarathia @kyky-maximoff @graceher07 (i didn't know if the people who asked for pt2 wanted to get tagged so if u didn't, i'm so sorrryyyyy)
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quiet-onset · 8 months
Text
me and mr. jones
pairing: steve rogers x reader
wc: 9.6k+, sorry
summary: you're with bucky, so why does steve want you so badly?
warnings: smut with a plot, so minors DNI!! unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cheating/infidelity, and slight exhibitionism so pls don't read if that's triggering, steve is a bit of an ass but he has a beard so it cancels out
a/n: tell a friend to tell a friend... she's baaack. but fr, i'm making my comeback. thanks to @brattylyricist for being my beta reader and putting up with how feral i get for thee steve rogers
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You hated Steve.
He was pompous, self-righteous, and stubborn. He always had to get the last word in an argument and hated to admit he was wrong. He was certainly and undoubtedly the man you loathed most on this Earth.
But he was also your boyfriend’s best friend. So, when Steve temporarily moved in with you and Bucky after moving back to New York, you made do because you were utterly smitten with James Buchanan Barnes. They’d been best friends for nearly a century — who were you to say no?
Not much changed. Except for the constant arguing between you and Steve, most of them for insanely petty things. Take this morning, for instance. You stood in front of the stove on a late Monday morning making a hearty breakfast for you and your boyfriend. Notice how Steve was not part of the equation.
The boys arrived home from their long run just as you had finished setting his plate on the dining room table. Bucky smiled at you as you poured a glass of juice, pulling out a chair as he kissed you noisily on the cheek. “What is all this?”
“I made brunch. Tony said he’s not especially busy — said I could take the morning.” From your right, you heard a quiet scoff from Steve. “Something to say, Steven?”
“Not at all.” Steve said, biting his tongue. He retrieved a bottle of water from the kitchen, ignoring how you glared at him from behind the partition.
“Well,” Bucky interrupted, “That was very thoughtful of you, baby. Thank you.”
“Of course. I hope you like it!”
“You’re not joining?”
“Still cooking. Oh, that reminds me!” You hurried back to the kitchen, suddenly remembering the pancake still sitting in the pan of the hot stove. You call back to him as you flip it over. “Besides, I’ve been snacking the whole time, so I’m kinda full.”
Steve walked by you and rested against the countertop. He eyed the nearby plate of bacon and went to pick up a slice, but you smacked his hand away. Steve let out an indignant sound as he snatched his hand back, “What was that for?”
“Did you make any of these pancakes?” You asked sarcastically.
“What’s your point?”
You could both hear as Bucky muttered a quiet here we go around a bite of his food, but you ignored it.
“My point is that unless your name suddenly changes to James, none of this is for you.” You replied. “I suggest looking in the pantry for cereal.”
“Seriously? You cooked an entire continental breakfast just to be immature?”
“Oh, I learned it from the best.” You threw a fake smile in his direction, batting your eyelashes. 
Steve scoffed, blood boiling in his veins. He didn’t know when you learned which buttons of his to press to upset him, but you did a hell of a job. Worse, he knew he was giving you the exact reaction you wanted. You wanted to see him angry, to make him upset. It amused you to see the oh-so-great Captain America get pissed off because of your pettiness.
One, two, three, Steve counted in his head, taking deep breaths. He was not going to let you win today. He walked to the pantry and pulled out a bagel instead, making sure to bump your shoulder as he padded over to the toaster. It barely broke his stride, but it nudged you forward, your hip hitting the corner of the counter. Then, he walked back to the fridge and bumped you again, this time almost throwing you off your balance. “Steve, you little—“
“Can you two go thirty seconds without fighting please?”
Bucky’s question hung in the air as you and Steve glared at each other. The look in your eye was intense, angry even. You hated how easily Steve got to you sometimes. His mere presence got you heated, and you dreamt of the day he’d move out. You loathed how smug he looked, almost as if he were taunting you, urging you to keep going. To give him a reason.
Pop!
You flinched when Steve’s bagel popped out of the toaster, grumbling to yourself as you turned on your heel toward the exit of the kitchen. “I’m gonna get ready for work.”
Once Steve was satisfied with his breakfast of a bagel and fruit, he joined Bucky at the table. His best friend shot him an exasperated look, and Steve’s brow went up defensively. “What?”
“Do you have to torment her?”
“She started it! She went out of her way to mess with me.”
“I swear, it’s been a year and a half, and you two still act like children.” Bucky shook his head.
“She is the problem, not me. Just ‘cause you let her boss you around doesn’t mean I will.” Steve knew the comment was a bit harsh, but he couldn’t help it, a scowl etched into his features. “Don’t know how you deal with her.”
Bucky only chuckled as he bit into a slice of bacon. “It’s because I love her, man. She’s the first person, besides you, to see me for me.”
Steve could tell that his best friend’s feelings for you were real. The look in Bucky’s eyes, Steve had only seen once before — and that was back in the forties. His face lit up when you entered a room, and he grinned every time you pecked his cheek. He could never say no to you, never even wanted to. Steve couldn’t understand how Bucky fell in love with such an insufferable brat, but it didn’t matter. You made him happy, so Steve learned to make do.
“Besides,” Bucky continued mischievously, “you have no idea how bossy she can really be.”
Steve’s brow furrowed at the statement. The longer he looked at the smirk on Bucky’s face, the quicker the realization came. Oh, that kind of bossy, Steve thought. He shifted in his seat, feeling hot all of a sudden. Sure, he and Bucky sometimes discussed their intimate lives in the past, but never while in a relationship, and never about you. He lets out something akin to scoff, doing his best to seem unimpressed, uninterested. “Does she at least make it worth being bossed around?”
Bucky leaned forward and lowered his voice, “You have no idea. Nine rounds, back-to-back, in one night. Nine. She’s the only woman I’ve met that can handle the serum’s effect on the libido.”
“Wow, happy ending every night — good for you.” Steve’s response came out with a playfully sarcastic sneer, but inside, he started to feel cramped, heated. Like he needed to crawl out of his own skin to rid himself of the fever. He settled for digging his fingernails into the meat of his thigh, an action that goes completely unnoticed by Bucky. 
Suddenly, Steve’s breakfast was infinitely more interesting than that conversation.
“Well not every night. Got let her rest sometime, y’know?” The brunette replied with a smirk, blissfully unaware of Steve’s need to douse himself in cold water. With that, Bucky stood from the table, taking a few strips of bacon from his plate and dropping them onto Steve’s, right next to his untouched blueberries. “Don’t let her see.” 
As Bucky left to prepare for work, Steve sat at the table. Blunt nails left crescents in his thighs as a shuddering breath passed through his lips. He stared at the bacon — food you’d made just to piss him off.
When you came back into the room, a lilac dress adorning your body, he looked up. The fabric clung to your curves and flowed out at your hips, highlighting the expense of your legs. If you noticed his gaze linger on your thighs, you didn’t mention it. You only glared at him when you saw the bacon on his plate. “That wasn’t for you.”
He picked up a slice, took a bite, and smirked, “I know.”
The auto shop was the only place Steve could escape from you.
After he retired as Captain America, he became a mechanic. He knew a decent amount about cars and learned the rest on his downtime. It gave him purpose, work that he could do with his hands. Creating, fixing, helping, that’s what Steve was good at. So the auto shop became like a second home. It was nice and easy, uncomplicated, which was exactly what he needed.
It seemed, though, that complicated always found Steve.
Ever since Bucky had uttered those words to him, the tiniest description of his sex life, Steve’s mind began to wander. You had always been attractive to Steve — he wasn’t blind. But the constant arguments you and he had put him off from having any lewd thoughts about you. But now, with this key piece of information, his mind was racing with the possibility of you.
He found himself wondering how your body would react to the lightest touch, what noises you’d let out. Steve bet they were sweet, a satisfied hum resonating through your heaving chest. But, of course, they’d get higher-pitched, breathier as you got closer to the edge.
Desperate. The word was probably not even in your vocabulary — at least not with Bucky.
You had him whipped. The man gave you anything you wanted without question. For the briefest moment, Steve thought the unthinkable: I could make her desperate.
That was when Steve knew he had to find something to do. Something with his hands, his brain, a problem to solve. That way, he’d be too busy thinking of potential solutions than worrying about his own moral dilemma. So he slid underneath an old, broke down pick-up truck and got to work. 
He finally managed to propel you from his thoughts, replacing each dirty vision of you with thoughts of what parts he needed to order. That, until his phone rings.
He slid from under the truck and wiped his hands on a nearby rag before grabbing his phone. And, of course, it’s you. The woman he loathed, the woman he was fantasizing about, calling his phone just as he managed to get a grip on reality.
He answered in a huff, “What?”
“Before I say what I need to say, just know that I didn’t want to call you.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That fucking attitude. “Then why call?”
“Look, you’re my least favorite option, Rogers.” She added, matching his energy. “I called Tony, but he told me to call Bucky. I called Bucky. He’s wrapped up in a super secret SHIELD meeting that he can’t get out of, and he told me to call… you.”
“Bucky said to call me?” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that he was about to do whatever she needed him to. For his best friend, of course. What other reason would he have?
“His exact words were ‘Well, if you don’t call Steve, I’d have to get you an Uber and you’d have to leave your car’ so—“
“What’s wrong with your car?”
“It broke down. Won’t start again.”
“Fine.” Steve was reluctant as he gathered his tools and a few spare parts just in case. “You in walking distance?”
“No, I’ll send my location, just hurry up.”
She hung up before he could reply, and he let out an inward groan. Before he could get too angry, he took a deep breath. This was not for you. This was a favor for his best friend. That’s what he told himself when he got into his car and followed the GPS to your location.
Steve pulled up in front of her car about twenty minutes later. He frowned when he noticed another car parked behind yours, and a man speaking to you, from his rearview mirror. As he exited the car and grabbed his tools, he could hear the backend of your conversation.
“C’mon sweetheart! You don’t want my help?” The guy asked with a condescending smirk. “I could fix you up real good, promise.”
“I’m waiting for someone already, thanks.” You told him with a tight-lipped smile, arms crossed over your chest.
“She’s waiting on me.” Steve called out. He slammed his door closed, striding over to you. As much as he absolutely loathed you, he didn’t want to see any harm come to you. He was Captain America after all. Chivalry was practically in his blood. He didn’t see how your eyes widened as he stood beside you, giving the man a hard glare. “You can go now, buddy.”
“Hey, I was just offering my services.” The guy defended.
“She doesn’t need them.”
“What? Is he your boyfriend?”
“Yeah, I am her boyfriend.” Steve’s mouth moved faster than his brain could think. He missed your stunned look, your subtle blink of surprise when he stepped in front of you, shielding you from the stranger’s eyes. Steve stared down at him, daring him to say something, anything else. His final warning is low and menacing. “Leave.”
“Fine, man.” The man stepped back, trying to seem nonchalant, like he wasn’t scared out of his mind. “Whatever.”
Steve waited till he drove away to move, his feet crunching over gravel as he turned on his heel. “Thanks for the help.” He said dryly.
It takes you little time to regain your senses, frowning at his smart remark. “Oh, so it’s my fault I was accosted by some creep.” You replied sarcastically. He ignored your comment, instead walking by you toward the hood of your car. You rolled your eyes and mumbled under your breath, “God, you’re such a prick.”
“Hey,” Steve’s tone was sharp as he popped the hood. “That guy would still be hitting on you if it weren’t for me. You’d think a thank you would be in order.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?”
“Unbelievable.” He grumbled. “Look, just tell me what’s wrong with your car or stop talking please.”
“How am I supposed to know? You’re the mechanic.” You snapped at him.
Steve could feel himself getting worked up in more ways than one as he looked up at you from where he bent over your car. His glare was vicious as he thought about letting loose on you right there, on the side of the road. Maybe in the car, against it, or — if he was feeling especially cruel — on the rough, gravelly ground. But he counted in his head, one, two, three, four, five, until his heart rate calmed.
He returned his attention to the car, leaving you to watch him in silence. You thought about his words, his voice echoing in your head. Yeah, I am her boyfriend. What possessed him to say such a thing? You tried to convince yourself that he was just trying to help you, to intimidate that creep into leaving you alone.
If that’s all Steve was doing, it didn’t explain why his faux declaration made your heart skip a beat.
You pushed such traitorous thoughts to the back of your head, watching as Steve messed with this and that under the hood of your car. “Do you even know what you’re looking for?”
“It’s broken, I’m fixing it.” He replied pointedly, not sparing you so much as a glance.
“Fine, fix it then.” You huffed.
You leaned against the car, crossing one ankle over the other as you watched him work. It was then that you started to notice the small things about Steve. The small birthmark on his collarbone. The stretchmarks on his bicep. The smooth, fluid motion of his muscles as he twisted and turned different things. It made heat blossom at the base of your neck, so you turned your attention to the gravel. After about twenty minutes, you leaned under the hood with him, watching as he used a wrench to twist something tighter. “Do you actually know what you’re doing, or should I call a real mechanic?”
“No, I’m just smacking things around for fun.” He responded sarcastically. “I’m done now, try the ignition.”
You practically ran back to the driver's seat, raising the key until you heard the ignition turn over with a purr. Just a second after, cool air blasted from the vents, and you sighed happily, sliding down in your seat. “Oh, thank god.”
Steve tried not to watch through the windshield as the AC blew a bead of sweat between the valley of your breasts. He shut the hood of your car and wiped his hands clean with his rag. “Thank you, Steve. I appreciate your help.” He said dryly, leaning down on your car door with the window rolled down. “You’re welcome, Y/N.”
“Yeah, yeah, thanks or whatever. You can go.” You waved your hand dismissively. “I gotta finish running this errand for Tony.”
Steve watched your car pull off with a screech of the tires, knowing that things are getting infinitely more complicated.
It’s worth repeating, Steve hated you. So why was he imagining what you looked like beneath that little lilac dress?
He could practically see it in his mind. Beautiful legs that would wrap tightly around his waist. Arms that could so gracefully wind around his neck. Hands that he was certain were soft, especially pressed into his more calloused ones, rough from years of combat and physical labor. He could picture your silhouette like it was burned into his retinas, the shape of the woman he couldn’t stand.
And why did he say he was your boyfriend? It replayed in slow motion, the words falling from his lips as he stood protectively in front of you. Steve told himself that he was just trying to get that creep to leave you alone. As much as he disliked you, he didn’t want some random guy taking advantage of you on the side of the road.
But deep down, he knew that wasn’t why. Something inside him, in the pit of his belly, wanted you. Romantically, he wasn’t sure — but intimately? Sexually? There was no question, he wanted you. He wanted to touch you. To grab your ass by the handful and leave little marks on your neck until he dragged what he was sure were beautiful noises from your lips. He wanted to bury his fingers, his tongue, and fuck his cock inside you until there was nothing left of the both of them. To fuck you deep and raw and primal until you begged him to stop.
But beneath the very real desire for your body was guilt. Loyalty to his best friend. The same blood that boiled with lust burned with shame. How could he think such filthy things about his best friend’s girlfriend? Steve and Bucky had been through hell together and always dragged each other out. Bucky would take a bullet for him, and vice versa — almost had on a few occasions. What kind of person did that make Steve?
An asshole, obviously, Steve thought.
And so he ignored it. For the next three months, he ignored your petty attempts at arguments and all your smartass remarks as best he could. Every morning when you left for work, he made sure to look elsewhere, not wanting to be tempted by how well your clothes hugged your body. He even had a one night stand, an extremely unusual event for Steve.
And even so, it was uneventful. He met a woman down at the auto shop. She was attractive, they flirted and exchanged numbers, and she invited him over. What they wanted was clear, and they wasted no time. He fucked her hard and fast, toying with her clit to make sure she came, before coming himself, filling up the condom she gave him. Then, he left, and they hadn’t spoken since.
And even still, those thoughts wouldn’t leave his head. For those three long months, Steve was tormented by fantasies of you, and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it.
He laid in bed, dreaming about it. He fantasized about eating your pussy in his sleep. He’d take his time with you, kissing and nipping at your thighs until you begged him, all high-pitched and whiny. Then, he’d take a long, slow lick, entrance to clit, before diving in. He’d draw the ordeal out, pulling away just before you come to suck on your outer lips, just enough stimulation to keep you writhing beneath him. And finally, when you begged prettily enough, he’d let you—
Steve shot up in his bed, panting. His sweat soaked his sheet. What’s worse, his dick was as stiff as a rock, precum staining his gray sweatpants.
He dragged a hand over his face, letting out a quiet, exasperated groan. What am I, sixteen again?, he thought to himself, Having fucking wet dreams?
Steve swung his legs over the side of the bed, deciding that a glass of cold water might help him cool down. He left his bedroom and headed toward the kitchen. Then, he paused, hearing a strange noise. His brow furrowed as he turned on his heel, walking back down the hall slowly until he heard the noise again. And unfortunately, it led back to the one place Steve was dreading.
Yours and Bucky’s bedroom.
Just like Bucky had confided in him, Steve heard you giving orders. 
Go faster, baby. 
Uh-uh slow down, not yet. 
Behave yourself.
If you’re good, I’ll let you come inside me.
Steve couldn’t take it anymore. Every nerve was standing on end as he practically ran to the kitchen, making as little noise as possible. He downed two glasses of cold water, finally feeling himself cool off by the third. He sat on a stool at the kitchen island, waiting for what felt like forever for the noises to stop. Not that he could hear anymore. His heart was pounding in his ears as he tried to forget how you sounded in the heat of the moment. He rested his head on the cool marble and tried to take deep breaths.
But the noises did stop. And you left the room to retrieve water for you and Bucky. But you’re met with Steve, at the island, sitting in the dark. 
“Steve?” Your voice was quiet as it cut through the silence. His head shot up, and you saw his chest heaving. You frowned at him, wondering if he was in pain. “Why are you out here? It’s late.”
“I uh… I couldn’t sleep.”
Your lips parted in surprise, taking in a sharp breath as you hoped that Steve didn’t hear yours and Bucky’s late night activities. Thankfully, Steve couldn’t see you blush in the dark. Without another word, you walked across the room and opened up the fridge. The warm light of the fridge shone on you, and he managed to catch a glimpse of your silhouette. His eyes quickly trailed over your body, which was covered by Bucky’s white t-shirt. Your legs, though, were bare — soft and inviting.
He looked away before you closed the fridge and turned around.
He heard your footsteps pad away, then stop. When he lifted his head again, you were walking over to his side of the island. You didn’t stand too close, just an arm’s length away. Your voice was missing your usual bite when you spoke.
“A couple months ago, when my car broke down and that guy was bothering me… Why did you say you were my boyfriend?”
Steve almost froze at the question. What was he to say? He took the briefest moment to think, to find some statement that, at the very least, seemed neutral. “Just wanted to get that creep to leave you alone. I’m not a monster.” Steve said. He followed it with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant about the ordeal. “Besides, it’s not like we like each other anyway. Why make a big deal out of it?”
You nodded. “Just curious.”
Just then, the same thought crossed both your minds: Maybe it is a big deal.
Steve’s brain short-circuited with that thought, and suddenly, his hand was moving. Before he could think, his thick fingers reached toward you and touched the skin of your bare leg. Guilt settled in the back of his mind as his hand curled around your upper thigh, lightly gripping the flesh there. When your lips parted to suck in a sharp breath, he pulled you closer still.
The air changed. It was thicker, heavy with the weight of the forbidden desire. No matter how deep the breath you took was, it would never be enough to satiate the tension of that moment.
He tugged lightly, slowly, to make sure you had the option of pulling away. That way, he’d know if his feelings, his desire, were just in his head. But you never did. You willingly shifted your weight as he pulled you closer, moving to stand between his legs. His hand reached up just a few inches to catch the edge of the shirt you wore — of Bucky’s shirt. He twisted his index finger around it to pull it taut, releasing it just as quickly. 
“Baby!”
Bucky’s voice called from your bedroom. You practically jumped away from Steve, like you’d been caught. Without another word, you swiped the two long-forgotten water bottles and hurried back to your room.
You’d never had a harder time sleeping than last night. Especially not after sex. But you tossed and turned all night, thinking about him. The man you loathed most on this Earth. The man you let touch your bare skin, even if for just a moment, while your boyfriend waited for you in your shared bed.
Thank God Bucky slept like a rock now.
The next morning, when you arrived in the kitchen, Steve was already sitting at the island with a bowl of cereal. You stopped in the doorway when his eyes fell on you. It was like someone had pressed pause on your lives, his hand even stilling with a spoonful of cereal, milk dripping from the convex side. There was nothing either of you could say to make what happened the night before okay. Nor could anything make you forget. So, you both just stared, waiting to see who would speak first.
Then, Bucky approached from behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. He started to greet you both, but stopped for a moment, looking back and forth from you to Steve. “You two are not having a staring contest right now.”
You watched as Steve blinked a bit and shook his head, returning back to his breakfast. You let out a breath, forcing out a little laugh. “Well, not anymore. Steve blinked.”
Bucky chuckled and shook his head before brushing past you. “Just when I thought you two had turned a corner.”
You have no idea, you thought to yourself. The thought made your stomach turn uncomfortably. The weight in the air was nonexistent to Bucky, and that makes everything so much worse. Not even in his nightmares would his best friend and the love of his life betray him in that way. But even with Bucky in the room, all you could think about was how the callouses in Steve’s hand felt against your bare skin. The moment was short and fleeting, but it felt like a lifetime.
The hour that breakfast took was uneventful, save for a few passing glances between you and Steve. Bucky led the conversation, as usual, asking about everyone’s plans for the day. Steve planned to work on the old Mustang in the garage. Bucky, on the other hand, had to go into work to finish some paperwork. You had the day off and planned to just relax — which now meant avoiding Steve.
“I’m going to go on a run first though.” Bucky noted, his stool scraping against the floor as he stood up. “Anyone want to join?”
Steve was quick to agree, “I could go for a run.”
“On a thirteen mile run? No thanks.” You quickly answered with a playful scoff. You tried to tell yourself that the frown pulling at the corners of your lips was because you’d miss Bucky — not because Steve would rather go on an excruciatingly long run than be around you. Definitely because you’d miss Bucky.
“I’m going to head to work right after the run, so it’s just you and Steve for a couple hours.” Bucky told you. He pecked you on the lips three times, waiting for your frown to return to a smile. When it did, he kissed you a bit longer, nipping on your bottom lip. “You two play nice.”
Steve cherished every mile of that run with Bucky. He counted the minutes, glancing at his watch every so often. Even when their run was winding down, and they approached the house, Steve offered to go longer. “Another mile or two?” He’d asked Bucky.
“Can’t, gotta head in.” Bucky panted. He noticed the look on Steve’s face but chalked it up to disdain for you. “It won’t be that bad, Steve. It’s a few hours.”
“Yeah.” Steve nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
And then Bucky hopped in the car and headed to work. Meanwhile, you curled up with a book and a mug of tea and sat in the living room, hoping that Steve would just use the back entrance. Of course, you were not so lucky.
Steve entered the house, still in his white t-shirt and joggers. He was planning on changing into some older clothes so he could work on the car, but when he saw you, he stopped. He looked at how you sat on the couch, knees drawn up and resting to the side. By the looks of it, you were halfway through your book, but he still managed to tear your attention from the action on those pages.
“Hey.” It was all he could manage, a single word to fill the empty, potent air.
“Hey.” No snark in her response, he thought. Noted.
“What, um, what are you reading?”
“Can’t you see the cover?” You shifted in your seat, free hand resting on your thigh. You fell back on your defenses, sarcasm and pettiness, to maintain your control. “Or maybe you can’t read, is that it?”
There she is, the fucking brat. Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s obviously the issue here.” His legs carried him to the other side of the couch. Just resting his legs, he convinced himself. A quick rest before going on with his day.
His eyes trailed over the cover of your book, seeing the cartoon image of a man and woman holding hands, along with big pink bubble letters that spelled out the title, Me and Mr. Jones — obviously some sort of romance novel. Then, Steve got sidetracked. He watched your hand that rested on your bare thigh, your thumb stroking the skin there absentmindedly, when he realized.
That’s the same spot he touched you last night. It’s where he grazed your skin, where he wrapped his hand around to pull you closer. You were stroking that spot so delicately, and you didn’t even notice.
It drove Steve wild. He needed to think about something else quickly.
“What’s it about?” He asked.
Your eyes widened. You curled in on yourself, turning your body to face Steve but pulling the book toward your chest. “Nothing, mind your business.”
Finally, something else for Steve to focus on. It was rare that he had the upper hand, that he could embarrass you. An eyebrow perked up as he smirked at you from across the couch. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That.” He waved his hand around at you with a chuckle. “That reaction. Whatever you’re reading, it can’t be that bad.”
“You wouldn’t like it.” The words came out quick and defensive as your eyes returned to the page. Then, Steve did the unimaginable. He leaned across the couch and snatched the book from your hands, laughing as you immediately started trying to retrieve it. “Give it back, you asshole!”
“C’mon, Y/N.” He teased. He held you back easily, keeping the book far above your head. “I just want to see if I’ll like it. Let me read it!”
He laughed as your protests became less and less aggressive, finally devolving into pleas. It was too late though. Steve started to read. Aloud. 
“She…,” He paused at the passage, his vocal cords pulled tight as he read. “She kissed him softly on his neck, nibbling on his Adam’s apple.” His gaze returned to you, noting how you avoided his eyes. “Do you usually read things like this, Y/N?”
Your voice was soft when you answered, taking on a much smaller tone than he’d ever heard from you. “Just give it back, alright?”
His eyes trailed over you, at how you rested on your knees beside him on the couch. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, embarrassment clear as day in the faint tint of your skin. It was a new emotion he’d never seen in you. You always had the upper hand, always made the situation turn out in your favor, always got what you wanted. Now, watching you reach over to grab the book, he smacked your hand away again. He was going to make the most of this moment. He wanted to show you what it felt like for someone else to control the situation.
So he kept reading.
“Nathan pulled her back by her hair, holding her still so he could dive in for another kiss. It was desperate, deep, a reflection of the control that was slowly slipping from his grasp. Rebecca managed to pull back for air and gasped. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’ She urged, biting back a moan.”
“Steve, c’mon.” You pleaded quietly, toying with the hem of your thin cotton shorts. “I get your point, just gi—”
“But he just wraps a hand around her throat, squeezing softly. He was…,” Steve paused as his eyes skimmed ahead, “He was past the point of caring. All he could think about was her body, her noises, her pleasure. Nathan should absolutely not be kidding Rebecca like this, touching her like this, but—” He nearly choked on his own breath, eyes locked on each and every minute squirm of your body, on the way you shied away from his gaze. He finished the line from the book in a low whisper, “But that only made him want her more.”
You both knew what was happening. It was the loudest silence you’d ever heard, the only sound being your quiet heaving breaths. It was a silence that reeked of disloyalty, a sweet temptation that was almost too good to ignore.
During that silence, Steve realized that he understood exactly how Nathan felt. Like the character from your book, Steve was running out of patience, out of self control. He couldn’t find the strength to move away from you, and if you didn’t move soon, he was going to do it. He was going to betray his best friend. He was going to take what he wanted from you. His last line of defense only came when he saw your eyes slowly look up. He noticed the quick pause you made at the evidence of his arousal beneath his sweatpants, the soft fabric straining against his growing bulge, and he’s two seconds away from losing it.
“Y/N, if you don’t move to the other side of this couch right now, I won’t be able to stop myself.” Steve’s warning was slow and rough.
And suddenly, it’s all too real. In so many words, he’d confirmed that he had these feelings too. The same conflicted feeling that pounded against your chest every day for three months. An identical increased heart rate, just like when he said he was your boyfriend. He’d been thinking about you, too. When you finally met his eyes, they were unlike you’d ever seen them. Dark and greedy, pupils already blown out, leaving only a thin blue ring. 
You tested the territory softly. “What if I don’t want to?”
“Move.”
The singular word was more like a growl. One last chance at stopping this, at saving your relationship with Bucky.
Instead, you scooted closer. Just enough for your knee to brush against the outside of his thigh. You leaned over and reached across his lap, taking the long forgotten book from his hand. He looked almost relieved, thinking that you were going to take your book and return to reading in solitude. But his hands clenched into fists when he heard your soft voice once more.
“‘I don’t care.’ Nathan panted as he bit down on her earlobe.” You read softly, slowly, making sure every word sinks in. “‘We’ll deal with the consequences later. Right now, I have to have you.’ Neither he nor Rebecca had the chance to protest before Nathan… before Nathan slid ins—”
The passage was cut short when Steve pulled you closer by the nape of your neck, his lips pushing feverishly against yours. Your surprise lasted for but a moment before you melted into him, and your eyes fluttered closed.
His hands squeezed at you, at the back of your neck and at your hip, wanting you closer. One hand snatched the book away and threw it somewhere behind the couch. Just as quickly, Steve’s hands pushed you backward, your back hitting the fabric with a soft thud. He didn’t hesitate to pull your legs apart, slotting himself between them as he leaned over to kiss you once more. You gasped at his sudden manhandling, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, drinking up every little noise that fell from your lips.
His hand slid up your back and into your hair, pulling you away for the briefest moment. He could feel every nerve standing on end when you tried leaning back in to kiss him again, desperate to feel his lips on yours. Still, he held you back by your hair, groaning at the little whine you let out. The tip of his nose just barely ran up your throat as he breathed in and inhaled the raw scent of your need. 
“Why couldn’t you just fucking move, huh?” 
He growled out his question, mostly to himself. There’s a tiny voice — caution, loyalty — nagging at him to stop. That making out with his best friend’s girlfriend was wrong. That thinking of all the ways he was going to bring you to the edge of ecstasy was immoral. But Steve’s eyes were glued to your every movement, to the way your back arched and how your hands clutched onto his white t-shirt. And he can’t stop. Steve was the Nathan to your Rebecca. He had to have you.
Still, you silently contemplate the question as well. Why didn’t you move? What about him was so infectious, so undeniable that you needed him to touch you, if only to know what it’s like? He licked and sucked at your throat. His rough hands gripped at your outer thigh, pulling them close to his hip. Every movement was so sure, so certain. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it — the thought made you squirm beneath. 
The shameful thought that crosses your mind breaks your heart: Bucky never touched me like this. She should be mortified, embarrassed. 
Instead, her hips buck into Steve’s.
“Thought about this for so long.” He murmured against the sensitive skin of your neck. He bit down, making you cry out, before soothing the spot with his tongue. “Dreamt of doing the filthiest things to you. And then last night, all those fucking noises.”
You tried to hide your burning face by covering yourself with your arms, but Steve was quick to pull them away. “That why you’re always such a brat? Never been put in your place?” He asked, his tone a bit condescending.
It’s shameful, the way your mind jumps to Bucky, to how he pampered and spoiled you, even in the bedroom. Even worse was the desperate mewl you let out at Steve’s tone, shaking your head.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Steve mumbled, pressing wet kisses down her body. Down, down, down, until he was kissing the waistband of your cute little cotton shorts that always drove him crazy. “We’ll fix that attitude right up.”
You counted yourself lucky that you lifted your hips in time for him to yank your shorts and panties down in one swift yank. You were sure that he wouldn’t have hesitated to tear them off of you. There was no time for you to feel bashful or shy about bearing yourself to Steve — as soon as the soft fabric left your skin, his hands were pushing at the back of your knees, up and out, so he could get an eyeful of your glistening pussy.
“Fuck.” He was entranced, mouth falling open as he pushed his index finger past your lips, through your juices. “All this for me, pretty girl?”
“Mhmm.” You hummed as your eyes fluttered closed.
“Use your words.” His eyes caught yours as his finger just barely brushed your swelling clit, and you knew it wasn’t an instruction. It was a warning.
You bit back the urge to say something snarky as you normally would, knowing that he wouldn’t hesitate to deny you what you wanted. “‘S for you. It’s all for you.” You moaned softly.
Steve could see the reluctance in your eyes and chuckled to himself. He was going to enjoy this. Maybe that was why he was so attracted to you. Because you were such a smartass, a brat. He liked that you fought him, taunted him, teased him. That meant that there and then, with you squirming below him as he licks through your dripping cunt, tonguing at your clit, he could break you down.
He saw right through that tough, bossy girl facade. He was going to tear you down, destroy you, then build you up again. Even if he never got to touch you again, he wasn’t going to let you forget that he could reduce you to a quivering, moaning mess.
A dream come to life is the only thing to describe it. Steve buried his face in your cunt like it was oxygen and he, a suffocating man. His stubble stung deliciously as his tongue flicked back and forth over your clit. Then, when your moans and whimpers became more frequent, more high-pitched, he’d back off — drag his tongue down to your opening to drink up the juices he’d pulled from you so effortlessly. Even when you buried your fingers in his hair, trying to pull his tongue back to your clit, desperate to come, he just pinned your hands down by your hips, continuing to lick, suck, and tease.
“You don’t come until I say so.” He mumbled into your pussy, his beard drenched in you. “Now, keep these legs open, pretty baby.”
When his tongue returned to your soaking core, you swore you were going to explode. The pleasure was almost torturous, twisting in the depths of your belly like it wanted to rip you apart from the inside out. Instinctively, your thighs started to tighten around Steve’s head, and he let out a moan against your swollen pussy lips. The vibrations almost overtook you, but he pulled away before you could fall into bliss, letting go of your wrists to smack you hard on your inner thighs. “What did I just say?” He said, his gaze dark as he stared at you.
“Can’t help it.” You admitted softly, a whimper escaping your lips when one of his strong hands stuck between the valley of your breasts and up to your neck. “Need it so bad.”
“Do you? ‘Cause you haven’t even asked me nicely. You can’t want it that badly.” He feigned sympathy for you as he crawled back up your body, lips brushing against yours as he spoke.
“I wanna come.” You whined, brow furrowed in desperation.
“You should’ve thought about that when you were being a smartass.”
Before you could complain, he tugged you up by his grip on your neck, pulling at your limbs until you were sitting on his lap. Your mind took a minute to catch up to Steve’s manhandling, but he regained your attention when he pulled his t-shirt off. Your eyes trailed over his torso, over the thick muscle and strong pecs that you suddenly had an overwhelming desire to squeeze.
He snapped his fingers, “Hey, eyes up here.” You almost feel embarrassed by how quickly you followed his instructions, just barely shrinking under his smug gaze. “If you want to come, you have to work for it. Earn it.”
At first, you weren’t sure what he meant. Hadn’t you earned it by now, you thought. Lying there with his tongue pushing in and out of her cunt, his lips sucking on your clit, without being allowed to come seemed like torture enough. But when he shifted his hips beneath you, pressing his clothed dick into your puffy folds, you gathered his intentions.
You moved your hips forward once, experimenting with the feeling. And when you let out a much louder moan than you anticipated, you suddenly understood how far he’s willing to go. The soft fabric of his sweatpants brushed across your already sensitive pussy, leaving the faintest tinge of a burn on your skin. You could feel the heat of him, feel him twitch beneath you as you ground your hips desperately against him.
All the while, Steve looked on with a smirk. He could practically feel the reluctance evaporating from your body. He saw the way your shoulders drooped, the way your head lolled and your eyes almost rolled back in your head. He kept careful watch of you, listening as your moans got more desperate, even bracing your hands on his shoulders to grind down harder. But he stopped you, slowed your pace, leaving you dangling off that edge with a whine. 
In response, he let out a smug chuckle. “Did you think it’d be that easy? You’re not getting anything until you beg.”
Beg? You hadn’t begged for anything in your life. Not with your parents, not with any of your exes, and certainly not with Bucky. That was where you drew the line. You just wanted him to give you what you wanted. Without thinking, your hands drifted down his torso, reaching for his waistband. You hoped that maybe if you could touch his cock, just once, he’d give in and fuck you.
Before your hands could reach their destination, he snatched up your wrists in one hand. He tugged you forward so that your pussy was pressed firmly against his shaft beneath his pants. His eyes bored into yours, and you suddenly wondered when he became this intimidating.
“That might work on your little boyfriend, but it won’t work on me.” He gritted out. “You’ve got one more chance before I lose my patience.”
Steve should have felt guilty for saying that. He should have paused and stopped what he was doing. But he didn’t. Objectively, it was wrong, but his dick twitched in his pants nonetheless. Nothing was going to stop him short of your saying no. He was going to utterly ruin you for other men — including Bucky.
You’d truly underestimated just how long he was willing to edge you. He kept the same routine each time. You ground your pussy on his clothed cock until there was a large wet patch on his crotch, a mixture he was certain was mostly you with a bit of him. He’d wait longer and longer each time, letting you get closer and closer but never letting you fall over into your orgasm. You lost track after the fifth time.
Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were wound so tight that you were sure you would explode from the tiniest touch, if only he’d let you. Steve even added on to the heat coursing through your body, cooing meanly at the desperate tears building in your eyes. At last, you whimpered the word that he’d been waiting to hear, “Please.”
Steve’s brow perked up, “Speak up, pretty baby. Can’t hear you when you mumble like that.”
“Please.” You’re louder this time, clearer, tension rolling off your back as you succumbed to him. “Please, I need to come.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re asking.” He teased.
“Please, can I? Can I please come?” It was then that you finally let go of all defiance, giving in to Steve. You didn’t want to be a smartass. You didn’t want to be a brat or make him angry, like you usually did. Then and there, all you wanted to do was let him make you come. A tear fell down your cheek as you begged, and he cupped your cheek, brushing it away with his thumb.
“There she is. All obedient and compliant. Just needed someone to fix that attitude, huh?”
He smirks at the way you nodded wantonly, loving how absolutely wrecked you looked. Now that you’d finally given in, he’d give you what you wanted. He was a man of his word, after all.
He pulled you off of his lap to which you’d closed your eyes and let out a whine, “You said—“
“I know what I said, pretty baby. I’m gonna make you come, don’t worry. Gonna make you cum till you’re begging me to stop.” He told her, bending her over the arm of the couch. Suddenly, his hand was in your hair tugging your head up. Your back arched as he leaned over you, his lips against your ear. “He could walk in any minute now.”
Your eyes shot open as you realized he had you facing the front door. Neither of you knew when Bucky would be home. Stop him, a voice called from the back of your mind. Don’t go any further. Don’t do this. Then, you felt the head of Steve’s bare cock pushing through your folds, your juices leaking onto his shaft.
“And you’re still gonna let me fill this tight pussy up, aren’t you?” You could hear his hand slide over his cock, spreading your wetness over the shaft.
Filthy. Wrong. Immoral.
“Yes.” You sighed out prettily.
Stop. Degenerate. Selfish.
“Let me hear you say it, pretty girl.” His tip nudged at your entrance.
Bad. Depraved. Shameless.
“I want you to fuck me.” 
Too late.
His cock stretched you wide, pulsing steadily as he pushed deeper inside, letting out a long moan. He used his knee to spread your legs wider, and the tip knocked into your G-spot. Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm built quicker than expected. Pleas began to fall from your lips without hesitation. “Can I come, Steve? I can’t hold it — please say yes!”
“Go ahead, pretty baby. Come on my cock.”
Like his voice controlled your body, your cunt fluttered around him. You let out a loud moan, crying out his name. If you had your wits about you, you might’ve been worried about the neighbors hearing. But you could barely hear your own voice, ears ringing as your body quivered. The pleasure crawled up your spine, exciting every nerve along the way. Had it not been for Steve’s hand in your hair holding up upright, you’re sure you would’ve collapsed.
“Shit.” Steve let out a groan and leaned back a bit, his hands pulling your ass apart to get a better view of your twitching pussy drooling all over the length of him. “Better than I fucking imagined.”
There was no chance to gather your bearings before he started thrusting into you, deep and slow. He was reaching so deep inside you, punching places with his cock that you didn’t know existed. All you could do was take it, your pussy gripping him like a vice.
“This what you wanted all this time?” He leaned over your body to mumble in your ear. “Haven’t been properly fucked in so long, have you?”
Your cheeks burned at how easily Steve was able to see through you. You only responded with a loud whine as he bit down lightly on your earlobe.
“Been reading those dirty little stories to get your fix. Me and Mr. Fucking Jones, hm?” He let out a teasing chuckle. “You won’t need those books anymore, pretty baby, I got you.”
The knot in your stomach was wound so tight, you could already feel the ache in your core. You were shocked, stunned that you could feel so sensitive after only coming once. But that was exactly what he wanted — overstimulated from the start. When his cock started passing over your G-spot with every thrust, you reached a hand back, pressing it weakly against his hips. “‘S too much!” You moaned, twisting your neck to look at him with wide, pleading eyes.
“Uh-uh, this is what you were begging for, baby. You can take it, c’mon.” He pulled your hand behind your back, using his grip on you as leverage for his thrusts. A deep groan vibrated through his chest when your cunt squeezed around him, your ass bouncing off his thighs. “That’s it, you can do it. Tell me you can take my dick.”
You keened at his praise, whimpering as his tip pounded into that spongy spot inside you, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. “I c-can!”
“You can what, honey?”
“I can take it!” You moaned, fingers clutching onto the fabric of the couch. “Oh my god, please don’t stop!”
“Good girl.” He pressed harder on the hand behind your back, watching your spine curve in a deeper arch. “So fucking pretty. Gonna come again for me?”
You couldn’t even manage to hold it back. Just hearing the words good girl sent you into a spiral, pussy spasming uncontrollably as your thighs shook. Cloud nine didn't even begin to describe the euphoria that washed over you. Each wave was stronger than the next, and Steve’s nonstop assault on your G-spot didn’t help. You vaguely heard him talking you through it — aw, that feel too good, pretty girl? that’s right, keep squeezing my cock, fuck you’re so wet — as you pushed your hips back, meeting him thrust for thrust.
“So fucking tight.” He gritted out, punctuating each word with one hard thrust of his cock. You felt his cock twitch inside you, and he let out the smallest growl. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”
“Want it.” You moaned, body jolting with each thrust. “Want you.”
Suddenly, his arm was around your neck, pulling you up so his chest was pressed against your back. “This is my pussy now, baby.” He panted, his breath hot in your ear. His blood was pumping too fast, too hard for him to feel bad about what he said. “Day and night, you’re fucking mine, you got that?”
Your eyes were glued on the front door, even as his words made your pussy flutter. The tiniest shred of remorse seized your heart, and you shook your head, hands gripping his forearm around your neck. A few tears spilled down your cheeks, a pitiful mix of guilt and desperation. “No.” You whimpered as your eyes fluttered closed. “No, I c-can’t. What about—“
“Don’t lie to me.” He growled, watching your body shiver when he pressed two fingers hard on your clit. “You might feel bad — Hell, I might, too. You’ll kiss him, you’ll sleep next to him, you might even love him. But this cunt? She’ll fucking drool at the thought of my cock, won’t she?”
You didn’t answer. You both knew the answer, only confirmed by how your cunt pulsed around him. He rubbed your clit in tight, fast little circles, wanting to hear you admit it. “Won’t she?”
You squealed, the oversensitivity taken to a new level as the pain and pleasure attempted to rip you apart from the inside out. You whimpered and nodded — too late for shame, for modesty.
“Say it, baby. Say it like a good girl.”
“I’m… I’m yours.”
His cock twitched inside you again, bringing you closer to your orgasm. His arm pressed your throat, only slightly cutting off your air. You were lightheaded in the best way, feeling the pleasure creep up on you as Steve groaned in your ear. He told you to say it again, and you did. You kept saying it, kept telling Steve that you were his, that your pussy was his, until you could barely think of anything else. Even as his thrusts started to get sloppy, you moaned Steve’s name, feeling the start of your orgasm take over.
“That’s it, pretty girl, milk my cock dry. Take all my fucking come.”
Even still, under all the noise — the slapping of skin against skin, the squelch of your pussy as his cock drove in and out of you, your moans, his filthy words — you heard the click of a lock.
Your eyes only caught his for a brief moment before the pleasure crashed over you, before Steve turned your head and pressed his lips against yours, groaning as he felt you shake and come undone beneath him. All teeth and tongue, you whimpered into the kiss as you felt spurt after spurt of warm come fill you up. He thrusted hard and deep, pushing his cock further inside you until the come seeped back out, dripping down your thighs. As his tongue glided across yours, he knew he never came harder in his life. And, perhaps, unfortunately, neither had you.
You were panting into each other’s mouths, riding out your highs, when his voice called out your name, then Steve’s, quiet and hurt. His best friend. Your boyfriend. Your Bucky.
Fuck.
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love-hatred-stuff · 10 months
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He sits there and watches. Looks at you and feels like he's admiring someone people would call a goddess. Someone men would fight and die for. Because that's what he would do for you. All those feelings and you had not a single clue.
Not that Bucky wouldn't come up to you and tell you how he feels. But he knew he couldn't, and he hated the reason for that more than anything else in his life.
It was you. It wasn't you that he hated, no, it was the fact that you hated him. And we aren't talking about the hate where you yell at people and cuss at them. It's the kind of hate where you ignore the person you despise because you just can't handle being near them even if you can't pinpoint exactly what pisses you off about them.
If someone had asked you, you wouldn't necessarily say that you hated Bucky Barnes. If you were asked what you think of him you would shrug and say "he's just not very approachable or friendly looking". He rather looks like his ultimate life goal is hooking up with as much woman as possible. You'd keep that part to yourself, say you're not interested in befriending him and start a better topic to talk about. Because there were plenty, you thought.
And it wasn't like you had no reason to think of him like that, he knows that, he's just not quite sure if it's something he did to you that he doesn't remember or if it's his reputation as the college f*ckboy.
But it didn't matter. Bucky had probably not the slightest chance of ever winning you over, as much as he wished he did.
So he continued to watch you from afar, trying to be subtle about it.
"Dude, are you even listening?" One of his friends shoved his shoulder, trying to get his attention.
Bucky was pulled out of his mind, which was, per usual, occupied with daydreams about you.
"You know, you should go talk to y/n. She's not only like one of the hottest girls on campus, she's also really nice. You two know each other, right?" His friend attempted.
Bucky sighed. "I know her, but she doesn't wanna know me. I should respect that. Whatever reason she might have." He answered in a low tone, exhausted from training the whole week and also not getting to talk to you, which bothers him more than anyone would know.
To his luck. After that, his team and your friend group only became closer through the months and practically spend every weekend with each other. Bucky though, had still zero chances to get you to genuinely listen to him rather than showing all those signs that you were more interested in every one else than him.
It made his chest ache, witnessing the way you had built a wall to protect yourself from him. Not once would he catch you glancing at him, not even out of decency. He figured he must look really unfriendly for you to treat him like that. But he couldn't blame you. He'd done a lot of things in his life that he wasn't proud of.
•••
Pls tell me if I should continue writing this or not and if you like it! I need some motivation :)
Love,
love-hatred-stuff
Here you go ;)
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buckybabieboy · 2 years
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can u do some sub+little!bucky barnes headcannons? maybe some when he’s little and he wants cuddles, or some nsfw :)
Ofc babie🥹.
SUBBY+LITTLE! BUCKY BARNES HEADCANNONS ☁️
📝A/N: No hate towards littles will be tolerated. Pls let me know if you want a full fic/blurb about any of these! :)
⚠️Warnings: sub!bucky, little!bucky, little space, sub space, lactation kink, SFW first, NSFW later on, overstimulation, mommy/mama kink.
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SFW☁️(just Bucky being adorable for you)
• You always knew that Bucky was a very shy little thing, and you never minded the way he was so clingy around you. other people might have found it weird but you didn’t care.💖
• Bucky’s therapist also noticed how vulnerable and small he got around you, and said that his age regression was the reason he was making such great progress.
• Loves it when you call him pretty. Or when you tell him he’s a good boy. He’s gone through so much and just needs you to take care of him.
• He may be 6ft tall but loves to sit on your lap, especially when your watching tv at the apartment. he loves when you’re the big spoon, it makes him feel safe and secure. like nothing could hurt him if he’s in his mommy’s arms.
• After he has a nightmare, the only thing he wants is for you to hold him and tell him it’s okay. He absolutely hates those nightmares and so do you, but when you hold him and sing him to sleep he begins to feel okay again. (For full fic click here <3)
• Bucky definitely has puppy tendencies. He will wait by the door for you when you’re out doing something, or will try to busy himself doing something else.
• He’ll literally whimper and yelp as he watches you get in the car from the window. like a cute little puppy😭.
• Absolutely CANNOT be away from you for too long. He loves it when all of your attention is on him. Such a needy boy🥺.
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• If you’re doing any computer work or anything that might seem important he’ll leave you alone for a little while. He’ll busy himself watching cartoons, but anything over an hour he starts getting all whiny and needy for his mommy. Just wants to suck on her and cuddle.
^^“mama!” Bucky whines, tugging on your shirt sleeve with his flesh hand. You ignored him, but not on purpose. You were still caught up with your work on the computer.
“mommy!” He repeats, as if changing the name would make you pay attention. When you don’t look up, he scrambles on the bed and into your lap, trying to shove the computer off your lap and replace it with himself.
“Bucky, I’m doing important stuff here. can you wait a little while for mommy?” You say as you push him slightly which signals him to get off you.
Bucky pouts and nods, turning his head back to the TV. When your finally shut your computer off, Bucky falls into you, snuggling you tightly. You hear him sniffling as his balled fists wipe his tears away.
“awh, you okay baby? you feelin subby?” You coo at him. He nods and tugs on your shirt, lifting it up so he can latch on to you. You nudge him off a little bit so you can take off your shirt, and Bucky sobs at the loss of contact.
“shh, it’s okay baby. just getting you more comfortable.” You reassure him. He immediately latches into your left boob and begins to suck. His tounge lolls out slightly, and you kiss him on the forehead softly as he drifts away to sleep.
NSFW⚠️
• Bucky is VOCAL!! He is such a whiny baby for you and he’s 100% sure no one else could make him feel that way.
• Since he hasn’t had a girlfriend in over 70 yrs (correct me if I’m wrong), he was very insecure about his first time with you.
• Loves blowjobs from you. the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock is enough to make him cum alone, no movement needed.
• And if you offer to tittyfuck him? omfg he’s dying. he lovesssss your boobies.
• He loves when you let him feed on them while you stroke his cock. this makes him feel very safe while you touch him in a place that’s so sacred🥺.
• Loves to eat you out!! he literally looses himself in you, and loves to see the reaction you give him when he makes you cum. he could devour you for hours.
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• overstimulation was way too overwhelming for him at first, couldn’t stop crying the first time and needed to use his safe word🥺. *lots of aftercare took place ofc!!*
• but now, it drives him wild and he LOVES it. Especially when you ride him and overstimulate him, it gives him nowhere to go or run. He’s stuck under you until you say otherwise.
^^ “nngh! c-can’t,mama its so much!” bucky cries, his metal hand gripping the sheets while the flesh one stays gripping your hip. You flash a wide grin as you watch the tears fall from those adorable blue eyes of his.
“awh, it’s too much f’you?” You fake pout as you slowly start to bounce on his cock again. He nods his head as a broken sob leaves his plush lips.
“one more, baby. I know you can do it. can you be a good boy and give mommy one more?”
Bucky looks up at you, down, and up at you again before slightly nodding his head yes. His tears fall rapidly as you pick up the pace.
“good boy, Bucky.” You praise, and he only gets louder and whiner as you continue to bounce on his twitching cock.
“hurts, mama..” Bucky sobs, his legs spasm under you and his back arches. You coo at him as you keep going, knowing that if he really wanted you to stop he’d use his safe word.
“fuck, cum-cumming! I’m cumming, mommy!”
Bucky literally shakes under you, gasping for air as he cums for the 4th time tonight.
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abrthephantomq · 26 days
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Soooo....
Turnabout Storyteller.
I had already vaguely known about Uendo having DID due to me not necessarily avoiding spoilers when reading fanfic, but...
I have so many thoughts on this as someone who HAS the disorder they're representing here.
Like, one, I definitely appreciated the way they revealed it -- during a Mood Matrix session. Having multiple sets of feelings and having them switch on and off like that is def a thing. I've/we've experienced that before.
But also -- before that, when Uendo was switching between his "characters" and everyone thought he was just putting on a performance? Yeah, see. They did that really well considering that like -- yes, the way alters hold the body/the face can be really different. They certainly felt like different people, which was really cool to see. I liked the different poses they had because as I played I was like, "Huh... is he the character with DID...? He is, right?"
The thing is, I'm like 80% certain that Uendo is the murderer, and THAT annoys me -- but I'm not done playing through the case, yet. I just started the second half of the trial, so.... I'll comment as I go.
But if I'm right and Uendo IS the murderer, I'm gonna have to roll my eyes because soooo many pieces of media use my disorder to show HEY SOMEONE WITH THIS COULD BE A KILLER AND NOT KNOWWWWW and I hate that. Because like.... no.
OH THANK GOD. Like 3 seconds into the send half of the trial and it's NOT Uendo. Yay. Yayyyyy. I'm actually really glad they did that subversion of the person-with-DID-is-the-killer trope. Thank fucking GOD.
SIMON GRABBING ATHENA when she starts to doubt she can prove Bucky's innocence is just -- fuck. Okay. Yeah, I see why the fandom loves that particular moment. (I love Simon so much omfg).
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I am honestly loving this case and I actually really like the way they've presented Uendo -- it's simplified a bit for the sake of the audience, but at the same time, switching DO be like that. And you can certainly be co-conscious and share memory.
Like.... that's legitimately how our System works -- there's usually 2-3 of us up front at any given time, with someone generally more forward, while the other(s) listens / watches. Sometimes others push to the front. And there are 4 of us who more or less have access to the continual life happenings even if we don't always recollect specific details (or what we were feeling) later.
Also Owen being a LITTLE makes so much damn sense? Fuck, idk man, I love it. I kinda adore them.
I really really really got weary when Uendo's diagnosis was revealed because, y'know, the whole oh God pls tell me you're not the murderer even if it was kinda looking like you were.
That fucking balloon girl did it, didn't she? Jesus fucking Christ. I love that, but I also hate that. Also it's so unfair they made this chick so goddamned pretty.
Also man can I also say just how like.... they legitimately refer to Owen as a child, and Kisegawa with Ms., and -- that's actually a nice little piece of the writing here. Like... is it absolutely perfect? No. It's not. But let me tell you -- as someone with this disorder? Writing it and showing it for an audience is hard.
That whole, "everyone is unique" thing applies here -- every System is different. They all develop ways of functioning in order to blend in and protect themselves. Uendo may not have the denial bit that comes with this disorder (do you know how many times I find myself asking if I'm sure I'm not faking this thing? do you??? because like, it's a "rare" disorder, right? and was my trauma REALLY bad enough for me to have alters???? etc) -- but considering the confident way he, Patches, and Kisegawa speak about their experience with the disorder, I would imagine they've been in therapy for it for a while, now.
But also -- the three of them not being aware of Owen? Or denying his existence, at least? Well, they were either protecting him because he's so young, or they legitimately did not know since apparently he may only come forward when the body is drunk.
idk I love that Uendo et al was not the killer. Like so much. Thank FUCK.
Also that was a really fun case even if it was like, not entirely relevant to the overall story happening here in SOJ. I definitely enjoyed it.
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theblondebondd · 3 months
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i think it's a shame that the general consensus abt sharon fans disliking peggy is that we don't like her because she was with steve. that's really not the case.
peggy's relationship ( or non relationship depending on what comics you're reading ) with steve is important to sharon as a character and steve ( again, the latter depending on what books you're reading ) and their dynamic as well, and we have no reason to outwardly dislike it, because it's been the thing since the beginning. i won't deny that a lot of mcu shippers ( steve and bucky shippers especially ) do hate her and use " liking " sharon as an excuse to do so, but we as two fandoms need to team up against a common enemy on that front, not let them turn us against each other even more lmao
there's a lot of complex reasons that sharon fans dislike peggy ( separate reasons for mcu and comics ) and the biggest one comes from the actress's treatment of the characters and their relationship together, but none of them are peggy being with steve. hating the endgame ending ≠ hating peggy because of it. again, we're not steve & bucky fans. common enemy. pls.
i think every character has flaws, some more apparent, some in aus, and some that some people wouldn't view as flaws. not liking characters because of that isn't a problem unless you're using those reasons to be misogynistic / racist / etc, or just overall being a hypocrite. it's why sharon fans don't mind people not liking sharon, we don't like how some people talk about her when they don't like her.
i might be on my own here, but i don't think i am. there's a big difference between disliking a character for legitimate reasons, and constantly being hypocritical / gross / rude about said character just to antagonize people. like, sharon has plenty of character traits that i totally understand why people don't like her over ( in comics, mcu sharon doesnt really have a personality to like or dislike lmao ). just like peggy has a lot of traits i understand why people like her for ( in mcu & comics ) they're just not traits i like and that's okay.
one day ill compile a list of reasons why people ( especially sharon fans ) don't love peggy, and im sure it won't be the thing that just magically convinces people we don't just " hate her because she dated steve " but i would hope it explains actual reasons that show we aren't just. stupid hypocrites.
tldr :
it's come to my attention that a lot of peggy fans think sharon fans don't like her because she's with steve which, in my experience of interacting with sharon fans, isn't the case, and it makes me sad that that's the general idea. i think people should be allowed to like and dislike whatever characters they want, for legitimate reasons or not, so long as they aren't being rude or gross about it. and if you are a sharon fan who openly antagonizes other fans over the same shit we were antagonized over, then my message to you is to cut it out. it's about to be 2024, nobody needs that negativity over fictional characters 🫶
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babymarvelbunny · 8 months
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Threads of Redemption Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Summary: In the aftermath of the Sokovia Accords and the dissolution of the Avengers, Bucky finds himself still haunted by his past as the winter soldier. He remains on the run, torn between the desire to redeem himself and the fear of hurting others. YN is a skilled S.H.I.E.L.D. agent tasked with locating Bucky and bringing him back to the Avengers compound.
Warnings: none?? I think??
Word Count: 976
A/N: I swear I have so many fics locked and loaded and I just never post them. pls forgive me. I swear I'll upload the next part ASAP, kinda proofread but not really.
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As you walked down the hallway towards Steve's office you knew that you were about to be sent on a mission. You were more than excited to finally get back out into the field as it had been weeks since.. the incident. It wasn't your fault that someone had decided to plant a bomb in the exact same spot you had decided to walk. Knocking on Steve's door you heard him mumble something under his breath along the lines of "come in". Walking into his office you noticed how Steve was clearly distracted by something on his computer.
"Hey Cap, what's up?" You didn't want to make it too obvious that you were excited to go on a mission as you could tell that something was troubling Steve. He looked up from his computer and sighed.
"I need you to do me a favor, off the record." Steve looked you in the eyes as he spoke in a hushed tone. okay, now you're worried.
"Okay... what's going on." You could tell that he didn't exactly know how to express what he was feeling at that moment.
"I have a mission for you, and I need you to do it alone. I don't trust anyone to get it done other than you. I know that your skills will come in handy." Steve never really liked sending people on missions alone so you knew this was serious.
"Listen Cap you know I'll do anything for you, you're like my big brother, tell me what's going on." You hated that he was struggling to get the words out. Steve sat up in his chair and leaned over his desk to get closer to you. You sat forward and waited for him to tell you what was bothering him.
"It's Bucky, I got a tip from an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D agent that he was spotted in a small town just north of Vancouver, I need you to go and get him, please." Steve looked you in the eyes as he spoke, you knew he was worried about Bucky.
"Steve, I don't know... I'm not so sure it's such a good idea to send me... I don't have any sort of powers... I haven't taken the super soldier serum like you have, I stand absolutely zero chance of bringing him in." You weren't sure why Steve would choose you to bring in Bucky when he could ask Nat, she's way more capable of winning him over than you.
"I can't ask anyone else, after the Accords the Avengers are being watched, I need you to do it, you're the next best thing, you have the highest success rate on missions and you're fast so you can keep up with him." Steve was practically begging you at this point, how could you say no.
"Thanks for the confidence boost but I wouldn't say I'm nearly as fast as Bucky, but I'll try..." you could tell that Steve was relieved.
"Thank you Y/N... I mean it, this means the world to me, I'd go myself if I could. I booked you a flight tonight at 11pm, you'll pack a small bag, carry-on size, then you'll land in Vancouver and there will be a bag in one of the bathroom stalls for you. Inside the bag will be a burner phone and two sets of keys, one will be a car key, the other a key for a safe house in Vancouver. The phone will have my number on it so that we can keep in contact while you're there." Steve was rushing to get all the information out as he scrambled to try and find something on his desk.
"Once I do find him... how do you expect me to convince him to come back here with me, if he wouldn't come back for you, his best friend. Why would he come back for me? I mean I've never even met him." You were seriously starting to doubt his plan.
"Just trust me, I'll explain more once you land in Vancouver." Steve finally found what he was looking for on his desk and he handed you a plane ticket. "Don't overthink it, please."
"Okay... I promise I'll do everything I can to bring him back here." You looked down at the plane ticket and decided that no matter what you wanted to do this for Steve.
"Thank you Y/N, now go pack, something light don't forget, don't worry about weapons I have the car packed with everything you'll need. Just pack clothes and such." You took Steve's words as him dismissing you, and you got up to leave.
Heading back toward your room you had thoughts of doubt running through your head. You were by far the most skilled S.H.I.E.L.D. agent but that doesn't mean you can go around fighting super soldiers. Once you arrived back at your room you packed a small bag filled with your daily essentials. once packed you looked at your watch and realized it was 8pm and that you should probably head out now. Heading for the elevator you bumped into Peter.
"Hey! Where are you heading? Going on a trip? fun, I never get to go on any trips, or are you going on a mission? can I come?" Pete was talking a mile a minute as he looked up at you with wide hopeful eyes.
"Not this time Pete, I'm just going on a little trip, I'll be back in a few days." You tried really hard to not look at his puppy dog eyes.
"Aw, okay. Well, have fun!" Peter looked sad for all of 3 seconds before he ran off down the hall.
As the elevator doors opened you stepped in and looked back at your reflection in the doors. 'This should be fun' you thought to yourself.
To Be Continued...
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beefromanoff · 2 months
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Going Under Ch. 29
summary: christmas. online comments. an emotional spiral. angst. new years. missions. heartbreak.
characters: Bucky Barnes x OC
soundtrack: exile - Taylor Swift and Bon Iver
warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.
author’s note: GUYS PUT DOWN THE PITCHFORKS PLS, first of all, so sorry it's been a million years! the holidays and my birthday and vacation and everything has just kept me too busy. i've tried to alternate between my other story (linked here) and this one, but I still hate that it's been so long. also, I know this story is a lot of your comfort fic, so I'M SORRY for the angst and heartache! just stick with me pleaseeee!
ilysm, thank you for reading! please let me know what you think!
chapter list
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The city lights glittered outside the panoramic windows of the penthouse, casting a soft glow over the sleek, modern furnishings. A fire blazing in the center of the living room illuminated Gianna’s gaunt face. The past month had taken the youthful roundness from her face and the twinkle from her eyes. Bringing her knees to her chest, she took a slow sip of her wine as she stared out the window at the New York night. Across the horizon, a sharp knife to her heart, glowed the trademark ‘A’ of Avengers’ Tower. 
The infamous building, once filled with laughter and shared moments, sat dark and empty. Gianna gazed through the floor-to-ceiling glass, her reflection staring back at her—a portrait of a woman who had lost something irreplaceable.
Her thoughts were a hurricane, a montage of memories that wrecked her mind and haunted the solitude of the room. The past months had unraveled like a thread, leaving behind a tapestry of emotions that she struggled to make sense of. The laughter from Thanksgiving with the Avengers echoed in her mind, but now it seemed like a distant melody she no longer knew how to play.
She spun the stem of the wine glass in her fingers, ignoring the blue glow of the phone on her coffee table. Texts, calls, social media alerts…nothing she cared to check. She knew what they’d say, all variations of the same headlines that had been running for weeks. 
Pop Star and Winter Soldier call it quits after whirlwind romance!
Gianna Cruz spotted on solo coffee run in Manhattan!
Who Made Gianna Cruz Cry?! Pop Star Spotted with Red Eyes Amid Split with Famed Assassin.
As bad as the tabloids were, nothing wrecked her like the truth that played on a loop in her mind.
---
Early December, New York
The glow of holiday lights adorned the city streets as Bucky and Gianna strolled through Central Park. Snowflakes danced around them, and the air buzzed with the energy of the season. 
They paused under a streetlamp, his eyes meeting hers. "You know, you're too good for someone like me," he confessed, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze.
Gianna chuckled, playfully nudging him. "Oh hush. You’re the first guy to ever think he doesn’t deserve me, and it’s one of the many reasons I’m certain you do."
Bucky's laugh echoed through the crisp winter night as he held Gianna’s hand in his own.
��If you say so.” 
---
Early December, Upstate New York - Avengers’ Compound
The soft glow of the evening sun streamed into Bucky's room as he idly scrolled through social media. His fingers danced over the screen, swiping through images and updates. A photo caught his eye—himself and Gianna, smiling, carefree, fingers woven together as they crossed a street in the city.
The initial wave of warmth quickly gave way to a sinking feeling as he caught a glimpse of the comment section. Many were positive, gushing about how good they looked together, how happy they seemed. Bucky couldn't help but smile at those.
However, as he scrolled further, the tone shifted. Harsh words leapt off the screen, cutting through him like a knife. They weren't strangers to him—the names, the insults—all a reminder of the Winter Soldier's haunted past that some couldn't let go. Comment after comment confirmed his darkest fears, the things his mind taunted him with late at night.
"Can't believe she's with a killer."
“Of everyone she could date, she chooses him? A freak of nature with blood on his hands?” 
“I hope he knows he’s ruining her life. He should be with a monster like himself, not someone innocent like Gianna. I hate this relationship.” 
“Does she even know everything he’s done? I can’t support her after she knowingly dates a murderer.”
"She deserves better."
The words became a relentless cascade, a torrent of doubts and insecurities that he had fought so hard to suppress. The shadows of his past seemed to stretch and loom, threatening the fragile happiness he had found with Gianna. He felt guilty, shameful, stupid for ever thinking he could escape them, thinking he could find some semblance of peace. 
Gianna's voice interrupted his thoughts as she cracked open the door to his room, a soft and cheerful invitation to join the team for dinner. A part of him wanted to tell her about the comments, to seek reassurance in her presence, but a darker instinct held him back. The shame was too great. Something nagged at him, told him maybe they were right. Their relationship was a fluke. Maybe she didn’t realize what she’d gotten herself into. Fear crept into his mind, convincing him that if he put those thoughts into her mind, even seeking comfort from them, they’d take root and she’d wonder what the hell she was doing with him in the first place.
Forcing a smile, he silenced the turmoil in his mind and pocketed his phone, choosing not to burden her with the weight of his doubts.
“Let’s go eat,” He put a hand on her lower back and kissed her cheek, ignoring the nagging feeling that at some point soon, he would no longer be able to. 
---
Christmas Morning, Avengers’ Compound
The cozy warmth of Christmas evening found Earth’s Mightiest Heroes lounging by the fireplace in the overly decorated living room. Gift wrapping strewn everywhere, the smell of hot cocoa and spiked cider filling the air. In a mess of holiday sweaters and new presents, the team fell into a quiet but comfortable silence. This had been an over-the-top, Hallmark-esque Christmas season. Thanksgiving had been the crack in the stoic dam that they all previously kept in place, and now the full on family festivities were unleashed. 
Wanda and Gianna had baked so many Christmas goodies that Tony swore he wouldn’t even be able to wear the Iron Man suit. They’d arranged a team “Secret Santa” after insisting the guys couldn’t be trusted to buy a good gift for everyone on the team, so they limited it to one person each and repeatedly reminded Tony of the $200 limit. 
An absurd number of stockings hung from the mantle, cramped and hung nearly overlapping, but everyone had their own. Christmas music had played over the built-in speakers in their living quarters since the day they’d touched down after Thanksgiving. The most surprising part was that no one seemed to mind the excess holiday cheer. 
Now, as Christmas Day wound down, it had all culminated in a picturesque holiday.
As the festivities wound down, Bucky caught Gianna's eye, his expression softening with a secret.
"Come with me," he murmured, jerking his head towards the balcony.
Gianna followed him through the common room, away from the heart of the celebration. They slipped out onto the balcony, a quiet alcove overlooking the snowy landscape.
Bucky handed her a steaming mug of hot chocolate. "Merry Christmas," he said, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Merry Christmas," she replied. The night air was crisp, and the stars above shimmered in a vast, dark canvas. One of her favorite things about being away from the city.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a carefully wrapped gift. "I made something for you," he confessed.
“What? Bucky…” Curiosity turned into wide-eyed surprise as she unwrapped the present. Nestled within the paper was a beautifully bound book. On the cover, in elegant script, read the simple title MMXXIII -- or 2023. The year they met. 
Her fingers traced the cover, and when she opened it, she found a chronicle of their tour—all told from Bucky’s point of view. He had meticulously compiled entries from his journal, filled with his thoughts and feelings about her, paired with photos both snapped by fans or paparazzi and by Gianna herself. It made for a comprehensive timeline of him falling in love with her. 
Tears welled up in Gianna's eyes as she flipped through the pages. Bucky's writing, which she’d read before, but to have it gifted to her with all the photos and scrawled footnotes and thoughtfulness…she felt dangerously close to melting into a puddle on the ground.
"I remember the first time I saw you on stage," he recounted. "There was this light about you. It drew me in, and little did I know, it would change everything."
Gianna was speechless. Shaking her head, she looked up at him with watery eyes. “This is, undoubtedly, the best gift I have ever been given.” She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “James Buchanan Barnes. Thank you. I love you.”
His chest tightened. No matter how many times he’d heard those words come from her mouth or said them back to her, they never felt any less miraculous. 
“I love you too, G.” 
Giving a shy smile, she stood. “I have something for you, too. Be right back.” She darted through the doors. 
Returning swiftly with her guitar in hand, she plopped back down on the chair beside him. Her breath came out in steamy clouds against the cold air. Gazing up at him through her lashes, she began to strum.
“This one is called…My Hero.” 
As she played, her angelic voice echoing across the quiet night, Bucky felt his stomach twist. Sitting across from him was the most beautiful, kind woman he’d ever known. She told him she loved him. She slept beside him every night. Here she was on Christmas Day, singing a song about him. As her poetic words heralded him as her hero, he couldn’t help the guilt he felt reminding him that he would always be a villain.
---
New Years’ Eve, New York - Avengers’ Tower
The New Year's Eve party at the Avengers' Tower was a spectacle to behold. Tony Stark had outdone himself once again, transforming the common area into a sea of crystal champagne flutes and ice sculptures. The clinking of glasses and laughter filled the massive room. 
Sam had taken over bartending -- flipping bottles with flair while the actual paid bartender stood awkwardly to the side. Peter hung from the chandelier, showing off for a group of this years’ Sports Illustrated models. Steve and Nat, shared a quiet moment away from the dance floor, looking suspiciously comfortable together. Tony, to no one’s surprise, had been the life of the party. He bounced from the DJ booth to the dance floor to the bar, never being seen without a champagne bottle in hand. The atmosphere was infectious, a perfect ending to the year's highs and lows. 
Meanwhile, Gianna and Bucky had spent most of the evening cozied up on a plush couch toward the back of the room, taking it all in. Her laughter seemed to drown out the music and the crowd, Bucky's eyes glimmered with a softness that only her presence could invoke.
As the clock crept closer to midnight, the anticipation in the room grew. The sequin and glitter-clad Avengers had found their way together in the final moments of the year. 
Tony, ever the showman, took center stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, Avengers and friends, let's welcome the new year with a bang!"
The countdown echoed through the room, a chorus of voices rising in unison. Ten, nine, eight...He raised an arm, clad in one single sleeve of the Iron Man suit, and aimed it for the rafters.
Bang! Confetti rained down from where his shot hit as the clock struck midnight, and cheers erupted. Amidst the celebration, Bucky and Gianna only had eyes for each other as they pulled away from their first kiss of the new year, only feet from the barstools where their first ever kiss had been shared.
Gianna’s eyes were bright as she looked up at him, "I can't wait to spend this year with you."
Bucky, his smile carrying a mix of emotion, replied, "You're going to have an amazing year, G."
---
End of January
The Quinjet soared through the night sky, cutting through the clouds like a sleek shadow. Bucky, sitting in the co-pilot seat, stared out into the vast darkness. Steve glanced at his friend, sensing the tension in the air.
"Something's been eating at you, Buck," Steve finally broke the silence, his eyes focused on the controls. "You've been volunteering for every mission lately. More than usual. What's going on?"
Bucky hesitated, his gaze fixed on the city lights below. He was wrestling with a storm of conflicting emotions, unsure of how to voice them, even to his closest friend. Steve was persistent, his concern etched on his features.
"Bucky, we've been through too much for you to keep things from me," Steve urged gently. "Talk to me."
Bucky sighed, the internal struggle evident in his eyes. "It's Gianna."
Steve raised an eyebrow, silently inviting Bucky to continue.
"I can't shake this feeling, Steve," Bucky confessed, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Like I'm holding her back. Like I'm not good enough for her. I love her too much to see her stuck with someone like me."
Steve furrowed his brow, concern deepening. "Bucky, you've been through hell and back. She knows that, knows it wasn’t your fault, and she chose to be with you. You're not holding her back. You saved her life, remember?"
"But what if she deserves more? What if I can't give her the life she deserves?" Bucky's words carried the weight of his self-doubt. “She’ll always have to pay the price for my past. I want more for her than that.” 
Steve understood the root of Bucky's turmoil. He reached over, placing a reassuring hand on Bucky's shoulder. "You're not giving her enough credit, Buck. Talk to her. Share what you're feeling. She deserves to know. I’m sure if she had any idea you were feeling this way, she’d be devastated."
Bucky nodded, but his gaze drifted back out the window to the night sky. 
“Where did all this come from?” 
“I saw some comments online.” 
“Buck…” Steve sighed. “You can’t do that to yourself. None of us can go online without finding something day-ruining written about ourselves. It’s never good.” 
“At least you guys have saved more people than you’ve killed.” Bucky’s tone was gruff. 
“If we’re looking at deaths at our hands while under our own volition, I’ve got you beat by a long shot, pal. Hell, I bet even Pete’s got you.” He gave his friend a reassuring smile. 
“Yeah.” 
The conversation was interrupted by the Quinjet's navigation system signaling their arrival at the mission site.
"We'll continue this, Buck. But for now, focus on the mission. And don't do anything stupid until we can talk more.”
---
End of February
Sweat dripped from Bucky’s forehead as his fists pounded into the punching bag. 
The chains clinked as Bucky moved from the bag to the bench, his breathing heavy. The dim glow of the overhead lights cast deep shadows on his face, highlighting the lines etched by years of war and the burdens of a tortured past.
His inner dialogue was a relentless companion, the voice of doubt whispering in the hollows of his mind. 
She'd be happier without you. She could be back in New York, performing, living the life she deserves. She could find someone without your dark history. Someone she doesn’t have to defend.
The weights lifted and dropped with a controlled precision, the repetition an attempt to drown out the insistent thoughts. Bucky's jaw clenched, muscles straining against the heavy load. The gym became a battleground, his internal conflict manifesting in the physical exertion.
You're a relic of a bygone era, Buck. She deserves someone who can give her a future, not someone haunted by the ghosts of his past.
The voice echoed, each word a reminder of the perceived inadequacies he felt.
He moved back to the sparring area, still running from his own demons. The stark sounds of his combat training echoing in the empty space. The punches were precise, calculated, a dance of muscle memory and suppressed rage. His metal arm moved with deadly precision, nearly knocking the bag out of the ceiling with one blow.
Bucky paused, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat covering his body. His reflection in the gym's mirrored walls showed the anguish and exhaustion on his face. He spent more and more time in the training room as sleep continued to evade him. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but read more of the same comments that began this spiral in the first place. Subjecting himself to them felt like a fair punishment for everything he’d done, so he continued to scroll, hoping that facing the ugliness would somehow atone for his past. Instead, he found his guilt growing alongside the chasm between him and Gianna. 
The truth was, the weight of his past had woven itself into the fabric of his identity. He doubted if he could ever truly be what Gianna needed. He’d thrown himself into missions, avoiding time with her. When he looked at her face, saw her beautiful, earnest eyes…his heart cracked. He couldn’t stand to be with her and think of losing her. He couldn’t stand to be with her and stomach how much better she deserved. So he stayed away. 
He told himself she didn’t notice him sneaking out of bed every night after midnight, and maybe she didn’t at first. But as the weeks crept by, she felt him pulling away. When he came home between missions, he wasn’t fully there. She’d even asked Steve if something had triggered his PTSD, sending him back into a dark place. No matter what she tried, she couldn’t pull him back. Even when she initiated sex, he never seemed to be in the mood. She was at a loss. 
Their reality that had once been passionate, sweaty, tangled in the sheets had given way to a new reality. One where she pretended she didn’t hear him leave their room to go to the gym every night. One where he convinced himself his absence was better for her. One where neither of them felt happy. 
As he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, a pang of realization hit him in the gut. 
I have to let her go. For her own good.
The gym, usually a place of solace, now echoed with the tortuous thoughts that crowded Bucky's mind. He stood there, caught between the pull of love and the push of self-doubt, wondering if sacrificing his happiness might be the only way to ensure hers.
---
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End of February, The Next Day
The air in the common room hung heavy with tension, a storm brewing in the otherwise quiet evening at the Avengers Compound. The team exchanged uneasy glances, as the thin door to Gianna’s bedroom did little to mask what was happening behind it. Natasha shot Steve a concerned look, her instincts honed from years of reading between the lines. 
Gianna and Bucky stood on opposite ends of her room, the echoes of their argument reverberating through the walls.
"Why can't you just talk to me? Do you know how much it hurts that you're making this decision without even discussing it with me, without giving me a chance to change it?" Gianna's voice quivered with the rawness of her emotions. “I have to feel you pulling away for weeks, beg you to talk to me, and now…this?”
"I thought it would be easier this way," Bucky admitted, his voice heavy with regret.
Gianna shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "Nothing worth having is easy, Bucky. Love isn't easy. But you don't just throw it away because it's hard."
“I’m not throwing it away because it’s hard, Gianna. I’m giving it up because you’re better off without me, I -”
"What do you mean I'm better off without you?!" Gianna's voice rose, a crescendo of hurt and disbelief. Her eyes, usually filled with warmth, were now ablaze with anger. “You don't get to decide what I deserve, Bucky! All I did was try to love you the best way I possibly could, and this is how you repay me? By pushing me away? By dumping me?”
Bucky's expression was a mixture of regret and resolve. "I can't give you what you deserve, Gianna. You deserve a life without the shadows of my past."
“Bullshit,” Her laughter was bitter. "That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it.” 
She crossed the room and jabbed a finger into his chest as angry tears filled her eyes. “I know your past, all of it. You sat there in my hotel room and you decided to trust me with it. Not once have I judged you, not once have I used it against you, not once have I given you any reason to regret trusting me. So don’t you dare stand here and tell me I deserve better than your past when I saw all of it and decided for myself that it changed nothing.” 
His jaw clenched, the weight of his decision etched into the lines of his face. "It’s not about that, Gianna. I don’t regret telling you anything, but you deserve to be with someone without a past you have to overlook -”
“I don’t overlook your past, Bucky!” She cried. “I don’t love you because I can ignore everything you did, or in spite of who you are -- I love you because of who you are! Everything you’ve overcome, how strong and kind and good you are. I don’t want someone who has a perfect past, I want someone who knows how ugly the world is and chooses to be good anyways. I want you.” Her voice broke at the end as her rage gave way to heartbreak. 
“I would never be able to live with myself if I kept you from everything you deserve,” He spoke softly.
“You don’t get to decide what I deserve!” She interrupted, staring up at him with angry tears streaking down her face. 
 “You deserve a man who doesn’t get called a murderer when he walks down the street.” Bucky hissed. “Your kids deserve a father that hasn’t committed fucking war crimes. Hell, you deserve someone who can give you a family at all, because who the hell knows if I even can!” 
“That’s not fair,” She protested. “I never asked for those things from you.” 
“You shouldn’t have to ask for a good life, Gianna.” His eyes softened as he ran his fingertips down the back of her arm, a gesture that used to make her heart clench now shattered it even further. “That’s why I’m letting you go find it.” 
She wrenched free of his grasp and stormed out of the room, throwing the door open. The team looked up, caught in the crossfire of a relationship unraveling, unsure if they should acknowledge or intervene at all. Gianna ignored the audience as she whirled to face Bucky who’d followed her out of the room. 
“Do you know where I was before I met you?” Her eyes narrowed. “I was alone. Completely and utterly alone. The only people who cared if I woke up in the morning were the people who worked for me. I would go weeks without anyone asking how I really was. I was a spectacle, a circus act. I was a commodity.” She paused to take a shaky breath. “So this ‘better life’ you’re so nobly sending me back to? It doesn’t fucking exist.”
Gianna stepped further into the living room, finally acknowledging the group. “And do you know the worst part?” She gave that cold, foreign laugh again before turning back to Bucky. “You already knew all of that. You knew because I trusted you and I told you. Yet here you are anyways, sending me right back into the life I loved you for saving me from.” 
There was no sound in the room except for Gianna’s ragged breathing. The look of pure anguish on Bucky’s face was enough to break even the coldest heart. No one dared intervene, not when so much hung in the balance between them. 
“I spent months crying myself to sleep before you came along.” Gianna spoke softly, reigning in her emotions. “But what difference does it make now, considering for the past two weeks you haven’t even cared to stay in bed long enough to know that I’m right back to my old ways.” 
Her eerily calm delivery struck the final blow. Bucky’s face crumpled as he looked at the ground. Guilt rose up inside him. For weeks, he’d been avoiding her, sneaking out of their room, doing anything he could to deal with his own shit. Not once did he think of what that was doing to her. In trying to protect her, he’d been slowly breaking her heart anyways.
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Gianna turned her back on Bucky, his broken expression still locked on the ground. 
“Can someone take me back to New York, please?” She spoke softly but firmly, eyes scanning the pained faces of her friends. Her fists clenched at her sides.
The group shifted nervously on the couch, unsure what to do. The recent tension between the couple hadn’t exactly gone unnoticed, but this explosion had caught them all by surprise. No one wanted to move, to acknowledge that this was real. To take Gianna back to the city would be to cement both of their broken hearts. 
“Nat?” Gianna’s lower lip quivered. “Please?” 
The redhead stilled beside Steve. His hand squeezed hers in reassurance that everything would be okay. It had to be okay. 
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“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Nat’s voice was soft, kind as she stood, weaving through the group. “Do you want to grab your stuff?” 
“No.” She didn’t look behind her as she turned to leave the room. “There’s nothing here I need anymore.” 
And with that, she walked away, leaving Bucky standing in the ruins of a love he was convinced he had to sacrifice.
---
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Present Day, Mid-March, New York
Gianna's eyes stung with tears that wouldn’t come. For once in her life, she had no tears left to cry. 
The phone continued to vibrate, a cruel reminder of the messages she couldn't bring herself to read. The truth she didn’t want to acknowledge. 
Bucky Barnes had left her. She was alone. 
This time, no one was coming to save her. 
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shitouttabuck · 5 months
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20 questions for fic writers
tagged by @thewolvesof1998 thank u bud i’m procrastinating packing and this was fun
1. how many works do you have on ao3?
seven!
2. what’s your total ao3 word count?
129,484 which is a fake number to me
3. what fandoms do you write for?
nothing has made me as insane in my life as network television procedural drama 911 on abc, so
4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?
you can start a family who will always show you love
let the world have its way with you
my hearts over-pumping and your mouth is an ambulance
like a dog with a bird at your door
i like the summer rain (i like the sounds you make)
5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?
i try very hard to because they make me so happy and it’s unbelievably kind of people to take the time to leave them!!! However i sometimes leave it too long and then worry it’s weird to reply after like. a month. which as a fic reader i wouldn’t give a shit about so idk what my problem is!!!! i will reply i will just maybe take a hot sec to do it
6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
i don’t have any i’m a happily ever after or bust kinda guy in my own head if nowhere else…… angstiest is probably the sound of love astounds me if only because it ends post-feelings realisation but still pre-relationship
7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
they’re all so happy omg. i will say with great personal bias it’s my heart’s over-pumping but also i have. a sequel in the works….
8. do you get hate on fics?
no people have been very very very lovely but also sjjsjsjs i’ve not been here super long. the funniest comment i’ve gotten was on my first fic where someone was like i liked this but it is jarringly inaccurate as mcdonald’s in california doesn’t have a veggie burger option 😭 i cried laughing im so sorry to u americans. pls petition your local mcdonald’s to stock the mcplant it slaps
9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?
have written two e-rated fics….. it’s very fun but i don’t think i’m very good so i’d like to practice actually (maybe some sexy prompts after i finish the bed-sharing ones?) just the regular kind for now like i love buck and eddie desperately and am myself into a million things but i don’t know how kinky they would actually get in my own head. so just a little gross with it for now i guess
10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?
nope!
11. have you ever had a fic stolen?
nope
12. have you ever had a fic translated?
no that would be SICK. @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove is podficcing bucket list fic which is so very cool of her!
13. have you ever co-written a fic before?
no omg i don’t know how y’all do it i’m bad at group projects but also this sounds soooooo fun. if also deeply stressful
14. what’s your all time favorite ship?
if that’s synonymous with most likely to get you institutionalised, uh. gestures around us. otherwise mulder/scully and i am just now right as i’m typing this realising i’ve never ever in my life actually read x files fic what the fuck. also steve/bucky but i haven’t read fic since 2017 probably
15. what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
listen i have not written a word for x files au past that one snip i shared forever ago. i want to soooo bad i’ve talked about it to some of you very rabidly but. it does not want to be written and if it did it would have to be so fucking long which is very daunting to me. not saying i’ve put her in the ground yet but. we might need some necromancing
16. what are your writing strengths?
i think i’m pretty good at writing in character? mostly? sometimes i struggle with buck just because i think we’re very similar and i project a little and then have to go back and fix it lmao but for the most part i think i’m good at that! and i have a lot of fun writing dialogue
17. what are your writing weaknesses?
plot!!!!!! and pacing!!!!!!!!!!! also my inability to write non-linearly omg if i get stuck i just get Stuck i can’t jump ahead
18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
oooh i love it and would love to include more than the teeniest bits i have but i’m so conscious about it sounding natural and not stiff to people whose language it actually is (shout out and a million kisses to @eddiebabygirldiaz for fixing the spanish in i love you like a dog!!!!!)
19. first fandom you wrote for?
911 babey!
20. favorite fic you’ve written?
my heart’s over-pumping and your mouth is an ambulance !!! not just because it was the first fic i posted after joining tumblr fandom but. idk it is so so so special to me like it makes me so happy and when i think about it i’m like. hey u wrote that. good for u my dude. and also maybe i just associate it with meeting a bunch of you whjsjssjsj
tagging @callaplums @eddiebabygirldiaz @housewifebuck @rewritetheending @try-set-me-on-fire @onward--upward @anxieteandbiscuits @devirnis @athenagranted if anyone wants to do this i’m nosy soz if you already have !!!!
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artficlly · 9 months
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lady of the ghosts [chapter 6]
After a great plague ravages your city, you are looking to marry to secure safety for your people. With a war finally ending, the nearby kingdoms are looking to celebrate. King James "Bucky" Barnes decides to continue his family's tradition of hosting a courting season. A medieval courting marvel AU.
Pairing: king!bucky x lady!reader
Warnings: death, mention of dead body, anxiety, doubt, discussion of funerals, mentions of sexism, angst, tension, FLUFF, lovebites, steve is cocky, lmk if i've missed anything
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: heres a short n sweet one for ya <3 the funeral is coming up next chapter, are you ready??? i think if i start writing smaller chapters i might be able to get them out more frequently instead of the 10k+ monster this chapter was supposed to be. also i've put this fic onto ao3 (same name and username - pls leave some kudos to help boost) please enjoy and let me know what you think, reblogs and likes appreciated! as always, not proof read - sorry for any typos
chapter masterlist | main masterlist
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Before the Stormfall Mountain’s Pass had been created, Faliene had been impenetrable. The city was only accessible by the frigid Northern Ocean, and few dared to challenge her depths. All those years ago, men feared the gods and what may have lurked under the surface. The children of Neume harnessed the wind and waves, so her inky depths spared them. The same could not be said for the others. The pass had been a success, but it was also the beginning of the end. Her secrets and spirit were lost to the passage of time, devoured by Haiford the moment her underbelly was revealed. The fall was inevitable.
The pass had fallen into disrepair since you last traveled it, with entire sections of the path swallowed by snow and ice. You had been a child back then, ushered from inn to carriage day after day as you and your mother had escaped the plague-ridden city. You wondered if the mountains remembered you as you remembered them. Did your footprints remain buried deep under layers of snow? Or had they been washed away in the thaw as quickly as a wave over sand? 
You had never thought you would see those thick blankets of snow again, your breath was constant and loud as the thin air burned your lungs. How many years have you dreamed of this pass? Your fingers and toes numb as you barreled through the blizzard, reaching and screaming for that distant city. How many years has it been since you last saw Faliene in all her glory? As excited as you were to be reunited with your home, apprehension clawed at your gut. 
Would your people remember you? Would they accept you – their lady, who had spent half her childhood coddled away in Haiford Capital while they starved? Would they hate you or forgive you? You had spent so long fighting and trying to return; would you even recognize Faliene anymore? You had been stripped of so many things – a mother, a home, a culture – did you even know how to be a part of your own heritage, your legacy? So many questions clawed at your mind that your stomach would ache at night as you lay awake contemplating the vastness of it all. 
With stiff hands, you wrapped your fur cloak closer around your body, your eyes straining against the bitter wind that blew polar air straight to your core. Around you, thick flakes of snow floated, a layer of ice clinging to your eyelashes and exposed hair. In the distance, you could make out the warm orange candlelight of the inn; in the time you had been gone, the sky had darkened dramatically. You were not afraid of the cold or the dark, and you relished the opportunity to breathe in the frosty night sky. 
So many years you had spent cooped up. What would be a nightmare for most would be freedom for you. 
Due to King Harrison not having the foresight to hire a Falienean guide, it fell to you to scout the barely-used path. Although inexperienced, you had not failed so far. Following your intuition and fuzzy memories, you were able to locate the paths long buried under months of snow. In the evenings, while the others sheltered in the inns and boardhouses throughout the pass, you would scout ahead to ensure the path was safe to follow.
Thankfully, due to the many families that still braved living in the mountains, most of the main path remained relatively intact. The families were mainly farmers raising mountain goats and sheep, offering board for travelers and traders for extra income. And much to your rising concern, many of the families didn’t recognize you as their lady until you introduced yourself. 
Once dismounted, you quickly settled your horse in the small stable attached to the inn. Due to navigational convenience and your growing resentment of being cooped up in a carriage, you had mostly traveled on horseback. The first days between Haiford Capital and the mountains, you would have nightmares of being trapped inside a coffin – like your mothers – clawing your nails bloody on the wood. When you would finally rip off the lid of the coffin, you would find yourself in a carriage, the horses charging at a neck-breaking speed. 
As you passed the carriages tucked away beside the stables, you frowned. One for King Harrison, Peggy, and Michael. The other for your mother in her coffin. Although you were nearly two weeks into your journey, her body would show no signs of decomposition. The mountains would have frozen her solid, her body like a porcelain doll. 
Once inside the inn, you quickly ascended the stairs to the upper level. Although you were freezing and craving a warm drink, the idea of fighting past the Haifordian guard that crowded the kitchen stove sounded exhausting. Shrugging off your cloak, jacket, and hat, you reached the room you shared with Peggy. With such a small inn and a large traveling party, it was easier for certain groups to sleep in the same room. Both you and Peggy being unmarried women meant you were paired together, while some of the Haifordian guards were cramming more than six men into a room. 
Your hand paused over the doorknob, a sound from the other side catching you off guard. You were so busy contemplating how best to dry your damp clothing that you nearly missed it. Leaning your ear closer to the door, you roll your eyes in irritation. The sound of Peggy giggling carried through the wood, a familiar male voice spoke low words you couldn’t quite make out. 
Steve. With a huff, you step away from the door. Both of them had been playing a risky game the entire trip, regularly visiting each other's rooms. The wrong person would eventually learn about them, it was only a matter of time. 
You hesitate in the hallway. They had never visited so late into the evening before; normally Peggy was preparing for or already in bed by the time you came back from your scouting missions. Traveling through thick snow was as hard as expected, exhausting even for those tucked into the carriages. It wasn’t unusual for the party to be in bed straight after an early supper. 
You were half tempted to barge in and interrupt them; you were tired from a long day on horseback. You still didn’t feel like braving the kitchen and sitting outside and waiting would be highly suspicious. Lingering in the hallway for a few more minutes, you grumble a few unsavory words under your breath before trying to find your next best options. James. 
To the surprise of everyone but you, James had canceled the season. He had also insisted on traveling with the first party – your party – to Faliene. Another party was a few days behind yours, made up of Galantian and Asgardian guards, a group of the Galantian court, and Asgardian royalty. You had a sneaking suspicion that while half of them were there to show their respect, the others were there to see a Falienean funeral firsthand. Due to the rituals and traditions involved, Falienean funerals were frequently regarded as barbaric spectacles. 
You waver outside James’ room. Despite him traveling with your party, the two of you had barely spoken since the library. You suspected he was trying to draw attention away from the both of you, but his presence mustered up enough rumors with the Haifordian guard. Most of your conversations were spent with Steve. When he wasn’t bluntly flirting with Peggy, he would be complaining about the growing cold, much to your mockery and amusement. You were unsure of how he would cope with the chill of Faliene; the Stormfall Mountains were cold, but nothing in comparison to the chill that blew in off the northern sea. 
Chewing your lip, you finally gave in and rapped your knuckles lightly against the door. With your breath held, you wait, wondering if he even heard the knock at all. You might have missed him downstairs, or maybe he had already fallen asleep–
The door suddenly swung open, startling you as you took a step back. James stood in the doorway, an equally surprised expression flashing across his features momentarily. It wasn’t just the expression that hinted at his shock at your presence, but also the fact that he was shirtless. You hug your discarded clothing closer to your chest. You tried to keep your eyes anywhere but his bare skin, your mouth growing dry as you struggled to find words to explain your sudden presence at his door. 
Now no longer covered, you could get a better look at his tattooed arm, with swirling blue ink patterning his entire left arm and shoulder. A large, raised scar ran across his shoulder joint, nearly entirely encircling the flesh. The scar was ghostly white and gnarled like the roots of a tree. It looked impossible – the type of scar someone shouldn’t have survived. But the ink decorating his skin told a story you already knew. Magic. Magic had saved his arm and, most likely, his life. So many denied its existence when it stood so blatantly in front of them. 
Swallowing hard, you glance upward to meet his gaze. You couldn’t ignore the smirk that tugged at his lips, his right side now leaning against the doorframe as he eyed you with a silent satisfaction. 
“Can I come in?” You abruptly say, suddenly remembering how to speak. James’ chuckles lowly at you before motioning you inside. 
Still flustered, you quickly duck past his muscled form, peeling off your gloves as you stand in the center of the room with a quiet huff. James’ still snickers at you as he closes the door. 
“You knocked so quietly, I thought I was hearing things.” He says this while you continue to refuse to look at him. Instead, your gaze falls on the room around you; it is nearly identical to yours. Two beds are layered with furs and blankets, one for him and one for Steve. A sheepskin rug thrown over the wooden floors. On the other side of the room is a roaring fireplace, with two seats positioned in front of it. 
“Sorry, I didn’t know where else to go.” You mutter, squeezing your hand into a fist as you try to regain feeling in your numb fingers. 
“Peggy and Steve?” He asks, the floorboards creaking softly under his weight as he inches closer to where you stand. 
“They’re going to get caught–” You begin to grumble but cut yourself off as you realize how close James has grown. Your breath catches in your throat as he reaches out, a single tattooed finger twirling around a damp strand of your hair. 
“You’re soaking.” His voice cuts into the abrupt silence, but your focus is on the closeness of his body rather than the state of your clothes and hair. “Come, sit by the fire.”
You wordlessly oblige, allowing him to lead you to one of the seats. In the low light, James’ muscles and veins are illuminated by the orange glow of the fire. Peeling off another damp layer, James takes your previously discarded clothing and lines it in front of the fireplace to dry. 
“The snow must have melted.” You mutter, remembering the snowflakes and ice that had clung to your clothes and hair before you came inside. James hums in reply, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at you, ensuring you are settled before finally pulling on a shirt. You sigh through your nose, half in relief and half in disappointment. 
A comfortable silence falls as he takes a seat across from you. You could feel his gaze watching as you quietly unlaced your seal-leather snow boots. The leather was more successful at keeping out the creeping wetness and dampness of the snow. Without the blubber to insulate the cold, your toes felt frozen beneath your thick, woolen socks.
During the weeks of travel, you had found yourself hoping for a moment alone like this to talk after so much silence had passed between the both of you. Nearly daily, when you weren’t consumed by anxieties for the quickly approaching future, you would think back to that moment in the library and what you would say once you were alone. 
Now that you were here, you were near speechless. 
As you twisted the rings on your fingers, you recounted all of the questions and thoughts that had lingered in your mind for so long – so many conversations you wished to have with the King in front of you. You were unsure where to start. 
“Why does Steve call you Bucky?” You ask, breaking the stillness. You mentally curse yourself at the bluntness of the question. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask the heavy questions: ‘Why did you come?’ or ‘What will become of us once this funeral is over?’. To your surprise, a gentle look crosses his face, and you lean back into your seat. 
“It’s just a nickname I had as a child, I suppose there's some familiarity to it.” He replies with a light chuckle, running his hand up through his hair again as if in thought. You keep an intense gaze on him, distracted by the movement.
“I thought there was going to be a dramatic story.” You admit lightheartedly, finally breaking your stare. Maybe something soft and lighthearted was the way to start, to ease yourself back into the familiarity of conversation. You had spent so long silent; your jaw clenched as you rode through the snow each day. It was a wonder you even remembered how to form words and that your mouth hadn’t become frozen shut. 
“No. I was always Bucky or Buck, and Steve was Stevie sometimes.” 
“Stevie? That’s too cute for that brute.” You mutter, and James’ gives you a lopsided grin.
“I think it was because of Becca. She would call me Jamie sometimes, so naturally Steve was Stevie.” He explains, though there is a twinge of sadness in his tone. Your gut squeezes, an anxious reminder of the past and the grief attached to it.
“I wish I had been able to meet her.” Your words are gentle and slow, almost hesitant. 
James stared long and hard into the fire for a time. “Becca? Well…she could be a mean, spoiled brat sometimes.” 
You could sense the deflection in his words and tone. You had noticed that he rarely spoke of Rebecca, and when he did, it pained him. He rarely went beyond the surface, never talking of their relationship beyond the fact that they were siblings. You could understand not wanting to revisit such memories. You often treated the memories of your father in similar ways, holding them close to your chest as secrets only you could know. 
“I think that is just the way with siblings. At least, that is what Peggy has told me.” You offer, lightheartedly. 
“I think she’s right. As much of a brat as Becca could be, I still loved her.” A dark look comes over his face, and you watch as he clenches and unclenches his fist before speaking once more. “What were your nicknames?”
You don’t push the subject of Rebecca further, instead latching onto his latter question. “I never had any.”
“None? Really?” He asked in surprise. 
You take a moment to think back and remember the warm, fuzzy memories of your childhood. You could remember running rampant through the halls of Fort Faliene, peeling off your stockings to wade in the waters near the dock. You could remember sitting on your father's desk, legs swinging through the air as you watched him organize his bookshelf, a half-played chess game abandoned nearby. 
“My father used to call me a wild cat, or his little wild cat, like the snow leopards that live deeper in the mountains. It’s ironic to think back on now, considering the leopards are called Ghosts of the Mountain.” You hum in thought, that warm, fuzzy feeling replaced with something bitter in your chest as your mind moves closer to recent history. Your nails tap against the wooden arm of the chair. 
“And then the endearing names turned to cruel ones, words to belittle me because of my gender and my culture. They called my mother the Lady of the Ghosts before me. She always shouldered it so easily, she would call me her Little Ghost.”
“Little Ghost?” James questioned you, his voice low as if he did not wish to interrupt your sudden openness. 
“It was because the Haifordian’s said I was like a little ghost when we first left Faliene.” A sad smile plays across your lips as you recount the memory. “I was barely fourteen, my father was dead, and my home was ripped from me. When I couldn’t sleep in that terrible castle, I would wander the halls and gardens. The maids would go to my mother in the morning and say, ‘Your little ghost was wandering the halls again’, expecting her to reprimand me. My mother would just laugh at them and say, ‘She is a ghost, what do you expect?’–
“Sometimes she would join me at night. We would look at the moon and the stars in the garden. When the moon was visible, she would say, ‘Tonight is a high tide, the men will be bringing in the hauls’, as if we were still there, walking along the docks. That was before she got sick, of course… By the time I was sixteen, she was bedridden and had entirely forgotten who I was. That’s when I became the Lady of the Ghosts, not just the little ghost that haunted the halls of the Haifordian court.” 
The silence that follows your words is deafening, with James watching you with a soft expression as you sigh sharply and lean back further into your seat. 
“You carry a piece of her with you everywhere, then.” James speaks, his voice gentle. Your eyes flutter upward, surprised. “Every time your enemies mock you with those names, they are breathing life into her legacy. Your legacy.” 
The wave of emotion that rolled over your body at his words was indescribable. You had felt fondness toward others before, but never to this degree. Your heart thumped in your chest as you swallowed hard, leaning forward in your seat. How could he take such a melancholic, painful memory and turn it into something of beauty? How could he take the anxiety clawing at your chest and simply replace it with calm?
Your hand reached out to grasp his, causing a fuzzy feeling in your gut and skull as you tried to figure out the words to say. Nothing came, nothing you could quite describe or express. Desire tingled across your skin as you contemplated clambering into his lap, allowing him to embrace you like he had in the library. Just you and him, his arms sheltering you from reality. 
“James I–” You start, and his gaze is intense as he watches you creep closer. But as quickly as the moment began, it abruptly stopped. Your body jolted back involuntarily in fright as the door to the room slammed open. 
You gaped as Steve walked in with a shit-eating grin, the exposed skin of his neck and collarbones dotted with quickly bruising love bites. James visibly deflates beside you, a tense breath leaving his nose sharply as he avoids eye contact with you. You try to ignore the hurt that squeezes your chest at that sight, instead turning your attention to a smug Steve.
“Steve!” You scold, clambering to your feet. “You are so lucky we have to dress heavy with the snow! If King Harrison caught you, he would have you head–” 
“Y/N, relax. It’s fine, no one saw us.” Steve reassures you, almost immediately stealing your seat in front of the fire. You roll your eyes, slapping him on the shoulder as you shimmy past to pick up your clothing from in front of the fire. 
James remains silent, locked in an intense stare with Steve as you hand your still damp clothing over your arm. Steve glances between the two of you with a quizzical yet knowing stare. You watch on in confusion as the two men seem to have a silent conversation with their eyes, James shaking his head at the blond. You reach down and collect your boots with a huff, deciding to exit the room before the sting of James’ sudden snub sets in. 
“I am going to bed.” You say, noting James’ reluctance to catch your eye.
“Sweet dreams.” Steve hums, an even wider smile spreading across his face, watching as if he knew something you didn’t. All you can muster is a scoff, closing the door behind you without looking back. 
taglist| @liter4ti @just-someone11 @champagnejoker @scooobies @queerqueenlynn @roryhaarts @fanfictionjunkie1112 @themotherof10 @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic
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the-iceni-bitch · 1 year
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hehe ask you stuff you say 🌚 here I come !!
So Lloyd and Ari are the main stars, right? But have any of the other guys expressed their interest in the reader? 🫡 is there any jealousy/jealousy potential or is this a filthy case of sharing is caring 🤭 AND pretty pls rank them from biggest, baddest and meanest !! love you bestie Natalie, your rugby au (all of your aus really) have me by the throat 😚🫶
Yay!!! You never disappoint, Sonny!!
Lloyd and Ari are most def our main daddies, as they’ve known each other and reader the longest.
The guys have definitely expressed interest before, but there is also a big tradition at least in the main house of sharing “dates” and girlfriends, especially if there’s about to be a breakup. With this reader it will be different, since Lloyd actually wants to use the opportunity to share you during team bonding to lock you down, and I will say that you are a much more conscious and willing participant than past girls were, which the guys find they’re very into. You are very much still a victim of the revenge porn portion of team bonding though. Which will help quite a lot with getting you to move in to the main house.
Jealousy potential is there somewhat, but more in the case of certain people (Curtis and August) doing things without permission or trying to monopolize her time when her main daddies aren’t around for whatever reason. And some of the boys who aren’t in the main group (Lucas, Paul, and Lance) definitely get jealous that they only rarely get to indulge in you and never one on one, so there’s a bit of drama there but nothing too major.
Now, biggest and baddest rankings! I have to do a separate list for each because size and meanness are not necessarily correlated for our daddies. This will also just be for the main group.
Biggest:
Curtis - 6’9” of solid muscle, can probably lift a car with no effort, inked up and rarely wears anything except dick pants when he’s at home
August - 6’8” also very solid and a little broader than Curtis, nicknamed the hammer because he flattens anyone he’s up against
Ari - 6’8” a bit leaner but he’s still a rugby player, narrower in the hips and more of a runner
Steve - 6’7” rugged, vicious, can literally throw other dudes across the pitch with no effort
Bucky - 6’7” beefy, focused, catches whoever Steve tosses out of the scrum and pounds them into the ground
Lloyd - 6’6” but more lithe per his position, quick and precise, always thinks four moves ahead
Nick - 6’6” and bulky, picks up on defensive patterns easily
Hal - 6’5” and wicked fast, always a go to for ball handling (this isn’t a double entendre but hehe anyway)
Ransom - 6’5” and while still built, the leanest of the bunch, their go to jumper
Baddest:
Curtis & August - will pretty much always fuck you like they hate you, their goal is always to make you cry, and they will laugh at you once you do. They will call you the nastiest things and write them all over your skin before covering you in cum. And lets just say they do some things with used condoms before you’re finally worn down enough to stop insisting on them that are just, so mean
Lloyd - madly in love with you but hates that you think you need anything in your life except him, so his goal is to break you down until you’re completely dependent on him. Constantly slut shames you and tells you no one else would ever put up with all the perverted shit you secretly like (that he introduced you to but that’s not important). Expert at manipulating you to get exactly what he wants and loves watching you in utterly depraved situations
Ransom -while the boys higher on the list may be more obviously and physically mean, Ransom is devious and will lull you into a false sense of security before utterly ruining you. All it takes is one mistake or slip up for him to call you a dumb bitch and go off on how you can’t do anything right so now you have to make it up to him.
Ari - loves you almost as much as Lloyd does, but recognizes that the cruelty Lloyd takes out on you can be overwhelming, so he’s just a little softer in his degradation. Still calls you dummy and mentions how stupid and slutty you are, but in a much more endearing way. Ruins you with his dick though, let’s not kid ourselves
Nick - doesn’t really care about you much except for how good your holes feel, so he’s not exactly mean, but he’s not nice either. If you come, great, if you’re ruined by the end of his time with you, also good. But all he really wants is to pump his load into something warm. Do not tell him no though or he turns into a beast
Hal - thinks you’re incredibly adorable when you’re all fucked out, no matter how nasty of a state you’re in, and will take a shit ton of photos of you to show anyone he wants. Also loves making you cockwarm him or ride his thigh when you’re already ruined then will ask you a bunch of hard questions and laugh when you can’t think of the answer
Bucky and Steve - are the sneakiest in their meanness, because they love praising you while they’re inside you, but often when you’re telling them to stop and that it’s too much. They’re actually a couple but they love sharing a single tight hole and the fact that Lloyd has brought around a willing participant makes them giddy. You typically can’t walk after any time with them so they carry you around and take care of you like their own little doll. They are very attentive in their aftercare, though.
This was so much more info than I originally planned, whoops
Ask me anything about All of that Ultraviolence
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openforjean · 1 year
Text
i can’t live without you - hi james (one) 
bucky barnes x fem!reader (modern au)
warnings: +18, mentions of sex, alcohol, swearing
a/n: pls any feedback or comments/responses/reactions would help me decide to keep going so pls lmk
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I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. He grew his facial hair out, and he has to be at least 6’3 now. Next to him is a woman with a long red dress, she’s all done. She is so beautiful. And so is he. I can’t look away. He is doing so well, I heard he’s now involved in big business stuff. I’m not sure what, Steve didn’t go too much into detail. He knows it still hurts a bit to think about him. I only ask because…I want the best for him, and I am nosy. I will admit that. But…I just hope he’s doing okay. Doing better, he deserves it. 
He looks a lot better… in a healthy way! Mentally, and physically! 
“Hey, I think he’s going to notice you’re staring at him,” a familiar voice says. I turn to my right, and next to me is Peter. Peter Parker, maybe the sweetest soul to ever roam on Earth. My closest friend. He knows what happened between us, I think most of our friends do.
 Peter’s eyes stay focused on the ceiling as he sips his non-alcoholic drink. I look down at the ground and I gulp. “I didn’t think he'd be here. I thought he moved to Romania,” I responded. Peter turns to me and clears his throat. “He does live in Romania. He’s just here to be supportive, ya know?” Peter says. I look up at him, just to see his stupid face. He gives me a goofy smile. “I know. It’s just hard, even though it was three years ago,” I say while turning my back to James. I suddenly felt this rush telling me to let go. I don’t need to keep thinking about him, I should be focusing on this party. Tony’s Christmas party. Where all there is to do is drink, grind, and eat. And maybe throw up in some corner. And! It’s not even close to Christmas, it’s in 10 days. “It’s okay, I know it’s hard. You two didn’t end well, it has to hurt,” Peter says as a server comes up to Peter and takes his empty glass. He smiles and nods at the server. I look back to see James, and he’s talking to Steve now. They seem to be talking about something serious, going off their faces. Jaws clenched, and standing head to head. I turn my head to Peter, and tilt my head to their direction. Peter looks at them and his lips form a thin line. “Looks like they’re talking about who has the bigger dick,” Peter jokes. I freeze, I turn away from Peter so he doesn’t see my hot face. Does he know? I never told him. I never told him about the times I’ve slept with Steve a few months back. How does he-
“Y/n, Bucky is walking over to us,” Peter whispers, facing him. 
What. No, no, no. I’m not ready, I can’t. I’m not ready to talk to him. Please, no. 
“Hello Peter. Hey…Y/n,” James says. 
I slowly turn around. And suddenly it's summer again. 
“Y/n, there’s no way I can fuse into your skin. I can’t, like it’s not possible. And how would we go to the bathroom? You’re insane,” James says, laughing. 
We’re laying on his bed in his shared apartment. The apartment he shares with Steve and Sam. Steve got here first, then Sam, and then James. Sam and James don’t get along well. They’re always butting heads. Like one time, James used Sam’s towel. Sam ended up tossing it in the dumpster. 
“Just say you hate me and you want to kill me, James. I don’t see why we can’t fuse ourselves together? We’d be together all the time!.. Do you not want that?” I say, scooting closer to him. Widening my eyes, and smiling. He blinks a few times, and puts his head down. “You’re so fucking weird! I’m going out with a weirdo!” He yells into the mattress. I laugh and lay on his back. “But I love you, James!” I say, laughing. 
“I love you too.” 
“Hi James.”
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theoreticslut · 2 years
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Also, how about headcanons about Bucky taking care of reader during a very difficult period?
i wasn’t exactly what you meant w/ this - if you wanted him taking care of reader during their period, or if you meant a rough period of time. i went with the latter, but if you want the prior, I can definitely do that too 💗
「 taking care of you 」
bucky barnes x fem reader
requested: yes
warnings: pet names (doll), mentions of not being okay (whatever the reason), mentions of food/eating
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-while most find bucky terrifying at first
-you weren’t scared in the slightest
-you may have been hesitant to start a conversation with him sure
-but not because you were scared
-he kept to himself and you didn’t want to push him
-it never stopped you from smiling or waving at him though
-it never stopped you from gretting him or making sure he was okay during group things
-which is how the two of you become such quick friends
-he found himself looking forward to your smiles and waves and little tilts of your head
-he found himself happy by the thought of you
-so he took it upon himself to strike up a conversation one day
-however that conversation turned into another and another
-until everyone knew that wherever you were, bucky would be as well
-after time people realize that bucky is a great friend
-often caring for and being able to read people easily
-what they don’t realize, though, is that it’s his past as the winter soldier that’s made him so empathetic & observant
-he can tell with the slightest shift in body language how someone is feeling bc he was built to
-it’s one of those things he wants to hate but can’t about his past
-bc without it he might not be able to tell that something is off with you
-you’ve been quiet & tired & downcast
-you flinch when people get too loud or if someone touches you
-even when Sam went to give you a hug the other day you flinched and tensed up
-however that’s not even mentioning how he’s been keeping on eye on what you’ve been eating and doing
-which, truthfully, isn’t much
-the only time he’s seen you with food the last few weeks is if someone else makes it’s for you
-& even then you mainly push the food around your plate
-something is wrong which worries bucky to no end
-but like you when you first met him
-he didn’t want to push you on it
-not until it got to the point that you’d barely come out of your room
-so here he is standing outside your door
-trying to get the courage to knock
-“y/n? It’s bucky.” He finally calls through your door
-“I’m coming in.”
-carefully he pushes open your door to find you laying in bed
-staring blankly at the wall ahead of you
-“hey buck.”
-“hey, doll. What’s been going on? I’m worried.”
-“just tired.”
-even as you mumble out your reply you still don’t turn your attention to your friend
-frowning, bucky would make his way into your room
-squishing himself into your bed behind you
-and he’s gently coax an explanation out of you
-it doesn’t matter how long it takes
-or how resistant you are
-he’s not going to continue watching you shut yourself off from the world
-whatever it is that’s got you down
-maybe you have depression or something bad has happened in your family
-whatever it is he’ll be there to comfort you
-he’ll bring you food and water
-and will sit there until you finish it
-he’ll help you to get up and shower
-he’d even tidy up your room should it have been a mess
-hours upon hours will be spent laying beside you
-cuddling you, playing with your hair, or tracing shapes into your skin
-it doesn’t matter what it takes
-bucky is going to take care of you
-bc you’re his best friend & he loves you
-he’s not letting you leave him in such a way
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