Love-Sweat Morning (NSFW|Avvar au)
 Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Elora Trevelyan
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 3535
Ao3 Link
Summary:Â The night of the Fire Dance is almost over and she should be resting. But memories and desire wonât let her.
Note:Â This was inspired by the amazing piece that @feylen did for my patreon reward this month. And since I didnât want to wait until the Fire Dance actually happens in story, and Iâm not sure how I could have made this fit, I thought to post it now and it can be a sort of lost chapter later.
      Coming awake slowly, Elora sighed contentedly. She felt good. No, better than good. Incredible. She feltâŠincredible. Parts of her were aching but it was pleasant which was completely odd to think that any sort of pain could make her feel like this. But then again it was the ache of well used muscles andâŠshe had certainly been using her muscles recently.
      A smile curled her mouth and she buried her face in the pillow. Maker, had that actually happened? Had she truly spent the entire night making love to Cullen? Warmth flooded her. Yes, she had. She had the aches to go with it and her body was still humming from the pleasure he had given her. She was also fairly certain that he had left little red marks all over her, lips and teeth nipping and sucking at so much of her.
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Quarterback!Bucky x Cheerleader reader
No thots, just-
Imagine soft intimate football player Bucky. He hasnât been able to spend time with you in weeks between practice, classes and your schedules conflicting. Heâs been able to get a kiss and a cuddle in at most but nothing more than that. The season is almost over, the final game in session.Â
He couldnât be happier when he gets you in his arms after scoring the final touch down, carrying you the entire time, not caring about a trophy when he as you to be proud of.Â
He doesnât take you apart in the locker room. Donât get me wrong, he wants to so badly, so fucking badly but you deserve more than that. Weeks of not being able to love on you properly; heâs not going to spend his celebratory night bending you over the benches or against the shower walls.Â
No.
He takes you back to his place and clothes are tossed aside the second you get to his room. He pulls you into the hot shower with him, steam filling the room between his wandering hands and soft kisses. Heâs taking all the time in the world tonight, feeling your soft body in his hands, his larger frame caging you against the cold tile while he peppers kisses all along your neck and across your chest.Â
His cock is heavy between his legs, leaking, throbbing but what he needs right now isnât a quick release. Itâs not what either of you need. You need to feel each other, love each other, finally hold each other in the most intimate way possible.Â
When he finally gets you spread out on his bed, he wantsÂ
âMy good luck charmâ He coos, kissing your lips softly while rubbing his swollen tip against your folds, gathering your slick before pressing it against your entrance.Â
âJamesâ You grip onto his thick shoulders, legs wrapped around his tapered waist, moaning into his neck as he starts to push inside. Once heâs fully inside you, he doesnât move, the both of you lost with each others lips while your flutter around him, your tongue laced with his.Â
âMissed you angelâ He rasps as he starts to move, slow, deep thrusts, ones you can feel in your soul. He barely pulls out, pressing in as deep as he can, letting you feel his tip rub and kiss that sensitive spot only he can reach. His hips push you into the mattress, his heavy body comforting on top of you.Â
âMissed you tooâ You cling around him with your arms and legs, your hand moving to card through his hair, grazing his scalp while he moans, his face just above yours. Your lips brush each other, eyes locked together while he starts speed up slightly, his skin flushed.Â
âFeels-feels so good Bucky!â Your pussy convulses and clenches around him, whimpering at the way he stretches, you out, the way his body heat keeps you warm, the way you feel so safe under him, the way he feels inside you; no one else makes you feel the way he does. Everything about him makes your heart flutter, from the way he looks delectable when heâs on the field to when heâs all soft and sweet just for you.Â
âYou deserve it babygirl, you deserve to feel so so goodâ He kisses your forehead, admiring the angel underneath him, the only person who can lift him up when heâs down, who cheers him on when heâs been at his lowest, who makes him feel so good, so loved, itâs almost overwhelming how much he adores you.Â
âMy pretty little cheerleaderâ His whispers against your lips, playfully nipping them between his teeth.Â
âWanna ride youâ You place your hands on his chest, wanting to make him feel good, take care of him when itâs his night, make him cum so hard, he forgets his own name.Â
âTake what you want babyâ He gently rolls over, keeping his cock in you, letting you adjust yourself, his jaw slack when you start to move, slowly rising and sinking down on his cock. He guides your hips, softly gripping the flesh while you start to move faster, your clit rubbing against the patch of curls at the base of his cock.Â
âYouâre so fucking prettyâ He moans out, your breasts bouncing in his face, a thin sheen of sweat sparkling against your skin, your knitted brows and chewed lip making it hard for him to keep it together. You looks so perfect riding him and he loves that you want to make him feel good but he has to show you how much you mean to him. You cheer him on everyday and this is your night for him to return the favour.Â
âCâmere babyâ He pulls you flush against his chest, his large hand splayed across your back, arms wrapped around your body. His feel plant against the mattress as he starts to thrust up, his balls hitting your ass with each stroke. You cry out, your arousal nearly squirting out of you as he pounds into you, no longer holding back. You bite down onto his shoulder, marking him, his cock hitting you even deeper at the feeling. âThats-thatâs it sweetgirl, let me make you feel goodâ
âJamesss,s-supposed to be taking care of youâ You pout but it doesnât last for long with how good heâs making you feel, thereâs no way youâll ask him to stop.Â
âShhh, shhh, I got you, go a head and cum for me baby, let-fuckkk-let goâ Heâs rubbing your back, his firm fingers easing the soreness and tensions away from your muscles, moving in a way that matches his strokes. You can feel him everywhere, desperately holding off, your orgasm ready to snap.
âC-cum with meâ You stutter out, tears threatening to spill from your lash line, pleasure overwhelming you.Â
âTogether-together babyâ He lets out a breathless moan, you can feel his muscles tense underneath you. Heâs holding onto you for dear life, he loves you, loves making love to you, you were it for him. âFuck-baby-gonna cumâ
His desperate voice makes you sob, your nails pressing into his skin. He canât hold it anymore, his balls feeling too heavy, too sensitive, too full of cum to hold off anymore, ropes of cum starting to pump you full.Â
âOh fuck mâcumming, cum with me y/n, câmon, cum, soak my cock babyâ His head is thrown against the pillow, moaning, overstimulating himself feeling your juices mix with his. You cry out with him, your pussy milking for every drop of cum he has, your walls clenching around his swollen and sensitive length. He sloppily thrusts into you until the sheets are a mess, his cock soft, the both of you a panting mess, cuddled under the sheets.Â
He strokes your hair while you rest on his chest, falling for you even more when he has you like this. The only man to be able to see you, tired from pleasure, skin warm from sex; he loves the little soft snores you make while you nuzzle against him.Â
âRest up pretty girl, mânot done with you yetâÂ
Anyway, let me get back to my 10000 wips, bruh that number isnt even a joke anymore.Â
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almost believing
summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
word count: 5.4k
warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe
prompt: fake dating, baby đ title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.
a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!
masterlist | read on ao3
Hereâs the thing: Itâs supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.
After all, itâs Buckyâs last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.
Well, itâs not like itâs going to make a difference to how much youâre seeing him, to be honest.
Youâre not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.
"Sorry, Iâm heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, Iâm already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA youâd been talking about for ages.
But it doesnât stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly thereâs always something more important than the two of you hanging out.
Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. Youâre fine. The two of you are fine.
Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, thoughâwhich has always been movie night, always, every week since you met himâyou know that somethingâs wrong.
"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.
"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.
For like a week.
"I just donât know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.
"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "Iâm not doing this. Nuh-uh."
"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.
"I donât know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.
"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.
"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, youâre getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.
Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each otherâs couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. Youâd even been starting to imagine that there might be something âŠ
Clearly, you were wrong.
Now, you canât even look at him without your throat closing up. Itâs like you woke up a few weeks ago and heâs become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.
He didnât even tell you that heâd signed up for a transfer.
The mission call feels like your last chance.
A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You couldâve hugged Fury for the opportunity.
That is, until youâre handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before youâre supposed to leave.
"Youâre joking," you say as soon as you open the door.
"Great, youâre here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasnât my idea or my decision, but I also think itâs the best directive for what youâre trying to do, and c) no, thereâs no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"
Bucky deliberately doesnât meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you canât decipher. He doesnât even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.
You purse your lips and join the staring.
Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been ⊠strained"âyou almost laugh at thatâ"but itâs just one night."
"We need to pretend weâre married," you say. "Howâre we going to pull that off if he canât stand being in the same room as me?"
"I trust that there wonât be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesnât get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.
"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.
Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that youâre not privy to. You roll your eyes.
"Iâll see you later."
You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.
For a moment, youâre tempted to barge into Natashaâs office next, but you have a feeling like sheâd just give you another one of her looks again, which really wonât better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.
Surely, thereâs some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but youâre not laughing.
Usually, before a mission, youâd get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You havenât done that in a while, but youâre still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.
Instead, thereâs just your lockscreen picture of Buckyâs grinning face that you canât bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. Itâs almost a year old, now, back when youâd taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no oneâs gonna recognize you, look at that great cap youâre wearing".
Itâd started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and heâd kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.
Thatâs when youâd realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.
You need to change your lockscreen.
***
Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. Heâs leaning against the opposite wall like heâs been waiting for you, and it stings because thatâs what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings werenât quite so hopeless.
Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.
"Look, I donât want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But itâs a two-person job."
He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."
"Do you think youâre gonna be alright with us pretending weâre madly in love for a whole evening?"
Buckyâs jaw tightens. "Iâll be fine."
Of course heâs going to be fine.
You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."
"You didnât do anything." If heâs telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?
For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you donât. You just stare at him in silence, hoping heâll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.
"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"
Thereâs the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though itâs not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least heâs trying, you suppose.
"Letâs just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.
"Iâve got something for you."
You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. Thereâs a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearanceâs sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.
Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.
"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You donât even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.
"Try it on, then."
Itâs a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. Itâs not you at all. Then again, itâs not supposed to be you.
Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.
"That couldnât look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."
He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.
This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. Itâs a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but itâs so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.
Buckyâs mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "Thatâs better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.
"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.
"Mhm."
Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you donât really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.
You stand there in silence for a moment, and itâs only then that both of you realize heâs still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesnât sting.
"How come you donât get a ring?" you ask.
"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, thereâs a ring on his hand as well.
You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, thereâs no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.
"Itâs fake," you say. "Itâs not the same."
"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."
You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that youâve said this time, but itâs pointless anyway. Heâs not going to tell you even if you asked.
Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.
***
"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "Weâre just gathering intel, nothing else."
"I just wanted to have you say it again so weâre all clear. You both love taking risks when itâs not necessary."
"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.
You canât even blame him for the nervous habit; youâve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.
This isnât the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, itâs not even the first time youâve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.
Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.
"I think weâre going to attract a lot of attention if we donât get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.
You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.
Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Letâs go."
The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.
"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."
You lightly slap Buckyâs chest in fake indignation. Itâs quick thinking on his part, really.
When youâre checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.
Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.
When he looks at you like this, itâs so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?
But of course, thatâs not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.
So how come it doesnât feel fake to you at all?
***
You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.
It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though heâs just putting on a show for the band of creeps youâre tasked to keep an eye on.
But damn if heâs not good at it.
Itâs amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like youâre the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish heâd look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks itâs getting everything itâs ever hoped for.
Hearts are often stupid like that.
A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.
Thereâs a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize heâs no longer the only one whoâs looking at you.
You chuckle nervously. "Iâm sorry, I got ⊠distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"
"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. Heâs a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.
Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "Weâve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.
Itâd been Tonyâs idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. Itâs a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.
Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that youâd entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.
That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.
"You seem to be doing something right if youâre both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.
"Iâm the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "Itâs hard not to do the right thing, then."
He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something youâre sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Donât fall asleep on me."
You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if heâd said something inappropriate, and because heâs always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.
Itâs not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.
"Kind of tacky, donât you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.
"Maybe a little," you say.
The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.
Itâs the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.
He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "Iâm gonna go check out the terrace."
You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.
"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss ⊠Winter, was it?"
"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."
"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I donât suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"
Your mind is racing. If sheâs here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.
"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"
"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "Itâs all rather exciting."
"Iâm sure. These kinds of events are all very ⊠shiny." She looks into your eyes and thereâs an almost explicit warning written in hers. "Itâs surprisingly easy to get blinded."
You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If youâll excuse me, I think I see someone âŠ"
You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesnât follow you.
For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.
"You must tell us, whatâs your secret?"
"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.
"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I donât think heâs looked away from you once since you joined us."
You steal a look around your shoulder. Sheâs right. Buckyâs gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.
He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.
Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.
"I donât know what to tell you," you say. "Heâs just ⊠always been like this. I mean, heâs my best friend. I really donât know what I would do without him."
Thereâs not a word of a lie in what youâre saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.
"Dance with me?"
You flinch, turning to look at Buckyâs outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.
You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.
"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."
"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you donât think heâs heard you.
Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.
You barely know the steps, but heâs a great leader, and he doesnât say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.
"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.
"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe itâs true.
You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didnât mean the dancing."
With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."
The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like heâs just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like youâre at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.
You wrap both hands around his neck as youâre swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.
Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.
"Itâs time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.
Youâd almost forgotten about the mission.
"Val is here," you say quietly.
His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"
"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows weâre here."
"Why didnât you say something?"
"I ⊠There wasnât time."
"Weâre just gonna have to be quick and discrete."
You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.
The plan is almost laughably simple, but itâs probably going to work out just as youâve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator thatâs going to take you up to a bedroom.
Or, more specifically, to a bedroom thatâs being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.
You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Buckyâs hand more tightly.
He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There arenât any cameras in the elevator, but youâre both pretty sure there will be on the floor youâre going. "CIA exposure, thatâs exactly what we needed."
"There was nothing I couldâve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.
"Iâm not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, Iâm gonna shoot first and ask questions later."
"No, you wonât," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didnât bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.
"Maybe Iâll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."
The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.
You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. Thereâs no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.
You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.
Suddenly, Buckyâs hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.
He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Buckyâs eyes flit around madly, like heâs trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since youâve known him, is left without ideas.
You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.
"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.
Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.
You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what heâs doing, even though he swallows your gasp.
In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.
"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me weâre being shadowed."
Buckyâs mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.
"Itâd have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."
You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Letâs finish this, then."
***
Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.
Your lips are still tingling with it.
Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesnât just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.
"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you canât help it.
Your defenses shoot up again.
"I donât know what youâre talking about," you say, squinting.
"Yes, you do." Heâs lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words heâs looking for. "I shouldnât have kissed you, not with ⊠Not like that."
"Like you said, the guy wouldâve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.
"Doesnât make it right."
"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you shouldâve talked to me before? Well, Iâm kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."
"Y/Nâ"
"No, really, itâs fine. Like I said, youâre leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didnât tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."
"You know why Iâm leaving."
"No, I fucking donât!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but youâve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you justâone day you decided you were done with me and that was it."
He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously donât remember."
"Donât remember what?!"
"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."
The memory rushes through you so violently itâs almost ridiculous you hadnât thought about it in months.
Youâd just come back from another undercover op, and youâd called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.
"You should talk to him. Be honest."
"No, Nat, come on, I canâtâI canât do that to him. I canât risk ⊠you know, heâs my best friend. And thatâs all it can ever be. I donât want to ruin what we have. I just wish heâd make it easier."
"Youâre making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, donât you think?"
"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But youâre so âŠ"
"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? Thatâs what this is about, isnât it? Thatâs why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."
"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.
"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."
"Youâre the one who wouldnât just tell me."
"Well, now you know anyway and Iâm sure once youâre off to Cairo or wherever the fuck theyâre going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact thatâ"
"Love?"
"I mean, obviously?!"
"You ⊠youâre in love ⊠with me?" Thereâs something very soft and vulnerable in Buckyâs eyes.
"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"
"I thought you hated me."
You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"
"Thatâs why I gave you space, I thought ⊠but then âŠ" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, Iâve been in love with you for years."
It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"
Buckyâs eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "Iâm so sorry, IâI got it all wrong, I was justâI thought you know and you didnât see me like that and thatâs why I âŠ"
"You âŠ?" you say, still not quite comprehending whatâs going on.
His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring youâre still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.
"I donât understand," you whisper.
"Please tell me I didnât fuck this up completely."
This time, youâre the one to lean in.
Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that youâre allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and youâre home again.
You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.
The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, weâre gonna break this up until youâre back in your own quarters, I donât want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."
You break up with a snort.
"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but heâs still smiling as wide as youâve ever seen him do.
You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."
"Of what?"
"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."
Bucky groans and shuts you up again.
(A few years later, you get the ring back.)
happy holidays, y'all đ thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!
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Build a blurb hehehe! đ©č tending to each other's wounds, đȘ showing up at the other's door, begging for comfort, đŻ friends to lovers, đ„ slow burn - Enjoy >:3
heal me, baby
summary: Your friendship starts with you cleaning up his wounds and Bucky paying to get the blood stains out of your couch. Something else starts, too.
pairing: bucky barnes x nurse!reader
word count: 2.6k
warnings: canon typical violence, some fluff, s.h.i.e.l.d. still exists AU, protective bucky strikes again
a/n: lisha heard me request prompts to write something short and decided to go with slow burn. thanks for that, love. happy easter and joyous pesach to those of you who celebrate, i hope you're all well <3
masterlist | read on ao3
The first time it happened, heâd been shot.
Itâs how youâd first met him, actually, because heâd been so out of it with blood loss he tried to break down your door instead of his ownâwhich was one floor up, but you didnât find that out until laterâand when youâd finally stopped screaming in his face, he just collapsed in your hallway.
When he woke up again, youâd just finished bandaging up his wounds, moving on to cleaning the scratches on his face.
âYour hands are very soft,â he said, still delirious. You were used to strange comments from your patients at the hospital, so youâd just rolled your eyes.
âYouâre paying to get the blood stains out of my couch.â
He did. In fact, he tried to get you a whole new couch, but you liked the one you already had.
âThank you,â he told you for the twentieth time as you helped him up to his apartment the next morning. His wounds had already started to close. âThis really isnât necessary.â
âNurseâs orders,â you replied sternly and kept your grip on his arm until you reached his front door. No welcome mat, no seasonal decorations, not even his name next to the bell.
He coughed, as if there was anything to be embarrassed about now. âIâm Bucky, by the way.â
You nodded politely. âI know.â That arm did him no favors when it came to staying anonymous.
There was a quiet scratching coming from the other side of the door, but his eyes didnât stray from yours. They looked pretty, you supposed, when they werenât glazed over in pain. âAnd do I get your name?â
âWith the receipt from my dry cleaning.â
His low chuckle followed you back downstairs.
The second time wasnât nearly as bad. In fact, his knock on your door was so tentative you wouldnât even have heard it had you not just walked by the door one last time to check the locks before bed.
âSorry,â he said as soon as you cracked the door open. âIâm kinda out of thread?â
The gash in his palm was deep, but not bad by any standards; still, you could understand why heâd be cautious with wounds on his right side. He didnât even flinch once as you stitched him up.
âYouâre a good patient,â you told him, pulling the knot tight.
Bucky huffed quietly. âAll your good patients show up on your doorstep in the middle of the night?â
âNo,â you shrugged, setting your tools aside for sterilization. âBut thereâs gotta be something that makes you special, right?â
There was something akin to a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth right as you turned away.
âI owe you,â he called after you.
You raised your brows. âYou wanna repay me for a bit of suture?â
âAnd your professional craftsmanship,â Bucky said. âDâyou think I could do stitches that neat with my left hand?â
Honestly, yes. But if he insisted âŠ
âI have Saturday night off,â you said. âHow about a takeout?â
His grin widened a fraction. âWeâre talkinâ food, right?â
âYes,â you laughed. âFor now.â
You werenât sure whether to expect him to join you on Saturday, but he showed up on your doorstep at 6 p.m. sharp, completely unharmed this time. Instead, he was carrying several plastic bags full of food.
âI wasnât sure what to get, so âŠâ he muttered once youâd stopped laughing and showed him into the kitchen.
âSo you got everything?â You eyed the containers of food, all steaming and smelling divine. âAre we expecting seven more?â
âWe?â He sounded so genuinely surprised that you shook your head at him incredulously.
âYou donât expect me to eat all of this on my own!â You took plates and cutlery for two out of your cupboards. âIâm pretty sure I owe you now, Bucky.â
Another tentative smile formed on his face, again a bit wider than the last one youâd seen. You wondered how long it would take you to get a full laugh.
It became a habit, you bandaging up whatever wounds he got on his latest mission and the two of you sharing takeout on your nights off, some movie the background noise to your chatting. In the beginning, it was mostly you talking, telling him about work, about your friends, asking only few questions about his life. It took Bucky a couple of weeks to open up on his own. To relax his shoulders where he was sitting, until he slouched into your couch almost as casually as you did.
Bucky was easy to talk to, you realized quickly, because he was a great listener. It didnât take you much longer to notice how your stomach would twist and your lungs would constrict whenever he looked at you, whenever his smile grew another fraction of an inch.
You didnât need your degree to tell you what those symptoms meant.
But he needed a friend more than he needed to be rushed into anything, and so you bit your tongue and you said nothing.
***
The problems really started when S.H.I.E.L.D. decided to hire you as, essentially, a freelance nurse to go in the field with a crew when they were short a doctor.
âAbsolutely not,â Bucky argued until he was hoarse, with you, with Fury, with Rogers, with anyone who would listen.
You still went. Frankly, the pay was better than what you earned after three years at the hospital.
Then again, they didnât really put you into actually dangerous situations at the hospital.
The first mission you were sent on together mostly consisted of awkward silence, Bucky still fuming about the fact that you were coming along, and that heâd been unable to put a stop to it, you still rolling your eyes about the fact that he was angry about all of that.
Of course, it turned out that they barely needed you, anyway. You stayed out of the building, and the rest of the team did all the dirtywork while you sat around in the quinjet and waited. There was a fight; you heard the shouts and the shots, and the barked commands the comms. When they made their way back, though, sticky with soot and sweat, the most painful thing you had to fix was a cut on agent Romanoffâs temple.
Still, that night when you sat down, you found your hands almost shaking with relief that itâd been that easy.
Bucky had a key at that point, from when heâd offered to water your plants while you went to see your parents during your vacation days a few months back, but you didnât expect him to come that night. Didnât expect to hear his knuckles softly rapping against the doorframe, because he always knocked, even though he had a key. Didnât expect his slow, heavy steps in the hallway. Didnât expect him sinking to his knees in front of the couch, in front of you, as if his strength had finally given out all at once. Didnât expect his eyes drinking you in, tracing every inch of your skin as if to prove to himself that you were unharmed.
You shivered, even though he didnât touch you.
He was never the one to reach out first, instead preferring to stare at you in silence, like a man drowning. So you did it for him.
He must have heard your heart thundering in your breast when you pulled him into your embrace, but he still didnât speak. He just held onto you like you were his lifeline, and not for the first time you wondered what lies the demons in his head sprouted.
âIâm fine,â you whispered into his hair, carding your fingers through it. âIâm here.â
Every mission after went much the same, the only thing different each time the amount of time he needed until he could find his voice again. Until he could start believing your words.
âIâm sorry,â he said, again and again.
Every single time, you answered, âDonât be.â
***
The first time it went badly, it was a mission Bucky hadnât been on.
You didnât get hurt then, either, not physically at least, but some of the agents they carried past you ... fuck. It felt worse than it did in the hospital, because there, you could depend on equipment being sterile and well-stocked. Out in the field, there was no such luck.
Your eyes mustâve looked empty, but maybe he just chalked it up to exhaustion. To your usual empathy with anyone in pain. Or maybe youâd gotten good at hiding things from him.
But sleep didnât find you that night.
Every time you closed your eyes, you were back out there, fighting to keep agents alive and whole while they still struggled to get the jet up in the air. You kept tossing and turning, trying to shut the memories out, but it was no use.
And then your feet started moving on their own accord, out of your bedroom, out of your apartment, quickly, before you could overthink this, up the stairs, stopping only in front of Buckyâs door, your hand raised to knock softly against his frame like youâd heard him do countless times.
It swung open.
Your vision went slightly unfocused when Bucky stood in front of you, chest on full display. Your gaze crept up slowly, too slowly, following the chain of his dog tags to his neck, his chin, his eyes. A slight blush had spread on his cheeks.
âHey.â He sounded as ruffled as you felt.
âHi,â you replied weakly. âI âŠâ
Your mind was blank, devoid of all coherent thought.
âCanât sleep?â Bucky offered and you nodded, even though you werenât even sure anymore what force had brought you here in the middle of the night.
You looked down again, stopping yourself at the scars on his left shoulder. Youâd never seen them up close. Heâd never allowed you to, no matter how badly he was bleeding. Bucky tensed when he noticed your transfixion.
The scars trailed towards the center of his chest like they were pointing at his still beating heart, red and harsh and beautiful. Proof that despite everything, he was still alive. Despite everything, he still chose to be better, no, to be good every day.
It brought tears to your eyes.
âDoes it hurt?â you asked, not daring to look at his face.
âYeah,â he said, because he knew youâd call him out on a lie. His voice was rough around the edges. You wanted to wrap it in the softest linens. âAt night, mostly.â
Youâd usually tell him the reason for that, the medical explanation, but your brain was still empty. Bucky just stared at you, waiting. You drew a shuddering, deliberate breath.
âToday was bad.â
He took a step to the side and let you in.
Alpine immediately darted towards you, running between your legs until you picked her up and pressed her against your chest, inhaling deeply into her fur. Cautiously, you followed Bucky through the hallway to where he wordlessly held another door open for you.
Youâd been to his bedroom before, to watch movies or to just spend time with each other when you both had nothing else to do, but this ⊠this felt different, somehow.
You rolled into a tight ball on his bed, careful not to take up too much space as he crawled in next to you and pulled the blanket over both of you. It smelled like a gentle hug.
âDo you want to talk about it?â was the only thing he asked, and you shook your head. âTry to close your eyes.â
You fell asleep swiftly, contently, and when you woke up hours later, you found yourself tucked closely to Buckyâs chest, his metal arm wrapped tightly around you, warm from sleep. Alpine had curled up on your pillow, her fluffy tail resting on your head.
You smiled and snuggled closer.
***
His problem with the missions, he told you, wasnât that you were going per se, it was that he wasnât able to keep an eye on you at all times. Naturally, it was worse when you were assigned to leave and he wasnât.
âI have a bad feeling about this one,â he murmured when he came to see you off.
âIâll be fine, Buck,â you said lightly. He only hugged you more tightly, only letting go when Steve shouted his name for the third time. They had their own plane to catch. So you smiled at him. âPromise.â
He reached out to pull a piece of hair out of your face, his fingertips gently grazing your temple before he pressed a featherlight kiss to your hairline. You froze, staring at him with big eyes. Bucky took a step back.
âJust be careful, alright?â
You couldnât do anything but nod, turning your head over your shoulder over and over again until you took the final step up the gangway. His eyes stayed fixed on you the entire time.
The second it went badly, when you heard your leg snap, you felt the regret of your own broken promise through the searing pain.
And then the world went black.
You came to when they pulled you out from under the rubble, your leg still twisted at an awful angle, your forehead warm and sticky. The way back had you going in and out of consciousness over and over again, only vague impressions sticking in your mind. The way your seatbelt was tugged just too tightly around your waist. The way the jet shook when it landed, and how you cried out because it meant your leg moved. The shouting outside.
When you woke up in the med ward, theyâd already put you in plaster and disinfected your head. You blinked against the horrible white lights until you could make out Bucky in the chair next to your bed, still dirty and roughed up from his own mission, holding your hand tightly in his own.
âYour hands are very soft,â you said with a tired smile.
He shot you a weary glance, but didnât let go. Instead, he just moved closer, helping you to sit upright. âHow are you feeling?â
âCould be worse,â you said, wincing slightly when you tried to move your leg.
He was so careful when he sat down on the bed next to you, as if he were terrified of breaking you further. When he wrapped his arms around you, you noticed he was shaking slightly.
âIâm sorry,â you whispered.
âDonât be,â he said, pressing his forehead to yours. âI justâwhen they told me, for a second I thought I lost you, and I couldnât ⊠I canât âŠâ
And something in you broke, the dam of butterflies seemingly exploding. You sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes fluttering shut. âI need âŠâ
You could feel Buckyâs unsteady breath against your lips. âAnything.â
So you kissed him.
His arms tightened around you when he answered your kiss with just as much fervor, as if he, too, needed to reassure himself that this was real, this was happening. He tasted faintly like dust and blood. You didnât care.
Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging him closer, closer, until your need for air left you gasping. You had no intentions of moving away already, though. Neither did he.
âIâm fine,â you murmured between kisses. âIâm here.â
When you finally retreated far enough to see his face, your heart almost burst out of your chest.
Bucky smiled at you, as brightly as the sun, eyes incredulous and sparkling with happiness. You thought youâd never seen anyone look this beautiful before in your life.
And then he laughed, and you knew.
thank you for reading!! i'm currently self-isolating, so if you could be awesome and leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed this, that'd be absolutely grand. it'd be my social interaction of the day đ if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!
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Keep your eyes on the road (aka an unexpected sex pollen adventure)
Summary: Honestly, this is what Bucky gets for not listening to you.
Characters: Bucky x Reader
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: SMUT 18+ only. Oral sex while driving, sex pollen, sex in a car, bad language, Bucky desperately needing to bang. Also please do not try to replicate this unless you are in fact with a super soldier who has super reflexes, as blow jobs while driving should probably be attempted by super people.Â
A/N: Is this really my first time writing sex pollen? Yes it is. Is Bucky being needy and desperate kinda fun? Yes it is. Did I enjoy writing this? Yes I most certainly did. I hope you enjoy it too. ;)
*****
The thing is, you told him you didnât feel like coming on this mission.
And you told him not to open that container with the giant blood red skull on it.Â
And you told him to to wear a mask.
And you told him to let you drive, but he shouted something about you being a passenger princess before unceremoniously shoving you in the getaway car.
So yeah. You told him all these things.
The thing is, Bucky fumes, glaring at the swerve of headlights advancing in his rearview mirror - he really needs to learn how to fucking listen. Â
âShit, shit, shit!â He slams the accelerator to the floor and the car gives a sickening lurch. Beside him, you crack your head on the window, trying to buckle your seatbelt and swearing at the top of your lungs.Â
âBucky what the hellâs the matter with you? Just drive.âÂ
âIâm trying,â he snaps. He can feel the flushing prickle of sweat beading down his neck. Rubbing a shaking hand down his face, he blows out a harsh breath. âWhy in godâs name is the heater on? Turn that shit off, Iâm burning up over here.â
Craning your neck, you watch the headlights gaining. Fumbling for the Glock taped under the seat, you shoot him a confused look.Â
âThe heater isnât on, itâs freezing in here. I told Steve to fix it and he ignored me because he's a giant asshole.â
Eyes locked on the road, Bucky reaches blindly for the window handle, hurriedly rolling it down. A blast of cold air rushes through the car and he gulps in relief.
âBetter, much better,â he mutters. He squints into the rearview mirror again, mentally calculating the time between headlights and taillights, when he feels a twisting wrench in his chest. It sends bursts of heat skimming under his skin, snagging every nerve along the way. A panicked whine slips through clenched teeth. Alarmed, you turn back and meet his wild eyes, sweat now pouring down his face. Â
âWhat the - whatâs wrong? Bucky? Talk to me!âÂ
When you grab his arm, he visibly recoils.Â
âNo no no, donât touch me, donât - ah holy fuck, donât touch me. If you do, I canât - Iâm gonna put the car in the ditch.âÂ
âYouâre scaring me Bucky, what is this?â
He says nothing, deep in thought as his brain runs through the mission on warp speed, trying to identify something, anything, that could possibly -
Wait.
Oh.
Crap.
It's like a sucker punch when he realizes.
âThe gold dust that flew out of that container, did any of it touch you?â
âYou mean the one I told you not to open but you did it anyway because you canât follow directions? Bucky what is wrong, you need-â
âAnswer me,â he snarls. In the dashboard glow, you see his face pale. He blinks rapidly, trying to focus. âSorry, sorry, just - please answer. Did any of it get on your skin?â
Baffled, you shake your head.
âNo. None of it touched me, it just hit you.âÂ
Bucky nods, relieved.Â
âGood, okay. Okay. Think I know what this is,â he grits out. Another shudder wracks his body and he grips the steering wheel so hard it squeals in protest. âHRNE-75.â
Your response is a blank stare.
âAm I supposed to know what random letters and numbers mean?â
âItâs a stimulant.âÂ
âLike caffeine?â
âNo, like a drug.â You can hear him breathing faster. âLike a - like an aphrodisiac.â
Still a blank stare.
âWhat kind of aphrodisiac?â
âPeople call it sex pollen,â he says flatly. âIt makes you horny. Like - really fucking horny. And it hurts like hell unless you do something about it.â
âWell, okay. Weâll figure that out when we get home, but for now - â
âI canât - I donât think I can wait until we get home,â he interrupts. Sweat soaks the collar of his shirt and he shifts uncomfortably, glancing down. Following his gaze, you can see his cock straining against his jeans.Â
âJesus Christ. Bucky if youâre in pain, just pull over and let me drive, you can jerk off in the backseat.â
âWe donât have time to pull over, that fuckerâs right behind us and if we donât get us past Steveâs stupid check point, weâre gonna lose him and then the whole mission is wasted and I got sprayed by some bullshit horny dust for no reason and Iâm sweating so much right now and I think Iâm going to throw up, my dick hurts so fucking bad!âÂ
His voice reaches an hysterical pitch and you press your lips together, choking down the laughter.Â
âOkay okay, I got it. So if you come, does that stop the pain?â
âYeah, but doesnât matter,â his shoulders slump miserably. âWe canât stop yet and I canât jerk off and drive at the same time. Maybe under normal circumstances I could do it, I mean sure I have done that before because sometimes I get bored driving, but I just donât have that kind of focus right now baby, I donât.âÂ
Tremors are rattling through his entire body now, as he fights for control. As he shifts his hips, unconsciously searching for some kind of friction to offer relief, an idea pops into your brain.  Â
âHey. Let me give you road head.âÂ
His hands slip on the wheel and he double-takes.Â
âWha - road head? Like - what does that mean? Like youâd give me a blow job? While Iâm driving?â
If this were any other situation, you would tease him mercilessly for the way his voice squeaks, but you smother the urge. Plenty of time for that later. Â
âOf course. If it helps.â
âBut you mean, youâre going to suck my dick? While Iâm driving?â
âLove the emphasis on the important words. Yes, Iâm going to suck your dick, while youâre driving.â
Bucky bats the idea around, debating whether youâre actually serious and whether he is probably definitely going to drive down a highway at - he checks the speedometer - 145 miles per hour, while you suck his dick. Another wave of heat roils through him and he stifles a groan. Glancing at your expectant face, he gives a shaky nod.
âYouâre sure?â
Rolling your eyes, you unbuckle your seatbelt and scoot closer to him.
âItâs not a hardship Buck. You know Iâm your dickâs number one fan.â Carefully popping the button on his jeans, you tug down his zipper and he pushes up his hips, struggling to help. The slight pressure on his aching cock already has him whimpering. âJust drive careful, alright? If I die because you wreck Steveâs car while Iâm sucking your dick, Iâll never hear the end of it.â
âYeah, yeah, fine,â Bucky breathes. âCareful. Sure. Whatever you say.â
Grasping him firmly, you lower your head and take his dick all the way down in one smooth move.
âOh my fucking god,â he shouts, eyes fluttering. âSweet shit thatâs good!âÂ
He keeps one hand in a death grip on the wheel, while he places the other against the back of your neck, keeping you firmly in place. Bobbing up and down, your tongue strokes along the ridges of his cock and you feel him swelling impossibly thicker. Tightening your lips, you suck hard, dragging slowly up and he croaks out a garbled plea. Â
âKeep going, keep going, please keep going.â Beneath your practiced mouth, his entire body begins to vibrate and he grips the back of your neck tight, chanting desperately. âIâm gonna come, Iâm gonna come, holy fuck, Iâm gonna come.â
He thrusts up, holding your head tight as he comes down your throat. When your fingers scratch along his thigh, his foot inadvertently pushes the accelerator harder. The car climbs to 155 miles per hour and above you, the sound of ragged panting fills the car.Â
Releasing his dick with a soft lick, you look up and Bucky chokes at the sight of your spit slick, swollen lips curving into a smile.
âThat was fast. Feel better?â
He breathes a whispered yes, but you can still see the red flush still spreading down his neck. He swallows hard and grimaces. Â
âHelped. Definitely helped. Still hurts, but better,â he says faintly and you see his cock is still rock hard. âItâs okay, itâs enough for now, I appreciate the - â
Rolling your eyes, you lean down and take him back in your mouth. Slipping a hand between his legs, your fingers carefully cup the heavy weight of his balls, squeezing gently. The rest of his sentence fades, melting into a rush of fervent praise.
A luscious ache settles in your belly, feeding off the hot desire you feel sparking through him, at the filthy words you hear him whispering above you. If you werenât driving down a pitch black highway at a completely inappropriate speed, youâd consider reaching down to take care of yourself, but since youâre already flouting the most basic rules of automotive safety, you figure you should keep your hands on Buckyâs balls instead.
Of course, that doesnât stop you from rubbing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure.Â
Bucky glances over at your movement, a deep growl rumbling in his chest at the sight. He didnât think anything could make him harder at this point, but the image of you so turned on by giving him a blow job, does the trick. He grinds his teeth, dangerously close to just pulling over and saying fuck this ridiculous mission. Rubbing his hand between your flexing shoulder blades and slowly bobbing head, his rasping voice carves into you.
âDoes this make you feel good? Doinâ this for me? Fuck me, wish I could help you out right now. Youâre so damn good to me baby. Moment we stop this car, Iâm gonna fuck you so good.â
With his dick buried deep in your throat, your enthusiastic hum of agreement vibrates deliciously and he struggles to keep his eyes on the road. Everything feels incredible. Your tongue curling around the head of his cock, sucking gently on the tip, before sliding back down. The way you swallow around him, the squeeze of your throat, so hot and slick and tight. It feels so god damn good and heâs close again, one more second -Â
The transmitter sitting in the console squawks to life, an ear piercing siren shocking you both from the lust fueled haze. You jerk off Buckyâs dick in a panic and he nearly screeches at the loss. Scrabbling with the device, he smashes the green TALK button.
âWhat?! What the fuck do you need, Iâm busy.â
âCalm down there, speed racer,â comes Steveâs breezy voice. âJust letting you know we pulled the guy over. Turn around and come back so we can - â
Steveâs voice is abruptly silenced when Bucky crushes the transmitter with an easy squeeze of vibranium fingers. He flings the shattered splinters of plastic into the back seat and slams both feet on the brakes. The car fishtailes across the road, before skidding to a stop in a spray of gravel. Throwing it into park, he flips the lever under his seat and slides back with a mechanical thunk. Scrambling to pull his pants down all the way, he spreads his legs wide and takes his dick in hand. His eyes are dark, blown black when he turns to you.
âWeâre safe. Get your pants off and get over here. Now.â he barks.Â
Grinning at him, you tug on your tac pants, shimmying easily from the stretchy black fabric and clambering into his lap. There is no pretense. Bucky lines himself up and yanks you down, filling your cunt in one rough thrust. Youâre so wet, he slides in easy.Â
âGod, Bucky,â you hiss. âThat feels so good.â
He tugs on your shirt, pulling everything off until your breasts are bared. His mouth finds a nipple, teeth gently scrapping and tugging, greedily sucking the sensitive peak between his lips. He moves your hips faster, lifting and dragging you down on his cock over and over, until he jerks you down one final time, slams his head against the seat and comes with a long, guttural moan. Deep inside, you feel him pulsing over and over, until you can feel it dripping down your thighs, hot and sticky.Â
Head tipped back, he struggles to catch his breath and you can see his heartbeat jumping wildly at his throat. When he finally opens his eyes to meet your questioning stare, you can see.
His eyes are still dark.Â
âNeed more?â You smile gently, smoothing sweaty hair from his forehead.
He swallows hard and then nods slowly. Â
Rocking your hips, you grind down on him and lean in for a deep kiss, sliding your tongue against his. Bucky gives a shuddering sigh, sinking back into the feel of your body rolling against his. Warm hands stroke lightly down your spine and you can feel the thick, heavy weight of him growing hard again between your legs. But waring with the pleasure, a nervous tension seems to grip him.
âBucky. Iâm not made of glass,â you admonish. Licking delicately along his earlobe, he mumbles a string of apologies and your lips trail down his neck, pressing a kiss against that fluttering heartbeat. âYou wonât hurt me, I promise. Use me however you need. Make yourself feel good. Just make me come before youâre done. Deal?â
âYeah. Yeah, okay,â he says, shivering uncontrollably at the heady combination of your cool breath and fiery words. âI can do that. âCourse Iâll do that.â
His hands slide up your back and hook over your shoulders, his fingers splayed over your collarbone. He holds your body firmly in place, thrusting up into you and simultaneously rocking your hips forward. The angle is perfect and you moan at the feel, dizzy with desire as his cock rubs that spot inside just right.Â
The sounds filling the car are purely pornographic. Wet skin slapping, Bucky grunting with every hard snap of his hips. The feel of his calloused fingertips stroking up your belly, between your breasts, pressing divots into your skin. He stares up at you, his eyes heavy and hooded and utterly adoring, relishing the sight of you grinding your pussy against him. His hand slips between your legs, stroking over your clit, rubbing fast tight circles. He smugly drinks down the breathless gasps he coaxes from you. Â
âBucky, I think - I think Iâm - â
The words falter when your hand slams into the car roof and your head falls back, eyes drifting closed. Lust slaps him hard as he watches you come, writhing above him, your voice cracking when you moan out his name again and again. Â
âThat's it, there you go baby,â he whispers roughly. The vision is breathtaking. Stunning. He figures maybe he could get used to sex pollen and a perpetually aching dick if it means he gets to see you like this.
He was already close (again), but the pure pleasure in your face is enough to knock him over the edge. He buries his face between your breasts, pinching your nipple and licking over your skin and your fingers tangle in his damp hair. You hold him tight as he gasps out your name, emptying himself inside you one more time.
And this time, finally, you can feel some of the spring tight tension disappear. His skin is still hot, but the shivers begin to diminish. Rough hands still grip your hips, but it feels controlled. The manic lust begins to fade, leaving a smoldering fire in his chest. Â
Bucky tips a weary head back and meets your amused expression. A smile tugs the corner of his lips and he shakes his head.Â
âGod damn,â he sighs.
Scratching your nails lazily along his scalp, he leans into your touch, humming like a contented, if slightly feral, kitten.Â
âFeel better?â
âSo much better,â he murmurs. âSorry that went completely sideways. Wasnât really expecting that. Obviously enjoyed it, but still. Unexpected adventure.â
Pressing a kiss to his forehead you laugh.
âNext time, maybe donât open the can with the giant red skull on it. Deal?â
âDeal.â
A comfortable silence settles. Bucky trails his fingers down your arms and you eye him thoughtfully.
âSo, do you think theyâll come looking for us?â
âMaybe. Eventually. What should we do while we wait?â
There is a moments pause. And then you begin to roll your hips against him again and Bucky feels the electricity flare to life once more.
âWe keep going.â
*****
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Hiiii Loveeeeeeee
I am in LOVE with the Untouched AU..
and i was wondering, would Bucky ever suggest maybe some anal play?
maybe he brings the idea up to you, and you think heâs talking about your ass and when he sees you get all panicked heâs just âno no no, bubs, i wanna play around with mineâ
maybe start with a plug⊠move up to fingers⊠then maybe a strap? đđ
Iâm gonna see myself out-
18+Â
AY SEE YOURSELF BACK IN RN. I only changed a little here and there, build his curiosity a bit after some play time with you first. We love our inexperienced babies trying new things together. Also I didnât mean for this to get this filthy or long and I deeply apologize for what youâre about to see if you decide to read this.Â
Warnings: anal play (f & m), M masturbation, use of toys, All the smut and fluff with switch!College!Bucky, as always I love him desperate, needy, feral and filthy all in one. His mouth is a warning cause I live for horny desperate Buckyâs dirty talking.Â
-
âLet me prep you babyâ Bucky grabbed the bottle of lube, squeezing some onto his fingers. You shuddered while he hummed, his eyes trailing up and down your naked body while you laid spread out for him. Bucky had looked like a puppy when he first brought it up, too shy to even get the worse out until you some got it out of him and what he wanted to try.Â
Heâd wanted this for a while. Whenever he was wrapped up in your wet warmth, he couldnât help but wonder what it would feel like if he filled you up there. How tight it would be, what it would feel like, how beautiful youâd sound for him.
You felt your body heat up like it was on fire; no one had ever touched you there, fuck you hadnât touched yourself like that there either. Still, you couldnât resist how badly you wanted it too and there was no one else you trusted more than him.Â
You yelped at the feel of the cold gel, instinctively closing your legs while Bucky chuckled, his other hand soothingly rubbing your thigh, gently spreading your legs open again.
âIt okay baby, open up for meâ He rubbed gently circles on your tight ring of muscle while you felt your face heat up at the foreign sensation. âYou feel okay?âÂ
âKeep going James Please?â Your breath hitching in your throat feeling nervous. Bucky could feel you twitch against his finger, his cock jumping against his briefs.Â
âMâgonna go slow, okay? Breathe for me babyâ He slowly breeched your hole with his middle finger, stopping at the first knuckle to check on you. âStill okay doll?â You nodded, gasping when he pushed in a little further, pulling back slightly, the muscles in your body tensed.Â
âShhh, breathe, thatâs itâ He kept gently rubbing your thigh while he continued to gently push his finger in and out, âRelax for me sweetheart, doing so good for me baby, does it hurt?âÂ
âN-no, feels goodâ You whimpered, the strange feeling slowly melting into something pleasurable when he went a little deeper, slightly curling his finger âO-oh fuckâÂ
âCan I add another baby?â He continued to build up a comfortable rhythm till he felt your body relax, before he carefully slipped a second finger into you. You hissed at the slight discomfort which quickly went away with how gently he was being with you.Â
âYouâre so tight sweets, donât know if Iâll fit in youâ He breathed out, his own heart racing at the way you were wrapped around his middle and ring finger, your pretty little moans making his cock wet. He couldnât help but moan himself at the way your hips squirmed on the bed, the way your back slightly arched off the bed, the way your jaw was slack.Â
Angelic.Â
âBuckyyyâ You whined, your eyes dropping to where he cockhead nearly poked out of the waistband of his briefs, hard and desperate for relief. You clenched around his fingers, needing to be filled by him.Â
âWhat is it angelâÂ
âI-Iâm readyâ
âAre you sure?â
You nodded, giving him grabby hands so you could slip his boxers off; it didnât matter how many times you had seen him naked, he was always a sight to behold. He kneeled in front of you, having you sit up with him, pulling you into his lap for a moment.Â
âI promise Iâll be gentle but we can stop any time if it hurts you dollâ Bucky cupped your face to make sure your eyes were locked with his, heâd never do anything that hurt you. âPromise youâll tell me if you want to stop?âÂ
âPromise bubbaâ You leaned up to kiss him before lying back down again while Bucky grabbed the lube again, spreading more on your ass before smearing it over the length of his cock. He gave it a few tugs before guiding you to on all fours, with your ass up and face against the mattress. The sight alone caused drops of precum to drip onto your skin. You bit your lip at the feeling of his blunt tip catch against your hole, rubbing the lube around more, his other hand resting on your hip.Â
âAre you ready for me baby?âÂ
âMhmâ You wiggled your hips teasingly, both of your hearts beating erratically as he gripped his cock, pressing the head and starting to push inside. The second his tip breeched your hole, Bucky knew he was screwed, your sweet tightness nearly choking his cock and he wasnât even fully in you yet.Â
âOh godâ his head was thrown back, your body sucking his cock in, âyour ass is so fucking tight, what the fuck-â
âBuckyyâ Your voice was muffled, burying your face into the pillow, clutching onto the sheets, your body squirming at the unfamiliar sensation.Â
âYou okay sweets?â He stilled his movements, panting, his cock throbbing, desperate to spill into you. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to calm the way he was twitching but he had 0 control over how badly he wanted to-needed to- cum hard and deep inside you. âYou want me to keep going?â You nodded, relaxing your body, slowly started to feel the stretch melt into pleasure.
âBreathe for me doll, relax for meâ His eyes rolled back, hissing as he pulled back slowly before filling you up again. He set a slow pace, letting you get used to the stretch, his hands bruising your skin with how hard he was gripping you.
âYouâre so so fucking right, I-holy fuckkâ His voice dropped to a whimper, stroking up and down your spine, soothing the ache from his thick length. âYouâre such a good girl for me baby, making me feel so goodâ His head was thrown back, jaw slack, how the hell did you feel so good. âY/nâŠsâtoo sensitive, mâ not gonna last babyâÂ
âIts-it-s okay, cum for me babyâ You were too turned on to care, the way he sounded was enough to make you feel satisfied. Your entire body buzzed with anticipation, feeling every throb and twitch deep in your walls, pulling him back in each time he pulled back.Â
âMâgonna fill this pretty ass with my cum baby, I canât stopâ He moaned louder, both hands grabbing your ass. âI-fuck itâs so tight, squeezing the fuck out of my cock doll, mâgonna cum okay? Fuck I promise I'll make you cum after but I canât hold it right now-shitshittt Iâm cumming, mâfucking cummingâ You could feel him his warm cum pump you full, while he grinded his hips so he was still deep inside you, grunting each time more cum spilled from the tip.
âOh fuckâ Bucky whimpered, his pink cock overly sensitive and throbbing against his tummy as he slumped over on your bed, his body drained.Â
âYou feel okay doll?â Bucky rolled you over, brushing the hair that clung to your face, kissing your forehead and checking to see if you were in pain. âDid sâgood for me angel, does anything hurt?âÂ
âMâokayâ You whispered, your body still felt like live wire between the slight soreness you felt and your throbbing clit. Bucky smirked at the way you clenching your thighs together, crawling down you body until he was face to face with your dripping cunt. He placed a sloppy messy kiss onto your clit, tossing your legs over his shoulders.Â
âTime for me to take care of you babygirlâÂ
A few weeks later
Bucky blinked, his unable to take his eyes off the video he had clicked onto, not realizing he was stroking his cock faster, breaths getting heavier. He wasnât exactly new to porn but this was certainly something new to him. He knew people were into this, but he didnât realize heâd be into it. Until now. He watched the girl wrap the guys thighs around her waist while she filled him up with a strap on, pumping his ass while stroking his cock. Bucky didnât even realize he was moaning, feet planting on the bed, thrusting into his hand, blowing his load all over his chest, reality sinking in after his post orgasmic haze cleared.
He wanted it.Â
He needed it.Â
Bucky bit his lip, wondering how heâd bring this up with you, he knew you wouldnât judge him but it still felt a little risky to bring up.Â
A few days later
âSooo...â
âSpit it out Bucky, youâve been hiding something all weekâ You playfully rolled your eyes while he let out the breath he was holding, sitting on the edge of your bed with you.Â
âI um...I saw something I wanted to tryâ
âJust tell me babyâ Â
âWould you-would you want to try more anal play...with.me?â Bucky played with his fingers, his cheeks blushing furiously, âLike...you play with me?âÂ
Your stomach erupted into butterflies, your pussy already starting to drip, why would you not want to try something that would make him feel good. You tilted his chin to look at you, kissing his nose softly, making him blush more.Â
âIs that all baby, you want me to play with you there?â You cooed, your thumb caressing his cheek while he shyly nodded. Bucky had always taken perfect care of you and you were more than excited to give him the same love, care and pleasure he craved so badly (you may or may not have already read up on how to please a guy there because curiosity had gotten the best of you while you were reading a spicy article)Â
You pulled him to lie down on your pillows, helping him strip his clothes off until you were both bare, kissing down his body while he felt his breath hitch his in throat, his leaky cock making a mess.Â
âJust relax for me babyâ You whispered, taking his cock down your throat, licking up his precum before pulling off and running your tongue down his shaft to his balls. You moaned at his salty taste, rolling them against your tongue, smiling to yourself as he spread his legs further for you.Â
âTell me if this is okayâ You whispered, kissing below his balls, licking and pressing your thumb in soft circles around the area making his body jolt at the sensation. You smiled to yourself, applying more pressure.Â
âFuck-f-fuckkâ he could only contain his whines for so long, each time you licked and pressed against his perineum was too much, he needed you there. âNeed you doll, need itâÂ
âOpen up for me baby boyâ You cooed, your stomach clenching over the way his eyes locked with yours as he spread his thighs apart for you. You squeezed the lube onto your fingers, gently spreading it around his tight hole, loving the way you could already feel him clenching against your fingertips.
âWant it dollâ He whined again, his bottom lip red from how much heâd chewed it.Â
Greedy baby.Â
âShh, Iâm right here babyâ You pushed your finger in slowly, stopping at the first knuckle, giving him some time to adjust before going further. âYou okay James?â You carded your fingers through his hair, stroking his forehead while he whined, his greedy hole begging for more.Â
âFeels good baby, moreâ
âMore?âÂ
He nodded, holding his thighs apart for you, letting out the breath he was holding as you pushed your finger in further, a throatily groan slipping past his lips.Â
âOh fuckkkkkâ He closed his eyes, relaxing his muscles so you could move faster, the feeling of your finger pushing in and out of him was unmatched. He moved his hand down to grasp onto his cock, squeezing the base so he wouldnât cum too soon. âCan you-can you add another finger baby?â
âAre you sure Bucky?â
âStretch me dollâ He shuddered, desperate to feel full with your pretty fingers. You grabbed more lube before carefully inching inside him again, a deep satisfied groan dripping from his lips.Â
âThatâs-fuck thatâs it, fuck it feels goodâ Bucky started to lazily stroke his cock, barely applying any pressure because he knew he would blow his load. You licked your lips at the beautiful sight before you, his legs spread apart for you while he played with himself, with pretty moans he couldnât contain. You wanted more though. You wanted to give him pleasure where he wouldnât have any self-control or restraint.Â
âWhat if I-â You bit your lip, pushing your fingers deeper in him, crooking them slightly, pressing and stroking his prostate, and-
âOH FUCCKKKKKKKâ
Oh he liked that.
âGOD FUCKâÂ
He liked that a lot.
âYESâ
âYESYESâ
âY/N RIGHT THERE, DONâT-DONâT FUCKING STOPâÂ
You moaned at how sexy he looked, massaging his prostate, bending down to take his swollen cockhead in your mouth. Bucky grabbed onto the sheets, his legs shaking, he couldnât stop it even if he wanted to, the second your silky tongue licked over his slit, he was done for.Â
âIM CUMMNG FUCKâÂ
Your eyes grew wide, swallowing the ropes of cum that kept throbbing out of his cock. You kept working your fingers faster to ride him through his high, gently suckling his tip to catch every drop.Â
âItâs-its soo sensitive-too sensitive-oh my godâ Bucky was a babbling mess, whining when he felt empty again, his eyes still shut as he lay on the bed panting. You quickly cleaned your hands off, grabbing a damp cloth to wipe Bucky down as well, careful not to touch him anywhere where heâd be too sensitive.Â
âBubba come back to me, are you okay?â You kissed his sweaty forehead, giggling over the way his eyes took a moment to focus again, his vision hazy. âHi babyâÂ
âHoly. shitâ Bucky breathed out, his chest still heavying. âThat was...shitâ He chuckled, still reeling over the most intense orgasm heâd ever felt, it was almost an out of body experience and that was just from your fingers.Â
That started it. The absolute craving Bucky had for more.Â
You continued to use just your fingers with him, getting him used to the stretch, sometimes using two fingers and when he was very relaxed youâd even try three. Eventually you asked him if he was ready to try toys to which he immediately agreed too. All shyness disappeared the second the cool metal slipped into his tight hole; just when he thought fucking you couldn't feel better, this increased every sensation he felt but 100. Â
His orgasm nearly lasted minutes.Â
Bucky slept like a baby for the rest of the day, comfortably cuddled up in your arms.Â
He loved your fingers and the toy was nice but he knew what he really needed.Â
*****
âAre you sure about this Buck?â You tightened the straps of the strap on, the toy hanging heavy between your legs. Your pussy clenched over the way it was just about the same size as Bucky, your thighs a sticky mess just looking at the way he had his legs apart for you. You wanted to give him as much pleasure as possible but you also wanted to make sure itâd actually feel good and not hurt him.Â
âVery babyâ He shot you a wink; he found your concern adorable and it just made his cock harder âI trust you angelâÂ
Bucky reached over, grabbing the lube and spreading some onto his finger, rubbing it around his tight hole, and pushing his finger in with ease.Â
âSee? All ready for you sweetsâÂ
You nearly whimpered at the sight of him touching himself like that, making a mental note to suggest mutual masturbation later. You spread lube all over the toy before spreading a bit more over him, your other hand stroking his thigh.Â
âYou ready?â You pressed the tip of the toy against him, locking your eyes with his.Â
âIâm ready babyâ Bucky lifted his legs slightly while you started to push the toy inside him, your eyes still connected with his. You both moaned together; nothing was more gorgeous than the way his head was thrown back against the pillows, his brows furrowed, a deep flush covering his skin.Â
âOh god Angel what are you doing to me, FUCKâ You could see goose bumps erupt over his skin, his nipples hardening, muscles pulled taut. You pushed the fake cock about half way in, pausing to let him used to the feeling, âYou okay baby?âÂ
âYes, st-stretch meâ Bucky groaned, his cock jumping against his tummy as you continued to slowly sheath yourself inside him, âDonât stop, keep going, I wanna feel you fuck my g-spot babyâ
You braced yourself, slowly moving your hips until you found a comfortable rhythm, thrusting in and out of him, watching in awe at the way he opened up for you.Â
âYEah-yeah like that, thatâs it, good girl, fuck baby youâre stretching me sâgoodâ The stretch was unlike anything else he had ever felt before, his ass pulling the toy right back in every time you pulled out.Â
âYouâre so tight Buckyâ You could feel the way he gripped around you, making you have to use more force to fuck in, his greedy needy hole begging for you to go faster.Â
âYeah baby, you like stretching my t-tight hole huh? You like forcing my ass open for you? My pretty angel stretching my tight ass so goodâÂ
You were both moaning messes, desperate for different reasons.Â
âMâso wet, fuck Buckyyyâ You whined, getting off at how much pleasure you were giving your boyfriend, every moan making your clit throb, your slick starting to cover your thighs.Â
âShit, you like that doll? you like making me feel good?â He smirked at how focused you were, rolling your hips perfectly, wanting to make him scream. âCause youâre doing perfect princess, see?â He took your hand, wrapping it around his aching length, giving it a few soft strokes before letting go and letting it slap against his tummy âSo fuckinâ hard baby, swollen, itâs so god damn sensitive, Iâll blow without you touching meâÂ
You swiped your finger over his soaked tip, sucking off the precum that pooled onto his tummy making him shudder, his cock throbbing again.Â
âBaby touch-touch my ballsâ He whined, nearly crying when you gave them a gentle squeeze, holding onto them as you continued to fuck him.Â
âYou like that baby?â You panted, giving his cock a few tugs before focusing back on thrusting into him as deeply as possible, You angled your hips, gripping onto his legs to brace yourself, fucking him harder, the tip of the cock hitting his prostate.Â
Bucky hooked his hands under the back of his knees, spreading himself wider for you, his eyes squeezed shut, tears streaking down his face as you pounded him, your stomach flipping when he let out the most pornographic moan youâd ever heard.Â
âOh FUCK I can feel it in my ballsâ Bucky could feel his balls throb, pulled tight to his body, spurts of precum starting to dribble down the sides of his stomach, onto the sheets. âYouâre gonna make me cum baby, gonna make me cum without even touching myselfâ
You could see the ripple and tensing of his muscles, his cock swelling as you fucked him hard, barely pulling out, keeping it deep inside him.Â
âBabygirl, pound me, câmon, Iâm gonna make such a mess for youâ He forced his eyes open, blown with lust and teary from how turned on he was, no one had ever made him feel this good.Â
âMake a mess Buckyâ You moaned with him, not tearing your eyes away from his.Â
âF-fuck, sâgood, itâs so good, I needed this, keep hitting my g-spot baby, pleaseplaseplease, push your cock deep in my ass baby, fuck Iâm gonna bustâ You could tell he was close, finding it hard to move, his body gripping onto you with a vice like grip, clenching and sucking the cock back in. âFUCK YES, Oh god mâgonna cum on your cock doll, câmon fuck me fuck my ass till I cumâÂ
You slammed into him, ignoring the way your pussy was screaming to be filled, your jaw slack at the way his cock bounced.Â
âI-IâM CUMMING, HNNG, HNNNGG FUCKKKâ Thick ropes of cum burst from his sensitive head, covering his chest and abs without you even touching him, his own hands still holding his legs apart for you. âDonât-donât stop baby, fuck me till my balls and cock are empty, thereâs so much cum, I canât hold itâÂ
Bucky had been reduced to a babbling mess, his head lolling to the side, tears soaking the pillow, his chest heaving while he continued to cum, his abs covered in his cream.Â
âOh fuck why wonât it stop, fuck me slowly baby? Please? I want it, just-mâso sesntive, slow down a littleâ You cooed, gently thrusting into him, his length jumping each time you pushed in. You made sure you didnât go deep this time, helping him through his high. âThatâs perfectâ Bucky panted, his eyes hazy as he gazed at you, his body limp while you hardly pushed in and out of him, your hand gently stroking his thighs while he cock slowly dripped.Â
âFucckkk baabyy, look how much mâcumming for youâ His legs dropped to his sides while he closed his eyes, completely drained. You carefully pulled out of him when his orgasm came to a stop, helping him clean off with a warm cloth and cuddling him close to you while he rested. You kissed his forehead as he nuzzled into your chest, humming contently. Â
âYouâre so good doll, come hereâ Bucky shifted so he was on top of you, showering you with kisses. Your eyes grew wide as he spread you legs open, his cock already hard again, nudging against your pussy,Â
âJames-
âshhhhâ
âOh fuckkkkkâ You moaned, as he pushed his cock into your sopping wet hole, grinning at how wet you were.Â
âYou didnât think we were done, did you?âÂ
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One in a trillion
Summary: Bucky is sterile.
Or, so they had been told, that was basically what he was.
There was a one in a trillion chance of them ever conceiving, completely impossible.
And yet, a positive pregnancy test.
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Word Count: ~15k
Warnings: Pregnancy related sicknesses, blood, pregnancy related anxiety, talk of abortions, smut (only under the heading week 20 so you can skip that part if you'd like), lots and lots of fluff, protective Bucky
A/N: The long promised pregnancy fic. This was a true labor to write. Please let me know what you think!
Week 6 - Discovery
She stares at the test in her hands, disbelieving.
Something heavy floats up from her belly to rest heavily in the back of her throat, but she refuses to cry.
A little pink plus to change everything staring back at her.
What would Bucky say?
What could he say?
They had been together for years, linked at hip and heart, never separated for long. Was she not a bit jaded, she might call them soulmates.
They werenât married, had decided long ago that it didnât matter, they didnât want to go through the ceremony of it. They were together and that was all that mattered, matched in soul and purpose.
A piece of paper proclaiming it to be true didnât make it anymore real.
But marriage is different than a child.
A child is complicated. A child is something that theyâve never talked about, have never even considered. The possibility isnât supposed to even exist.
Bucky is sterile.
Or, so they had been told, that was basically what he was.
There was a one in a trillion chance of them ever conceiving, completely impossible.
With odds like those, why bother with contraception? Why bother with pills and implants and condoms if they didnât have to?
So they never talked about it. They never thought that they had to. Somehow, through everything they shared, adoption and being a parent had never come up either.
An absurd laugh bubbles up to her lips suddenly, they thought they knew everything about each other. And yet, this. This glaring hole of importance, this blind spot in their all knowingness of their universe together.
She paces the bathroom for minutes, maybe hours, her shadow chasing her along the tile under the glow of the overhead light. Eventually, she comes up short, staring at herself in the mirror above the sink.
Does she look different? Did knowing make one look so haggard with worry? He would be able to see her anxiety, but would he know the source?
Would some minute change in her biology reveal the truth to his enhanced senses? He was so watchful of her, so careful, surely he would look at her and know everything.
She turns from the mirror abruptly and goes to the kitchen, positive pregnancy test still clutched in her hand, gets a glass of water, and then leaves it on the counter to sit on the couch.
Sweat coats her palms, her thoughts racing and leaping to conclusions not reached by any kind of logic.
Would he think she cheated on him, with chances like those? Would he believe heâs the father, with chances like those?
He would believe her, sheâs sure. Bucky has never disbelieved her in anything.
Sheâs still clutching the test between her fingers when the door to their apartment opens.
Bucky smiles at her as she swallows hard and meets his eyes, not returning the grin. Thereâs no point in hiding it, no point in dragging it out.
âWe need to talk,â she whispers and his smile fades away, like the sun behind a cloud.
~
Bucky twists his fingers together, metal and flesh, and listens to the clock on the wall tick away the minutes of his life. Itâs been three days since Y/N had told him she was pregnant, three days since she said she needed time to think, that they should both take time to think.
Three days since his heart dropped out of his chest, since he left to stay with Steve while she took the time she needed.
To think about what, he had been too afraid to ask, too consumed with guilt and panic. Guilt that this is his fault, panic that she wonât want him around anymore.
Maybe sheâll break it off with him.
Maybe sheâs too afraid to tell him she doesnât want that thing inside her, the thing he unknowingly planted there and left to fester.
Maybe she does want it, maybe she realized the taint of the father could not transfer to something that would also come from the pureness of her, sun drenched and overflowing with love. That even he canât make a monster out of a new life.
Maybe she does want the baby, but maybe she doesnât want him around, some deep buried maternal instinct already shouting at her that sheâs chosen wrong, that heâs wrong to have a child with.
But she checks in with him once a day via text message, otherwise he would have lost his mind after the first day, worried, anxious, sick without her around in a way that screams co-dependence.
Y/N has never minded his clinginess and so he hadnât worried about it. Not until this, not until now.
It was good while it lasted, he supposes, this time he was allowed with his heart, the love of his life, the very center of his soul. He should have known that he wouldnât be allowed to keep her forever.
When has he ever been allowed to hang onto anything good anyways?
Heâs always been the cruel universeâs plaything, his life a puppet on a stage.
âHave you actually talked to her about any of this?â Steve asks, his arms crossed over his chest, Sam mirroring him where he leans against the kitchen counter.
âShe said she needed time to think,â he repeats, gazing down at his wrist, at the tattoo of her initials etched there in dark ink, tracking his metal thumb over it delicately. The miracle tattoo that they had been surprised stuck to him at all. He remembers the way she grinned at him, offering up her own wrist to the artist for a tattoo of her own.
âAnd I didnât want to take that from her,â he finishes, blinking away the memory. He wonât take anything more from her than he already has. The look on her face when she had told him had not been one of joy, or even neutrality. Instead, fear had been written on her face.
Naked fear, terror, as she told him in a trembling voice, her hands shaking.
Bucky, Iâm pregnant.
âAnd you took this immediately to mean that she wants to end things with you?â He looks up sharply, glaring at Sam. âIâm just sayinâ. Did she actually say that to you or are you interpreting âneeds time to thinkâ as âI want to break upâ?â
âWhat else could she mean? Its my fault sheâs pregnant and-,â
âTakes two to tango, Bucky.â
He shakes his head, squeezes his fingers until they go white and bloodless, until his bones start to ache. If he snaps his own wrist with metal fingers, how quickly would it heal? He releases his hand, blood stinging as it returns to his hand. âYou didnât see the look on her face, like she was staring down death. I didnât think I could...I thought I was infertile.â
He pauses, and shakes his head, âWhich is what I told her. She thought I was sterile. She probably would have never if she knew-,â Hotblooded anger traces a betraying finger through his chest, warming him from the inside out, âI didnât think I could do this to her.â
I didnât think I could lose her this way.
âWe all thought that,â Steve agrees before a silence stretches between the three of them again. âListen, I donât think she would have...I love Y/N but I have to ask...I donât want to suggest-,â
Steve stops, stares down at his socked feet, clearly not sure how to continue and regretting having tried to begin.
âSpit it out, Steve,â Bucky snaps, suddenly acutely aware of what heâs about to ask.
He sighs and bites the bullet, âIt's just so unlikely, Buck. Is there any chance it isnât yours?â
âNone,â he snarls, the thing in his chest that bloomed protection and love rearing up, the thing that caged his heart waiting to pounce in a bout of defense. âAbsolutely none.â She wouldnât do that to him, she who wears love and devotion on her face like a beacon. Bucky pauses and reigns his anger in, blowing out a hot breath. Steve is just trying to help, he tells himself.
âI know her,â he murmurs. âShe didnât. Its just karma fucking with me again. Too good to be true. One in a trillion chance, and it happens. And now she has to make this decision, whatever it is. Because of me. I should have insisted we use condoms,â He pauses, watching for a moment as Steveâs ears go pink.
Sam rolls his eyes, âCâmon, man, this isnât something you did, it isnât fate, it's just something that happened. You gotta deal with it now, one way or another. Sitting around here, moping to us isnât going to help anything and it really isnât going to make her feel like you arenât already jumping ship if she isnât thinking about breaking it off.â
Buckyâs eyes jump away from Steveâs spreading blush to focus on Sam. âWhat the hell are you talking about, Sam?â He growls, testy and edgy, worried about Y/N more than he ever has been before, reverting back to the anxious, worried person he had been years ago. He hasnât felt this anxious since he first met Y/N.
Sam softens a little, âLook, Bucky, Iâve seen how she looks at you, like youâre some kind of miracle walking. And while I donât personally understand or share the sentiment at all, I donât think sheâs going anywhere.â He shrugs, âAnd if youâre here with us, you arenât there with her. Maybe she needed time to think, but you donât know about what. The longer youâre away, the more it might seem like maybe youâre realizing something too.â
Before Sam has even finished speaking, Bucky has grabbed his jacket and keys and is slamming Steveâs front door shut behind him.
Whatever sheâs thinking about, he wonât let her believe sheâs unwanted, that he wonât stand by her no matter what.
~
Bucky finds her on their living room floor sorting through their old photographs. He quietly toes his boots off by the door, snapping the lock into place behind him.
Some of the pictures are recently taken polaroids, printed cell phone photos, and professional shots, mixed in with pictures that the Smithsonian had given him a while back, old, faded, yellow. The Howlies, his mother and sister, him and Steve, Brooklyn, home.
One of the more recent polaroids features him lying in bed, arm slung over his eyes, grin peeking out from under his elbow. Sun is slanted over him, the sheet slung low on his hips.
It makes him a little sick to look at, his own happiness, what he must have looked like to Y/N when she took the photo. He remembers her naked and smiling, perched delicately beside him as she held the camera up.
He swallows thickly and starts toward her, purposefully heavy in his steps so he doesnât startle her.
She has two piles going and for a moment Bucky thinks sheâs picking his out of the stack, separating their things already, before he circles the couch and realizes he has no idea what categories either of the photos could be going into. He sits behind her on the couch, watching over her shoulder for a moment as she decides on the photo in her hands, a printed groupshot of Sam, Steve, and Natasha at a bar in Manhattan.
It goes into the left pile, on top of a picture of the street he grew up on.
Heâs still frowning at the piles when she glances back and up at him. A smile shifts onto his lips almost immediately. He canât help it, not when sheâs looking at him like that, like he shifts the balance of her whole world, like he wrote the stars into the sky. âWhat are you up to, doll?â
She transfers a picture of the two of them together at the top of the Coney Island ferris wheel to the pile with the group shot. âOrganizing. I want to hang up our pictures but some of them arenât exactly...for the public eye.â To illustrate her point she holds up the next photo, a semi-nude pinup photo of her that had been a gift to him during their second year together.
She slides the photo on top of the shot of him in bed.
âGonna put some of them up in the living room, the rest weâll keep to ourselves,â she winks, a gentle smile on her face. The knot in his chest loosens just a little with the knowledge that she saw them together far enough into the future that she would bother hanging up their photos. âBut hey, youâre back.â Y/N wiggles back so her side presses into his leg
âThink I wouldnât, doll?â he asks, trying for lightness.
âWell,â she says, turning to face him fully, elbows on the couch cushion next to him, her eyes clear and curious. âYou were gone for three days.â
Bucky presses his flesh thumb to the hinge of her jaw, tracing a path down her cheek before settling his thumb in the center of her bottom lip, delicate in all endeavors Y/N. âYa didnât ask me to come home. I was trying to give ya the space you wanted.â
She leans into his palm, settling her chin there and tilting closer, closing her eyes against his flesh so he feels the flutter of her lashes against his wrist. A tiny kiss is pressed to the pad of his thumb gently. The trust she places in him always manages to surprise him just a little, her whole heart given over to him without hesitation. âYes, and you did,â she agrees. âYouâre so frustratingly accommodating sometimes. But I didnât want to tell you to come home before you were ready. I thought maybe you needed some time too. It's...a lot to take in. Itâs a shock, I know. Neither of us expected this.â
A cold finger traces up his spine suddenly, an unnamed, unknown fear sinking talons into the fleshy, soft parts of his soul that Y/N has managed to pry open. Its stupid, he thinks, considering heâs one of the most dangerous people on the planet, but it never occurred to him that he could lose her to something that heâs done.
Bucky had promised himself heâd never do anything to make her leave, would never let anything take her away from him besides by her own will, would never let harm come to her, that he would protect and care for her as long as she allowed.
The one promise he had granted himself to believe he could keep, he had inadvertently broken.
The dread and guilt rise up again, and nearly swallow him whole, biting cold teeth into the meat of his ribs.
âIâd do anything you asked me to, darlinâ,â Bucky leans down, pressing his forehead to hers, desperate for contact after days spent apart. âWhat did ya think about while I was gone?â
She reaches up to take his other hand, slotting their fingers together against the sofa. âI thought a lot about you, and how much I missed you. Thought about what we should do.â
He whispers her name, fingers tightening on hers carefully, shame clawing its way up his throat to settle heavily on his tongue. âListen, doll, I-I swear I didn't know. I-we...everyone thought I wouldnât be able to...if I had thought that there was even a chance I would have insisted we use protection. I should have anyways but-,â
But when one of you was sterile and you were only sleeping with each other, what was the point?
He takes a deep breath, squeezing her hand, âI just want you ta know Iâm sorry for putting you in this position.â
âBucky,â she says gently, pulling away from his hand on her chin to look up into his eyes. She searches his gaze for a long moment before something like understanding filters in. âHelp me up?â
He immediately tugs her up from the floor, one arm circling her waist as she settles next to him on the couch, pressing herself as tightly as she can to his side, crossing her legs over his lap. Bucky nudges his nose against her temple, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin, relishing the contact, not sure if it might be ripped away. âHoney, do you think I...what? Blame you for this?â Y/N ducks her head, forcing him to meet her eyes as she slowly reaches up to cradle his face between her hands, thumbs sweeping over the shadows beneath his eyes. Bucky doesnât sleep well without her anymore, the last few nights hell.
His silence speaks for him, betraying every guilty thought heâs had since she told him, every self-accusation and recrimination swirling in his mind for the last three days.
Eventually, when she doesnât move, doesnât look away, waiting patiently for a response, he nods slowly against her hands, averting his eyes but not able to make himself pull away, her skin against his is like air to a drowning man.
More than needed. Necessary.
He pats her thigh nervously where her legs rest in his lap, wondering if heâs about to have his worst fears confirmed.
âNo,â she says, pinching his chin between her thumb and index finger, forcing him to flick his eyes back to her, demanding in that soft way of hers. She pulls herself closer to him, her other hand finding the back of his neck, forcing him to press his forehead against hers. Eye to eye, focused on nothing but him, she says. âNo. I wanted to think, with a clear head, about whether I - about what would be best for us. For me and you. Iâve never thought about kids with any kind of seriousness and-,â
Bucky swallows, nodding against her as he smooths a comforting hand over her thigh, trying to calm her, trying to soothe himself too, tuning out whatever sheâs actually saying, much too nervous to actually listen to her.
Maybe she hadnât been thinking about blame, he thinks, but he was right either way - sheâs thinking about her future now, about whether belonging to a hundred year old formerly brainwashed ex-assassin is really the best life choice sheâs ever made. âYou gotta do whatâs best for you, Y/N,â he hears himself murmur from a distance, interrupting whatever she had been saying.
He winces at his own words. God, when had he turned into such a fucking mess again?
âBucky,â she says, her voice a quiet demand, digging her fingers into the collar of his shirt to shake him gently. âI know where your head is at. Iâm not going anywhere. Donât take all that guilt and let it weigh on you. This isnât something to bear guilt for, this isnât your fault. This is something we did together. It's something we gotta figure out together. I just...I just needed to know what I really thought about it, without you around to cloud my judgement.â
He swallows around the gravel in his throat, focusing on the warmth of her curling around him, not letting him back down, not letting him retreat.
Itâs exactly what he needs. No one else is able to manage him, and manhandle him when needed, like her.
But she said together.
They would do this, whatever it was, whatever he had missed her saying, together.
âDo I cloud your judgement, darlinâ?â he manages to ask with a weak chuckle, tentative relief flooding him, drowning his blood in cottony warmth, together running circles around his mind.
She presses her nose to his cheek, one hand moving to cup a palm against his neck, âYes, you know you do, dummy.â Y/N swallows against him. âTell me where your head is at.â
âThough you were breakinâ in off, sweetheart,â he admits.
âNot yet,â she quips.
âYet?â
She tucks herself under his arm, nestling close and Bucky obliges her by pulling her impossibly closer. âNever,â she corrects. âNever. Only if you really piss me off.â
For a moment, heâs reassured. This is a solvable problem, one they would work out together. She isnât sending him off into the dark alone yet. âWell if accidentally getting you pregnant doesnât do it, probably nothing will,â he snarks, self deprecating.
A smile unfolds against his neck when she buries her face there. Relief floods him at the feel of her smile against his skin, before she nips gently at the pulse in his throat. âShut up, you ass.â
A laugh startles out of him. âAlright, darlinâ.â
Bucky pulls away from her to meet her eyes again, tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb, before he takes a deep breath and says, âListen doll, I just want ya to know Iâm not going anywhere, whatever decision you make. Iâm not going anywhere, not unless you tell me to go.â
She glances down, taking his other hand in hers, pressing her thumb into the center of his metal palm, comforting despite the feeling being slightly removed from himself. âI wanna know what you want to do,â she says, almost shy about it.
Heâs already shaking his head, âItâs you thatâs going to have to be pregnant, Y/N. Or itâll be you thatâll have to go through an abortion. Youâre gonna have to do all the heavy lifting here, no matter what. It's your body, it's your health. I donât want to take that away from you.â
Never, he could never do that to her. Not after everything that had been done to his body without his consent. Bucky would never demand anything from her.
âI know. Bucky, I know. I know you wouldnât do that to me. But I still want to know what you think, even if we donât have the same ideal situation in mind.â She smiles at him. âSpeaking of health though, I spoke to Dr. Cho and Bruce about this. Nice to have such smart people on speed dial. Maybe you wanna hear what they had to say first?â
His brows furrow, mouth tilting down, wondering why sheâd spoken with them at all. âWhy? Whatâd they say?â
She gives him a tight smile, anxiety immediately returning with a vengeance, worming its way into his heart, choking the air out of his chest. âWhat, doll?â
âWell, I had a few questions about carrying if thatâs what we decide to do. Because...I assume it wonât be a normal pregnancy,â she squeezes his hand, reassuring and warm. âAnd they confirmed and said that if I decide to carry it might be a difficult pregnancy. Might be,â she emphasizes. âThere may be complications but they arenât totally sure becauseâŠwell because this has never happened before.â
The anxiety again already firmly lodged in his throat melts into dread, horror, a cold hand dragging it down into the pit of acid that is his stomach. Before he can ask she continues on, âMeaning that it might be high risk for me and for the baby. Because of the-because of the-,â
âBecause of me. The serum,â he murmurs, unable to look her in the eyes suddenly. He may have passed it on to the baby, and by proxy Y/N.
You did this to her, whispers the cruel voice that makes him doubt, that still taunts him despite the years and progress heâs made, despite the man heâs become, the voice that he hasnât heard in years, happiness eating away at it. You did this to her. Youâre going to kill her just like they killed you.
âYes. A little supersoldier could be a bit to handle. Though theyâre not sure if it would even be an issue since thereâs never been a super kid before. Itâs also possible everything will be totally normal. Totally fine.â
She giggles, smiling a little, but Bucky canât laugh, canât think of anything other than the world ending, of losing Y/N.
All he can hear is Y/N saying high risk and complications like they werenât earth shattering words.
All he can think of is the word might and how everything might be totally fine, but it also might not be.
âWhat would we need to do?â He asks, not sure why. He should just tell her no, that his opinion is to get rid of it and be done with it, that nothingâs worth the risk of something happening to her.
âRest,â she answers calmly. âLots and lots of tests, lots of doctorâs appointments. Minimal stress. Probably a strict, heavy diet.â
âHeavy?â His brain feels itchy, like thereâs some thought he canât quite pull at, a ribbon to unravel. A web spins out in front of him, too many threads to follow, all the possibilities in front of them. Complications and fears are certain, joy and wonder a thing that remained to be seen. Probably everything good heâs built would fall down around him, crumble into ash.
Heâs never been a lucky man, so why would he be now?
âLots of calories, I mean,â Y/N says easily, âThink about how much you eat compared to a normal person.â
Bucky nods, like this is a completely normal conversation for them to be having, like it wasnât possibly life altering. Like her life wasnât being drained away before his very eyes.
It's quiet for a moment, the only sound the noise of traffic in the street below. âI donât want anything that puts you at risk,â he says suddenly, words spilling out of him in a violent torrent, words he hadnât planned to say. âI donât. I wonât tell you to do this, not when it could be so dangerous. God, Iâm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I-I donât want to gamble with your life for this, for-,â
For what? A child?
Nothing was worth losing Y/N over, especially not something that was currently nothing more than a couple of cells.
Bucky starts to stand, wants to pace, wants to run, wants to put his fucking hand through a wall for always being his own worst enemy.
âHey,â she grabs his hand before he can move away from her. âBuck. It's gonna be okay. Iâm going to be okay. We havenât decided anything yet. And if we decide to keep it, we will have the best care, the best of everything. You wonât lose me.â
His voice is hoarse when he responds, âYou canât promise me that.â
âNo, but neither could any woman whoâs ever fallen pregnant. And weâre much more privileged than most when it comes to medicine and resources. You know the whole Avengers enterprise is going to be involved once they find out.â She keeps a firm grip on his hand, her mouth a delicate frown. âBut weâve never talked about kids before. Do you even want children? Do you want to be a father?â
âNo,â he grinds out, almost a snarl. âAbsolutely not.â
But already thereâs an image in his mind that he canât seem to dispel, a future so distant and unlikely it might as well be a dream. A little girl that looks just like Y/N, soft baby giggles, birthday parties and holidays, tiny smiles. Y/N in a lower case font.
He shakes his head, wants the image gone.
Y/N shifts then, pushing him back into the couch, her knees bracketing his thighs. âBuck, look at me.â His eyes snap to hers, fondness and love and understanding staring back at him. Everything he doesnât deserve. âNothing is set in stone yet. Weâre just talking and Iâm okay.â Lifting his flesh hand, she presses a kiss to his wrist, to the place the miracle tattoo had stuck, her initials, the beginning and end of his story.
Bucky catches at her other hand, thumbing over her wrist where a matching tattoo rests, his initials written on her skin in tiny letters.
âCâmon. Humor me,â she smiles, kissing his wrist again.
A long sigh leaves him, his chest deflating when she leans her forehead against his own, her thumbs tracing the underside of his jaw when she cups the column of his throat between her palms. âYou okay?â
âIâm good,â Bucky whispers against her, hooking his arm behind her back to draw her closer. âI helped take care of Becca when she was a baby, liked it even. Guess I did want them at one time, but then I got shipped off to war and it never mattered. I was never going to get the chance.â
âYou have a chance staring you in the face right now, Barnes,â she says, stroking her hands through his short hair, feathering the ends lightly, tugging until he tilts his head back and she can look down into his eyes. âItâll probably be our only chance. This way at least. Itâs...apparently something close to a miracle that we managed this at all.â She smoothes her hands over his hair again, fingers nervous before she tracks her thumbs under his eyes. âSo it's important we get this right. Itâs okay to want this.â
Something clicks into place then, slots together in a moment of clarity. âYou wanna keep it,â he says softly. âDarlinâ do you want to keep it?â
Thereâs a long pause, tension and worry thick in the air between them. Her mouth twists to the side, a pained smile. âI think I do. But I canât do this without you. I donât want you to hate me for this.â
Is she worried that heâll leave? That itâll change how he feels about her?
Sheâs his touchstone, the center of his galaxy. Nothing could change that.
âIâm with you, Y/N,â he murmurs. âIâm not goinâ anywhere. Especially not when you need someone on your six.â
She would need more than just someone on her six. He would have to enlist help from Steve and Sam, Natasha and Tony. Bruce and Helen Cho were already a given.
Somehow, in the space of seconds, the idea is firmly planted in his mind.
Theyâre having a baby.
âBut do you want this? Are you going to resent me for the rest of our lives if I want to do this? I donât want things to change between us, because it's not worth it to me then either. Youâre the most important thing to me.â Before he can even open his mouth, sheâs pulling back and pointing a finger in his face. âBe honest with me, Bucky Barnes. Weâre a team.â
He hooks his hand behind her neck, bringing her forehead back against his. âYes,â he says with a sudden conviction, âChrist, doll, Iâd follow you anywhere. I want what you want. I always wanna be where you are. I want to do this with you. It wonât change anything.â He pauses, âFuck, Iâm afraid but Iâm with you.â
He holds up a hand when she opens her mouth to reply. âBut I have a few stipulations.â
âAnything, Buck,â she breaths, some of the tension melting out of her shoulders.
âYou always come first. Always. If it comes to that, we are choosing you. I wonât lose you.â
âOkay,â she whispers. âOkay, honey. It wonât come to that but okay.â
âYou have to follow every single instruction that we get to a tee.â
âOf course.â
âI mean it. No cutting corners, I know how you like to find loopholes around things.â
She grins, trying to hold it back, âSo are we having a baby?â
He allows just a little bit of hope, happiness, to creep into his chest, the image of a baby girl with eyes the same shade as Y/Nâs swaddled in pink back in his mind. âYeah, Y/N. Weâre having a baby.â
The way she smiles at him could end wars.
Week 9 - Fear
Bucky isnât exactly entirely on-board with the pregnancy, she knows, not convinced it isnât about to be the end of everything he holds dear. His uncertainty and fear are palpable in the weeks following their decision to keep the baby, eating up any room he might have in his mind for happiness or hope or excitement.
And he should be excited, at least a little. Thereâs a veritable miracle growing inside her, completely by accident. Something that should have been out of the realm of possibility for them.
But thereâs still blame blooming between his shoulder blades that he canât quite let go, guilt that heâs made a mistake, and a fatal one at that.
Y/N is determined to make him see the possibility, the good of the thing thatâs happening.
âIâm going out,â she announces to a dozing Bucky, hand already on the doorknob, purse in hand. He looks peaceful stretched out on the couch in the afternoon sun, arms crossed over his broad chest. She almost feels bad for disturbing him.
Heâs immediately awake and on his feet, reaching for his jacket tossed over the back of the chair. âWhere-,â
âAlone,â she adds.
âAbsolutely not, doll,â he growls. âNo.â
She rolls her eyes at the alpha male attitude that suddenly guided his every move. While he;s normally protective of her, the instinct has gone into overdrive recently. âYes, you dummy. Itâs a surprise for you.â
âWhatever it is, I donât need it. Forget about it.â Bucky snaps, voice still low and gruff. She wonders if he realizes what heâs doing. Y/N knows it's just how his worry has been manifesting lately.
She pouts at him, drifting away from the front door and toward him. She doesnât fail to notice that heâs poised on the balls of his feet, as though to spring after her if she makes a run for it. A laugh tugs its way out of her mouth. âWhat can I do to convince you?â
âConvince me to what? Let my highly vulnerable partner go out alone?â
âYour age is showing old man.â
He rolls his eyes as she presses a hand to his bicep. âSeriously. This is important to me. You canât keep me locked up in this apartment forever.â He doesnât answer, clearly thinking that he could if he really wanted to. âWhat if I take another super person with me? Sam or Steve? Natasha maybe?â
âYou would rather Sam and Steve go out with you?â He asks, fidgeting with barely suppressed anxiety, hands fluttering.
âOnly because Iâm picking something up for you, stupid,â she says affectionatly, trailing her fingers along the inside of his forearm, tracing over her initials on his wrist. His hands still almost immediately, stress easing out of his spine, lungs expanding to take a full breath. âItâll be okay.â
He swallows and tugs her close, arms closing around her tightly, âYouâve been so dizzy lately-,â
âThatâs what the assigned super person would be for. To catch me when I pass out,â she jokes.
Women normally experienced fatigue around week 9, but Y/Nâs was extreme as was predicted. She sleeps much more than she used to, dizzy, disoriented and tired when sheâs awake.
âNot funny,â he murmurs against her hair, but she knows heâs relenting, relaxing against the warmth of her body, against his need to please her. âFine. Call Steve.â She leans up to kiss the line of his jaw, trailing her hand over his stomach, feeling the muscles clench beneath her fingers. âThank you, Barnes. Maybe Iâll do something nice for you when I get back,â she winks at him.
~
Steve makes it to their apartment in 15 minutes, an amused smile on his face as Bucky demands, threatens, Steve to text him if anything happens, repeating her recent medical history, how sheâs been feeling lately, that if he let anything happen to her Bucky would kill Steve himself.
âWeâll only be gone a couple of hours,â Y/N promises, pressing a kiss to his temple. âPlease donât worry too much.â
The look Bucky shoots her tells her that sheâs just requested something impossible.
She giggles and grips Steveâs elbow, Steve shutting the door in his oldest friendâs face before he can start lecturing them again. âGod heâs overbearing,â Steve gripes. âUsed to be just the same with me when I got sick. Heâs always been such a mother hen.â
âYeah, thatâs a good way to put it. You probably deserved the mothering though. You donât know when to quit.â
âGee thanks, kid,â he rolls his eyes, guiding her out onto the street where she directs him down the block.
âHow likely is it that heâll just follow us anyways?â She asks, looping her arm fully though Steveâs, leaning her head on his shoulder after glancing back at their apartment building.
Steve shrugs, tugging his baseball cap lower over his eyes. âNot high. He hates upsetting you and I think he trusts me to at least be able to monitor you for a few hours.â
âThanks, dad,â she snips back at him, relishing in the way he rolls his eyes at her. Ever since she met Bucky, Steve has also become a permanent fixture in her life, much like the rest of the Avengers. Though it had been infinitely apparent when Y/N and Steve first met that Bucky was anxious for them to meet, almost like he was waiting for them to compare notes, waiting for a consensus from experts in all things broken to evaluate his worth, back when Buckyâs confidence could be best described as shaky.
Back when anxiety and nightmares were waking monsters, back when trigger words were to be feared.
But the consensus was still reached, Yes, Bucky Barnes is worth loving. The only conclusion that would ever be had.
She tugs Steve into the first bookstore they pass, quickly locating the pregnancy books. Her hope is that getting Bucky some pregnancy and child rearing books might help put him at ease, settle his racing mind.
If he knew, generally, what to expect over the entire duration of her pregnancy, then, she hoped, it might alleviate some of the worry he felt. Steve isnât helpful in the slightest in selecting a book, but he does provide a soothing presence and catches at her elbow when a dizzy spell takes her and she sways on her feet, his hands firmly on her shoulders, asking if sheâs okay.
Twice he dutifully makes her sit down, carrying over stacks of books for her to look through and discard instead. âBucky would kill me if I let you stand the whole time,â had been his only comment.
After an hour, and a selection of three books, Steve suddenly speaks, breaking the silence between them, the crisp rustling of pages.
âHe really wasnât happy about this, huh,â She had been taking a break to rest her eyes, incredibly tired and only away from the apartment for an hour. Y/N blinks, watching Steve scan the shelves.
âNo,â she agrees easily, sitting up straight and rubbing her eyes, âHe never is but especially not these days. Buckyâs very good about knowing when heâs being too overbearing and Iâm good at compromising. Just protective of me I guess.â She hands Steve a pink book, some kind of new age thing for overly anxious expecting parents. âWhat do you think of this one?â
Steve tucks the book she offers under his arm without looking at it. âSeems good.â He looks to be working himself up to say something and so she waits, resting her elbows on the arms of the leather chair she sits in. âNo guessing about it, is there?â He meets her eyes, âHeâs crazy about you. Has been since he met you.â
Embarrassment wiggles in her belly and she has to look away. âThink so? Iâm pretty gone for him too.â
âYeah, not really any mistaking it. And for the record,â he clears his throat, a little awkward suddenly, âIâm really happy for you guys. I know how he can get but heâll come around to seeing this as a good thing, a hopeful thing. Like with everything, he needs an adjustment period.â He pauses, âNever thought this would happen...didnât think it was even possible but, if it happened to someone Iâm glad it was to you and him.â
She looks up, meeting his gaze, âThanks, Steve. Means a lot coming from you.â
âCâmon,â he holds out a hand to her. âIâll take you to lunch and get you back to mother before he has an aneurysm.â
Steve insists on paying for the books, despite it being her idea, her gift of a path to solace and peace for Bucky. But he seems to be trying to make up some slight to her that she canât even begin to guess at, and so she lets him.
When they return to the apartment after a quick lunch, Bucky is pacing the living room, eyes landing immediately on the books she and Steve carried as soon as the door opened, head cocking to the side.
He devours them in hours.
Week 12 - Morning Sickness
Sheâs still leaning over the toilet, throat burning, empty stomach clenching around nothing, when she hears the front door open and close, shoes being kicked off.
The purposefully heavy footsteps of Bucky Barnes tromp down the hall, the sound comforting in its own right, tension bleeding away from her shoulders where sheâs slumped on the floor.
The bathroom door creaks.
âHey, doll,â Bucky says softly, squatting down next to her as she closes the lid and flushes the toilet. His brows are drawn together in concern as he reaches out to touch her cheek, the back of his hand dragging over her forehead, surreptitiously checking her temperature.
Y/N immediately seizes his other hand and presses it against her forehead, sighing at the feel of the cool metal against her clammy skin. Nearing the end of her first trimester, she has to wonder how much of her raised temperature can be attributed to just being pregnant versus some kind of serum kicking around inside her.
Her temperature is never high enough to be considered a concern, just high enough for her to always be overheated and shivering, just high enough to make Bucky fret.
âHow ya feelinâ, baby?â His voice is gentle.
âFine,â she murmurs, eyes falling shut as Buckyâs flesh hand tentatively moves from her forehead to her belly, pressing softly to the tiny beginning of a baby bump. âReally I am. Better now, just a little tired,â she says, covering his hand with her own, trying to reassure him with a gentle squeeze.
âSure? Sorry, honey, shouldnât have left ya here alone.â
She scoffs, peaking an eye open at him. âYou were only gone for fifteen minutes.â
He has only gone down the block for coffee.
âLong enough, doll,â he says, fully settling beside her on the floor until sheâs ready to move.
Bucky moves his hand away from her, dragging her shirt up a little to trail protective fingers over her belly again, brows knitting together. Sometimes she has to wonder how much he can tell just by touching her. She knows he can feel her heartbeat with ease, maybe he senses other things too. âIâve been thinkinâ...maybe it would be better if we moved into the compound for a bit, just âtil you arenât sick all the damn time.â
Sheâs already shaking her head, hates the idea. âMight be like this the whole time, Buck.â
âEven better we get a move on now.â His tone is light, joking, but she can hear the worry underneath, the ever present anxiety that something was about to go wrong.
Things had gotten better after Y/N bought him the pregnancy books, some of Buckyâs anxiety melting away, replaced with cautious hope and vicious protectiveness. He felt better, she could tell, knowing what symptoms to expect when, and what remedies could help. He had begun chatting regularly with Bruce and Helen about what may be exacerbated by the serum, by the baby.
While Buckyâs normally protective of her, the possessive careful nature he harbored has only grown stronger. It would almost be overbearing if she didnât find it so endearing, and maybe just a little bit hot. Something inside her preening that he chose her, that heâs only ever like that with her.
Heâs become almost primal in his obsession with her, with caring for her.
The first few weeks hadnât been so bad as he adjusted to the idea of a baby and obsessively read the books she had gotten him. It had been a good transition period, no changes to her body affecting her just yet.
And slowly, he came around.
Asking her about her diet, about vitamins, about when they should start seeing an OB. She catches him speaking to her still non-existent baby bump more and more, when he thinks sheâs sleeping. Everything she does becomes carefully cataloged. What she did and for how long, what she ate and when, if she exercised, how she felt.
As soon as she developed morning sickness, as soon as she started sleeping more, fatigued in a way she had never been before, all bets had been off.
Some strings had been pulled, likely by Tony, and she quickly found herself the patient of the best OB/GYN in New York. Y/N suspects part of the enthusiasm of the doctor taking her on as a patient might stem from the fact that sheâs carrying the first and possibly only supersoldier baby.
Bucky had recited information about her habits that she hadnât even realized he noticed or noted, anxiously listing off questions that hadnât even occurred to her during their first appointment.
She hates the appointments, if for no other reason than theyâre annoying and time consuming. Most women only went once a month during the first trimester, but she was not to be so lucky.
Buckyâs already such a nervous mess that she agreed to go once every two weeks, if only so heâll settle, stop fluttering around like a nervous bird for at least a couple of days.
And that was before he suggested that they also see Bruce or Helen once a week, to make sure absolutely nothing is missed, that thereâs as little risk as possible. âBesides,â Bucky had said, patting her knee gently as she scowled out the window of the car on the way back to their apartment from the compound, âthey specialize in people like us. If someoneâs gonna catch somethinâ wrong with you or the super kid, itâll be them.â
âI just hate being poked on so much,â she sighed, rubbing at the inside of her arm where several needles had been stuck over the last few hours. âAnd Iâm not special.â
âSure you are. Likely youâll feel the effects of the serum a little, since youâre having more severe symptoms. And I have something thatâll help with that bruise, doll,â he had said, worryingly rolling up her sleeve to examine the discolored spot, one hand still on the wheel. He had frowned, âLooks like it's already fading?â
âMaybe the supersoldier juice is helping for once,â she had said, patting her belly. âInstead of making me throw up.â
Bucky had looked a cross between stricken and amused. âMaybe.â
Now, though, on the bathroom floor at the end of her first trimester, she shakes her head, âNo. Iâm comfortable here. I donât want to be at the compound all the time.â
âYouâd be monitored around the clock-,â
âPretty sure I already am.â
âHa,â he deadpans. âSeriously though, Y/N, maybe we should think about this. Thereâs better security. You could wander off and I wouldnât have to worry. Medical facilities literally down the hall.â
âMore people,â she counters. âAnd theyâll all have so many questions and want to touch me, especially when I start to showâŠâ
She trails off, watching his eyes go hard, that protective edge swimming in the blue. âNice try,â he says. âAll Iâd have to do is make an example of some poor junior agent and everyone would know better.â
âAnd scare off all my friends.â
He groans, frustrated. âWeâll table it for now.â
âGood, now help me up,â she holds out her hands and Bucky immediately stands to tug her up gently, hovering in the doorway as she washes her hands and brushes her teeth. When she finishes and turns she can tell Bucky hasnât tabled the issue at all. âWhat?â
He swallows, fidgets with the hem of his shirt. âLook, darlinâ, it may not seem like it lately, but I really am trying not to go completely psycho overbearing on you but...youâve lost weight when you really should be putting it on, especially considering the extra calories youâre supposed to be getting.â
She grips the edge of the sink behind her where it presses into her back, âBut Iâve been sick too-,â
âThen maybe you arenât getting the-the nutrients you need!â Itâs almost funny, if it werenât for the anxiety radiating from him. He scrapes his hands through his hair, pacing in and out of the bathroom door. âI mean I - are we - am I doing something wrong?â
Y/N steps forward and captures his hands, stopping him in his tracks. âTell me what youâre worried about? What specifically?â He opens his mouth to answer when she continues softly. âI need you to relax just a little bit, baby. We should be enjoying this time. My morning sickness should be going away soon. Iâm fine, weâre at some kind of doctor at least once a week, they havenât missed anything. I donât want you to look back at this time and remember it badly.â
âMaybe-,â
âJames,â his eyes snap to hers. âNo. Everything is okay.â She pats his hand, âIf anyone was concerned, we would have been told. Really, the morning sickness has been bad, but nothing that some women donât experience anyways. We - me, you, and baby - are all okay. I promise.â
He still doesnât move out of the doorway, running his hands through his hair as he sighs, mussing it until it stands up in little tufts. âIâm sorry, doll, Iâm just so...this is something I donât know anything about. Yâknow Iâve stared down death more times than I can count and nothing has ever scared me like this.â He pauses and looks as though he wants to reach out to her but doesnât. âLook Iâve just...I have this idea in my head now, of what the future is going to look like. Me and you, and a baby. Everything just feels so fragile and Iâm doing my best not to be the one to break it.â
A soft coo leaves her, completely unbidden, as she steps forward and wraps her arms around him. âYou arenât about to break anything. We arenât breakable.â
He presses his hand to her stomach again, âNo, but you are. Thatâs whatâs making me so crazy. And I canât do anything about it. I can take down terrorist organizations but Iâm powerless in this,Y/N. I donât like feeling like...like you and baby could disappear.â
âBucky, honey, I have news for you. You are going above and beyond. Weâre okay. It's not time to worry yet. Iâll let you know when it's time to worry.â
Week 20 - Cravings
Midway through her pregnancy she finds sheâs ravenous, hungry for everything. And Bucky is more than happy to provide for her, pleased that sheâs eating enough.
Heâd read somewhere that five small meals a day was the best method to keeping a consistent flow of calories, and so thatâs what they do.
Bucky cooks and sheâs more than happy to eat.
He manages to keep everything healthy and high in calories. And it all tastes fucking fantastic.
âHave I ever told you I love you?â She asks with a moan from her place on the couch, balancing a plate on her belly, larger than it should be at this stage in her pregnancy. Their baby is apparently growing quicker than a normal child would, and the conversation had started to come up at their appointments about the possibility of an early induction, or a scheduled c-section for both her safety and the babyâs.
Surprising everyone with how far heâs come, Bucky had only nodded and squeezed her hand. Listening intently but not worried.
Bucky turns from the sink to gaze at her, smiling. âA couple of times I think.â
She pouts, âAnd you arenât going to say it back?â
âI love you, Y/N,â he answers immediately, placing the last washed dish on the rack to dry. âYou done with that?â
âYes,â she sighs contentedly, leaning her head back against the couch, a different kind of hunger growing in her now that sheâs eaten.
She feels Bucky take the plate, his flesh hand tracking over her forehead gently, checking for an abnormal temperature. Satisfied that sheâs at her normal overheated temperature, he moves away quietly, clearly thinking sheâs about to fall asleep.
Cracking an eye open, she watches him at the sink again, broad shoulders hunched as he scrubs her dish, muscles coiling in his flesh arm. A smirk pulls at her lips as she stands with some effort and creeps close to him.
âYou know, darlinâ,â he says without turning, âta me youâre about as quiet as a bull in a china shop.â
She frowns at his back. âCanât you pretend for a second?â
He snorts and shrugs, âAnything for you, doll.â
So she resumes her creep to him while trying not to laugh. Pausing behind him she goes completely still and holds her breath.
She wants to be able to sneak up on him just a little bit but when he starts to turn with a frown she knows sheâs worried him instead. Y/N wraps her arms around him then, squeezing his sides gently, Bucky giving an exaggerated jump for her benefit.
âDid I get you?â
He chuckles, âSuppose so. Please donât just stop breathing though, Y/N.â He presses his hand over hers where it drifted to his stomach.
âI can feel you flexing,â she accuses, digging her nails into him a little. âYou already know what I want so thatâs playing dirty.â
When he turns and cradles her face between his palms heâs already grinning. âYouâre just so predictable these days, baby. Need me ta feed you and fuck you.â
âI could manage without you, Barnes,â she grumbles, trying to pull away, not appreciating his teasing suddenly.
âUh uh,â he hums, âdonât do that, Y/N. Its hot as fuck, baby.â
She tries and fails to hide her smile. âEven all round like this,â she runs her hands over her belly.
His gaze darkens just a little, biting his lip as he gazes at her, âEspecially now.â
Desire suddenly floods her, need invading every cell of her body. âHelp a girl out then?â
Bucky sweeps her up in his arms easily to carry her to their room, kicking their door shut with one foot before he deposits her on the bed carefully.
âEasy,â he says, keeping her in a sitting position at the edge of the bed, âyouâre not supposed to be lying on your back.â
She rolls her eyes, and tugs her shirt upwards, struggling with the fabric, âJust take your clothes off, Barnes.â
Bucky barks out a laugh, kneeling in front of her instead to nudge her up so he can tug down the sweatpants she wears. She stares at the top of his head, the slope of his nose and angle of his brows. She wants to reach out and stroke his hair but sheâs still struggling with her bra clasp. âAre these mine?â he asks, slipping the sweatpants off one ankle at a time.
âMine donât fit anymore, ass,â she says. âYou feed me too much.â
âI was just going to tell you how sexy it is, ass,â he murmurs back at her, tugging her panties down next before he stands and steps back. âI like seeing you in my clothes,â his voice comes out as a growl that has his ears immediately turning pink.
The bra finally slips down her arms and she tosses it to the floor. âMaybe I like how possessive you can be,â she says, raising a brow.
His pupils are blown wide as he looks at her, lust darkened, lashes concealing the depths of his eyes.
She bites her lip, trying not to feel self conscious as she leans back to balance on one hand and spreads her legs, her other hand dipping between her thighs with a soft whine. âDonât leave me high and dry here, Buck. I wanna see you.â
The blush spreads from his ears to the tops of his cheeks. He looks absolutely adorable.
Bucky peels himself out of his shirt, tossing it to the ground before reaching for the zipper of his jeans. Her mouth waters, watching him strip out of his clothes, watching golden skin and taut muscle appear.
While heâs busy with his boxers she moves to kneel in the center of the bed, wobbling a little as she settles back on her calves, a warm hand reaching out to steady her. âCareful,â he murmurs.
âAlways,â she whispers, eyes trailing down to his half hard cock as she licks her lips. âCâmere.â
He joins her on the bed, pressing his lips to hers, lets her push him down so she can straddle his hips. She digs her fingers into his chest, hooking one finger into the chain of his dog tags when she grinds down on him.
Pregnancy has sent her libido through the roof, what Bucky had said was true. All she wanted to do was eat and jump his bones.
She grinds down onto him again, sighing, her pussy already wet just thinking about how well he would fill her.
âLookit you,â he says, hungry hands trailing over her widened hips, her belly thatâs just big enough to be considered a proper baby bump, her swollen breasts. âSo fuckinâ beautiful, sweetheart.â
âYou too,â she murmurs, leaning over him to kiss him, to kiss his pouty mouth. âSo pretty.â
He chuckles against her, fingers trailing down to press between her thighs, slipping through her folds. âYouâre so damn wet for me.â He drags one hand up her spine, cool metal fingers coming to rest against the back of her neck, bringing her closer as he dips one finger into her dripping core.
She whines, his thumb only barely brushing her overly sensitive clit.
He teases her entrance with a second finger before slowly pushing into her, curling them to seek the place inside her that makes her see galaxies. She sighs against his mouth, trailing her palms down his chest and over his nipples, balancing on one hand so she can tug his hand away from her cunt and kiss him at the same time.
âWant you to fuck me. Donât need anything else,â she whispers against his neck. âPlease, baby.â
Bucky brings his fingers up to his mouth to suck clean with a groan. âDonât think so, doll,â he murmurs. âI think you should come on my fingers first.â
She licks her lips, gaze fastened on his pretty pink lips, the same color high in his cheeks. So pretty and warm, the color of a summer sunset. She leans down and brushes her nose against his cheek, inhaling the scent of his skin, clean, like city rain and smoke, lustful, like arousal and cooper tinged blood.
They would have a strong baby, she knows, because whatever filtered version of the serum thatâs managed to affect her these last months is rather heavenly. She can smell so much more, taste more, feel more.
Itâs good for moments like these, when she can feel everything he does to her in hypersensitive reality, horrible when the new blanket he buys is scratchy and she canât explain why and it makes her cry.
She especially loves how he smells, and doesnât know how sheâll cope when it goes away.
Now though, she doesnât want to listen to him. Not in the slightest. She doesnât want his fingers, she wants to feel the heavy drag of his cock inside her, wants to feel so connected to him she canât bear the thought of being separated, so close she thinks she can see what his soul is made of.
She needs him buried deep inside her, wants to consume him and be devoured in turn.
With a grunt, she sits back and snatches up both of his wrists, shoving them back above his head with a huff. âNo.â
When she meets his eyes, theyâre wide, pupils dilated so far the blue has almost entirely disappeared. âJesus Christ, doll,â he whispers.
âWhat?â
âWhat? You shouldnât have been able ta manhandle me like that.â
She scoffs, âYou let me do that.â
âNo. I promise you I didnât.â He smirks, âThatâs hot.â
âOh,â she whispers, giggling a little with the new found gift. She squeezes his wrists, âThis okay?â
âFuck, yes.â His voice is husky. âYeah, this is perfect.â
She laughs louder then, releasing his wrists. âJust want you. Nothing else. Please.â
âIâm inclined to burn the world for you right now, honey. Iâd bring it to its knees for you.â
Sheâs so glad in that moment, that heâs back to himself, that the anxious mess heâd reverted back to at the beginning of her pregnancy has melted into the man she knows. âYou know,â she whispers, pressing her forehead to his as he grips himself in one hand and guides himself to her entrance. âIâd do the same for you, James Barnes.â
He grips a handful of her ass, then guides her down with a hand on her hip.
A breath leaves her when heâs fully seated inside her, so deep it's a little hard to breathe. She sits back and swirls her hips, Bucky's hands roaming up her body to cup her breasts roughly. A shuddering sigh makes her eyes flutter back. Even with her heightened temperature he still feels so warm to her, like heâs burning her from the inside out.
He pinches her nipples, rolling the sensitive flesh between his fingers, urging her on.
Y/N moves in earnest then, rocking her hips against his. Bucky groans and digs his heels in to meet each thrust, slamming into her, making starbursts cloud her vision. He feels so good inside her, drags against her walls in the most delicious way.
She tries to extend the moment, make the full feeling last, but as soon as Buckyâs fingers touch her swollen, sensitive clit, she feels her walls contract around him. She tries to clamp down on the feeling but her orgasm is already washing over her in a hard wave, a wild moan passing her lips that only makes Bucky thrust harder into her, chasing his own high.
He sits up suddenly, holding her close to his chest, whispering, âMove, baby, câmon, move, âm so close, sweetheart. Please,â he begs.
She canât deny him anything so she does, sloppily moving her hips against him until he spills into her, shaking hard, one large hand splayed across the small of her back, the other pressing against the back of her neck, keeping her nose buried against his throat.
âFuck, youâre perfect,â he whispers, biting lightly at her pulse point before knocking a kiss against the side of her head. âLike you were made for me, honey.â
âDonât move,â she whispers, burying her nose against his neck, inhaling the heavenly scent of him again and again, filling her lungs.
He chuckles and shifts, his cock still heavy inside her. âIt's more than just strength, huh? This why that blanket was so upsetting? âS okay. I get it. Everything can feel harsh.â
She sighs contentedly, only answering, âYou smell so good.â
His only answer is to tilt his head back.
Week 28 - Baby Shower
Steve and Bucky are still carrying boxes into their apartment when Y/N collapses onto the couch with a groan, closing her eyes as the tension comes off her back.
âHey,â Bucky says, immediately abandoning Steve by their front door to kneel next to her, âWhatâs wrong?â
He doesnât sound panicked, worried sure, that would never go away, but not like he was about to demand that they go to the hospital right that moment.
âYour kid is kicking my ass,â she moans into the pillow.
Bucky chuckles, stroking his thumb over her cheek. He presses his other hand over her belly softly. âQuit kickinâ your ma,â he says.
The thumping against her ribs immediately abates and she takes a breath, eyes fluttering shut. âThank you.â
âLemme get the rest of these boxes, sweetheart. And then Iâll take care aâ you,â Bucky says with a laugh, lips ghosting over her forehead.
âBaby doesnât like being away from you,â she murmurs, covering Buckyâs hand with her own. âThatâs what I get for letting you talk to my belly all the time.â They had been separated by duty at the baby shower for most of the day. Still, itâs almost painful to be separated, even if they were still in the same room. And clearly the baby doesnât like it.
He laughs again, kissing the top of her head before following Steve back down to the street where Nat waits with the car.
The door snaps shut and she finds herself alone for the first time in weeks. The apartment is warm with spring air, with the scent of new life.
She stands with some difficulty, larger than she should be at this stage.
Knowing sheâll give birth early scares her more than she lets Bucky realize. Anxiety makes her head swim with possibilities, of not knowing when it would happen or how, of not knowing if the birth would be more difficult than is usual. How painful it would be.
Despite all Buckyâs worrying and fears, her pregnancy has been relatively normal, her symptoms more exaggerated maybe, but nothing she couldnât handle, especially when aided by the serum.
It was likely the only reason the baby hasnât broken one of her ribs.
Other fears were creeping in now too, the closer to the end that they got.
When she wasnât pregnant anymore, would Bucky still look at her the same, be as on-board with having a child as he is right now? Would the sleepless nights and difficult days make him drift away? Would he still find her attractive?
She shuffles down the hall, trying not to let the niggling worries consume her, murmuring to her belly as she waddles along, one hand against her back. The door to the nursery is open, the walls a calming pale yellow. There are still tools on the floor from where Tony had been upgrading some kind of advanced baby monitoring system and security.
Almost everything is in place though, everything draped in shades of gender neutral sunshine and mauve brown. They had decided to wait to find out the sex of the baby and Bucky had fallen in love with the idea of a sunshine room, bright and warm. And she couldnât deny him that vision.
âY/N?â Bucky calls, front door slamming closed.
âIn the nursery,â she says softly, knowing heâll hear her, flicking on the lamp by the door, the baby giving a gentle tap to her bump.
Bucky curls his arms around her suddenly, having moved silently down the hall, kissing the back of her neck softly and making her jump. âYou okay? It was a long day.â
She leans back into him, âA good day though. Baby will be very loved.â
âAlready is. Not sure we have room for all the shit Tony bought,â Bucky chuckles against her neck, pressing a kiss to her heated skin. âThink the room is ready?â
âMhm,â she hums, turning in his arms. âWe need to pick names though, honey.â
âAh, we have time.â
She bites her lip, âBut we donât. I could pop any day-,â Y/N stops and takes a shaky breath, feeling stupid when her throat tightens suddenly.
Fuck. Sheâs going to fucking cry.
âHey,â his voice is soft when she closes her eyes and a few tears sneak out, Buckyâs thumbs tracking over her cheeks, brushing the tracks away. âWhatâs wrong?â
Shaking her head, she tries to pull away. âNothing. Sorry Iâm ruining a good day-,â
âYou arenât ruining anything. Remember how anxious I was at the beginning of this thing? Itâs okay if it's your turn now, baby.â Bucky pulls her close, tucking her into his chest as best he can. âScary stuff coming up, something I canât help ya with. You can be scared, but let me be here for you, like you were for me.â
Ironic, she thinks, how theyâve switched places.
She sniffles and glances up at him through webbed lashes. âIâm just scared I wonât be able to do it. Birth. Which is so stupid. Itâs biology, baby will come out one way or another but-,â
A huff of a laugh leaves Bucky and she glares at him trying to squirm out of his arms. âHey, quit that,â he nips at the shell of her ear. ââM not laughing at you. Itâs not stupid. Fear doesnât have to make sense.â
She grips his fingers against her belly, turning again to look around the sunshine room, remembering all the love she had felt at the shower. How everyone wanted baby to be named after them, how the child is already loved by the worldâs greatest, and how thatâs scary in itself.
âThink youâll still want me after baby is here?â
âDoll?â Bucky asks, a note of panic in his voice. âWhat-?â
âIâm afraid youâll...Iâve just heardâŠmen sometimes donât find their partners attractive anymore after the birth, that they donât want anything to do with the baby after-,â
He spins her around, cradles her jaw between his hands to desperately search her eyes, before he crashes his lips to hers.
Bucky kisses her like a man drowning, pouring love she didnât know could well so deep into her. Heâs furious in his love for her, it makes the tension slip out of her bones. He pulls away, pressing gentle kisses to her cheeks and chin and nose, still cradling her head between his hands. âYou should know by now, Y/N. Iâm no ordinary man. Youâre my fucking soulmate. Iâm not going anywhere.â
All she can do is stare at him, pressing her fingers through his. âPromise?â
âPromise,â he whispers, leaning his forehead against hers. âGod, I promise. Youâre the bravest person I know, baby. You can do this. We can do this. Iâll be there through the whole thing, and I will be there after. For you and baby. For as long as you let me.â
Week 34 - Birth
Her water breaks while theyâre out getting bagels at the shop around the corner from their apartment. Y/N had been about to ask if they could go home to eat, that she wasnât feeling well and wanted to lie down.
Sheâs wearing a loose dress, hand tucked inside Buckyâs, when she feels something gush down her legs.
Shock makes her go still for a moment, afraid to look down. It canât be. She isnât ready.
Bucky hasnât noticed yet, still talking to the women behind the counter about cream cheese.
She slowly looks down, blinking at the fluid pooled around her feet. That canât be from her, she thinks distantly, separated from her body suddenly.
Y/N opens her mouth, meaning to tell Bucky they might need to go to the hospital or the compound or somewhere that is not a bagel shop. But as soon as she does, her knees wobble and give out.
Before she can collapse a pair of arms catch her, hauling her back to her feet. âY/N?â Buckyâs voice, warm and concerned in her ear. A pair of blue eyes catching her gaze.
âI canât do this, Buck,â she hears herself whisper, before a hand wraps around her wrist and tugs her away from him.
Itâs the man who held the door for her when they arrived, his hand had brushed her shoulder with a tiny prick.
Buckyâs eyes go hard instantly, flicking away from her. âGet your fucking hand off of her,â Bucky growls.
âDonât think so, Winter Soldier. Why donât you let her go?â
âExcuse me?â
Bucky reaches for her, but her hand is suddenly ripped out of his entirely and sheâs deposited in a chair by the strange man. The panic already swirling around her mind intensifies. She canât have the baby without Bucky. She looks down at the hem of her dress, tissue paper wet against her thighs and knees and calves.
Swallowing hard, she tries to make the fog clouding her mind disperse as she reaches down and cradles her belly. It feels like she has cotton in her ears, like everything in the world is very far away.
When she looks up, sheâs shocked to find the shop in a disarray, patrons under the tables staring at her with wide eyes. The barista is shouting something as the man grabs Bucky by the front of his shirt saying something with a snarl, his mouth inches from Buckyâs ear.
Thereâs blood on Buckyâs shirt.
Dripping from his nose.
The other man looks far worse, but that doesnât matter.
Because her self-proclaimed soulmate has blood on his shirt, the gray Falcon shirt that she had gotten him to annoy him.
It was worth it for the disgruntled look on his face and the way Sam almost cried laughing.
It doesnât matter that the man clearly has a broken arm, broken glass in his face.
Because the last time she had seen Bucky with blood coming out of his nose had been when the trigger words still held power over him.
His fist goes arching through the air again, determined, and she suddenly finds herself between them, his fist landing on the center of her palm.
âDonât fucking touch him,â she snarls, the sting in her hand tiny as she pushes him backwards with a violent shove that lands him across the room, sound and color suddenly crashing back into her consciousness.
Bucky catches her when she stumbles back. She can hear sirens now, the girl coming around the counter to grab her other arm, saying something to Bucky. She leans back into his chest, âWho is that?â She whispers. âBucky?â
âAn old friend from Hydra. Heard we were having a baby.â He kisses the side of her head, âNice catch, doll. Think I had him though.â
Of course he had. He had handled much worse, but there was still blood on him and so she couldnât have let it lie.
Bucky lets go of her to haul the man off the floor and shove him against the wall.
âWhy donât you sit down?â The girl asks as police flood the room suddenly, followed closely by Steve and Sam in full superhero garb.
âWhatâs going on?â She asks as Sam puts an arm around her shoulders, sending the girl off with an officer.
No one answers her.
The rage simmering just below the surface of Buckyâs tightly controlled facade starts to break. â-more of them around somewhere. He fucking injected her with something-,â
â-how-,â
âI can fucking smell it on her, Steve!â Heâs running his hands through his hair. âTo induce labor. They said the earliest she might go into labor was 36 weeks. Sheâs only at 34, its too fucking early-,â
She realizes then that sheâs closed her eyes, that she and Sam are outside, that sheâs being loaded into an ambulance. But she can still hear Bucky and Steve as though theyâre next to her.
âWeâll take care of looking for the rest of them if there are any. You need to go with her. She canât be alone for this. Youâll never forgive yourself if you miss it.â
âHe tried to take her from me,â she hears Buckyâs snarled response. âThey deserve to fucking die.â
Steve sighs, âIf it is them then this is the most botched thing Iâve ever seen Hydra attempt, Bucky. It might not be them. Go be with Y/N. Weâll take care of it.â
âSam,â she grabs at his hand, âSam, please. Not without Bucky. I canât.â
She takes a deep breath, feeling returning to her body in slow shakes, and she realizes that the pain in her belly is a long contraction. âWe gotta go, Y/N.â
âNot without Bucky.â She grits out, wondering how much time has passed between the water on the floor and now? How much time had passed before she looked up and realized what was happening in the shop? Enough time that Bucky has been bleeding, that the shop had been smashed to pieces around her.
Another wave of dizziness spins through her mind.
What had she been injected with? What if it was hurting baby? What if she couldnât push? What if she couldnât get the baby out? What if-?
Another contraction splits through her, making her cry out.
Sam is yelling something, his hand still inside hers. Steve and Bucky are still arguing.
âJames Barnes,â she shouts, the words ripped out of her throat. âCome with me right now or I will never speak to you again-,â sheâs cut off by yet another contraction, squeezing her eyes shut.
âNow,â Sam says, letting go of her hand, âGo now.â
The ambulance doors are slammed shut and her heart breaks.
Never.
Bucky has never not answered when she called for him.
Alone.
Would she really have this baby all alone?
âY/N?â Buckyâs voice.
Sheâs hallucinating too now, tears streak down her cheeks.
âY/N?â He asks again, cool metal fingers against her forehead.
Her eyes fly open to meet Buckyâs worried blue gaze.
âDoll, I am so fuckinâ sorry. Iâm so sorry. I got too comfortable,â he cradles her face between his palms gently. âI should have realized before he ever laid a hand on you.â
She wonders again what she was injected with, why she hadnât realized someone had been in the ambulance with her.
Why did he seem like a dream?
âBucky?â
âIâm here. Not goinâ anywhere,â he sweeps his thumbs over her cheeks. âI got you.â He smiles suddenly, âAnd you got me too, huh? Didnât know you could move so fuckinâ fast. Although Iâll ask you not to intervene in a fight while youâre pregnant.â
She sighs, feeling sweat drip down her neck. âCouldnât let âem hurt you again.â She touches his cheek, feeling more than delirious, her breaths coming in heavy waves. âRemembered before, when the trigger words still worked.â Y/N swallows back sudden tears, âBefore you were mine. You had a bloody nose. You would have nosebleeds when they said the words.â
âIâm okay. Itâs not like then, not anymore.â
âYou made me worry, you ass.â
âI know,â he strokes her hair back. âIâm sorry. Weâre almost to the Tower. Helen and Bruce and a couple of the other docs are going to meet us there. Hold on a little while longer.â
Another contraction rolls through her and Bucky reminds her how to breathe. âWhat if I canât do it?â
âYou can,â he whispers, clutching her hand hard. âYou can do it. Weâre going to meet our baby today.â
She feels the ambulance stop moving, the world spinning again. âDonât leave me,â she whispers. âDonât. Promise.â
âPromise,â he whispers. âNever.â
~
By the time they reach the medical facilities, sheâs entered active labor. Someone is telling her that she needs to push but she canât remember what that means, canât remember how.
Bucky doesn't let go of her hand, growling that they needed to take a blood sample, that she was injected with something.
âBarnes, can you get her to focus?â A voice snaps. âShe-,â
âWatch your fuckinâ tone.â
âWeâre trying to get your kid here safely.â
âWe are trying to get Y/N through this safely,â he snarls back before pulling a chair close to the bed and sitting down, forcing her to meet his eyes. She feels a prick on the inside of her elbow and blinks slowly, starting to turn her head to find out what it was.
But Bucky grabs her chin, forces her to keep looking at him. âDonât look at that, Y/N. Just look at me.â Someone is propping her legs up and open. âBaby is moving fast, honey. We need you to push.â
Heâs so calm, she thinks. Wasnât he supposed to be the anxious one?
Bucky looks unshakable, solid, in control.
She nods and looks to the end of the bed, watching the doctors fluttering around like nervous birds. Theyâre between her legs, talking about her like she isnât there.
âHey,â Bucky says when she starts to cry. âJust look at me. You donât have to look at them.â
âIâm scared.â
Itâs happening so fast, too fast. She doesnât have any time to adjust, she thought she would have time.
âI know. But Iâm here. Wish I had somethinâ as pretty as you to look at every time I was scared,â he smiles at her, his gaze steady. âYou can do this, sweetheart. Iâm already so proud of you.â
She nods.
âRemember how?â
She nods again, disoriented, not really sure how sheâs come to be in labor. But she can do anything as long as Bucky is looking at her like that. Like she was about to pour the moon into the night sky.
âWe need you to push now,â one of the doctors says, a little demanding.
Buckyâs jaw flexes at the tone, but doesnât look away from her. She grits her teeth and pushes through a contraction, pain like sheâs never known licking up her spine.
âGood girl,â she hears through a haze of pain, Buckyâs voice wrapping around her protectively, a warm blanket against the agony, a kiss pressed to her forehead. âBreathe. Keep going. Good.â
She only has to push for twenty minutes, Buckyâs hand never leaving hers. His eyes always on hers.
And suddenly thereâs a before and an after.
Before her baby and after.
A cry cuts the air, Bucky going limp next to her with relief. âThank fucking god,â he whispers, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. âChrist, thank god.â
She smiles.
~
Y/N looks around, the haze settled over her still not dispelling, confused. The light in the room is different. She pulls Buckyâs wrist to her nose and inhales, anxious suddenly, empty and afraid.
How much time has passed? She thinks maybe she passed out. Why does she keep losing time?
âWhereâs baby?â She asks.
But Bucky isnât listening to her, another doctor is speaking to him about her blood panel. Heâs calm again, holding her hand. â-normal otherwise. It should be out of her system in a day. No lasting damage-,â
She tugs on Buckyâs hand hard, something primal in her telling her to start screaming until someone answers her about this. âBaby?â She demands, Bucky finally turning to look at her.
Y/N can tell by the look on his face that she had been asleep seconds before.
Before he can answer, Bruce is approaching the bed, something swaddled in his arms. âSorry,â he says. âWe wanted to make sure she was okay and clean her up a little.â
âShe?â Y/N whispers. âA girl?â
Sheâs not sure if Bruce answers her, suddenly not able to focus on anything other than the baby deposited carefully against her chest, close to keep her warm, skin to skin to bond. Small and soft, already asleep like she hadnât just ripped the world apart with her arrival.
âBuck,â she whispers when he carefully reaches out to caress her cheek with one flesh finger. âA girl.â
Thereâs a soft smile on his face, one she doesn't recognize. A new type of love thatâs only just started growing lodged in his eyes. âA girl,â he echoes. âWe have a daughter.â
âIs she going to be okay? Are we?â
âYes,â he says, fierce, before the sharpness melts out of his voice again. âThey said youâll be just fine. Nothing that could hurt you or the baby.â
She nods, leaning her head against his shoulder, forcing him to slide an arm under her shoulders and hold them close. âSheâs so beautiful,â Bucky murmurs. âIâm so proud of you, Y/N.â
Exhausted, she leans up to kiss his cheek. âWe agreed on Becca.â
âWe did.â
âStill think so?â
The corner of his mouth ticks up, and he presses his forehead to hers. âIf it's sâokay with you, doll.â
âBecca,â she says firmly. âBecca Barnes.â
~
âEverything still looks normal for both of them. Y/N is likely going to be disoriented for a couple days but sheâs fine.â
Bucky nods, eyes fastened on his daughter where she lies in her bassinet. âThanks.â
The doctor leaves and Buckyâs gaze flicks to Y/N where she sleeps, her chest rising and falling steadily, slowly.
She had fed Becca for the first time and promptly fallen asleep, exhausted from the entire ordeal. Bucky had been amazed as he watched them, already so in tune, how easily the baby had latched and fed from her, suckling at her breast for much longer than most other babies would.
He doubts everything else will be as easy as that first feeding but it soothed him anyways, to know they were both safe and healthy.
Guilt eats at him now, for letting his guard down, for letting anyone get the jump on him. He tries to force down the feeling, remembering the way Y/N had darted in front of him, the way she sounded when she said donât fucking touch him.
The center of her palm is bruised from catching that bastardâs fist, from literally hurling him across the room.
Steve was right, Hydra had never done anything so botched. The man had been a rogue agent, desperate, hoping to get back in someoneâs good graces. He canât begin to guess whose.
But Bucky remembers him, remembers him standing in the room while electricity snapped toward his head.
He swallows, pushing that memory away, doesnât want to think about it with his daughter so near, like his memories might taint her.
Still.
It grates on him.
Becca fusses and he gently lies a hand against her belly, shushing her until the wrinkle goes out of her nose and she settles again.
Heâs yet to hold her, afraid of how small she is, how very breakable.
Despite being early, even by her enhanced standards, Becca is a completely healthy, normal baby.
âSorry, honey,â he murmurs. âI know theyâve been pokinâ around on ya a lot.â Beccaâs eyes blink open, searching, like maybe she recognizes his voice. âGotta make sure youâre okay, yâknow? Youâre special. Donât just say that âcause youâre my kid. We donât know how this is gonna go.â
He traces her tiny cheek, soft beyond anything heâs ever felt before. âEverythingâll be okay though. You got a whole team of heroes that would go to ground for you. And your ma? Donât get me started on her. Not someone to bet against. And me too, âcourse. Iâd do anything for you.â
Becca coos at him and he smiles.
âHave you held her yet?â Asks a sleepy Y/N.
Bucky turns to find her sitting up, watching them. âHey, youâre up,â he murmurs affectionately, eyes sliding back to Becca. âNo. Sheâs just so little.â
âSheâs a baby, of course sheâs little.â When he still doesnât move, she nudges again. âCâmon. So you can bring her here to me. Said sheâll have to eat more often than other babies right? She might be hungry again.â
Becca would fuss or cry if she was hungry, he knows.
And he knows, he knows he could just wheel the bassinet over. That he really doesnât need to pick her up, but he wants to, has been waiting to do it for months.
Slowly, he reaches for Becca, supporting her head, cradling her gently until sheâs settled fully in his arms.
Heâs rooted to the ground, completely in awe. Becca yawns, tiny pink tongue darting out, soft little baby coos vibrating against his chest. She doesnât fidget like he expects her too in unfamiliar arms, but settles right in, eyes closing again.
She looks just like Y/N.
Y/N in lowercase font just like he predicted.
Bucky sucks in a hard breath, a love so wide and deep spearing through him he isnât sure how to process it. When he looks back to Y/N, sheâs laid back down.
She winks at him, her voice hazy again when she speaks, âNot so hard huh?â
And like that sheâs asleep once more. Bucky walks carefully to the armchair, staring down at the miracle in his arms. Itâs hard for him to remember now that she is, an accident and miracle, as unlikely as anything in his life.
A one in a trillion chance.
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Time Out
The Slutty Bucky Birthday Bash - Day 13 â„
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (yhhmsgm universe)
Prompt:Â Need me a boy who is so needy and whiny when he cums inside for who knows how many times, and yet he still begs as soon as he's done "please, please again? I'll be good, I-I swear, I just need it so bad, just one more baby I promiseâ"
Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Minors DNI. Needy Bucky. Begging. PIV sex. Creampies... lots of creampies.
Word Count:Â 1k
A/N: Okay, so, this happens the week following your first time together. And I donât mean like, once that week⊠I mean all week. Weâre talking ruined sheets. Weâre talking stains on the couch that will never fully come out. Weâre talking chafing.
slutty bucky birthday bash masterlist
âOh, fuck, thatâs it,â Bucky groaned. His feet slipped against the sheets as he pushed into you, scrambling like if he only had a little more traction, maybe he could finally get deep enough.Â
If the past forty-eight hours had taught you anything, it was that Bucky would never have enough of you to be satisfied. He would never be deep enough, close enough; youâd never be full enough.Â
He buried his face in the crook of your neck. âMâgonna come, baby, shit. Feels so damn good.â After a couple more sharp thrusts and a broken groan against your ear, he stilled. You squeezed your legs tight around his waist as his cock throbbed inside you, filling you up.
How many times was that, now? You had lost count at least two orgasms ago. Both of you a sticky, sweaty mess, you werenât sure where your body ended and his began.Â
Bucky continued thrusting through the aftershocks, hypnotized, unbothered by the way each movement pushed more of his cum out of you, made an even bigger mess. After thoroughly ruining the bedsheets yesterday, you had gathered some towels to have at the ready todayâ and thank god for that. The soiled pile on the floor was growing steadily; the towel underneath you now was saturated, and youâd have to change it out as soon as Bucky was ready to let you.
He was never going to be ready, though. Because that meant taking a break, pulling out of you and letting you goâ and judging by the way his arms were wrapped around you, holding you tightly while he panted against your skin, that wasnât happening any time soon.Â
You traced soothing circles on his back, over clammy skin and rising goosebumps. âBuck,â you murmured, and when he lifted his head, it took his eyes a moment to focus on you. Cloudy blue, hazy with a mix of bliss and desire.Â
You pressed a long, slow kiss to his sweaty forehead. Innocent enough, casual; he wouldnât interpret it as anything more than an affectionate gesture, but in reality you were discreetly checking his temperature.Â
âMâfine,â he said hoarsely, because of course he was on to you. âAre you okay?â You nodded and swept some damp hair behind his ear. Bucky was always a few degrees too hot, but that wasnât the issue here; both of you could tell that something was off about him. It was like something primal had been knocked loose the first time the two of you had sexâ his crossed wires, untangled and soldered back togetherâ and now, two days later, the current was still so bright and so new that you barely had a chance to catch your breath before he was ready to fuck you again.
Bucky had been on top of you for hours. You didnât know what time it was, only that he had pulled you into bed when the sun was high in the sky, and now the purple light of dusk was glowing outside the window. It had started out normal enough; he was careful, thoughtful, trying out different positions and making sure to get you off, too. But after a while, you tapped out; you were exhausted, you told him. Didnât have any more left in you. âBut keep fucking me,â you said quickly when you saw his almost pained disappointment. âJust⊠be selfish about it.â
That, he could do. You had to reassure him every now and againâ yes, feels good, yes, keep goingâ and despite what you told him, it turned out that you had a few orgasms left in you, after all.
âOkay, I think we need some water,â you said after the next, smiling against his flushed cheek. Your mouth was dry, and your thighs ached from having your legs wrapped around him for so long. âMaybe a snackâ Bucky.â
He wasnât listening. As soon as you hinted at wanting to stop, his hips had started up a slow, unsteady rhythm, and you fought back a shiver; you didnât know how he managed to hit all of your sweet spots without even trying, but you werenât about to complain. âHow are you still hard?â you asked, a breathy laugh against his ear.
âPlease, just one more,â he rasped. âThen we can take a break. I swear, baby, I only need one more and then Iâll be done.âÂ
âYou said one more last time,â you grumbled good-naturedly. He was thrusting faster now, climbing, ignoring both the wet squelch as he fucked his cum back into you and the steady tapping of the headboard against the wall. It was impossible to pretend that it didnât feel good, and you fought to keep your voice steady. âA-arenât you hungry? Missed dinner.â
He frowned and nodded, his eyes squeezed shut, and a flare of worry lit in your chest. You knew how hungry he got on normal days; the combination of skipping a meal and exerting so much energy in bed couldnât feel good for his super soldier metabolism.
But he was too far gone to stop now. âPlease, baby, please,â he begged, as if you were going to stop him. You would never stop him, not when he lifted your legs and folded you in half like this, making you clench around him. âJust need it so bad.â
âBuckyâŠâ you said. Almost a reprimand, but more of a moan, especially when his fingers found your sore clit. He was gentle, despite his neediness; you cried out when you came around him, squeezing and fluttering, and he collapsed on top of you just a few seconds later.
Thighs trembling, his cock pulsed as he filled you up yet again. He breathed steadily through his nose, but even in your post-orgasm haze, you could hear his stomach rumble.
âTime out,â you said quickly, tilting your hips to the side to encourage him to roll off of you before he had a chance to protest. There was an obscene, wet noise when he finally pulled out, but he didnât object; he stretched out flat on his back on the soaked towels, eyes closed, still panting.
âTime out,â you repeated, softer. âNot stopping. Just taking a break.â He didnât acknowledge you, but you continued on. âGotta clean up a little. Hydrate. Get some food.â You leaned over to kiss him. âJust a quick time out. Sound good?â
He nodded weakly without opening his eyes. âThen what?â
You smiled against his lips. âThen, batter up.â
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what i wouldn't do
[detective!bucky barnes x reader]
summary:Â it's been a week since she was shot. They're desperate for each other.
warnings:Â idiots in love. smut, bi-bucky rep if you squint.
a/n:Â part 2! sequel to the lengths i'd go to
enjoy!
--
âDetective Dollface?âÂ
The courierâs call fills the precinct, clear as a bell, and for her part, Detective Dollface slumps forward in mortification⊠even as she raises her good hand to indicate where she sits. The bicycle delivery guy drops a shopping bag containing two takeout boxes on her desk, and hands her a sweating cup the size of her head, containing just enough soda to drown in if the embarrassment becomes too much. She nods at the man, who waits expectantly. He doesnât leave until she hands him the only cash she has on herâa twenty dollar bill Bucky gave her that morning, so she could pick up some smokes.
Serves him right, she thinks. Embarrass the shit outta me? No fix.
Except she is dying for a cigarette, and he did send her favorite food⊠and itâs not like the whole precinct didnât catch on real quick to them being partners with a capital P, so why let their amused snickers get to her? She holds her middle finger in the air as a âget fuckedâ to anyone within the general radius, and digs into the meal.
âIâm going to murder you,â she texts him, between disintegrating one-handed bites of taco.
It takes almost no time at all to receive his reply:Â
DICKHEAD: knife between the eyes or smothering me in my sleep?
âSomething painful and embarrassing.â
DICKHEAD: i love you too babydoll. take your pain pills.
âIâm fine.â
DICKHEAD: youre stabby
âYou like it.â
DICKHEAD: yes i do
âI can feed myself, you know.â
DICKHEAD: its 2 pm and you havent eaten since i force fed you a muffin this morning
âYou donât know that.â
DICKHEAD: I have eyes everywhereÂ
âCoffee is all I need.â
DICKHEAD: you have anxietyÂ
âDo you wanna come over tonight?â
DICKHEAD: you missing me?
âPlanning on smothering you in your sleep.â
DICKHEAD: be there at seven
She smiles against her will, staring down at her screen as those three little dots pop up beside his name and disappear again several times, before he settles on a simple heart emoji. Heâs told her that he loves her at least fifteen times a day since he came over in a rainstorm to make sure she was alright. She never wouldâve pegged him for a simp, but then again⊠sheâs made the mistake of underestimating him before. He is obsessed with her, to a fault. He went home four nights that week and spent each one on the phone with her, telling her how much he wished he hadnât. She pretends to be annoyed, but deep down, she is thrilled to be obsessed overâespecially by someone who she knows has very few people he holds dear, by design.Â
To be counted among them is to be special in a way which canât be measured out in heart emojis or takeout boxes.
She wants to do something for him which will surprise him, something even better than ordering a taco delivery or realizing after five years that the person you call âpartnerâ has become the very textbook definition of the term. Rendering Bucky speechless is difficult. The White Wolf of Brooklyn is too controlled for that. But to see his expression soften into quiet awe would surely be something.
With the swiftness of a bicycle courier absconding with a $20 tip, she dials the one person who knows Bucky better than she does.
âBecs. Hi. I need a favor.â
__
Bucky shows up promptly at 6:55 pm, wearing his police-issue sweats and a smile which rivals a smitten teenager. Itâs a simple surprise, but itâs absolutely worth it to see the look on his face when he walks into her apartment, using his key⊠to discover takeout from his favorite Chinese restaurant sprawled across the length of the counter, and a bottle of scotch nearly impossible to find unless you have a hookupâlike a sister with a golden retriever bartender for an ex. Bucky guesses right away that his sister was involved in the procurement of said treat. Heâs giddy at the thought of Y/n and Becca in cahoots, especially on his behalf.Â
He happily digs into the veritable feast, while trading Y/n for bites of her orange chicken, and trying to kiss her every time it looks like she left sauce behind on her bottom lip (and she suspects he makes up several such instances just for the excuse to do so again).
But thereâs something not quite extraordinary enough about the surprise. She isnât satisfied. Heâs excited, but heâs not boggled. No bafflement to be found. In fact, she is the one who is caught off-guard when he pulls a bag of bath salts out from under the sink, and some kind of oil which is sure to drive her to the limit of sanity while sheâs still under strict orders to keep her shoulder stabilized.
Speaking of which⊠she canât help the whine which escapes as he helps free her of the sling sheâs worn all day. Bucky makes an involuntary noise of his own, some sort of grunt from the deep, and begins to shuck his own clothes. He wonât listen to one protestation when he unclothes her, too. Buckyâs evening surprises quickly become eclipsed by his own concern for her.
He sits back against the tile, cradling her between his legs amongst a host of pillowy bubbles. She shivers from the disparity between the warm water and the ice on her shoulder (which he retrieved from her freezer âBuck-ass nakedâ as she deemed him), gripping Buckyâs arm until her muscles finally relax around her wound. He smells like his cologne and a bit of sweat, and the leather conditioner they use to preserve the cruiser seats. Not like she wants to wash that away⊠but they have been apart all day, and what better way to be skin-to-skin when she canât jump him yet?
He kisses her neck, just below her ear; she hums.
âI love you,â she breathes. âBut Iâm so annoyed with you.â
Bucky chuckles warmly. âMmm. Do ya?â
âYouâre a dick, but I do.â
âGlad I can be my true self with you,â he says. âWhatâs on your mind?â
She sighs. âWe canât be partners if weâre together.â
âYeah.â He noses her cheek when she lays her head back against his shoulder.
âIâm starting to wonder if I only do this to be close to you, Buck. The thought of riding shotgun with anyone else has me feeling like Tom Hanksâ dumb dog sidekick. Iâm taking so long to heal. By the time I get cleared to go back out in the field, youâll have some other partnership and thatâll be the end.â
âBabydoll,â he soothes. âItâs been a week, barely. It takes a while to heal a gunshot. Youâre not Wolverine.â
ââŠwho?â
âHugh Jackman with the claws and sideburns.â
âOh. Would you still be into me if I was?â
âIf youâre still you, but also somehow Hugh Jackman? Yes. Without a doubt.â
âYou contain multitudes.â
âWould you rather pretend like we donât wanna jump each other in the hot, not West Side Story way?â
âBe cool, boy.â
He shakes with silent laughter. âIf I have to go back to pretending like you donât turn me on when you call in an APB, I might commit an atrocity.â
âSocks with sandals?â
âAt the very least.â
âDo you ever think about how things wouldâve been different? If you didnât get in the wrong cruiser.â
It was how they got paired.Â
A call went out, all available officers responded in kind. Bucky wound up peeling out of the station parking lot with a fresh faced rookie as a copilot. But it was that instant magic, where they just clicked without even knowing each otherâs names. It wasnât until she pressed the suspect belly-first over the hood of their cruiser that Bucky held out his hand to introduce himself.Â
Bucky tosses the baggie which used to contain ice onto the rug just outside the bath.Â
âI was meant to meet you. And keep you safe, and fed. And when you can jab me square in the chest with this healed arm, Iâll know itâs safe to make you feel good in other ways. And if I canât fuck you as my partner on the force, then I guess Iâll have to keep more boxers in your intimates drawer and spend my nights making it up to you.â
She chokes back a whine of arousal. ââŠyou probably could now. If you were really careful.â
âNo maâam.â
She scoffs. âYou really mean that.â
âI still win, whether or not we get to work together. Or fuck.â
âI find it hard to believe that youâre so sanguine about that particular activity being limited.â
âI didnât say that,â he chuckles, shifting to deemphasize her effect on him⊠as if she hasnât already clocked how his muscles react to their proximity. âYouâve had my balls in an iron vice for years."
âPoor baby.âÂ
His laughter warms her cheek. âWe gotta get out. Itâs time for your meds.â
She snuggles closer to him as best as she can, making sure their legs are good and intertwined. âHowâd you like sharing a car with Barton?â
â...Are you ignoring me?â
âIâm comfortable. Donât you want me to be comfy, Barnes?â She nuzzles the nearest available pec.
âIt was fine,â Bucky sighs. âHe thinks I should reach out to the 84th and transfer. Then we can both keep our positions. What do you think about that?â
âThere is no solution in which we get to stay partners, huh.â
âNot unless you wanna pretend like you havenât seen me without pants on.â
She shivers, because she can feel the way his cock twitches at the base of her spine in acknowledgment of how much he wants her. âBuckââ
âBabydoll.â He tucks his nose into the crook of her neck until she squirms.Â
âYou either gotta get out, or you gotta touch me.â She cannot ignore the prickle of arousal which has infiltrated her senses any longer.Â
âWhatâre you gonna do, masterbate while I put the leftovers in the fridge?â he whispers.
âYes.â
Bucky stays her good hand as it creeps down her stomach and she swears she hears his heart begin to race. In his grip, her veins jump at the wrist. âDollâthe waterâs cold.â He says it like an oath of devotion to her. Like heâs trying to talk himself out of it, and not her. âIâmâyouâll pop your stitches,â he groans. âGod. I am not a strong man. Please donât ask me to do this.â His hand flattens hers against the swell of her soft belly. Even so, his tongue finds the pulse point behind her jaw.Â
Thereâs that awe she wanted to hear from him. Bafflement.Â
âDonât,â she breathes. âJust hold me while I do. Keep me steady.â
âOkay. Okay. Godââ
âYouâre an atheist.â She pries her fingers free from his grip, forcing his hand to retreat towards her hip. His nails are closely-trimmed, and still she feels the blunt bite of his fingertips into her skin as he holds on for dear life.
âI worship you, doll.â Bucky canât help but roll his hips into her ass and they both groan.Â
A zing of pain through her shoulder is not enough to deter her from finding her swollen clit, even as she nestles her ass cheeks back against his lap. She almost doesnât want to touch that little bundle of nerves and bring herself relief. This wanting, this desire for himâit has been her constant so long that it feels like comfort. The awareness of his skin and what it might feel like against hersâwhen sheâs wet, and wanting him⊠itâs real, and more heady than any single tryst sheâs experienced prior to now. Even knowing that she could hurt herselfâit makes it feel special. Iâll touch myself with your oversight, because youâll keep me from the worst of it⊠because if I donât, it will end us both. It really might. Not giving in to some shared bliss. What would they put on her tombstone?
He narrates her pleasure in subtle catches of his breath, watching her middle finger float the nerves of her clit in soft circles. His vision is distorted through a soapy iridescent film, but his imagination is wildâit must be, the way he huffs to see her elbow straighten and wrist bend. To test the addition of one finger into her heatâ
âReach into the drawer by your head,â she breathes. âFucking water is making me squeaky clean, canât stay slickâlube, Bucky, the gray bottle.â Y/n giggles when he yanks open said drawer after a moment of stunned silence. He cradles said bottle in one hand, and he wonât relinquish it when she wiggles her fingers.Â
âIâIâll do it.â
âI thought I was too injuredââ
âI wonât hurt you. I couldnâtââ he flicks open the cap of the bottleâ âand Iâll just touch you. Just like you wanted.â
Heâs right. Itâs what she wants. Those fingers, which sheâs watched wrap around a steering wheel until his knuckles strain. Touching her, working her to an orgasm sheâs been waiting on for five years. So she takes the bottle from him, and turns his palm upwards, so she can squirt a dollop of the silicone lubricant into his hand. She scoops the clear gel and presses their fingertips together.Â
âThe water wonât wash this away without soap,â she explains. When he doesnât reply, she turns her head so she can make eye contact. She shivers at the look on his faceâdetermined, and delirious. His lips worry the corner of her mouth as she brings his fingers to her folds.
âOrgasms are good for pain,â he mutters.
Bucky has a reputation around the station. Nobody has ever looked her in the eye and said âI know what Barnesâ fingers feel like,â but plenty of women giggle a little too much in his presence. Try as she might, Y/n canât muster one tiny giggle when the pad of his calloused middle finger slips over her clit. He nips at her good shoulder, choking back the joy of finally feeling her. For her part, Y/n canât breathe. Not when heâs testing the limits of her pain, while simultaneously teasing her inner folds.
âAre you gonna put it in, or what?â she gasps. Bucky gives her mound a soft tap, making water ripple around her hips.
âYour sexy talk needs some rehearsal,â he says. âThis isnât an assignment, Iâm here because I wanna be, so I will takeââ kiss, kiss behind her jawâ âas long as I goddamn want. Might drain this bottle just working you up to my fingers, doll.â
âBetter not⊠itâs fucking expensive.â
âIf we donât drop into a lower tax bracket because of all the lube weâre buying, weâre not doing it enough.â
âYouâre not doing it at all, youâreâoh, I hate you,â she moans, ready to weep at the feeling of his finger dipping into her heat slowly.Â
âSure you do.â Bucky braces her closer to his chest with his free arm, doing his level best to keep her from arching into his touch and yet doing his best to send her over the edge anyway.Â
âHate you so much.â
âHow much?â He coaxes her until she can take a second finger and then proves it to her, despite the huff of worry when she feels him doing so.
âSo much that I forget how muchâBucky, god.â Her knees shake as she approaches release.Â
âTell me you love me.â
âMake me.â
He lets the heel of his hand rock over her clit to take that challenge on. âHow about now?â
She ventures a glance up at him, which is a mistakeâhis pupils are blown wide, and heâs watching every subtle shift on her face as if he could sustain himself on her expressions alone. âYou do this with all the girls?â Her words come out clipped.
âYou want me to give you my history while Iâm fingering you?â
âFive. Iâve had five partners. Two one night stands. Havenât had sex in so long that Iâm surprised I remember how to do it.â
âIâm gonna hurt your feelings,â He warns. Bucky slows down his ministrations, and Y/n feels panic begin to rise in her chest. âThis ainât when we should be talking about it.â
âYou didnât sleep with someone this weekââ
âNo! No, Iâm not a piece of shit,â he sighs. He struggles with himself just long enough that the water being cold comes back into their awareness, and they both shiver. Bucky kisses her temple and pulls his fingers from her. Y/n grabs his wrist.
âWhat?â
He looks at her like he wants to cry. âOn your birthday, alright? I went home with a chick from the bar.â
She blinks. â...you took a girl home from my birthday thing?â
Bucky shakes his head. âSteve met me after.â
âOh. At Stanâs?â
âYeah.â
âOh. And⊠you met a girl there, and you took her home.â
âNoâI went to hers. It didnât go so good, but⊠it was recent, and IâI definitely did it to stop thinkinâ about you.â
âDidnât go good how?â
âI fucking hate this conversationââ
âBuck.â
âI panicked, okay? I freaked out. Couldnât stop sweating, didnât want to look at her. Wanted to get sick when she kissed me. So I left before things got too hot and heavy.â
âDid she at least suck your dick?â Y/n asks softly. The smile at her lips makes Bucky flush crimson. He doesnât say anything, but he nods once. âThanks for telling me, dickhead. Would ya please, please, please get back to fucking me with your fingers so good, my stitches pop?â
âThat was good, baby, very sexy.â Bucky cups her cheek. âI know I have you now, but I didnât for a long time. I did lots of stupid shit to try to be okay with it. Even if it doesnât bother you? I hate that I did it, alright? Just let me feel like a fool about it.â
âHey. I love you. Yeah? If that was gonna change my mind, I wouldnât be worthy of you.â
â...you really want an orgasm, don't ya?â
âDesperately,â she giggles.
âYou get romantic when youâre horny.â
âIs that so?â
âRemember that New Yearâs Eve we were stuck on patrol and you let me kiss you at midnight, and then you told me I was âa nice guyâ and âyou like working with meâ?â
âGod,â she laughs. âI was trying to get you to kiss me again!â
âWhat?? It absolutely killed my boner. No guy likes to be called âniceâ, not ones raised in Brooklyn anyway.â
âBut you are, baby,â she says, nipping his chin.Â
âWhat is nice, anyway? Tell me Iâm really strong or something.â
âThat does it for you?â
âHow did we get hereâdoll, let me get you out of the bath, okay? Weâll revisit this another time.â
âJames, either you finger me in this bath or on my bed. Only âniceâ guys walk away from a horny woman without making her come.â
âI ainât a nice guy, as you knowââ Bucky scrambles out of the bath and then lifts Y/n out, too. He manages to wrap her in a towel and baby her shoulder, all the way to her room, leaving a trail of drips in his wake. He lays her down on the covers gently, but she winces as she lays back on her pillows. Bucky freezes.
âWhat was that?â he murmurs.
She shakes her head frantically. âIâm horny, as establishedââ
âThat was your bad face. Dollââ He squares his hands on his hips, erection and fervor be damned.
âBucky. I got shot. Iâm never completely pain-free!â
âAll I want is to touch you, you know that. Butâsweets, I donât think tonight is the night.â
She frowns. âI hate when youâre logical.â The small smile which pulls at her lips has him smirking back at her.
âIâll lend you my sweats and weâll watch a movie, huh? Almost as good as an orgasm.â
âWhat will you wear?â
Y/n does a second round of icing her incredibly sore shoulder sitting next to Bucky on the sofa, surrounded in the comforting scent of his cologne in his sweats⊠while he recites every word of âThe Princess Brideâ, wearing only a pair of clean boxers (printed with penguins, inexplicably) and one of her zip-ups straining around his biceps. Itâs just as intimate as sex, she thinks. Maybe moreso. Heâs not thinking about performing, or making her feel good, heâs just reciting all of the romantic heroâs lines into her temple and occasionally feeding her popcorn, in between sips of whiskey.
He is a nice guy, even though he hates the word. Itâs part of his nicenessâthat designation being too amorphous, too static. Bucky is a man of action, and when it comes to her⊠he defaults to kindness and honesty. Heâs silly and emotional and far too concerned about âprotocolâ, but thatâs about as nice as a guy can get.Â
Bucky jumps up to fetch her pain pills before she can even ask.
__
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[bucky barnes x fem!reader] * Summary: The love of Bucky's life left months ago. After months of agonizing over what it meant to be apart, they wonder if it's possible to find their way together again. *Based on the song 'soren' by beabadobee: âThe pink in your cheeks when you slightly lose your temper makes me love you even more.â
Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. It's me, so... some heaviness discussing mental health. Contemporary AU. 3.5k+ words.
A/N: written for @bucky-bucket-barnes 2k follower challenge! Congratulations, love!! (This is kind of my love letter to people who make hard decisions for their own good, while still fiercely loving people who are hurting. These kind of relationships don't always end neatly, but healing can happen, and you're still worthy of love when you're in pain.)
like what I do? buy me a coffee on ko-fi. :)
***
She was everywhere.
The honey vendorâs identical laugh carried from one end of the farmerâs market to his stall, wrapping around the woodcrafts borne from the hobby he took up to forget her. At the doctor, a patient was called before him with her nameâa pregnant woman with her partner stood up in reply, and his blood pressure readings were âhigher than averageâ that day. The gas station cashier had her nose. A flight attendant had her eyes. She was every woman, all around him, casting herself about like a haunting spirit, and Bucky couldnât escape her.
âI wish you could accept how hard it isââ
âI do! Iâm not asking you to be perfect, Buck, but you canât do nothingââ
âIs this even worth it, for you?â
Why did he say it?
What he should have said is youâre right. I love you. Iâm hurting, and I canât make it stop. Please, help me find support so I donât bleed you dry. But noâheâd snarled. Like a dog biting the hand which fed and kept him safe, he had lashed out until she did exactly what he feared the most. The back of her head walking out of the apartment was burned into his corneas. Heâd cut a notch in the doorframe at her height with a butterknife, and he ran his fingers into the worn groove every day, as penance.
He didnât feel the kind of pain anymore which had driven her to intervene in his late vigil, that final night. Therapy was a constant in his life, now, and his therapist was a pill, but she at least gave him the ability to differentiate between phantom pains from trauma, and the real heartache of going to sleep every night knowing that there was one woman in the world who touched him like he was made of flesh and bone, and that he couldnât have her. They were different aches.
One set off fireworks in his synapses, but could be reasoned with through breathing exercises, and self-preserving habits.
The other pain⊠the love which curdled between his ribs, turned sallow with every passing day⊠it threatened to crack its cage every time he thought he saw her, or heard her, or⊠caught lavender on the skin of someone who wasnât her. Because she was everywhere, and nowhere.
But he was okay, really. The nightmares were few. He had a healthy addiction to the cooking channel. He even saw Sam and Steve, and went on long rides with Tony whenever the man could find time to pull out his motorcycle. There was just a hole in his life in the shape of her. He carved his time out around the dearth, with the same measured dexterity he used for cubes of knotty pine. He made birds out of wood, but there was no productivity which could be wrought from the absence of love, and sold every Tuesday to old ladies with grumpy dogs. So.
He cared for himself at the basest level, because if he owed her anything more than an apology⊠it was that. To give himself the care and respect which she used to insist he deserved. Itâs what she would want, even if he never actually saw her again.
***
Bucky awoke with a start when his phone chimed from his chest. He sat up.
He blanched. It had been so long since that name crossed his screen that he was starting to wonder if he dreamed her, but no... there she was.
DOLL:Hi.
Two letters, but sharp as a knife.
âHey,â he managed, but not so quickly that sheâd know he was breathing for the first time in almost a year. The three little loading dots taunted him, predicting her reply and yet giving him no indication what she might say.
DOLL:Is it okay to talk a little?
âIâd like that.â
DOLL:Okay
DOLL:Iâm sorry if this is out of left field
âNo, Iâm happy to hear from you.â He wasnâtâBucky was pacing his bedroom, which still had faint dust rings from her belongings, and empty dresser drawers yearning for her underwear and sweaters, and a pillow with the indent worn by her head. He was in stasis. Hoping for this. Dreading it.
He was electric to know she was within his reach, even if it only lasted for a few texts, because it was the first bit of hope heâd had.
DOLL:Can I call you?
Bucky gripped his hair between his fingers and groaned. âOf course,â he replied, and then he tossed his phone on the bed so he could put a shirt on. Something about speaking to her again made it seem improper to be shirtless, even if sheâd never know. He shoved the black henley over his head as his ringtone blared. He hadnât silenced his ringer since she left. Something about keeping the home fires burning, or something.
âHello?â he said, like he didnât know who it was.
She sniffled. âHey, Buck. Itâs me.â
âAre you okay?â
âNo,â she laughed, but her throat was strained with emotion. âIâm just. Godâthis was such a bad idea. Iâm so sorryââ
âHey. Y/nâyouâre fine, Iâm not⊠if anything, Iâm glad to hear your voice. If you donât mind me sayinâ.â
âI donât mind,â she murmured. âHow are you?â
âIâm⊠alright.â
âYeah?â
âMhm.â
âSam⊠I ran into him. He said you were really good. Youâre playing basketball at the Y, or something?â
Bucky breathed out slowly. God bless Sam Wilson. âWe have a co-ed team that plays on Wednesdays. Itâs been nice.â
âSounds like it.â She seemed less panicked, like there was a smile curling at her lips.
Bucky took a running leap from the precipice of hope. âYou interested? We could use a point guard.â
She laughed. âYou do not want me on your team.â
âSure I do!â
âI have no hand-eye coordination, Buckyââ
âBecause Iâm a retired NBA star,â he snickered. âItâs for fun, thereâs no pressure. Honestly, most of us are bad. Sometimes we get pizza after.â
âNetting zero calories, huh? Love it.â
âNah. Itâs better than the vets group at the Y,â he sighed. âIâve gotten more out of badly playing basketball than rehashing why war sucks with a bunch of other hurt people. So.â
âIâm sure.â
âBut. Yeah. My therapist says itâs not a valid substitute for group counseling, so I'll⊠probably still have to do that, at some point. Butâoh! Signed up for the Big Brother program with Steve yesterdayââ Bucky stopped himself and pinched the bridge of his nose. âIâm rambling. Sorryââ
âNo! Iâm⊠I like it. Please,â she whispered. âIsâis it alright to say that Iâve really⊠missed you?â
Bucky clutched the footboard to stay upright. âWhere are you,â he breathed. âIâllâwe can catch upââ
âI dunnoââ
âIâm sorry, I shouldnât haveââ
âNo, iâm a wreckââ
âI donât mindââ
âYou probably think Iâm nutsââ
âY/n.â Bucky laughed in disbelief. âIâm so happy right now that my feet aren't touching the ground,â he said quickly. âI donât care if youâre a mess. Letâs⊠Iâll come to you, if thatâs what you need, but⊠god. IâmâIâm so, so happy. Youâre constantly on my mind. I keep thinking I see you. Every time it isnât you, it sucks.â
âYeah?â her voice was so small that he huffed.
âI swear, doll.â
âOkayââ
BZZZZT.
âShit, Iâm so sorry. Give me a second, someone is buzzing.â Bucky strode for the buzzer which would allow him to speak to his visitor through the intercom. âCan I help you?â
âItâs me.â
Her voice rang through the speaker beside his door and the one at his ear, like a dissonant echo. He pressed the button to release the door without hesitation. Bucky threw his phone at his sofa, and ripped open his front door. He pounded down the stairwell in a fever pitch. It couldnât beâshe couldnât beâafter all the ache, and hoping, and dreaming that sheâd come, it just couldnât beâ
âBucky!â
He froze on the last landing.
Standing at the base of the stairs was a woman who he had seen in fragments since his heart had splintered months ago. She had her hair wrangled like she always did when depression threatened, and she wore her slipper-shoes which he had tried and failed so many times to talk her out of wearing to the grocery store, and the sweatpants with her collegeâs name printed down the leg but missing a letter from where they had gotten caught in the door of the laundromat dryer and twisted into oblivion, and the sweatshirt she had stolen from him with a deep hood, and two glassy, gorgeous eyes.
âHi,â he breathed.
He sat. He didnât know why, but that seemed the right thing to do. Make himself a little smaller, help her feel comfortable. Then, because he was human (and this was the woman who filled up the empty space in his life like no warmth he had ever known), he held out his hands.
She paused at the bottom stair and shook her head. Her desperate tears were swiped away by anxious fingers, and his own itched to sooth her. Bucky tucked his hands beneath his knees to keep himself from reaching for her again, until she initiated. He hoped that she would. A hug, if nothing else. Hell, heâd take a high five if it meant touching her skin.
âHi, bub,â she whispered.
He smiled at the endearment. âYou walk here?â
She toed the ground. âDonât live that far. I, uh. Youâre not busy?â
âSunday,â he said softly.
âIâve lost track of the days. Been off, I⊠I took some time.â
Bucky frowned. Time. From work, which wasnât a good sign; she loved her job in a way that made no sense for a New Yorker who did customer service, and he had often asked her why she didnât leave the job which so often demanded too much of her. I love it. Iâve invested a lot in it, and it would be hard to start over again with another place. The investments she sunk into people would drag her into the doldrums if she wasnât careful, but she was smart. If she was taking time, she was caring for herself. But she looked so sad that he made an involuntary sound, a little⊠groan of concern, as her brow furrowed.
Her gaze, which had fallen to the hem of his pajama pants, flicked up to his. She had matching silvery streaks down her cheeks.
âI donât know why Iâm hereâno, I know,â she sniffed. âHearing Sam say youâre doing good made me so happy, IâI bawled when he told me. In the middle of the deli. I couldnât even order my pastrami sandwich. How was I supposed to explain to them that my⊠my-my favorite person in the whole world was good, and that was why I was crying over how nicely the rye bread was marbled? Iâm⊠Please stop meââ
âBabydoll,â Bucky breathed. âYouâre upset, come here.â
She took a beat before she agreed to the invitation, but then she sat on the step below him. Her fingers dug into the front of his shirt, and she curled into the spot which his body had learned to make only for her. His shoulder became damp on contact. Buckyâs own vision blurred, but he forced himself to keep his touch gentle⊠hesitant. He cupped her nape, and gave his hand for her to squeeze as tightly as she needed.
âI left. Do I have a right?â
Bucky laid his cheek against her hair. âItâs not for anybody to say. YouâŠâ he cleared his throat. âYou knew you needed to go, because I was relying on you too much. It was gonna break you.â Bucky squeezed her hand. âIt was fucking hard, and I never couldâve made that call on my own, and Iâm glad you did it⊠even if I missed you.â
âYeah?â
âYou donât know how many times Iâve stopped myself from texting you past midnight. God, Iâve had your voice in my head, sayinâ over and over, âno good decisions are made after sunset.â Every time I might slip up. I think: no! Itâs dark outside, sheâll be disappointed in you. Again.â
She pulled away from him, and laced her fingers with his. Her tears seemed to have stopped, for the moment. âBuckâI was never disappointed. Just scared. I pushed you too hard, andââ
âMaybe,â he said quickly, cupping her jaw. She closed her eyes at the gesture, and leaned into his touch. âOr. Maybe itâs nobodyâs fault.â
She sighed, but her attention snapped behind him. Bucky glanced over his shoulder when the stairs creaked; Mrs. OâMalley was tapping her toe impatiently, clearly unmoved by the emotional reunion happening, which kept her from her morning walk. Bucky stood, tugging Y/n with him.
âIâll make us some coffee, come on.â He nudged her to walk up the steps in front of him, nodding at his old neighbor as they passed.
âHey, Mrs. OâMalley,â Y/n said lightly. The old woman nodded.
âMiss thing, you been missinâ out!â OâMalley called as she passed.
âOh yeah?â
âWhat, ainât you looked at him?â Then, she was gone, and Y/n was trying very hard not to look at Bucky.
Bucky, on the other hand, did not miss the wink from the old woman, who frequently used his help bringing garbage bags down to the dumpster or hauling her laundry up two flights. She had told him a few months prior that he had a good heart. The payoff felt bigger, now.
His hand hung from Y/nâs tight hold as they climbed four flights in silence. She laughed at his front door, thrown wide open without a care, but she lingered in the threshold.
âWhat happened here?â She pointed to the divot in the doorframe. Bucky scratched the back of his neck.
âUm. Thatâs my benchmark. I touch it every day, and itâs a reminder of what Iâm healing for.â
âHmm.â She leaned against the wall, beneath it. âIt helps?â
Slowly, Bucky raised his free hand and rested it on top of her head. Then, he pulled her away from the doorframe. Her mouth dropped open, but she shut it just as quickly as her face reddened. Bucky rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.
âWould you close the door for me?â He released her hand and left her in the living room.
Once he was in the safety of the kitchen, he scrubbed his hands over his face. Just because sheâs here doesnât mean sheâs staying, he said firmly to himself. Make her coffee. Ask her questions. He groaned when he realized that the coffee grounds he used were still her favorite flavor. Well. Nothing he could do about it now but make the pot and own up to it if she asked. Bucky poked his head out of the kitchen, but Y/n was nowhere to be seen. He found her again in his bedroomâtheirs. Sitting on her side, staring at the rug which they had picked out at IKEA together when they had first moved in. Bucky set the mug beside her on the little table, the one that always made her laugh because it had the customer is always wrong printed in big block letters on the side.
âHey,â he said softly. She looked up.
âYou didnât get rid of all signs of me.â
âIf Sam had his way, I would have,â Bucky admitted. âBut. It kept me honest.â
âI guess I sorta get that.â She laid down slowly on the pillow which had been hers for so long.
Bucky sat beside her on the bedâon her side, beside her knees. He didnât want to risk the swell in his heart if he lay beside her again. She turned her head, and offered him a tight-lipped smile. Bucky returned the expression.
Bucky sat back on his elbows. âYou gonna tell me why youâre not working right now?â
She turned on her side. âI broke down a few times. On shift.â
âShit.â
âMmm. Nat still paid me out for tips, but. I hit this wall where I couldnât remember why I moved to New York, and all the reasons I had didnât make sense anymore,â she murmured. âIâm crashing on her couch, currently. Paying my rent in wine. Iâll⊠Iâll go back. I need a second to fall back in love with the city.â
âYou donât have to,â Bucky said. âThere are plenty of places you could live, where rent doesnât go up by hundreds of dollars every year.â
âBut where else could I find pizza-stealing rats?â
âGood point.â He smiled softly.
âYou wouldnât be anywhere else, either.â
âAnd thatâsâŠâ
âA problem.â Y/n held out her hand. âPlease?â
Bucky stared at the little fingers and gave himself a chance to breathe, because⊠It was all he wanted, all he had ever wantedâand if he took her hand, and pressed his ear over her heart, heâd have to do it for other reasons than just wanting to cheer her up. Not that that wasnât a good enough excuse to hold her. But it wasnât the only thing she deserved.
He grasped her fingers in his own. âWhy are you here, doll?â he asked, as gently as he could.
She blinked. âTotally honest?â
âPlease.â
âI know iâm just a mess right now, and you donât need that, butââ
Bucky braced his arms on either side of her shoulders. âHeyâenough. Youâre here, Iâm happy about it. Okay?â
She nodded. âWell⊠I donât want to miss out on any more of your life,â she admitted. âI wish I hadnât left, Buck. I would rather fight with you than be happy with anyone else. Iâm a little fucked up like that. You get this flush in your cheeks when youâre mad and it makes me love you even more, because I know you arenât trying to hurt me when we argue, youâre learning how to vouch for yourself, and⊠If there is even one tiny part of you that wants me, I want to try again. If that means I have to work a shitty job in Manhattan to do it, so be it. I just canât lose you.â
Bucky curled his fingers behind her arms and pulled her up, to sit against his headboard. Then, he moved, one hand pressed by her hip to keep her close and the other curled around one of her knees as she hugged them to her chest. He rested his chin on her kneecap. Their foreheads were almost touching.
âI am so sorry for not listening when you told me I needed help,â he said. âYou were right. Iâm doing my best to do right by you, and actually get that support. Still figuring out what that looks like. But you gotta know, honey⊠I thought I lost my one great love. And here you are.â He blinked, but his vision blurred. She folded forward to hold him and Bucky was hit with a wave of lavender, but it was her, there. âI need you. I want you.â
âYeah?â she breathed. He turned his lips against her cheek, and wound his arms around her waist.
âMaybe it doesnât matter so much, loving New York. As long as you love me.â
âI never ever stopped.â
Bucky laughed through the thick emotion choking him, and leaned over until she had to fall with him, onto her side and onto the comforter, which she had picked out to give their space some âwarmth.â He kissed her forehead. She buried herself in the safety of his chest.
âStill want that coffee?â he whispered.
She shook with laughter. âGimme about ten minutes to figure out how we got here?â
âYou can have the whole Sunday, if you stay.â
Y/n tilted her chin so she could see him. Her gaze trailed down to his lips. âKiss me, and I will.â
He did so. Her lips were as soft as he remembered, maybe more so after spilling over with every desperate thought she needed to share. Buckyâs mind emptied of all his swirling doubts. All he knew was that she was there, and he wouldnât take one more second of time with her for granted.
âWhat did I do without you?â he asked, many hours later, when Sunday became Monday without either of them taking note. She was cuddled against his chest on the balcony, watching the sun rise.
âHeard you got a hobby?â
âYeah, um. I make wood carvings of animals and stuff.â Bucky found himself suddenly bashful. âTook a few lessons to get some dexterity back in my left hand after I got the new arm. Kinda snowballed from there. I have a stall at the Tuesday market.â
âHowâs that going?â
âI learned Iâm really good at carving birds, and missing the hell out of you at the same time.â
âOoh, think of how good youâll be without me to distract you!â
âHoney, that will still be a problem,â he snickered into the curve of her neck. âWorse, if anything.â
Her laughter echoed down the fire escape.
***
She was everywhere.
In the kitchen at 2 am, she was the pantsless ice cream goblin, illuminated in the light from the stove, with an innocent gasp to be caught.
She shouted out donât you like this manâs wood?? at the farmers market and helped him sell out his stand for the first time, ever, and bought so many honey sticks from the vendor who shared her laugh that the woman gave her a free t-shirt.
The sofa in the therapistâs office found her, too, with her thigh pressed to his as they figured out how to be together, again. It wasnât too hard. And it wasnât perfect⊠Bucky was still working through a lot of pain, but now she was an active participant in the process, and it wasnât a battle. She could ask him for things, and he could listen.
She went back to work, too, but with the knowledge that she had his support to leave when she figured out what would make her happier. Even if that involved "stealing slices of pizza from rats the size of chihuahuas"--their long-running joke about her destined career--Bucky stood by it.
And she was all over the city, too, because Bucky was determined that it had much more to offer than just a crappy jobâthey invested takeout money in season tickets to the MET, and became museum rats, and explored Central Park like it was some great wilderness.
She was everywhere, and everything, even more.
***
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best kept
[bucky barnes x baker!reader]
This is for Birdie's Birthday Bash Writing Challenge!! Happy happy birthday, @buckysbirdie â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž. This was such a fun way to pull myself back into the creative roll! You're a gem and you deserve to have a beautiful birthday fest.
For my prompts, I chose:đŠ Waffle Cone: Bucky Barnes |đ§ Birthday Cake: Baker | đ âYou deserve pretty things.â | đ Secretly dating | đ Mutual pining
warnings: idiots in love, miscommunication, fluff, mention of sex. no body descriptions, no use of y/n.
--
She didnât mean it the way it came outâyou deserve pretty thingsâlike a plea. She intended for the sentiment to land like an observation, based on their few-and-far-between conversations across the register, like the brew of the day is Breakfast Blend or itâs supposed to rain around three oâclock.
But damn him⊠he flushed. He didnât smile, quite, but his eyes flicked away and he cleared the embarrassment from his throat, handing over a bill too large for the small black coffee and the intricately frosted cupcake which had nearly given up the whole gambit to his companions, who hung at his elbow with an urgency which could only come from a post-mission adrenaline rush.Â
He was expressly forbidden from dating anyone inside the compound. He had made that abundantly clear as he fished the buttons of her baking uniform through the holes in the storage closet the day that pull between them became too much to bear. He had still kissed her like he had all the time in the world, and every moment they squirreled away thereafter was precious, but the longer they had to hide in the shadows⊠the harder it became to keep her tongue from whetting his plush lips where anyone could see. Especially when he picked out a cupcake he knew she had agonized over that morning, thanks to the hastily sent photo he received from the kitchen in the wee hours.
The way lavender buttercream would taste in a forbidden kiss⊠she ached for it.Â
He did deserve pretty things. He deserved much more than that, too. But he wouldnât let her say it. She tried, with her legs tangled in his, to tell him sincerely what he meant to her, how lucky she felt that he would even look her wayâbut he had shut her down with suffocating kisses and stole all coherent thought. He went another day without knowing she loved him, without her trying to make him listen to her say it.
Maybe thatâs why the comment burst out. When she couldnât say I love you, what could she say? You deserve pretty things, like the cupcake I created because all this love has no place to go, because chamomile is your favorite tea, because itâs one part of you that belongs only to me.
Bucky motioned for her to keep the generous change from his bill, and hastened to the far end of the caf to admire her work from a safe distance. She watched him walk away for only a split second, before turning her attention back to the red-headed woman with a cold brew addiction.
Just wait, his text said. The message had pinged from her back pocket while she ascertained whether or not Captain America wanted a savory scone, so she didnât see it until he and his cohort departed from the caf.Â
Clutching her phone over the stove long after the other staff headed home, she stared at the two little words from âJamie.â No punctuation to hang a hope on, ever. He wasnât one for soft sentiments. Bucky Barnes touched her with urgency, but he didnât speak her name with the reverence of a lover. He barely spoke at all, except to coax pleasure from her. She was starting to feel less like a choice, and more akin to a tool he used to blow off steam. It clawed at her heart, making her skin crawl with longing for just one fraction of the effort she was devoting⊠to a man who had never hidden that he wasnât supposed to be fucking her.Â
She couldnât take much more of such an empty arrangement. How could someone so enmeshed with her bones leave her so devoid of affection, even in the slightest? How could she love someone who stumbled away from a tryst like heâd been stung?
He never showed up before the night shift cleaners did their rounds, but he always showed.Â
Wait, she did. She jumped when cold vibranium fingers wrapped around her elbow, swiping furiously at her reddened eyes.Â
âChrist,â she breathed. âYouâre a fucking phantom.â She hazarded a glance at him, but his expression was hardened and unreadable. He was frozen at the sight of her persistent tears. She rolled her eyes and eased her arm out of his grip, putting the island between them. Despite the way every hair on her body stood on end in his presence, it was no use hiding the way his silence inspired more tears. She let them streak down her cheeks. When still he said nothing, anger stirred behind her ribs.
âHow was your cupcake?â she whispered.
âUm. Good.â Bucky leaned against the counter and folded his arms. The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepened. âChamomile?â
She nodded. âYour favorite. I, um. I sifted loose leaf tea in with the flour, I wasnât sure how it would go.â
âIt was good.âÂ
âGood.â She gripped the butcher block countertop so hard, her fingers ached.Â
Bucky let an agonizing minute pass. âYouâre crying,â he muttered. âWhy?â
She snorted. âTimâs wearing his big headphones while he does the floors tonight, if you want to risk it out hereâif you can stand to fuck a woman while sheâs sad.â
He was intelligent, she knew it. It hadnât taken long to see how his mind whirred to strategize around every possible obstacle to the opportunity to take her in a dark corner, and she couldnât dismiss the way his compatriots spoke about his work on assignment, even if she only overheard snippets of their conversations in the caf. It came as no surprise, then, when he scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed.Â
âYou wanna be alone. Iâll get out of your hair,â he said tersely.
âNoâgod.â She laughed, but it stabbed. âI want you. Here. I thought I had made that abundantly clear by sticking my hand down your pants at every opportunity.â
He blinked. âYouâre angry.â
âYeah. Yes, I am. IâmâI donât know how to say this,â she struggled. âWeâre better at the not-talking part of this arrangement. But if I donât get it out, Iâm going to pop!â
Bucky, to his credit, made no move to leave, though every muscle in his body seemed to tense up with the need to flee. Instead, he braced his hands against the counter behind him and nodded for her to say whatever was on her mind. It was then that she noticed that his hair was damp; he never came to her smelling of motor oil, or blood, or sweat, or any hint of whatever duty had demanded of him during the day. It made her want to sob. He came to her clean.
She studied the way his jaw flexed anxiously, and it gave her enough comfortâknowing he was uncomfortableâto make some sort of explanation come out.Â
âIâm selfish,â she started. âI thought that I could just be content sneaking around, because Iâve been clinging to every bit of affection I can get from you. It was fine for a while. More than fine, Jamieâgod, Iâm addicted,â she said sheepishly. âBut itâs not fun anymore, itâs like I need a fix of you, or I canât function. I hate that I canât kiss you where people can see. I hate that you donât say anything to make me think you want me half as much as I want you. I invented a fucking cupcake based on your kiss after a cup of tea. Iâfuck.â She looked up at the ceiling to hold back a new wave of emotion.
âYou never promised me anything, so I have no right demanding more from you,â she said. âSo. I donât think I can continue with my part of this arrangement, given thatâwell, considering that you canât even show interest in a person without creating a coup with Human Resourcesââ
âHang on,â he said softly. âWhat do you mean a coup?â
âYouâll get in trouble. Especially for sleeping with the cupcake womanââ
âIâm not following,â he said. Then, it dawned on him. âDollâŠâ Bucky chuckled. From the depths of his chest, a warm and wooly sound that brought heat to her cheeks. He smiled even as he swiped a thumb across his bottom lip.
âI see what this is,â Bucky said. His blue eyes flicked up to meet her gaze and her stomach flipped. Gone was the frown from his expression, and instead, a strange and unfamiliar lightness took its place. âYou shouldâve told me.â
âWhat?â she breathed.
Bucky pushed off the counter and walked around the island slowly, until he caged her back against the wood. The scent of his soapâsandalwood and cedarâfilled her nostrils. He tipped her chin up.Â
âYou seem to be under the impression that I come here to get my rocks off, and not because I have a sweet tooth. And Iâm kickinâ myself for not seeing it sooner. God help me, doll: when Iâm around you, I lose all rational thought.â
She wound her fingers into the front of his sweatshirt, a soft and well-worn thing with a faded SHIELD logo over the left pec. âPardon my French, but those are the most words in a row Iâve heard out of your fucking mouth, maybe ever.â
ââM a shy guy,â he said.Â
âI have tried to talk to you about this for monthsââ
Bucky winced. âShit.â
âYeah! You shut me up every time! Heyâstop staring at my mouth.â
He raised an eyebrow as if to say well, go ahead. For good measure, he sat on the stool at the lip of the counter, and bracketed her between his knees. She sighed.
âI donât know how long this can continue if it can never be more than a secret,â she admitted.
Bucky cleared his throat.â...Are you under the impression that SHIELD has a stake in my personal relationships?âÂ
She blinked. âYou said it did.â
âWhen?â
âUm. The first time. In the pantry.âÂ
He frowned again and looked at the pantry door like it might project the exact conversation they had, amidst a feverish tryst. âI donât think I did,â he said.
ââTheyâll grill me and everyone in the compound will knowââ You were pretty clear that nobody could know about us. You kept saying it. âThey canât know. They canât know.ââ
âIâm not sure I was thinking about anything but putting my head between your legs,â he said frankly, which made her shiver. âNick Fury doesnât care about interpersonal relationships as long as they donât interfere with our work. The guys, however, already give me shit for how often I miss my mouth with coffee because Iâm watching the cupcake woman and her damned smile. I was probably talking about them. But I donât remember, and Iâm sorry youâve been losing sleep over it.â
âI havenât been losing sleep,â she said bashfully, though her lip slipping into her mouth revealed what a lie that was.Â
âDonât you see how messed up I am over you?â The question came out of his mouth like a blessing. She stared at him in astonishment, which made the tips of his ears turn pink. âI may be bad at sayinâ it, doll, but Iâm acting up like a lovesick man.â Bucky tucked his fingers into the back pockets of her jeans to pull her closer. âYouâve been hurting. Havenât you?â When she nodded, his face fell. He huffed. âThat wonât do.â
âTell me,â she asked. âPlease, Jamie.â
âYou really been thinkinâ about something I said in the heat of the moment⊠shit, a year ago?â
âWords are precious, where youâre concerned.â
Bucky looked up at her like the sentiment struck a raw nerve. He shook his head. âIâll be better.â
âYouâve already tripled your usual output,â she teased, letting her hands slide to his jaw. âItâs no wonder youâre good at keeping secrets.â
âWhat would people say if they knew?â
âStop. Youâre trying to save me from compound gossip?â
He studied her well-loved shoes and the flour which adorned the toes like a deliberate style choice. âAm I a coward?â
âYeah,â she said, but she brushed his cheek. âFor the sake of clarity⊠SHIELD doesnât care, but your friends will tease you, and people might gossip, so thatâs why youâve never actually taken me to your room, and why weâve been sneaking around for the better part of a year?â
Bucky cringed. âIn my defense, I thought you got off on it.â
âI didâI do. But I spend about thirteen hours a day on my feet in this damn kitchen. It would be nice to have sex horizontal for once, and not bent over the sink I wash dishes in! Maybe even laying down on a mattress, as crazy as that sounds.âÂ
âYou wild woman, you.â He laced his fingers behind her knees. âIâm sorry. All this because Iâm afraid of people thinkinâ--it doesnât matter, right?â
âOh, youâre just now realizing that?â She swatted him on the shoulder. âWe shouldâve had this conversation eleven months ago!â
He didnât say anything for a while, but he leaned into her fingers where they dug at the knot in his shoulder while he pondered where they had gone wrong. He gripped her wrist so he could entwine their fingers and study the raised veins on the back of her hand with a curious thumb.Â
âI always buy whatever pastry you made special for the day,â Bucky said, as if it was a revelation he was making at that exact moment. âI tip you like Rockafeller. I canât stand the thought of stinking in your presence, so some days I shower twice. I scan the personnel report every morning to make sure youâre on the premises. I check my phone seven hundred times an hour on the off chance you text me. I dream about you. I wake up smelling your perfume. IâmâIâm your damned satellite, woman.â
âThen why are you so worried about people knowing?â she asked it, but she gleaned the answer the moment it left her lips and she pressed her fingers to his to stop him from saying it. His lips pursed behind her hand. She shook her head. âNo. Youâll break my heart.â
Bucky waited until she removed her hand before attempting to say a thing. âYou donât know what Iâve done, dollââ
âIâm sorryâyou think I didnât google you within an inch of your life, old man?â
He smiled, despite himself. âMy mistake.â
âPlease. I would be so proud if people knewâ
âOf me?â he asked, incredulous. âWhy?â
She leaned in and took the softest drag from his lips, eliciting something like a gasp of amazement from the man. âDoesnât make a lick of sense, does it?â she murmured against his mouth.
Bucky growled. âIf I could have you, I would shout it from the rooftops.â
âYou like me.â
âYou donât know the half of it.â He stood, looming over her hungrily. âCould I, doll?â
She would have descended into tears again if her heart wasnât bursting with happiness. âI would love that, Jamie.â
His eyes sparkle. âPeople will talk.â
âGood.â
âIâll⊠Iâll kiss you over the counter!â He gestured to the very counter which separated them daily. âOther people will see me do it.â
She snickered. âI hope they do.â
âSam will tell you about every time Iâve made a fool of myself watchinâ youââ
âI canât wait.â
âYouâre not ever gonna question me again, because Iâm gonna just come right out and say things. All the time.â For the first time in her memory, Bucky fully smiled. Beamed, even. His eyes were lively with excitement and he reached for her hand. He laced their fingers once more.Â
âIâm going to walk outta here right now, holding your hand.â He backed slowly towards the door of the kitchen, tugging her with him. âBecause I want to.â
âOkay,â she laughed. He was giddy, almost, at the prospect of getting to tell anyone who would listen that he was with her. Being seen together was a dream he didnât know was within reach. It made her heart clench.Â
âWaitââ She held up a finger and released him so she could dash back into the pantry. When she emerged from the kitchen with the little pastry box in hand, Bucky raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
âSaved a cupcake for my personal pity party,â she said. âI blew through three dozen of these before noon.â
âHmm⊠my cupcake is a best-seller, huh?â Bucky tucked her fingers in the crook of his elbow so he could draw her closer.
âUm. Every pastry I make is yours.â When he couldnât speak in shock, she nodded. âYouâre sort of my muse.â
âYouâre jokinâ.â
âGod, itâs embarrassingââ
âNo, no, no! Itâs the sweetest thing I ever heard, doll, I promise you.â Bucky stopped in the vestibule where the hallway forked west to the parking garage (where her car was parked), and east to the residential wing of the compound.Â
âWell.â She shrugged. âI take how youâre making me feel, and I say it in flour and sugar. Everything I couldnât tell you got baked into pastry. They all have names, too, but Iâm not quite ready to mortify myself by admitting some of them.â
He cupped her cheek. âWhatâd you call it today?â
âDonât laugh.â
âI wonât. Scoutâs honor.â
ââJamieâs Best Kept Tea-cake.ââ She braced herself for him to cringe, but he didn't.
Bucky looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. âI am an idiot. Never let me forget it.â He turned on his heel and hastened down the east hall. She had to practically skip to keep up.Â
âDo you hate it?â she panted.
âWhatâno!â He punched the up arrow to summon the elevator. âI love it.â
âI love you.â The sentiment flew from her tongue like it had been waiting for that very moment to spread its wings.
The elevator dinged to punctuate her admission, effectively squashing an otherwise perfect moment⊠made awkward by Sam Wilson on his way back from the gym, standing in the elevator and grinning. Bucky glanced between Sam and the woman who just admitted to loving him, and pulled her into the car.
âSam,â Bucky acknowledged. âYou rememberââ
âThe way you poured dark roast in your lap when she laughed? Sure do. Hi. How are you?â
âShe loves me,â Bucky said. She nudged his ribcage. âWhat? You do. Iâm in love with her, also.â
âIâve gleaned that prior to now,â Sam said smugly.
Her cheeks were hot, but she leaned into Buckyâs side in disbelief. âHi Sam. Iâm embarrassed.â
âDonât be. While weâre all sharing our feelings, heâs one of the best people I know, so. As far as Iâm concerned, this is a fantastic development. Which Iâm suspecting isnât a new one.â Sam smirked as Bucky scratched his head guiltily.Â
âWow. Thanks, man.â
âWhatcha got there?â Sam pointed at the little box in her hand.
âThatâs âJamieâs Best Kept Tea-cake,ââ Bucky explained proudly.Â
She squeezed his elbow. âItâs chamomile with lavender buttercream.â
âOh shit, the magic cupcake! He force-fed us all a bite at lunch. Five stars.â
âThanks.â She shared a smile with Sam. The elevator arrived on Buckyâs desired floor. Sam said little else, but offered a sly salute to the retreating form of his giddy best friend and the woman he couldnât stop talking about.
At Buckyâs door, he paused. âI didnâtâis this okay? Do you want to come in? You can use my on-suite shower. Water pressure is amazing. I have a very comfortable bedââ
She pressed up on her toes and kissed him quiet. âYou love me,â she murmured, âso Iâd like to go in.â
âIâm making a fool of myself right now, arenât I,â he breathed.
âNah. Youâre just⊠chatty.â
âI donât think I can stop.â
âItâs okay. 'S pretty cute.â
He smiled dreamily. âCute is good. I can work with that.â He let them into the room, but the moment the door shut behind her, he tensed up again. âUm. This is it. I donât have much.â
âJamie,â she soothed. âIâm so happy to be here, but Iâm exhausted. Iâll take you up on that shower, and we can talk more in the morning. Yeah?â
âOhâof course, doll, thereâs towelsâŠâ He babbled on, but she temporarily ignored him in favor of unwrapping the little box on his desk. She grabbed him mid-sentence by the front of the sweatshirt. Something had to be done to dissipate his adrenaline, which was hammering away full-throttle to force every little thought which crossed his brain to traverse his tongue, too.
âCâmere.â She held up the small cupcake and offered him the first bite. His lips grazed her thumb and forefinger, but her own chased them to capture the sugar of a kiss. He groaned into the flowery sweetness. She giggled when he dipped the tip of his finger into the frosting, only to drag it over her cupidâs bow. Warmth pooled between her thighs as he licked the purple sugar from her skin.
âShit,â he breathed. âIâm. Iâdoll.â
She laughed. âThat, James Barnes, is what you taste like after a cup of tea.â
âIf I wasnât already⊠I am, now.â He peered at her through half-lidded eyes, drunk on sugar and arousal.
âWhat?â
âIn love.â
He said nothing else. Every sentiment which she inspired in him paled in comparison to the feeling of her. The alphabet of her body was language enough to describe the utter terror of exposing every chamber of his heart, and still come up short for the measure of awe. And as for herâŠÂ
She had kept him locked away in a neighboring vein for so long, that letting the flow of Bucky Barnes through her senses overwhelmed her with the knowledge that yes, she loved him⊠and yet loved him more as he exposed his vulnerabilitiesâlike his 3-in-1 shower gel, and his pleasant striped pajama pants with frayed cuffs. He would be best kept at her side, of that much she was sure. Not a dirty secret in the pantry, but softly snoring against her shoulder, with no question of whether or not he wanted her, and an abundance of pretty things⊠many of which came frosted.
--
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In Every Lifetime
summary: When Buckyâs first love from the 1940âČs is found alive in cyro, he begins to question whether youâd turn from him in fear or disgust.Â
pairing: bucky x reader
word count: 5k
warnings:Â angsty angst (with a happy ending), buckyâs sad internal dialogue,Â
Bucky had half a mind to wonder whether his heart might truly escape his chest. It pounded infernally against his rib cage; violently shaking against the bones until they splintered and cracked, he was certain he might look down at the SHIELD emblem on his sweatshirt to find blood soaking through the fabric. Or perhaps the bones of his sternum piercing through his skin. Hell, he might have left his heart on the tile a few paces behind him â throbbing on the ground, exposed to the elements.
He hadnât so much as taken a breath since he caught word of what Stark uncovered in the Atlantic. It was only meant to be an exploratory mission; a simple means of honoring his fatherâs legacy by scanning the ocean depths in search of a history Howard had idolized in his time. Simple, apparently, to a billionaire with nothing but time on his well-manicured hands.  Â
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Undisclosed - Masterlist
Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky x Reader
Summary:Â Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadnât mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldnât leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either.Â
Warnings: Beefy!bucky, angst, references to death/crime, injury, toxicity, eventual smut (minors dni, marked **), a bit of slow burn!! Â
a/n: This series is now complete đ€
Series playlist â
â Chapter OneÂ
â Chapter TwoÂ
â Chapter ThreeÂ
â Chapter FourÂ
â Chapter Five
â Chapter Six**
â Chapter Seven
â Chapter EightÂ
â Chapter NineÂ
â Chapter Ten
â Epilogue
Series art!!
đ€ Bucky
đ€ Bucky and AlpineÂ
đ€SceneryÂ
đ€ Bucky at the diner
Extra content!!
Reader gets sick (drabble)
Spring in Stowe Mills (oneshot)
The bear attack (drabble)
Come Home (oneshot)
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I Need Him Like Water
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Summary: You think Buckyâs having an affair. He thinks⊠well you arenât sure what he thinks. But he must notice the living room light is left on. Every night.
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: Angst! (w/ a happy ending!), miscommunication, mentions of infidelity
a/n: I love feedback!! Please let me know what you think, it gives me motivation to write more :)
Masterlist
~~
The living room light was dim, just a yellow glow reflecting on bare brick walls and the satin of unused couches. You had meant to turn that lamp off an hour agoâwhen Bucky still hadnât come home and the clock still continued to tick past times you refused to acknowledge.Â
You had meant to be in bed before his boots even clicked past the threshold of your apartment.Â
He threw his jacket on the kitchen table, ignoring the coat closet where your own jacket was left hanging alone. The reprimand caught in your throat, guarded behind the firm line you had pressed your lips into. You blinked at the kitchen cabinets, the glass of water nearly slipping through your fingers.Â
âHey, sweetheart. You stay up waiting for me?âÂ
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best kept
[bucky barnes x baker!reader]
This is for Birdie's Birthday Bash Writing Challenge!! Happy happy birthday, @buckysbirdie â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž. This was such a fun way to pull myself back into the creative roll! You're a gem and you deserve to have a beautiful birthday fest.
For my prompts, I chose:đŠ Waffle Cone: Bucky Barnes |đ§ Birthday Cake: Baker | đ âYou deserve pretty things.â | đ Secretly dating | đ Mutual pining
warnings: idiots in love, miscommunication, fluff, mention of sex. no body descriptions, no use of y/n.
--
She didnât mean it the way it came outâyou deserve pretty thingsâlike a plea. She intended for the sentiment to land like an observation, based on their few-and-far-between conversations across the register, like the brew of the day is Breakfast Blend or itâs supposed to rain around three oâclock.
But damn him⊠he flushed. He didnât smile, quite, but his eyes flicked away and he cleared the embarrassment from his throat, handing over a bill too large for the small black coffee and the intricately frosted cupcake which had nearly given up the whole gambit to his companions, who hung at his elbow with an urgency which could only come from a post-mission adrenaline rush.Â
He was expressly forbidden from dating anyone inside the compound. He had made that abundantly clear as he fished the buttons of her baking uniform through the holes in the storage closet the day that pull between them became too much to bear. He had still kissed her like he had all the time in the world, and every moment they squirreled away thereafter was precious, but the longer they had to hide in the shadows⊠the harder it became to keep her tongue from whetting his plush lips where anyone could see. Especially when he picked out a cupcake he knew she had agonized over that morning, thanks to the hastily sent photo he received from the kitchen in the wee hours.
The way lavender buttercream would taste in a forbidden kiss⊠she ached for it.Â
He did deserve pretty things. He deserved much more than that, too. But he wouldnât let her say it. She tried, with her legs tangled in his, to tell him sincerely what he meant to her, how lucky she felt that he would even look her wayâbut he had shut her down with suffocating kisses and stole all coherent thought. He went another day without knowing she loved him, without her trying to make him listen to her say it.
Maybe thatâs why the comment burst out. When she couldnât say I love you, what could she say? You deserve pretty things, like the cupcake I created because all this love has no place to go, because chamomile is your favorite tea, because itâs one part of you that belongs only to me.
Bucky motioned for her to keep the generous change from his bill, and hastened to the far end of the caf to admire her work from a safe distance. She watched him walk away for only a split second, before turning her attention back to the red-headed woman with a cold brew addiction.
Just wait, his text said. The message had pinged from her back pocket while she ascertained whether or not Captain America wanted a savory scone, so she didnât see it until he and his cohort departed from the caf.Â
Clutching her phone over the stove long after the other staff headed home, she stared at the two little words from âJamie.â No punctuation to hang a hope on, ever. He wasnât one for soft sentiments. Bucky Barnes touched her with urgency, but he didnât speak her name with the reverence of a lover. He barely spoke at all, except to coax pleasure from her. She was starting to feel less like a choice, and more akin to a tool he used to blow off steam. It clawed at her heart, making her skin crawl with longing for just one fraction of the effort she was devoting⊠to a man who had never hidden that he wasnât supposed to be fucking her.Â
She couldnât take much more of such an empty arrangement. How could someone so enmeshed with her bones leave her so devoid of affection, even in the slightest? How could she love someone who stumbled away from a tryst like heâd been stung?
He never showed up before the night shift cleaners did their rounds, but he always showed.Â
Wait, she did. She jumped when cold vibranium fingers wrapped around her elbow, swiping furiously at her reddened eyes.Â
âChrist,â she breathed. âYouâre a fucking phantom.â She hazarded a glance at him, but his expression was hardened and unreadable. He was frozen at the sight of her persistent tears. She rolled her eyes and eased her arm out of his grip, putting the island between them. Despite the way every hair on her body stood on end in his presence, it was no use hiding the way his silence inspired more tears. She let them streak down her cheeks. When still he said nothing, anger stirred behind her ribs.
âHow was your cupcake?â she whispered.
âUm. Good.â Bucky leaned against the counter and folded his arms. The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepened. âChamomile?â
She nodded. âYour favorite. I, um. I sifted loose leaf tea in with the flour, I wasnât sure how it would go.â
âIt was good.âÂ
âGood.â She gripped the butcher block countertop so hard, her fingers ached.Â
Bucky let an agonizing minute pass. âYouâre crying,â he muttered. âWhy?â
She snorted. âTimâs wearing his big headphones while he does the floors tonight, if you want to risk it out hereâif you can stand to fuck a woman while sheâs sad.â
He was intelligent, she knew it. It hadnât taken long to see how his mind whirred to strategize around every possible obstacle to the opportunity to take her in a dark corner, and she couldnât dismiss the way his compatriots spoke about his work on assignment, even if she only overheard snippets of their conversations in the caf. It came as no surprise, then, when he scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed.Â
âYou wanna be alone. Iâll get out of your hair,â he said tersely.
âNoâgod.â She laughed, but it stabbed. âI want you. Here. I thought I had made that abundantly clear by sticking my hand down your pants at every opportunity.â
He blinked. âYouâre angry.â
âYeah. Yes, I am. IâmâI donât know how to say this,â she struggled. âWeâre better at the not-talking part of this arrangement. But if I donât get it out, Iâm going to pop!â
Bucky, to his credit, made no move to leave, though every muscle in his body seemed to tense up with the need to flee. Instead, he braced his hands against the counter behind him and nodded for her to say whatever was on her mind. It was then that she noticed that his hair was damp; he never came to her smelling of motor oil, or blood, or sweat, or any hint of whatever duty had demanded of him during the day. It made her want to sob. He came to her clean.
She studied the way his jaw flexed anxiously, and it gave her enough comfortâknowing he was uncomfortableâto make some sort of explanation come out.Â
âIâm selfish,â she started. âI thought that I could just be content sneaking around, because Iâve been clinging to every bit of affection I can get from you. It was fine for a while. More than fine, Jamieâgod, Iâm addicted,â she said sheepishly. âBut itâs not fun anymore, itâs like I need a fix of you, or I canât function. I hate that I canât kiss you where people can see. I hate that you donât say anything to make me think you want me half as much as I want you. I invented a fucking cupcake based on your kiss after a cup of tea. Iâfuck.â She looked up at the ceiling to hold back a new wave of emotion.
âYou never promised me anything, so I have no right demanding more from you,â she said. âSo. I donât think I can continue with my part of this arrangement, given thatâwell, considering that you canât even show interest in a person without creating a coup with Human Resourcesââ
âHang on,â he said softly. âWhat do you mean a coup?â
âYouâll get in trouble. Especially for sleeping with the cupcake womanââ
âIâm not following,â he said. Then, it dawned on him. âDollâŠâ Bucky chuckled. From the depths of his chest, a warm and wooly sound that brought heat to her cheeks. He smiled even as he swiped a thumb across his bottom lip.
âI see what this is,â Bucky said. His blue eyes flicked up to meet her gaze and her stomach flipped. Gone was the frown from his expression, and instead, a strange and unfamiliar lightness took its place. âYou shouldâve told me.â
âWhat?â she breathed.
Bucky pushed off the counter and walked around the island slowly, until he caged her back against the wood. The scent of his soapâsandalwood and cedarâfilled her nostrils. He tipped her chin up.Â
âYou seem to be under the impression that I come here to get my rocks off, and not because I have a sweet tooth. And Iâm kickinâ myself for not seeing it sooner. God help me, doll: when Iâm around you, I lose all rational thought.â
She wound her fingers into the front of his sweatshirt, a soft and well-worn thing with a faded SHIELD logo over the left pec. âPardon my French, but those are the most words in a row Iâve heard out of your fucking mouth, maybe ever.â
ââM a shy guy,â he said.Â
âI have tried to talk to you about this for monthsââ
Bucky winced. âShit.â
âYeah! You shut me up every time! Heyâstop staring at my mouth.â
He raised an eyebrow as if to say well, go ahead. For good measure, he sat on the stool at the lip of the counter, and bracketed her between his knees. She sighed.
âI donât know how long this can continue if it can never be more than a secret,â she admitted.
Bucky cleared his throat.â...Are you under the impression that SHIELD has a stake in my personal relationships?âÂ
She blinked. âYou said it did.â
âWhen?â
âUm. The first time. In the pantry.âÂ
He frowned again and looked at the pantry door like it might project the exact conversation they had, amidst a feverish tryst. âI donât think I did,â he said.
ââTheyâll grill me and everyone in the compound will knowââ You were pretty clear that nobody could know about us. You kept saying it. âThey canât know. They canât know.ââ
âIâm not sure I was thinking about anything but putting my head between your legs,â he said frankly, which made her shiver. âNick Fury doesnât care about interpersonal relationships as long as they donât interfere with our work. The guys, however, already give me shit for how often I miss my mouth with coffee because Iâm watching the cupcake woman and her damned smile. I was probably talking about them. But I donât remember, and Iâm sorry youâve been losing sleep over it.â
âI havenât been losing sleep,â she said bashfully, though her lip slipping into her mouth revealed what a lie that was.Â
âDonât you see how messed up I am over you?â The question came out of his mouth like a blessing. She stared at him in astonishment, which made the tips of his ears turn pink. âI may be bad at sayinâ it, doll, but Iâm acting up like a lovesick man.â Bucky tucked his fingers into the back pockets of her jeans to pull her closer. âYouâve been hurting. Havenât you?â When she nodded, his face fell. He huffed. âThat wonât do.â
âTell me,â she asked. âPlease, Jamie.â
âYou really been thinkinâ about something I said in the heat of the moment⊠shit, a year ago?â
âWords are precious, where youâre concerned.â
Bucky looked up at her like the sentiment struck a raw nerve. He shook his head. âIâll be better.â
âYouâve already tripled your usual output,â she teased, letting her hands slide to his jaw. âItâs no wonder youâre good at keeping secrets.â
âWhat would people say if they knew?â
âStop. Youâre trying to save me from compound gossip?â
He studied her well-loved shoes and the flour which adorned the toes like a deliberate style choice. âAm I a coward?â
âYeah,â she said, but she brushed his cheek. âFor the sake of clarity⊠SHIELD doesnât care, but your friends will tease you, and people might gossip, so thatâs why youâve never actually taken me to your room, and why weâve been sneaking around for the better part of a year?â
Bucky cringed. âIn my defense, I thought you got off on it.â
âI didâI do. But I spend about thirteen hours a day on my feet in this damn kitchen. It would be nice to have sex horizontal for once, and not bent over the sink I wash dishes in! Maybe even laying down on a mattress, as crazy as that sounds.âÂ
âYou wild woman, you.â He laced his fingers behind her knees. âIâm sorry. All this because Iâm afraid of people thinkinâ--it doesnât matter, right?â
âOh, youâre just now realizing that?â She swatted him on the shoulder. âWe shouldâve had this conversation eleven months ago!â
He didnât say anything for a while, but he leaned into her fingers where they dug at the knot in his shoulder while he pondered where they had gone wrong. He gripped her wrist so he could entwine their fingers and study the raised veins on the back of her hand with a curious thumb.Â
âI always buy whatever pastry you made special for the day,â Bucky said, as if it was a revelation he was making at that exact moment. âI tip you like Rockafeller. I canât stand the thought of stinking in your presence, so some days I shower twice. I scan the personnel report every morning to make sure youâre on the premises. I check my phone seven hundred times an hour on the off chance you text me. I dream about you. I wake up smelling your perfume. IâmâIâm your damned satellite, woman.â
âThen why are you so worried about people knowing?â she asked it, but she gleaned the answer the moment it left her lips and she pressed her fingers to his to stop him from saying it. His lips pursed behind her hand. She shook her head. âNo. Youâll break my heart.â
Bucky waited until she removed her hand before attempting to say a thing. âYou donât know what Iâve done, dollââ
âIâm sorryâyou think I didnât google you within an inch of your life, old man?â
He smiled, despite himself. âMy mistake.â
âPlease. I would be so proud if people knewâ
âOf me?â he asked, incredulous. âWhy?â
She leaned in and took the softest drag from his lips, eliciting something like a gasp of amazement from the man. âDoesnât make a lick of sense, does it?â she murmured against his mouth.
Bucky growled. âIf I could have you, I would shout it from the rooftops.â
âYou like me.â
âYou donât know the half of it.â He stood, looming over her hungrily. âCould I, doll?â
She would have descended into tears again if her heart wasnât bursting with happiness. âI would love that, Jamie.â
His eyes sparkle. âPeople will talk.â
âGood.â
âIâll⊠Iâll kiss you over the counter!â He gestured to the very counter which separated them daily. âOther people will see me do it.â
She snickered. âI hope they do.â
âSam will tell you about every time Iâve made a fool of myself watchinâ youââ
âI canât wait.â
âYouâre not ever gonna question me again, because Iâm gonna just come right out and say things. All the time.â For the first time in her memory, Bucky fully smiled. Beamed, even. His eyes were lively with excitement and he reached for her hand. He laced their fingers once more.Â
âIâm going to walk outta here right now, holding your hand.â He backed slowly towards the door of the kitchen, tugging her with him. âBecause I want to.â
âOkay,â she laughed. He was giddy, almost, at the prospect of getting to tell anyone who would listen that he was with her. Being seen together was a dream he didnât know was within reach. It made her heart clench.Â
âWaitââ She held up a finger and released him so she could dash back into the pantry. When she emerged from the kitchen with the little pastry box in hand, Bucky raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
âSaved a cupcake for my personal pity party,â she said. âI blew through three dozen of these before noon.â
âHmm⊠my cupcake is a best-seller, huh?â Bucky tucked her fingers in the crook of his elbow so he could draw her closer.
âUm. Every pastry I make is yours.â When he couldnât speak in shock, she nodded. âYouâre sort of my muse.â
âYouâre jokinâ.â
âGod, itâs embarrassingââ
âNo, no, no! Itâs the sweetest thing I ever heard, doll, I promise you.â Bucky stopped in the vestibule where the hallway forked west to the parking garage (where her car was parked), and east to the residential wing of the compound.Â
âWell.â She shrugged. âI take how youâre making me feel, and I say it in flour and sugar. Everything I couldnât tell you got baked into pastry. They all have names, too, but Iâm not quite ready to mortify myself by admitting some of them.â
He cupped her cheek. âWhatâd you call it today?â
âDonât laugh.â
âI wonât. Scoutâs honor.â
ââJamieâs Best Kept Tea-cake.ââ She braced herself for him to cringe, but he didn't.
Bucky looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. âI am an idiot. Never let me forget it.â He turned on his heel and hastened down the east hall. She had to practically skip to keep up.Â
âDo you hate it?â she panted.
âWhatâno!â He punched the up arrow to summon the elevator. âI love it.â
âI love you.â The sentiment flew from her tongue like it had been waiting for that very moment to spread its wings.
The elevator dinged to punctuate her admission, effectively squashing an otherwise perfect moment⊠made awkward by Sam Wilson on his way back from the gym, standing in the elevator and grinning. Bucky glanced between Sam and the woman who just admitted to loving him, and pulled her into the car.
âSam,â Bucky acknowledged. âYou rememberââ
âThe way you poured dark roast in your lap when she laughed? Sure do. Hi. How are you?â
âShe loves me,â Bucky said. She nudged his ribcage. âWhat? You do. Iâm in love with her, also.â
âIâve gleaned that prior to now,â Sam said smugly.
Her cheeks were hot, but she leaned into Buckyâs side in disbelief. âHi Sam. Iâm embarrassed.â
âDonât be. While weâre all sharing our feelings, heâs one of the best people I know, so. As far as Iâm concerned, this is a fantastic development. Which Iâm suspecting isnât a new one.â Sam smirked as Bucky scratched his head guiltily.Â
âWow. Thanks, man.â
âWhatcha got there?â Sam pointed at the little box in her hand.
âThatâs âJamieâs Best Kept Tea-cake,ââ Bucky explained proudly.Â
She squeezed his elbow. âItâs chamomile with lavender buttercream.â
âOh shit, the magic cupcake! He force-fed us all a bite at lunch. Five stars.â
âThanks.â She shared a smile with Sam. The elevator arrived on Buckyâs desired floor. Sam said little else, but offered a sly salute to the retreating form of his giddy best friend and the woman he couldnât stop talking about.
At Buckyâs door, he paused. âI didnâtâis this okay? Do you want to come in? You can use my on-suite shower. Water pressure is amazing. I have a very comfortable bedââ
She pressed up on her toes and kissed him quiet. âYou love me,â she murmured, âso Iâd like to go in.â
âIâm making a fool of myself right now, arenât I,â he breathed.
âNah. Youâre just⊠chatty.â
âI donât think I can stop.â
âItâs okay. 'S pretty cute.â
He smiled dreamily. âCute is good. I can work with that.â He let them into the room, but the moment the door shut behind her, he tensed up again. âUm. This is it. I donât have much.â
âJamie,â she soothed. âIâm so happy to be here, but Iâm exhausted. Iâll take you up on that shower, and we can talk more in the morning. Yeah?â
âOhâof course, doll, thereâs towelsâŠâ He babbled on, but she temporarily ignored him in favor of unwrapping the little box on his desk. She grabbed him mid-sentence by the front of the sweatshirt. Something had to be done to dissipate his adrenaline, which was hammering away full-throttle to force every little thought which crossed his brain to traverse his tongue, too.
âCâmere.â She held up the small cupcake and offered him the first bite. His lips grazed her thumb and forefinger, but her own chased them to capture the sugar of a kiss. He groaned into the flowery sweetness. She giggled when he dipped the tip of his finger into the frosting, only to drag it over her cupidâs bow. Warmth pooled between her thighs as he licked the purple sugar from her skin.
âShit,â he breathed. âIâm. Iâdoll.â
She laughed. âThat, James Barnes, is what you taste like after a cup of tea.â
âIf I wasnât already⊠I am, now.â He peered at her through half-lidded eyes, drunk on sugar and arousal.
âWhat?â
âIn love.â
He said nothing else. Every sentiment which she inspired in him paled in comparison to the feeling of her. The alphabet of her body was language enough to describe the utter terror of exposing every chamber of his heart, and still come up short for the measure of awe. And as for herâŠÂ
She had kept him locked away in a neighboring vein for so long, that letting the flow of Bucky Barnes through her senses overwhelmed her with the knowledge that yes, she loved him⊠and yet loved him more as he exposed his vulnerabilitiesâlike his 3-in-1 shower gel, and his pleasant striped pajama pants with frayed cuffs. He would be best kept at her side, of that much she was sure. Not a dirty secret in the pantry, but softly snoring against her shoulder, with no question of whether or not he wanted her, and an abundance of pretty things⊠many of which came frosted.
--
Thanks for reading! :)
my masterlist - my bucky barnes masterlist
bucky tag list: @peterhollandkait @nahthanks @honeywithemoney @dracris33
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attention
tfatws!bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: itâs been too long since youâve been with bucky, and youâre desperate for each otherâs attention. no obstacles, and i mean none, are gonna get in your way.
warnings: smut, unprotected sex (no glove no love!), breeding kink, dirty talk, no plot, just filth. gets a little angsty at the end
notes: sorry for the long time no post, school & work are kicking my ass rn ngl. hoping to get into a regular writing schedule! took heavy inspo from some of @becca-e-barnesâ bucky thots because i fr cannot stop thinking about them.
Buckyâs chest moves up and down underneath the weight of your head, your thigh wrapped around his legs, holding the larger man down to the bed under you. His metal arm is tight around your waist, holding you protectively to his warmth, fingers stroking the exposed skin of your upper arm.
Some sitcom is playing on your TV â one youâve been practically begging Bucky to watch. He doesnât get half of the jokes, doesnât understand why you love it so much, but heâll do anything to make you happy, and anything to spend time with you.
This is the first time youâve seen him in a few weeks. Heâs been off on some mission with Sam and Torres, one heâs barely talked about, but you can concur it has something to do with some off-the-rails, self-proclaimed vigilante in Europe. Youâve already said your hellos at the door; a bear hug, kisses all over you, touching every part of skin he can reach, picking you up and tossing you down on your bed to wrap you up in his cocoon.
You know he needs to rest. You know he hasnât gotten a break or a chance to lie down since he left. And you know heâs perfectly content just holding you for hours. Youâve just started having sex a few months ago, and even then it took him forever to muster up the courage; the man hadnât been laid in decades, he was practically shaking the moment you even suggested it to him.
But you really donât know how much longer you can ignore the ache between your thighs.
Youâre sure he can sense it; those enhanced nose and ears of his, if he canât hear how your heart skips beats he can for sure smell the arousal coating your legs and sticking to your leggings. Itâs uncomfortable, really, the way the fabric of his jeans rubs perfectly against your heat â but itâs not enough. You need him. You need his skin, need his hands, need his cock.
His flesh hand glides up and down the expanse of your thigh, thumb rubbing oh-so-carefully, and it almost makes you snap. Almost.
Bucky nudges your head with his chin, prompting you to lift your head, gaze up at him â
His lips engulf yours, too harsh for their own good, practically teeth on teeth, but you really couldnât give much of a shit. The way he grabs onto you, pulls you up and closer to him so he can kiss you harder, plunge his tongue in your mouth, itâs fucking exhilarating.
âI can fuckinâ smell you, doll,â He grunts, lips parting just for a second, âDrivinâ me crazy.â
âI canât help it,â You practically whimper. âI missed you.â
He hums, nose bumping against yours, hands exploring your body just to squeeze your ass. âI missed you too. So goddamn much.â
Youâre kissing again, breathing down each otherâs throats as he pushes you to lay down on the bed, grabbing your thighs and wrapping them around his waist. You blindly search for the remote, shutting the forgotten TV off and tugging on his overgrown hair.
Bucky moves on to your throat, licking, sucking and kissing every square inch of it, marking you like youâre a canvas, biting down every so often just to hear the cries that escape you. His hands tickle underneath your shirt, grasping at your bra-covered breasts and squeezing.
âBucky,â You moan, gasping, âJames, I- fuck, stop teasing, please. Been too long.â
He literally rips your leggings off of your skin â torn fabric tossed to the side as he manhandled your legs up in the air, crawling down and in-between them.
ââM sorry,â Bucky apologizes, but clearly doesnât mean it. âIâll buy you a new pair.â
He splatters kisses all along your thighs, leaving one in the middle of your panties, right against your mound. Your thighs twitch over his shoulders, heel digging into his skin.
Pushing your underwear to the side, he licks a bold stripe from the bottom of your cunt to the top, engulfing your pussy into his mouth. Heâs like a starved man â eating you like youâre his last meal on this earth, fingers gripping your legs so hard the tips turn white.
For a guy who comes from a time where womenâs pleasure wasnât in the spotlight, the man knows how to make you fucking quiver.
âBucky,â You tug on his hair, making him moan against your cunt. The vibrations have you biting your lip, tossing your head back, but youâll be damned if you donât get your words out. âFuck, please â I need your cock so fucking bad.â
Another loud, rippling groan against your cunt.
Bucky pulls away, face covered in slick, wiping it with the back of his hand, like an animal thats just devoured its prey. He crawls up your body, pulling you in for a kiss. You whimper as you taste yourself against his tongue.
Itâs all a flash, you tearing the rest of your clothes off, and Bucky taking his hard and heavy cock out of the confines of his pants.
Your mouths are on each-other again, listening to his symphony of grunts as you work your hand up and down his length. Heâs throbbing in your hand, hot to the touch.
âFuck,â He groans, pulling away. âFuck!â
âWhat?â
âI didnât bring a fuckinâ condom.â
Fuck.
You used up all of yours the last time you saw him â and you didnât buy any more. It was all so fast, he didnât warn you about when he was coming back, he just showed up at your doorâ fuck.
âFuck!â
Fuck.
You stare at each other for a second, his cock still hard in your hand, spit still dripping from his lips, hair still messy from your fingers.
âJust fuck me.â
His eyes widen. âWhat?â
âJust fuck me raw.â
His cock throbs at that. âYou canât say shit like that, doll, fuck.â
âJust pull out.â Youâre pulling him down, kissing his face and wrapping him closer to you. âJust pull out, itâs okay â I need it so fucking bad, please. Just fuck me raw.â
He makes a noise youâve never heard him make before, somewhere between a whimper and a moan. You can feel him lulling it over, eyes shut so tight you know all he can see is red.
âOkay. Fuck, okay.â
Bucky grabs the side of your throat, pulling you in to leave sloppy kisses on the other side, positioning himself at your entrance. You push his cock in with your hand, moaning as soon as he breaches your entrance, just the tip is enough to feel like youâre being ripped open.
He lets out a heavy groan, burying his face into your shoulder. You move your hands to his ass, pushing down to help him get even deeper. As soon as he bottoms out, you can feel the dull ache in you, nails lightly scratching against his skin.
âItâs so fucking good,â Heâs already thrusting, shallowly pushing against your walls. âOh fuck.â
The feeling of your raw cunt wrapped around him, no barriers in-between is indescribable. He can feel the pleasure crawling up his spine, your wetness dripping down his cock â he feels like heâs practically drowning in your pussy.
âMove,â You moan, âFaster, please.â
Who is he to deny you?
He goes faster, deeper, cock angled to hit just the right spot, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. All you can hear are the sinful sounds of skin-on-skin and his moans right up against your ear.
âYouâre so fuckinâ tight, honey, always so so good for me, doll. Fuck, your pussy feels so fuckinâ good, Iâm not- I donât think Iâm gonna last that long.â
You kiss the side of his head, telling him itâs okay. You reach your hand, as much as you can muster, between the two of you, rubbing your clit in circles to help you get there faster.
Bucky props himself up on his arms, hovering above you. He uses the leverage to fuck you harder, pounding you into the mattress â âYeah, baby, rub that clit for me. Thatâs so fucking sexy- You gonna cum for me?â
You moan as a response, rubbing faster, working yourself in tandem with his thrusts. âYes, yes, gonna cum all over your cock, Buck. Fuck, Iâm so close.â
Heâs grunting, moaning like youâve never heard him, eyebrows furrowed so hard as he tries his best not to close his eyes. He wants to keep looking, see how your tits bounce for him, see how you rub that pretty pussy for him, but the pleasureâs so overwhelming, he can practically feel his body yelling at him to just shut his eyes.
You cunt clenches around him in the way heâs so familiar with, but so different this time â your raw cunt contracting around his cock, squeezing him so hard like youâre trying to trap him inside.
âIâm gonna cum, Bucky, Iâm gonna cum so fuckinâ hard, please!â
âGod, yes, please,â He sobs. âCum on my cock, honey, make a fuckinâ mess on me. I missed this pussy so fuckinâ much â couldnât stop thinkinâ about you cumming around me, fucking jerked myself off every night thinkinâ about it, but itâs never the same â nothinâs ever the same as your cunt, honey, nothinâ feels this fucking good.â
Youâre moaning, gasping, hand grasping the sheets so hard you think they might tear. The rope in your stomach rips hard, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. He keeps fucking you through it, keeps hitting that spot, and you can feel it building, feel it keep going, feel yourself cum harder than you can by yourself.
âOh fuck,â Bucky whines, hips stuttering. ââM gonna cum. Fuck, âm gonna cum-â
You donât want him to leave your cunt, donât want to feel empty â so you wrap your legs around him, keeping him there, keeping him from pulling out.
âDoll-â He stutters, âYou gotta stop, I canât- I canât come in you, youâre not on birth control- fuck, I gotta pull out!â
âDonât, please,â You beg. âCum inside me, fill me up, please- I want it, want it so bad.â
âYou canât say that. Fuck, you canât say that.â
âFill me up, Buck- Shit, make me a mommy.â Youâre whining in his ear, pushing him deeper inside you. âPlease.â
He sobs in your shoulder, but he doesnât stop. If anything, his thrusts get faster, harder, the bed slamming against the wall with the force of them.
âYou want it?â Bucky grunts, âWant me to fill you up? Fuck, was this your plan? Get me to fuck you raw, just so I could fill your greedy little cunt full? That what you wanted this whole time, huh?â
âYes, yes, please!â
âGod, youâre such-â He grits, stopping himself. ââM gonna make you a mommy. Gonna fill this cunt up so fuckinâ full, youâre gonna be dripping.â
All you can do is whine, nails marking his back, legs tight around his waist.
âOh shit,â Buckyâs practically drooling, thrusts stuttering in pace. âIâm cumming. Fuck, Iâm cumming â take it, fuckinâ take it all-â
With one hard, final thrust, he stills. His orgasm rips through him like a knife, filling you up with more of his spend than you know what to do with. His cum leaking out of you, flooding your cunt â he keeps cumming for what feels like minutes, just moaning, twitching, gripping you tight against him as he unloads into your body.
The force of his orgasm triggers another out of you. Itâs lighter than the last, less intense, but it still leaves you trembling underneath him.
After a few minutes, your breath evens, bodies stilling. When he collapses against you, you push on his shoulder, giving him the cue to roll over.
Neither of you say anything when he takes you to the bathroom to clean up. You both hop in the shower, running it hot as you carefully wash each other, carefully skimming the scratch marks and bruises left on each otherâs skin.
ââM sorry.â He says, finally.
âWhat?â You ask, looking up at him. âWhat are you sorry for?â
âI got- I got rough, at the end. Got mean.âHe mutters, avoiding your gaze. ââM sorry. Shouldnât have gone like that.â
You laugh, light and airy, cupping his face in your hands. âBucky, I liked it. A lot.â
He finally, finally looks at you. âReally?â
You smile. âYes, really. Donât ever apologize for that, especially since I was majorly encouraging it.â
He returns your smile, and then gives you a kiss, softer than the ones you exchanged before. The waterâs steam runs off your tired bodies, and you wrap yourselves in each otherâs grasps, saving the rest of it for another day.
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Okay what about a Bucky x reader where buckys had a long day and the reader can tell so she dresses up like a 40âs pinup girl for him?
pairings: bucky barnes x reader
warnings: m in f penetration, handjob, fingering, creampie, eating cum, unprotected sex, slight degredation, praise
a/n: GIRL WHEN I SAW THIS IN MY ASKSSSS YOU KNOW I HAD TO DO IT!! this idea is so hot god i love it!! thank u so much for requesting
Bad day at work. Iâm gonna be home late. I need a drink. A lot of them. Go to sleep without me, Iâll be home later, I just need to be alone. I love you.
You looked at the text on your phone then up to yourself over and over again in nervousness. You wanted to leave him alone, it was what you always did on his bad days when he came home upset. But giving him space never did anything, it only enabled him being upset for days on end, and it was hard for you to watch him struggle.
Today you tried something different. You wanted to make it about him. Everything was about you, what he cooked, what he did, even the bedroom, but not tonight.
You couldnât help but remember him mentioning what magazines and girls the soldiers looked at back in the war, he even showed you an old magazine Steve had found. He was joking, only trying to show you memories, but the image was burnt in your mind. Solider Buck, hand in pants, starting at the girls he didnât know in magazines.
Which is why you had on a semi long red dress with white polka dots. It was skin tight on your upper half, accentuating the size of your waist, and and it flowed waist down. It matched well with your red lipstick and soft makeup, along with your lightly curled hair.
You look like a girl in an old magazine.
When the door opened, you knew that was it, there was no turning back. You stayed still, trying not to let your overthinking get the best of you. You stayed seated on the counter, eating chocolate you had from a week back that Bucky brought for you.
His eyes were on the floor, but he tilted his head up at the realization of your presence, his eyes widening. He wanted to feel confused, but he was too amazed to feel it. You looked perfect, sprawled out on the kitchen island in a little 50s dress for him, âWhat are you wearing?â
âI found this in my closet,â you lied, knowing damn well you bought it days prior to surprise him. You dangled your legs over the edge of the counter, watching Bucky get closer, âDo you like it?â
âYes,â he answered embarrassingly quickly, âYou look beautiful.â
âI wanted to look pretty for you,â you smiled, grabbing chocolate from the tray and grabbing his arm to pull him closer. You grabbed his face with one hand and used your other to gently put the chocolate to his mouth. He opened his mouth slightly and grabbed the chocolate from your hand, watching you suck the residue off your fingers, âI missed you.â
âI missed you too,â he smiled, not sure how to react. He was so used to silence and solitude when he had a hard day at work or on a mission, but this was a different feeling for him.
âHow was work?â
âBad,â he scoffed, brushing the hair from your face, âNo body got hurt or anything, it was just a mistake I made. I kept insisting on something and it turned out I was wrong and we all just argued. It was annoying.â
âIâm sorry, Buck,â you frowned, leaning in to press a kiss to his frowned lips, âMaybe I could make you feel better.â
His eyebrows furrowed but quickly raised in realization when you grabbed the belt loops on his pants to tug him closer, âI just want to take care of my favorite soldier.â
He looked speechless, mouth slightly agape in hesitance. He wanted to, God, in your outfit he wanted nothing more than that, but he was so used to the bedroom always being about you. He loved it that way, he loved making every move about making you shake beneath him, it was all he wanted to know. But your offer was tempting, âLet me take care of you.â
He nodded softly, his eyes glistening as you went in to press a kiss to the end of his jaw, then prickle more to his neck. You sucked on his neck softly as you gripped the bottom of his shirt, which he was quick to remove. He grabbed your waist and kept you planted on the counter as he closed his eyes, enjoying your assault on his neck.
You jumped off the counter, standing in front of him and having him slightly press you into the counter. You kissed lower onto his chest, then took it upon yourself to kiss all the way down to his happy trail. When you reached it, you pressed your tongue flat against his abs and licked up, all the way to his neck and kissing his lips. He was quick to stick his tongue in your throat, which you accepted for only a moment before getting onto your knees.
âAre you sure you wanna do this?â Bucky mumbled, hoping youâd continue. He took your light scoff and continuations as a yes.
You unbuttoned his pants and grabbed them, pulling them slowly down his legs. You were quicker to grab his boxers and pull them down, revealing what you wanted. All ten inches of him stood straight up, tapping his stomach as your gingers grazed the base.
He grabbed the counters as you began stroking him underneath the table and gave him soft kisses, âWhatâs got you so hard, Buck?â
âYou,â he responded fast, his breath uneven, âYour dress, fuckâ You look so beautiful. If I saw you back in the 50s, I wouldâve thought you were the most perfect girl Iâd ever seen, just like now.â
You stood up and continued jerking him off, turning so you were in front of him. You wanted to see his face. You kissed his neck as you jerked faster, âWhere would you have taken me on a date back then?â
âThe movies, for sure,â he threw his head back as you collected spit on your palm and jerked him off stronger than before, âWe would have kissed in the backâ Fuck, that feels goodâ Taken you to get food after.â
âWhat would happen after the date?â
He realized what you were getting at as he closed his eyes, just imagining it, âUsually Iâd wait to go back to my house, but I wouldnât be able to wait with youâ Oh, god, oh, jesusâ I-Iâd put you in the back of my car and shove my face in you, ruin you until you could never fuck another man again.â
He took a deep breath and let out a drawn out moan, his eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as you sped up, âIâd put you on top of me, let you ride me until you got what you wanted out of it. Iâd fuck you so good.â
You felt yourself getting wetter at his words, and it was driving Buckyâs super senses insane, âI can smell you, fuck.â
He grabbed your waist and seperated you from him. He wanted to be delicate, but how could he when you looked so perfect? He found the buttons and accidentally broke a few, but undid them as fast as he could. He took no time to take the dress off of you, his breath stopping at the black lacy bra that had underwear to match. He put his hand out to trace the lace along the underwear, his hand stopping at your crotch. He cupped it slightly before you backed away, âThis is about you, stop.â
âDonât starve a man,â he whined, his eyes furrowing in desperation. He picked you up and sat you on the counter, spreading your legs as he watched you shake your head at his request, âBaby, do you want me to go crazy? I canât cum until I eat you, be nice. I just want a little, just for a minute, okay? Then you can do whatever you want to me.â
âYouâre like a starved dog, jesus,â you mocked, scoffing at him and letting him spread your legs. He always got what he wanted, and as good as it felt, you wanted to focus on him.
âYou asked what I would have done to you in the forties?â He asked, sticking his hand into your underwear and rubbing you slowly, moving your wetness around to lube everything up, âI would have left that little dress on, and made you sit on my face. Iâd want your smell on me for days so anytime I did anything, Iâd think about what it felt like for you to hump my face.â
You breathed slowly at his confession, grinding onto his hand. He inserted two fingers, watching your mouth open as he did so. He stopped his fingers to let you adjust before moving them again, âYou canât even take my fingersâ How am I gonna fit?â
His mocking tone was sending you over the edge, making your eyes close as he fingered you more rapidly, âWhat? Does that get you off? Me having to stuff you so full cause I barely fit?â
You moaned at his words, nodding rapidly as he fingered you at a quicker pace, âLook at youâ Spread out for me with your slutty lace underwearâ You look so fucking hot.â
He always made things about you when you did things, but he knew tonight you wanted him to get pleasure out of it all. He did something he was hesitant to do, but God did it feel good.
He rubbed himself slowly against your thigh as he fingered you, grinding on you like a dog in heat. You looked down, letting out the most unbelievable moan at the sight, making his eyes widen, âWhen you moan like that, I swear I could cum just humping you like a teenager.â
You arched your back and grabbed his arm, shaking your head, âBucky, just fuck me, please.â
He removed his hand from your underwear and stuck his fingers in his mouth, moaning around them as he closed his eyes, licking up every drop he could, âYou taste so good, look.â
He brought his fingers to your mouth and watched you take them in, tasting yourself. You hallowed your cheeks around him as he spoke, âYou look like such a whore like thisâ Tasting yourself on my fingers. Youâre meant to be fucked when you taste that good.â
He grabbed your underwear and turned it to the side, keeping on the sexy lace as he ran his dick over your wetness, making your body shiver. He stuck his head inside of you, then was slow to stick the rest of him in as well. When he was fully buried, he waited til you looked adjust to flip the both of you over, so you straddled his waist, âRide me.â
You lifted yourself up before planting yourself back down, âBuckyâ Youâre so deep, fuck.â
You kept bouncing up and down, the sight of your tits jumping with you sending Bucky into overdrive, âI want you to cum inside me, Bucky, please.â
His eyes clenched shut at your words as he nodded, nearly busting at the words you just said, âIâll fuck all my cum into you, baby, I promise.â
âTake what you want, milk me, God,â he moaned as you grinded on him, spelling your name with your hips. You grabbed your own chest, grabbing your nipples through your bra, âYouâre so worked up, look at youâ Greedy and fucked outâ I could just fuck you whenever I wanted cause youâre always so wet for me.â
You nodded, bouncing faster and leaning down a bit to look at him, âYou shouldâ Fuck me whenever you want. When Iâm cooking, showering, reading, just come and fuck me. Iâll take whatever you give me.â
âYou sound like such a slut when you say that,â his eyebrows knit together, his hand coming to yo ur face. You grabbed his thumb and stuck it in your mouth, âYouâre so unreal.â
Your body winced as you continued riding him, âIâm cumming, oh god, oh my fucking godââ
âCum for me,â he mumbled, knowing he was on edge too. You moaned before you collapsed on him, but right when you did, you felt something in you happen.
He let go and you felt ropes of cum endlessly paint your insides. It was never ending, the serum had made him cum for minutes on end. You were getting so full of cum, âBucky, youâre filling me up so much, itâs leaking.â
âTake it,â he moaned, feeling the last few drops leak out of you as he pulled out.
He flipped you on your back, his eyes now on your lower half. He nearly came again at the sight of your wet pussy leaking his cum, it was dripping out so much.
He put his finger inside of you, shoving all the cum left into you harder. You shivered at the sudden overstimulation he was causing since you just came, âWhat are you doing?â
âMaking sure you donât waste any,â he smirked, taking his finger out and grabbing all the cum that had dripped out and bringing it to your mouth. You took it all, drinking his cum off his fingers as you grabbed his hand, looking at him.
âI want you to cum againâ But in my mouth this time.â
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