staley83

[staley83]

heaven sent — j.b.b

congressman!barnes x bunny!reader

eighteen plus! minors dni! smut — collar and leash, bunny headspace, daddy title, cum eating, teasing, dom/sub dynamic, breeding kink, size kink, bucky is kinda mean. idk. self indulgent 😵‍💫

a/n — also listened to ass like that by victoria monet when you’re humping him <3 also this is just pure fucking filth man idk. thought of @desiredsoldier since i was his first bunny <3

here you were — kneeling at the end of the bed like a good pet he knew you were. hands placed precariously on your exposed knees, goosebumps decorating your body deliciously as the ac nipped your skin.

“home soon, babydoll.”

he was going to be home a little bit and you had to stay in your place waiting for him. the text he just sent was a reminder that you had to stay put — had to present your collar and leash that was laid out right next to you, for him the second he walked through the threshold of the door.

but you couldn’t ignore the ache that was in between your thighs as you pressed them firmly together.

it was hard, him having a big day job meant he wasn’t around as much anymore. you tried visiting him in the office but…those visits didn’t usually end with talking. and he saw it too important at the time to risk anything.

you heard the faint click and thud of the front door shutting and locking, followed by heavy footsteps through the corridor. your cunt fluttering in anticipation — waiting for your big brooding man to come thru the door and see you waiting like a good girl.

but he didn’t.

instead you heard the bathroom door slowly creak open, the shower head squeaking and turning on full blast, then the same squeak of the door.

you pouted.

did he forget?

no, he never forgot. and he wouldn’t just leave you sitting here waiting for nothing.

no of course not. he wanted you aching for him, dripping so much on the sheets that you had a wet spot right under you.

he needed you so far into your pet headspace that only he could think for you.

he had a hell of a day anyways.

you heard a tune being carried out through the loud echo of the shower from the closed door. there were two entry points for the bathroom — one from the hallway and one from the bedroom.

your eyes kept close eye on the shadows underneath the door, that you hadn’t registered how much time had past. you eventually saw them leave under the door and before you knew it — the bedroom door was being pushed open.

you startled for a moment. “oh—!”

he stood there at his full height, hair wet and tossed from just having washed it. some water droplets clung to his tan skin running down the expanse of his broad chest and abs and below.

some even got caught in that happy trail he had. with the slight peak of a silver ball over the top of the towel —

“eyes here.” a loud snap brought your eyes locking with bucky’s instantly — a grin on his lips. amused you jumped.

“scared you, bunny?” you furrowed your brows in irritation before you shook your head and presumed your hands back onto your knees, nails lightly digging into your skin.

“quiet today, hm?” he eyed you as he tossed his clothes in the hamper in the corner of the room, before placing his towel over the door to air out.

you shrug, going to reach for the collar and leash before he stops you. “tut. daddy will do that.” you place your hands quickly onto your knees just as fast as you moved to get the collar. you were not in the mood to be bratty, you just needed him.

it felt torturous the way he got through his bedtime your routine. you had already done yours, so you smelled sweetly for him, soft and supple. ready to be bitten and bruised.

you smelled his cologne as he did his signature three spritz and an extra on the neck, the fan in the room blowing it right around you.

that’s when your brain started to feel heavy, your body felt antsy. you needed his directions his guidance and most importantly his touch.

and he knew that. he could smell your poor pussy dripping with slick.

“tell me something, bunny.” he quipped, finally doing the end of his routine as he rubbed his moisturizer into his skin and looking at you through the circular mirror on the wall.

“yes, daddy?” he raised a brow at your sudden interest at being verbal before he quickly pushed it aside, and went ahead with his question

“you touch yourself today?” his question struck you as odd as you made a promise before he went into work that you wouldn’t touch yourself — under no circumstances. and he would be able to tell if you had anyways.

you always smelled different after you came.

“no, daddy. not once. promised you.” you cocked your head to the side just slightly enough to show him you were curious why he was asking. his eyes flash to the collar and leash quickly before back to yours — those beautiful baby blue eyes suddenly being swallowed by his pupil.

needy, want. desire.

“you pinky promise? you know daddy won’t put your collar on if you did.” you huffed at this, knowing you didn’t touch yourself — not once.

no matter how badly she throbbed when he left in the morning, and the smell of his scent still cling to the sheets and you tried your hardest to not hump the blankets.

no matter how badly she pulsed at the thought of his fingers inside you when he came by on his short lunch break to give you a kiss and some lunch. it was a very innocent exchange but you could help the thoughts anyways.

and honestly, it almost did it when you were doing your night time routine and you were using his shampoo, and it smelled so good — so much like him, you had such a hard time keeping concentration on the book you were reading.

the one you promised him you’d read a few chapters of. which you did. of course.

you were so glad that he was easy, because he believed you. so happy that he needed you as much as he did — because the second you nodded your head before you uttered the words ‘yes daddy’ — he was grabbed the collar and placing it perfectly on your neck.

“pretty bunny…” he murmurs, watching your body go lax at the sudden weight registering inside your mind. this is what you wanted — what you needed.

him to shut your mind off and remind you who you belonged to.

and he always did.

he caressed the side of your head while attaching the leash to the end of the front of your collar, tugging on it and pulling your body forward towards him.

your hands stopped yourself from falling catching onto his shoulders and your lips met his in a heavy kiss.

you felt your head going deeper and deeper into the headspace you needed and he was right there with you.

“good bunny,” he nips your bottom lip before pulling away and letting the leash go loose in his hand. “turn around on your hands and knees, baby.”

you happily obeyed, turning around on the soft mattress and spreading your arm and knees to mirror each other. you heard him grunt in response you listening to him.

“good girl. you listen so well.” he still had a loose hold of the leash, metal hand palming himself through the towel. he stands at the end of the bed — the bottom front of his knees pressed against the mattress. he pulls on the leash causing your ass to press against the fabric of the towel and you let out a gasp as you feel how hard he is underneath.

“see what you do to daddy when you listen so good?” he mumbles softly and you couldn’t help but nod as you start slowly grinding onto him, your eyes batting up to his innocently.

he wasn’t even looking at you — no. he was looking right at your ass moving on his hard covered cock and you swore you could feel him twitch through it.

“that feel good, bunny?” he rasps, flesh hand coming to caress the globe of your ass cheek before he’s spanking it softly as you start to grind your ass a bit more against him.

“yes daddy,” you nod as you keep going, you can feel your cunt drip as he grips onto your hip, pulling you closer onto him.

at some point you’re grinding into him, the towel starts to drop further and further until the hem of the towel is just barely covering the base of his cock.

you can feel how heavy he is thru the towel as it lightly bobs against the fabric, hitting your cunt gently here and there.

fuck. you need him.

“look at me, bunny.” he tugs on the leash and you can’t help but let out a moan as you turn your neck to look at him, grabbing a pillow to put under your neck and face to support you.

“how bad does she need it, hm?” when heh bae your cunt pronouns, you couldn’t help but clench around nothing. fuck the sound of it — the way he sounded desperate but tried to keep it on the low.

you could hear it.

and if not — you could see it.

the way his bright pink swollen lips were lightly parted as he let out bated breathes in between coo’ing at you. pupils dilated as he watched your ass grind onto him, the moans and groans slipping from those lips again.

fuck he was a sight to behold and it gave goi goosebumps.

you reach inbetween your legs as you grip the towel and fully tug it down, letting it fall to his ankles and the floor with a soft thud.

“this bad, daddy.” you whine back as you grip his cock and push the shaft in between your wet folds. he grips both your hips with his hands, the leash loosening just a bit at the angle of your head as he starts to grind against you.

he could hear how fucking wet you were — his cock sliding so easily in between your folds as you held the bottom of his shaft up to keep him snug. sometimes the tip even nudged your swollen clit and he had to stop the urge from making a mess right then and there when he hears your pathetic whines, your hips jolting at the sensation.

“yeah, bunny? that fuckin’ bad you moan like a slut when jus’ my fat tip catches your little hole?” he demonstrates as he pulls his hips back and forward into you again, the tip catching your dripping hole for a second before popping out

you whimper

just like he fucking thought

“shit, baby — you really were good f’me today, huh?” he deeply rasps, pulling your hips flush with his as he grinds into you again and you can’t help but cry out

“yes, please daddy—! need your cock, so bad…” your brain is fuzzy, the only thing on your mind is the feeling of him filling you up nice and deep — why was he messing with you?

he sensed your frustration, and found it cute.

“shh, it’s only my cry baby bunny.” he tugs on your leash which registers in your body as you sit up, your neck against his chest and the collar snug tight on your throat as he grips the leash

“i’ll give you my cock if you give me more of those pretty tears.” you let out a whimper as he presses the tip of his cock into your hole again, before pausing and asking you.

“you prep her for me, babydoll?”

you swallow thickly. fuck. you thought he’d forget.

but of course he didn’t. he would be a damn fool if he did.

“ye-yes daddy — had a dildo shoved de-deep in my cunt. all day…” you feel your cheeks hurt as you know they are heating up, not being able to hide your face into anything as you bite your lip.

“good bunny. just like daddy taught you, hm?” you nod as he presses into you deeper. the tip breaching your hole and his shaft stretching you out.

the moan that falls from your lips is sinful and is what fuels his hips to snap furiously into yours until he’s grinding his hips into you. his cock is shoved deep into your cunt — the one that’s dripping down the front of him and the sheets.

“that feel good, baby?” he mumbles into your ear, his right hand gripping your hip as he anchors you against him, feet hanging off the edge wif the bed. you can only nod as he slides back and sinks back into you, growing right into your ear as he slides in so easily

his right hand comes to the bottom of your stomach and his palm presses down as soon as he buries his dick deeper into you.

“it better — my fuckin’ dick is this deep into your guts, bunny. easy for me to breed you like the dumb slut you are.” he bites your earlobe after he speaks before pushing your face into the sheets.

his hold on the leash is tight — enough to keep you in place as he starts to thrust into you roughly, fingertips digging into your skin. sure to leave marks.

“was thinkin’ of this pussy all fuckin’ day, bunny. you know that?” he grunts as he doesn’t wait for you to answer — he knows you’re too fucked stupid at this point to even register a coherent thought.

that’s how he liked you and that’s what you craved. he always gave it to you exactly how you needed.

“sittin’ in meetings from the minute i got in — had to rub one out a few times in the fuckin’ bathroom…” he mutters, his flesh hand spanking your ass harshly as you meet his thrusts weakly, needing to.

he didn’t stop you.

encouraged it, even.

“there you go — even when you’re too brainless to talk, the only thing on your mind is fucking cock.” he lets go of the leash and unlocks it, before leaning his body forward and over you.

he was everywhere.

in your ear grunting as he fucked you into the mattress, when he ended up pushing you up further against the bed so much so he was fully on the bed now.

the sound of skin slapping on skin as he made your cunt scream with pleasure — his cock driving home hard each and every thrust. jt was exactly what you needed.

your body felt overstimulated at the idea of how good he was fucking you, how he was treating you how you wanted to be treated.

you didn’t realize you were crying until you felt his tongue lick up the side of your face and he moaned into your cheek.

his flesh hand gripped the base of your collar at the back of your head as he started to roll his hips into yours, “love the way your tears taste baby. you close yet?” you let out a whimper when his melts hand comes to play with your clit and you can’t help but nod as you push against him even though there was no more space between the two of you.

he made sure of that.

you ended up laid on your tummy as you arched your hips and somehow a pillow ended up underneath them to let him take you deeper.

“gonna breed this bunny cunt full of daddy’s cum — you hear me baby? you’ll feel me so fuckin’ deep, shit — i hope it sticks.” he half laughs darkly, half groans at the thought

and your pussy loves it too.

you clench around him when he speaks and that’s when he knows he’s fully got you to a point where you’re pliable in his hold that you’d do anything to get pumped full

“yeah baby? that what you want?” he huffs out as he sits up just a bit — enough to keep his weight on you and to play with your clit as he fucks you harder. he feels his balls clench tightly as you squeeze him — moans emitting from your lips and filling his senses

“pl-please, daddy—!” your moan was raised from not speaking as much and only whining and groaning. but he didn’t care

he could tell how desperate you were to cum and to be filled.

“how could i say no to you my sweet girl? especially when you beg me so pretty.” he rubs your clit faster as you buck your hips and push into him as he fucks you — your fists gripping the sheets as you feel your belly tighten.

“cum for me, bunny. make a mess all over my dick. cream on it.” you cum with a loud moan as he commands you, toes curling as you feel yourself coating his cock with slick, dripping down his balls and onto the sheets below

“good fuckin’ girl. you and that sweet pussy listen so well.” you let out a whimper at the praise, taking his metal hand from your clit and gripping your hips as he chases his own high with a deep groan.

“take it baby, there we go — fuck…” he empties inside you and you feel him fulling you up, spilling from the sides. there’s so much of it, it makes you dizzying knowing it’s going to waste and clearly he feels the same way

“don’t worry baby,” he mumbles as he fucks you skiwlh, making sure to push it deep into you as he raises your hips more — sitting for a second.

“there we go — lemme clean you up. stay still, bunny.” you barely register what he says before he’s pulling out of your cunt and you whimper at the loss

he chuckles as he shuffles down the bed, not caring his messy cock was getting on the sheets. he takes your ass cheeks and spreads them enough to see your pretty cunt leaking his and your cum.

“messy girl,” he murmurs before diving into your cunt with his tongue and cleaning up the mess. the difference of his thick cock to his warm tongue as your hips jolting against his face and you can’t help but rock into him at the feeling.

he moans against you as he feels you gushing on his tongue — tasting his and your cum on his tastebuds. he didn’t give a shit, he loves the taste of you and him mixed together as much as just you.

what could he say? he was a man with a palette.

“there we go, bunny…” he mumbles as he pulls back to lick up rest, eyes up at you as he looks at you hungrily, your lips parted with soft breaths.

“all clean, for now…”

[staley83]

𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝙰𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader ✦ Genre: Fluff, Jealousy, Social Media AU, Established Relationship, Clingy!Bucky ✦ Word Count: 1.8K ✦ Summary: You post a cute selfie, and the internet does what it does best—starts flirting. But Bucky sees it before you even finish writing a caption. And before you know it, your ultra-private boyfriend turns very public with a possessive Instagram story that just says one word: Mine.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ ✦✦ ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ ✦✦ ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You weren’t trying to break the internet.

It was just a cute mirror selfie. You liked your eyeliner today, and the lighting in your room hit just right. Naturally, you posted it.

Nothing wild. No thirst trap. Just you smiling in Bucky’s hoodie, hair soft and curled, captioned simply:

“🪞✨ hey”

You left your phone on the nightstand and went to make popcorn. But when you came back? You had 38 new comment notifications. And 3 missed calls from Bucky.

Uh-oh.

You scroll through the comments. Friends. Fellow Avengers. A few fan accounts.

And one blue-check guy with far too much confidence:

“okay wow. who’s your photographer?? and also can i take you to dinner 👀”

You blink. The message isn’t even subtle. You scoff “Wow, bold,” you mutter.

You’re just about to text Bucky before he panics when your phone pings with a new notification:

@buckybarnes posted to their story.

You raise an eyebrow. That’s odd. Bucky never uses Instagram unless you literally force him to. You tap to view it. And your heart does a backflip.

It’s a picture of the two of you one you didn’t even know he took. You’re curled against his side on the couch, looking up at him with your eyes soft, his dog tags visible where they rest on your chest.

The caption?

Mine. 🖤

Oh. Oh.

You burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Bucky.”

Your phone buzzes again this time with a FaceTime call. You answer with a grin. “Hi.”

His face fills your screen. Brow furrowed. Puppy pout. Jealousy practically radiating through the phone “Who is that guy in your comments?” he says immediately.

“Babe,” you giggle, “I don’t know him.”

“He called you beautiful. And asked you to dinner. I will end him.”

You sigh, heart warm. “Bucky, I didn’t even respond.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he sulks. “You’re mine.”

“I am yours,” you say softly, biting your lip.

“And I posted that so everyone knows,” he adds.

“I saw. Possessive much?”

He shrugs. “I’m soft, not stupid.”

You grin. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

He pouts again. “Come over.”

“I’m literally in your hoodie right now.”

“So come home to it.”

You roll your eyes, already grabbing your shoes. “Fine. But only if you give me back rubs and forehead kisses.”

“You can have all the forehead kisses.”

You smirk. “Oh? All of them?”

“Unlimited. Lifetime warranty.”

You giggle the whole way there.

Later that night, curled up in his lap, he tucks his nose into your neck and murmurs, “Next time, just post me with you.”

You laugh. “Okay, clingy.”

He hums. “Call it what you want. Still yours.”

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─────────

💌 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 💌

@nerdreader @starstruckfirecat @baguwagu @sunday-bug @murnsondock @7batsinatrenchcoat @overwintering-soldier @surebutwhy @embervelour @bananaminn @butterflies-on-my-ashes @thiscornerofmyfanficbrain @okaytrashpanda @xamapolax @aceofheartsssss @the-real-kellymonster @mars-in-a-cup @doilooklikeagiveafrack @maifics @cjand10 🎀🩷

wanna be tagged in all upcoming theories + emotional damage + forehead kisses? ➝ reply or send me an ask and i’ll add you ♡

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─────────

[staley83]

Juice & Opie vs Recovery

Still feeling so darn gross 😫

Taglist: @kellynickelsgirl00 @ravennaortiz @privatetruths @secretlysamcro @staley83 @jozzieblood @tuesdayaddamss @mrstelford @tssweets @mamawiggers1980 @youngadult9016 @samcrosfaith @staley83 @bethexo07 @anonymouse1807 @raven1234321 @vaugarkel @callmesev @vagharsnextsnack @lunajay33 @punkrockcakepops @sweetestrose569 @xoxo-sarah @gidgetto

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TW: medical equipment, hospital setting, descriptions of pain, blood, Tig being Tig some characters might be slightly ooc, 1st time writing Opie !

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The morning light filtered through your bedroom curtains as you slowly opened your eyes, the familiar comfort of your own bed a welcome change from the sterile hospital room. Your body still felt weak and sore, but being home made everything seem a little more manageable. You could hear quiet voices coming from your kitchen - Opie's deep, steady tone mixed with Juice's more animated rambling.

They'd insisted on staying the night after you were discharged, setting up camp in your living room despite your protests that you'd be fine on your own. But deep down, you were grateful for their presence, especially given how uncertain you still felt about your condition.

You slowly made your way to the bathroom, still wearing the oversized shirt you'd grabbed when arrived home. Your legs felt unsteady, and you had to pause at the doorframe to catch your breath. The familiar wave of nausea was already starting to build, and you gripped the bathroom sink for support as another cramp hit.

That's when you felt it - the warm, wet sensation that made your heart sink. Looking down, you watched in horror as blood began to soak through the hospital pad and your clothing, far more than what should have been normal. Within moments, it had pooled on the bathroom floor, and the sight of the dark clots mixed in made your head spin with that strange, foggy feeling you'd come to dread.

"Oh no, no no, sunvofabitch." you whispered, gripping the sink harder as waves of nausea crashed over you. Your vision started to blur at the edges, and you knew you needed help.

"Opie!" you called out, your voice weaker than you'd intended. "Juice!"

The sound of chairs scraping and heavy footsteps running down the hall reached you within seconds.

"What's wrong?" Juice's voice came through the door, pitched higher than usual with worry. "Are you okay? Can I come in? Should I come in? I don't want to, like, violate your privacy or anything, but you sound—"

"Juice, just get in here," you managed, still gripping the sink.

The door burst open, and Juice's eyes immediately went wide as he took in the scene. "Oh shit, oh shit, that's... that's a lot of blood. That's way too much blood. Why is there so much blood? The hospital said you were fine to come home, they said—"

He ran his hand over his head frantically. "Okay, okay, what do I do? What do we do? Opie! OPIE!"

"I'm right here," Opie's calm voice came from behind him as the larger man appeared in the doorway. His expression grew serious as he assessed the situation, but unlike Juice, he didn't panic. "Alright, let's get you cleaned up and back to bed."

"I'm so sorry," you said weakly, the embarrassment almost worse than the pain. "I didn't mean to make such a mess."

"Don't you dare apologize," Juice said fiercely, his protective instincts overriding his panic. "This isn't your fault. The hospital never should have sent you home like this. I knew something was wrong, I could feel it, but did they listen? No, they just—"

"Juice," Opie interrupted gently, "grab some towels from the linen closet. The big ones."

"Right, towels, I can do that," Juice muttered, still rambling as he hurried away. "Towels for cleanup, that makes sense, and maybe we should call the hospital back, or maybe not the hospital because they're clearly incompetent, but maybe Bobby knows a better doctor, or—"

His voice faded as he disappeared down the hall, leaving you with Opie's steady presence.

"Come on," Opie said softly, offering you his arm for support. "Let's get you taken care of."

You leaned heavily against his solid frame as he helped you to your bedroom, his touch gentle despite his size. There was something incredibly comforting about Opie's presence - he never made you feel fragile or helpless, just cared for.

"I feel so gross," you admitted as he helped you sit on the edge of the bed.

"You're not gross," he said firmly, his voice carrying that quiet authority that made you believe him. "You're sick, and you're dealing with something the doctors clearly didn't take seriously enough."

Juice returned with an armload of towels, his eyes still wide with concern. "I got the good towels, the soft ones, because I figured you didn't need scratchy towels right now, and I also grabbed some washcloths in case you needed those, and—" He stopped mid-sentence as he noticed you shivering. "Oh god, you're cold. Are you cold? You look cold. Opie, she's cold."

"I can see that," Opie replied patiently. "Why don't you go get her that robe, the blue one."

"The blue one, right, that's the fuzzy one, that'll be warm," Juice nodded frantically and hurried to your closet.

While Opie helped you get cleaned up and into fresh clothes, Juice discovered the bag of hospital supplies they'd sent you home with. You heard a strange choking sound from the bathroom.

"Uh ?" Juice's voice had gone up another octave. "What... what are these things?"

"The hospital pads?" you called back weakly.

"These aren't pads, these are like... these are like mattresses! Why are they so huge? This is like a pillow! How are you supposed to... I mean, where does it even..." He appeared in the doorway holding one of the massive hospital-grade pads, his face a mixture of confusion and horror.

"This is bigger than my laptop!"

Despite feeling awful, you couldn't help but laugh at his expression. "They're industrial strength."

"Industrial strength feminine products," he muttered, shaking his head. "That's not normal. None of this is normal. You shouldn't need... whatever this is."

"The hospital said it was temporary," you offered weakly.

"The hospital said a lot of things," Juice replied, his voice getting that edge it got when he was angry but trying not to show it. "And clearly they didn't know what they were talking about because you shouldn't be bleeding like this at home."

Opie placed a gentle hand on Juice's shoulder. "Hey. Right now, we focus on taking care of her. We can be pissed at the hospital later."

Juice took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right. Sorry. I just... I hate seeing you like this."

Once you were settled back in bed, both men seemed to shift into full caretaker mode. Opie had found your heating pad and was gently arranging it against your lower back, while Juice was bustling around gathering supplies.

"Okay, so I've got your water bottle, and some of that electrolyte stuff because you need to stay hydrated, and I found some crackers in case you get hungry but don't want anything heavy," Juice rattled off, setting everything on your nightstand. "And I put your phone right here in case you need anything when we're not right here, which we will be, but just in case."

"You don't have to wait on me," you protested weakly.

"Yea, we do," Opie said simply, adjusting your pillows. "That's what we're here for."

"Exactly," Juice agreed, plopping down in the chair beside your bed. "You're our princess today. And tomorrow. And however long it takes for you to feel better."

"Princess treatment," you repeated with a small smile. "I could get used to this."

"Don't get too used to it," Opie said with a rare grin. "Juice might spoil you rotten."

"I absolutely will," Juice said without hesitation. "She deserves to be spoiled."

By mid-morning, you were feeling restless in bed but still too weak to do much. The foggy, nauseous feeling came in waves, and you'd had another bleeding episode that had both men hovering anxiously.

"Maybe the couch would be better," you suggested. "I feel so isolated in here."

"Couch sounds good," Opie agreed. "We can keep a better eye on you out there."

The migration from bedroom to living room became a carefully orchestrated operation. Juice had gathered every pillow in the house to create what he called "the ultimate comfort nest," while Opie carried you out despite your protests that you could walk.

"No unnecessary walking," he said firmly. "Doctor's orders."

"What doctor?"

"Dr. Opie," he replied with a straight face that made you giggle.

Once you were settled on the couch, wrapped in your softest blankets with pillows strategically placed for maximum comfort, both men took up positions nearby. Juice had claimed the chair closest to you, while Opie settled on the floor beside the couch where he could easily reach you if needed.

Around noon, there was a knock at your door, followed by Tig's voice calling out, "Honey, I'm home!"

"Oh god," you muttered, pulling the blanket up higher.

"I'll handle him," Opie said, getting up to answer the door.

"No, no, it's okay," you said quickly. You had a soft spot for Tig, despite his complete lack of social filters.

Tig bounded in like an overgrown puppy, his arms full of what appeared to be various pharmacy bags.

"I heard you were still bleeding like a stuck pig," he announced cheerfully, then caught sight of your pale face. "Aw, sweetheart, you look like hell."

"Thanks, Tig," you said dryly. "Really know how to make a girl feel better."

"That's why I brought supplies!" He started pulling items out of the bags with the enthusiasm of a kid at Christmas. "Iron pills, because you're probably anemic as hell, chocolate because chocolate fixes everything, more of those giant pad things because Juice called me in a panic about running out—"

"I wasn't panicking," Juice protested. "I was being proactive."

"You were hyperventilating into a paper bag," Tig countered. "Which, by the way, I brought more paper bags in case you need them again."

"I don't hyperventilate," Juice mumbled.

"And," Tig continued, ignoring him, "I brought these." He produced a package of what appeared to be adult diapers with a flourish.

The silence in the room was deafening.

"Tig," Opie said carefully, "what the hell, brother?"

"Maximum protection!" Tig said proudly. "I asked the pharmacist what was the most absorbent thing they had for heavy bleeding, and she recommended these. Said they're way better than pads for overnight protection."

You felt your face burn with embarrassment. "Tig, I'm not wearing diapers."

"They're not diapers, they're... enhanced undergarments," he said, reading from the package. "And they've got side barriers and everything. Very high-tech."

"Enhanced undergarments," Juice repeated slowly. "Tig, Jesus, I don't think—"

"Look, I know it's not sexy," Tig interrupted, "but you know what's really not sexy? Bleeding all over everything. This way you can relax and not worry about leaks."

Despite the mortification, you could see the genuine concern in his eyes. In his own way, he was just trying to take care of you.

"That's... actually really thoughtful," you said finally. "In a weird, Tig kind of way."

"I have my moments," he said, looking pleased. "Plus, I got you the ones with flowers on them. See? Pretty."

Opie was trying very hard not to laugh, while Juice looked like he was having an existential crisis about feminine hygiene products.

Later in the afternoon, while you were dozing on the couch, you were awakened by Opie's voice on the phone.

"Yeah, Bobby, I need advice," he was saying quietly from the kitchen. "No, not that kind of advice. Baking advice."

You smiled to yourself, keeping your eyes closed to listen.

"She needs to eat something, but everything makes her nauseous... Yeah, I was thinking something bland but with some nutrition... Muffins? What kind of muffins?"

There was a pause as he listened to Bobby's response.

"Banana? Yeah, she's got bananas... No, I don't know if she likes nuts... Hold on." You heard his footsteps approaching. "Hey, do you like walnuts in your muffins?"

You opened your eyes to find him standing over you with his phone pressed to his ear, looking completely serious about this muffin consultation.

"Walnuts are good," you said softly.

"She says walnuts are good... Yeah, I can handle a basic muffin recipe... What do you mean, don't overmix? How do you overmix?"

Juice looked up from his laptop where he'd been researching your condition for the hundredth time. "Are we baking?"

"Opie's making muffins," you explained.

"I can help!" Juice said immediately. "I'm good at following directions. Well, sometimes. Okay, not always, but I can try."

"Bobby says to keep Juice away from the electric mixer," Opie reported, still on the phone.

"I only broke one mixer!" Juice protested. "And that was an accident!"

"What did you do to it?" you asked, curious despite your fatigue.

"I may have tried to mix concrete with it," Juice admitted sheepishly. "For a project. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Concrete," you repeated.

"Very small batch of concrete," he clarified. "For artistic purposes."

As the day progressed, both men had developed a system for managing your medications and keeping you hydrated. Juice had created what he called "the med schedule" - a detailed chart of when you needed to take each pill, written in his surprisingly neat handwriting.

"Okay, it's 3 PM, which means it's time for the iron supplement and the pain medication," he announced, appearing at your side with a glass of water and the pills arranged in his palm like a tiny pharmacy.

"You don't have to be so precise about it," you said, though you were touched by his attention to detail.

"Yes, I do," he replied seriously. "Medication timing is important for optimal absorption and effectiveness. I looked it up."

"Of course you did," Opie said fondly from the kitchen, where he was working on the muffins. "Did you also look up the optimal water temperature for swallowing pills?"

"Actually, yeah," Juice said, completely missing the teasing tone. "Room temperature is best because it's less shocking to the system than cold water, but not warm enough to potentially affect the coating on time-release medications."

You and Opie exchanged amused looks over his head.

"Juice, honey, you know you don't have to research everything, right?" you said gently.

"I know," he said, settling back into his chair. "But I want to make sure we're doing everything right. The hospital clearly didn't, so I want to be better than them."

The fierce protectiveness in his voice made your heart warm. "You're already better than them."

By late afternoon, you'd had another heavy bleeding episode that left you feeling dizzy and nauseous. The foggy feeling was getting worse, and you found yourself gripping Opie's hand tightly as waves of cramps hit.

"I think I'm going to be sick," you whispered, that familiar clammy feeling washing over you.

Juice was immediately at your side with a basin, his face creased with worry. "It's okay, just breathe. Deep breaths."

"This isn't normal," Opie said quietly, his jaw tight with concern. "This is way beyond what they told us to expect."

"I know," you managed between waves of nausea. "But they said it could take time to regulate."

"Bullshit," Juice said with unusual vehemence. "This is not regulation, this is... this is scary."

Another cramp hit, stronger than before, and you couldn't help the small cry that escaped. Both men immediately moved closer, Opie's hand stroking your hair while Juice held your other hand.

"We should call someone," Juice said frantically. "The hospital, or maybe Tara, or—"

"No," you said weakly. "Please. I just want to get through today."

"Please—"

"Please, Juice. One more day. If it's not better tomorrow, we'll call."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but something in your expression stopped him. "Okay," he said finally. "But I'm staying up tonight to watch you."

"We both are," Opie added quietly.

As the sun began to set, you found yourself feeling slightly better. The muffins Opie had made were perfect - light and not too sweet, with just enough substance to settle your stomach. You managed to eat half of one, which felt like a victory.

"Bobby was right about the recipe," Opie said, looking pleased as he watched you eat. "Said the banana would be easy on your stomach."

"They're perfect," you assured him. "Thank you for going to all that trouble."

"No trouble," he said simply. "Besides, Bobby walked me through it step by step. Even I couldn't mess up with that much guidance."

Juice had dimmed the lights, creating a peaceful atmosphere in the living room. He'd also arranged every comfort item within arm's reach - tissues, water, crackers, your phone, the heating pad, and even Tig's embarrassing but practical "enhanced undergarments."

"You know," you said softly, looking between your two caregivers, "I'm really lucky to have you both."

"We're the lucky ones," Juice said immediately. "Getting to take care of you, I mean. Even though I hate that you're hurting."

"Same," Opie agreed. "Just wish we could do more."

"You're doing everything," you assured them. "I couldn't ask for better friends."

As you finally began to drift off on the couch, too comfortable and too watched-over to want to move back to your bedroom, you could hear Juice and Opie talking quietly in the kitchen.

"I'll take first watch," Juice was saying. "You get some sleep."

"I'm not tired," Opie replied. "Besides, you haven't slept since yesterday."

"Neither have you."

"I'm bigger. I can handle it better."

"That's not how sleep deprivation works, Opie."

You smiled to yourself, listening to them argue over who got to sacrifice their sleep to watch over you. It was ridiculous and sweet and exactly what you needed.

"Both of you need to sleep too," you mumbled.

You knew they were lying, knew they planned to stay awake all night watching over you like protective guard dogs. But you were too tired and too grateful to argue anymore.

[staley83]

ONE SHOTS

Bucky Texting

Thief

Promises broken, Promises kept.

Promises broken, Promises kept. Part 2

My Darlin' (Dark Bucky)

Town of trouble

Favor!

Revenge for doll!

Bucky's nickname Bubba (Blurb)

After care (multiple characters)

Car job... (Imagine)

Undercovers (Request)

You, me and her. (Request)

Bucky, Winter Solider and White Wolf. (Blurb)

Who am I?

My doll. (Soft dark Bucky)

My queen! (Mafia Bucky)

My girl. (Soft dark Bucky)

Bucky Baby!

We are in this together...

We are in this together... Part 2 ✅

SERIES

I know where I belong- Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 ✅

You, me and Vegas! - Happy Birthday Seb ❤️✅

Finding you again... ✅

Dad Bucky!

Little Wanderer.

His Angel.

Boyfriend.

Pa sounds cooler.

An adventurous day!

Mini-me.

Mother's day.

Justice!

Happy Birthday Bucky!!! ❤️

Justice by Jamie!

His personal hairstylist...

[staley83]

Room for Three

pairing: husband!Bucky barnes x wife!reader

requests: OPEN

asks: OPEN

summary: a morning spent with the Barnes family

warnings: its just cute

word count: 747

A/n: writers block is kicking my ass but i hope y’all enjoy this little drabble don’t forget to like, reblog or leave a request. love you lots and lots like jelly tots❤️.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚

You don’t remember falling asleep, only that Bucky’s voice was soothing and his touch melted away any tension that came with having a newborn. The next thing you feel is kisses across your face and featherlight touches tickling your waist.

“G’morning”, his voice was still thick with sleep, and his hair was tousled in all different directions, but in the morning light, he looked ethereal. “Mmm, mornin'”, you hummed, still fighting sleep as you shifted closer to his chest. He welcomed your embrace, wrapping an arm around your waist and gently kissing your forehead.

“I missed you” his grip on you tightened momentarily as if to say that he was here now, “I missed you, too, doll-” his words were cut off by a bloodcurdling scream from across the room, making both of you flinch. “It’s your turn, mister”, you say, patting his chest, making him groan as he shuffles out of bed.

You watch intently as he crosses the room to the white crib that holds your very fussy daughter. He gently picks her up, her small frame fitting perfectly in his hands, his lips gently brushing her cherry red cheeks as he mumbles, “All that fussing for what, huh? Daddy’s here, sweet girl, it’s okay.”

Your heart flutters at the sight of her curling into his bare chest as he walks back to bed. He places her between the two of you, and you smile as she reaches out for you. “Morning, baby girl,” you coo as you tickle her stomach, pulling a laugh from her.

“This is it” Your eyes flicker up to Bucky, who is lying sideways, propped up by his elbow, just staring at both of you. “Here with the two of my girls in the morning, not needing to worry about ‘the big three’ as Sam would say,” he scoffs, “just, peace” he stretches an arm across the baby to caress your cheek and tears well in your eyes at his soft words and touches.

“I love you, you know” he watches you intently, with a softness that melts your heart, “You made me so much better," he murmers, "as a hero, a-a father, a man” you kiss the middle of his palm, “You brought me the peace I always wanted” you open your mouth to reply yet your words get caught in your throat. The sound of something between a sob and a laugh comes out instead.

“I love you too, Buck, so much”, you nuzzle into his palm before intertwining your fingers as your daughter babbles between you, “and we love you too, missy, sooo muchhh” you say into her cheek with a smile, and her babbling grows louder like a laugh.

Bucky just watches, gratitude coursing through his veins for whatever god was great enough to bless him with you and the family you gave him.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚

[staley83]

Desperate [Bucky x Reader]

Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 3k  Summary: Enemies? Rivals? It's always been reluctant teamwork between you and the Winter Soldier, but when put in a situation where personal feelings have to be put aside, maybe actual personal feelings are uncovered.

Content Warnings: kidnapping, sex pollen ergo DUBIOUS CONSENT, sexual situations (named acts, non-explicit depictions of vaginal sex), medical elements (needles, IVs, experience of medical distress)

Thank You Notes: BIGGEST SHOUT OUTS to @sgt-seabass who beta loved this into what it is and @vonalyn who helped supply me with some of the vital energy I needed. This was SUPPOSED to be an answer to this little sleepover ask @povlvr had graced me with... but then it became this! Logistical Notes: Filling my eleventh square for Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - Y2 "Reluctant Teamwork" and @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer Week 9 which is technically a "FREE WEEK" but had sex pollen listed as one of the suggested things to play with, so... that's why we're here now.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You were an old SHIELD contact that Steve knew before Project Insight. He didn't know you well then, but you had crossed paths a few times. You were an analyst sometimes assigned to Steve's missions. You went to work for the CIA after the Triskellion takedown, where you stayed for a couple of years, before eventually moving into the private sector.

When Steve, Nat, Sam, and Wanda were outlaws on the run, they bumped into you again, and you became an ally and valuable contact in your new area of the country - and ultimately a friend. And trusted enough that you knew about Bucky - and Bucky heard about you.

Bucky didn't love that you were an element in Steve's life. He hadn't met you, hadn't been able to get his own read on you. 

He'd been wary initially about Nat, Sam, and Wanda, but he'd been able to meet them and build his own trust - and they'd all ultimately put their lives and reputations on the line for him. 

It wasn't that he was distrustful of everyone anymore and needed people to put their lives on the line to prove themselves. Those who had sided with Steve over Tony in the Zemo affair aside, he'd also learned to trust others again in Wakanda with so many of the royal family and the royal guard building relationships with him. 

But with you he didn’t know you, and so he didn't like it.

What Bucky loathed even more? 

You didn't blip out. For five years, you were there for Steve when he couldn't be. You were apparently there so much that when Steve left, he fucking said to watch out for you. The punk.

Bucky didn’t know Steve dropped in on you, too, and asked you to keep an eye out for Bucky the day he gave Sam the shield. You promised you would.

You reached out. Not immediately, but in the weeks after.

Bucky was... less than kind.

Frankly, he was surly, ungrateful, short, and rude. 

Pieces were moving and with Bucky's reappearance in the United States, the question of his future was an immediate concern. Public and government representatives were demanding trials, pardons, and all the rest.

You told him you had found an excellent contact for a lawyer.

"No, thanks, I can find my own," the words were polite, but the tone was clipped, flat, low - almost a growl. 

Being so abruptly shut down, you decided to cut the phone call first and on your terms, so you wished him luck - managing to be more polite than him, making it sound genuine - and hung up.

You called Matt Murdock yourself, and told him about Bucky's case.

You did it only because of your promise to Steve.

And a little bit because you knew you were fucking right and that Bucky needed your lawyer contact. 

Matt chuckled, told you he knew about stubbornness, and that he'd go about approaching the Winter Soldier diplomatically and professionally.

Matt pulled off the best possible pardon deal, even if not everything about it was ideal.

When Pepper decided to get back into some of the Avenger support again - after the Flag Smashers business - so she could provide some more trustworthy resources for Sam and Bucky and the old crowd, you were one of the people she ended up scouting and recruiting to come work on the direct home support team with research and tactical support. Sometimes you went into the field with the team, but usually you stayed at home base and relayed with the agents over comms. 

This was not because you weren't outstanding, but because it was clear the less time you and Bucky spent in proximity to each other, the less awkward it was for everyone else on the team. You were both professional enough to keep the animosity out of things during a mission over comms, and that was about it. 

Otherwise, it was silent treatment and resentment.

Neither of you extended the woes of your dislike for each other actively to anyone else on the team, keeping your mouths shut about your feelings, and engaging in only occasional and minimal eye-rolling when either of you was mentioned. Bucky made a point of giving you electrolyte-enhanced waters first whenever you did go into the field on a mission with them, as if you were a toddler who couldn’t take care of yourself. 

Sitting by you at a holiday dinner at Sam’s you almost thought there was a moment of thaw between you and the Winter Soldier, but you didn’t push the almost comfortable silence between you to anything more - knowing it had been long-established he only tolerated you. It was clearly only a temporary pause, meaning very little as Bucky continued to push for you not being put into the field with them. You didn’t need to be around his close scrutiny. He made getting over any initial crush you might have had on him very easy. 

Things were fine like that for a little over a year. 

And then you were abducted on your way back from a mission outside of Paris where you had been part of the local ground team, taken and smuggled out of the airport. It was not HYDRA this time, just leftover cretins who blipped away but now were back, stirring up their own operation which hoped to double down on being even more nefarious. They were interested in testing some of their new methods and resources while also trying to extract some sensitive information.

Why not kill two birds with one stone by snatching up a well-connected and informed analyst at the heart of the neo-Avengers operation?

They recovered files from debunked HYDRA facilities (hard drives were wiped, but motivated hackers knew how to dig beneath what had been wiped to recover remnants - in hindsight, SHIELD should have taken the tech to a secure location) and developed an even more concentrated and powerful form of sex pollen. They were interested in how it would be absorbed in both the aerosol and liquid forms they had developed. Why not try out both forms on you? 

The aerosol was potent enough, but not in a way that would break you for their line of inquiries.

So, they injected it right into your veins.

Compounding with what had already been ingested into your system, everything intensified, and you - much more quickly than they anticipated - moved past what may have been a state where they could've coaxed the information they wanted out of you. 

Quickly you progressed to the point where you were consumed by this toxin, your body raging and desperate for the physical activity that will get you to a sexual release and flush the toxin from your system. You were keening and moaning and crying, covered in sweat, straining painfully against your bonds, unable to focus on anything anyone said to you. 

You were incoherent and not far from feral. 

Having gone beyond the point you could be giving them intelligence, you were still useful to provide information as the test subject, and they kept you on it through an IV drip to see the limits of what an average female body could take before it was completely broken.

You had absolutely no sense of how long this went on, only that you were not even crying tears anymore, just dry sobbing and wailing, because everything in your throat, and in your veins, and in your chest, and in your vagina burned. 

It was an agony you'd never experienced in your life. 

You vaguely registered a cacophony of sound around you, but it was like it was coming to you through a long dark tunnel, distorted and distant, and you couldn’t open your eyes to see what is going on, not that you could even think to or were capable of caring about anything other than the desperate purgatory you were enduring until you finally passed out.

Bucky and Sam were nearly back to base ops in New York from the Paris mission when the news of your abduction came through, and they turned around immediately. Teams working at home and in Paris - and Bucky in the air while Sam piloted - narrowed your likely whereabouts down to two locations: somewhere near Versailles (because of course evil operations are drawn to the ideas of opulence) or a compound outside of Brussels. 

Time already against them, Sam and Bucky made the tough decision that they needed to split up so they could investigate both options as quickly as humanly possible. Sam dropped Bucky at the well-equipped safe house less than an hour away from the suspected Versailles compound and then headed to Brussels.

After arming himself to the teeth as quickly as he could, Bucky fired up the Ducati in the garage of the safehouse that had been equipped with a noise dampener by your tech engineers, punched in his navigational coordinates, and pushed to top speeds to get to there, stashing the bike half a kilometer away so he could make the rest of the approach in complete stealth.

The operation was much smaller than he anticipated, but because of its size it was almost immediately apparent to Bucky that this was where they had you, and he was also confident he would be able to drop this operation and get to you without as much trouble as he expected.

But in no way could he have predicted the state he would find you in.

He heard your agonizing cries and keening within moments of entering the facility, and he'd already dropped four agents at that point, but the excruciating pain he heard from you was its own form of torture in itself. 

He picked up the pace, tearing ruthlessly through everyone else that came between him and you.

He got the full view of the condition you were in only moments before you passed out. He quickly undid all the bindings and removed everything they had attached to monitor your vitals. He unhooked the IV drip but had the presence of mind to take the bag for testing later. It was inelegant, but he hefted you over his shoulder, and everyone else still conscious who got in his way of getting you out was incapacitated with a single kill shot.

It was close to midnight when he reached the safe house and carefully tucked you into one of the beds. He pulled a secure laptop and some of the base medical testing equipment into the bedroom and kept watch over your catatonic form while he started running tests on the substance you’d been hooked up to and sent the base data for his samples to the bioengineering team back at HQ.

Over the next hour your body experienced a few fits of violent shaking, but you didn’t rouse until almost 2am. When you did, it was with great heaving gasps, and your arms flailed, your hands grasping at the sheets, at your clothes, and then at Bucky when he appeared almost immediately at your side trying to soothe you. He had a theory he hoped wasn’t true – that he knew what was running through your veins – but it was confirmed when you clutched and pawed desperately at him. Then your eyes met his, there was a recognition but coupled with devastating desperation, and you started babbling his name and pleading, “Bucky, please, Bucky. Need. Bucky, help. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.”

He’d been in distress over you since he first heard your tortured cries hours before, and he knew you needed him.

He wouldn’t deny you. 

He knew the anguish of being a slave within one’s own mind. 

He worked both of you out of your clothes quickly, and then laid you back on the bed and crawled above you. “I gothcu, shh, I know what you need.” You cried, but with a glimmer of relief, when he sunk into your desperately wet cunt. He thrust diligently into you while you clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

The first orgasm was quick, and provided a glorious wave of relief that helped, but it was not enough. 

Not even close.

For nearly two hours he let you use him, pulling him into you, riding him, kneeling under him on all fours while he wrapped an arm around your waist and took you from behind. 

It was relentless fucking until you hit the point of being utterly depleted – mercifully coinciding with when the chemicals seemed to have finally been flushed from your system with enough of the endorphins released into your bloodstream from the numberless orgasms. 

If anyone but a super soldier had found you, Bucky genuinely worried they may not have been enough to help. Seeing you at the utter extreme of limits, in dangerous territory, had shaken something inside him he wasn’t prepared to discover. There had been no question in his mind that he had to get you through it. 

He smoothed your hair off your face and let your body gently sink back into the mattress, then got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He wiped your brow first, and you sighed in relief, eyes already closed in bone-tired weariness. Bucky gently wiped the sweat from your neck, continued moving down your body, and then with a second warm cloth he’d also brought, he gently wiped away the mess of slick that had seeped down your thighs. He carefully redressed your exhausted form, sliding you back into your discarded underwear and his t-shirt that was close enough to scoop up from the floor, and tucked you into the covers. You were asleep before he had finished taking care of you.

As you rested, he continued his vigilant watch from before. You stirred an hour or so later. It was still dark, but with almost a hint that sunrise would be creeping to the edges of the windows soon. He moved to your side again, this time with water, which he pressed to your lips, helping you to set up so you could drink. You began to gulp it down, but slowed when he tried to soothe you and urged you to slow your intake.

When you were nearly done downing the glass, your eyes opened briefly, but catching Bucky’s wary gaze on you, you shut them again. Not before Bucky saw the flash of anguish, however. You scooted away and turned your back, pulling your knees up and burying your head in your arms.

Bucky wanted to reach out and touch you, but settled for softly uttering your name, trying to coax you to look at him.

You refused, consumed with shame and horror.

Your throat was thick with a different kind of agony. 

That episode of pain and innate need had ended, but this? 

This was a new hell you would have to endure. 

“Bucky, I’m sorry, and I know I owe you my life and probably all of my sanity, but please, please go. Please leave me be and don’t put me through the humiliation right now of being here only because you were resigned to helping me despite hating me. I’ll have to bear that forever, but please, just… please at least leave me to myself until we get out of here.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Fuck, I don’t hate you – I never truly hated you,” he said. It was quiet, but perfectly audible in the silence of the pre-dawn.

You raised your head tentatively.

He took a deep breath and continued. “I only kept it up to save face since I drove you to despise me and was too proud to turn it around.”

You were truly overwhelmed. You wanted to say something but had no idea how to respond to that admission, especially when you were already wrung out to the very edges of your emotional state.

“I’ve respected you for a long time now.” Bucky broke the silence.

“You have?”

“Probably more than respected you, if I’m being honest.”

You were still exhausted despite having slept for the past few hours, but you pushed your mind to think… you started to reconsider the thaw from hostility to civility, that he argued with you in group settings less, how everything had become less grudging. But you knew you’d put up your own protective walls to shield you from his scrutiny because it had hurt too much to have been spurned by him when you’d reached out to try and forge that relationship with him after Steve left initially. 

And so much of tonight had been a feverish haze, but you had small pieces that were stained into your memory, some of which were him and things you couldn’t categorize as the actions of anything less than someone who cared. 

“How do you feel about me?” you ventured. 

The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a few long moments.

“I don’t know that I can explain it all yet – I don’t think I know the words for it, but… let me show you? No chemicals, just us, see what’s really here?” He reached out a tentative hand to cover one of yours.

You nodded.

You let him move in.

You let him kiss you.

You let him lay you down beneath him again, and this time you sunk into each other. 

You cried again, but this time from the immense emotion. You could feel it rolling off of him and pouring into you, a balm starting to fill in the anguished pieces of your soul. Your spent bodies pushed through any tiredness and desperately moved together again, relentlessly motivated this time to slake the emotional hunger growing between you. Touches that explored, that carved into memory, that expressed. 

This time when you were both only finished by exhaustion, you curled into each other and slept, feeling the beginnings of solace and true peace, a turning of the tide, and maybe the acknowledgement that emotions that had run so deeply between you two were only felt so strongly because you truly valued the other even from the beginning.

READ THE FOLLOW UP DRABBLE: UNCERTAIN AND SURE

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[staley83]

My plus one | J.M

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

MDNI

Wordcount: 4,038

Warnings: SMUTT, Age gap (reader is over 20, Joel is mid 30s), Pinv, Creampie, Unprotected Pinv (wrap it before you tap it), Fingering, Cum eating?, Almost caught, Sneaking around, Car sex, Use of petnames, I think that's all!

A/N: This is a Fic I've posted previously, but I've recently revised and rewrote almost the whole thing! As always, hope you enjoy! Sorry it has taken me this long to post, I've recently had personal problems I had to deal with! Despite the little break I took, everything is good and well now! <3

Two days before you were supposed to come home, for your dads big promotion dinner, bad news struck you.

In the form of a text message.

"this isn't working for me anymore, we're done."

Really? That was all the asshole could say?

"what about the dinner tyler?? tf am i supposed to do?"

"you'll figure it out."

Fuck him.

Whatever, it's not like you cared.

—

Despite not having a date, you decided to head back to Austin anyways. It was the promotion your dad had waited his whole career for.

The drive was a bit long from your college, but it lined up perfectly with the start of your spring break.

You got home a little earlier than you had originally planned for. To your surprise, Joel accompanied your father while they nursed their beers.

Joel.

It had only been a few months since the last time you saw him, but God did he look handsome.

The amber glow of the porchlight projected on his hair, laced with silver streaks.

His thick fingers wrapped around the chilled aluminum can. The Miller emblem peaked out from under his grasp, ironic.

"Hey sweetheart, you're early.." Your dad muttered out to you breaking the sound of that voice in your head, all while placing his beer on the table between him and Joel.

"Yeah I left a bit earlier, expecting more traffic." you smiled warmly at the man, as he embraced you in a hug.

Smiling over his shoulder to the man babysitting his Miller lite in awkward silence.

"Good to see you kiddo.." He said, quietly. almost like he didn't trust his voice.

Weird.

"Good to see you too Mr. Miller." You pulled away from your dad, now facing the older man. He nodded, taking another sip of his beer. "How's Sarah?" You questioned.

"Busy.. y'know how that girl is." He smiled. the corners of his mouth turned up, and wrinkled a bit with his smile lines.

You nodded in understanding. deciding it was getting a little late and you wanted to shower and unpack before you went to bed.

You drag the heavy suitcase up the stairs, its wheels hitting the wood every few steps. Turning the knob and opening the door to your bedroom, you sit the suitcase down on your bed and unzip it. Grabbing an old hoodie, underwear, and pair of shorts for after your shower.

Socked feet patter down the hallway as you make your way to the bathroom, passing your mothers room and noticing her at her vanity.

"Hey sweetheart, when did you get here?" She asked, as she slid out from the seat. standing up to give you a hug. "Maybe like 20 minutes ago?" You said, over her shoulder, honestly forgetting.

She nodded and began, "So when is Tyler coming in? The dinner is in two days sweetheart." Your heart kinda sunk at the mention of his name. "Oh uhm-" You didn't know how to tell her. "We broke up." You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and stared awkwardly at the floor. "Oh honey are you okay?" She asked, going in for a hug once again, you declined. "Yeah mom I'm alright." She smiled at you, sad for you. "What are you going to do about the dinner?" She asked. "I'm actually not sure, I'll figure it out." She nodded her head. "I'm gonna shower, it's getting late." She agreed, and you continued to the bathroom.

Latching the door behind you, you turned the dial on the shower and let the water heat up. Steam covered the mirror and dripped down in condensation. Shedding the clothes off from the drive, you stepped under the water and sighed at the feeling of warmth embracing you.

45 minutes later, you stepped out of the shower. Skin radiating steam from the heat of the water. You grabbed a white fluffy towel and wrapped it around your body. Drying off and getting dressed, you walked down the hallway and to your room. Moving the suitcase off the bed, and untucking the comforter from the sheets. Sliding your body between the mattress and comforter you plugged in your phone and went to sleep.

—

You woke up around 8am, to the all too familiar smell of breakfast. Yawning, you grabbed your phone, slipping it into the front pocket of your hoodie. Slowly making your way down the stairs, you lock eyes with-

No.

Oh my god no.

Joel.

Joel Miller.

In your kitchen.

All the while you looked like you just rolled out of bed.

Well in your defense-

Your internal voice was cut off by his gruff one.

"Morning' kiddo." He said nonchalantly, taking a bite of bacon. "Morning?" You said confused, looking between your parents as you sat down at the table. "Honey, I was just telling your father about Tyler.." Your mom started and you groaned, "Oh no mom, I don't want to talk about this right now." You muttered embarrassed, hiding behind your hoodie sleeve. She shushed you, filling up your glass with orange juice from the pitcher. "No, now just listen." She tried again, your father and Joel sitting in silence. You dropped your hands from your face and leaned forward, taking a sip from your glass, you listened. "Joel doesn't have a date either.. he so kindly offered to take you!" She said smiling, taking a scoop of eggs from the pan before handing the plate to you and sitting down. You almost choked. "I'm sorry what?" you felt like you could die from embarrassment, this can't be happening. "As a friend of course." Joel chimed in, your dad nodded. "He's just helpin' out your old man." Your dad smiled towards you. "Right." You forced a bite of eggs down. Joel silently ate his breakfast as your mom began to speak once more, "Now I know you probably don't have a dress yet, so we are going to head into town after breakfast to find you something nice." You nodded, taking another sip of orange juice.

God, I wish this was a mimosa.

—

You opted for a simple outfit to shop. needing something easy to change in and out of, all the while beating the Texas heat. Deciding on a worn out Texas Longhorns tanktop, and denim shorts. Brushing your hair and putting a pair of sunglasses on your head. Light makeup, fearing anything more would melt right off. Slipping on your Birkenstocks, you walked down the stairs and to your mother who was ready at the door.

—

You went to every boutique your mother could drag you into. Dressing you up like a Barbie doll. After what felt like 50 dresses you tried on, you pulled back the curtain to show your mother. "Oh my. This is the one, you look gorgeous sweetheart." You smiled at your mother, and turned to the mirror to admire the dress. It was black, about ankle length that hugged your body perfectly. The top dipped down enough to show a little cleavage, but still classy. You nodded towards your mother and went to get changed.

You bought a pair of black heels to compliment. opting to match, in fear of drawing away from the dress.

Your mother offered to buy lunch, which you accepted kindly. Stopping in at your favorite local spot and ordering a turkey sandwich.

The car pulled into the driveway around 2:30. Opening the door to get out. Then pulling the dress out, that was wrapped in a white dress bag.

"Did you find one honey?" Your father asked as you set down the keys on the table. "She did but you have to wait until tomorrow night to see it." She smiled at your father and you walked upstairs to hang the dress up.

—

Once the dress was safely tucked away in your closet, you laid on your bed quickly typing out a message.

"you really don't have to do this mr. miller." As much as you wanted this, you didn't want him to see you like a chore.

"Joel." He corrected. "And I offered, didn't I?" He replied.

"yeah you did. joel." You smiled and typed back.

Your heart pounded as you saw the three dots on the screen, waiting for his reply.

"I'll see you at 7 tomorrow night sweetheart."

You hearted his message.

God I hope that wasn't too forward.

Unhearting his message, you went downstairs to help prep for dinner.

—

Snoozing the first few alarms, you finally got up around 1pm. "Shit." You muttered out, not meaning to sleep in so late.

Opting for a quick breakfast, lunch. You ate a greek yogurt cup topped with granola and a few strawberries.

You got in the shower around two. You decided to take an everything shower, I mean anything could happen... right?

Getting out around 3pm, you blow dried your hair. Sitting down at your vanity, you curl and roll your hair, wanting a classy blowout look.

That took about 30 minutes. You didn't want to go too simple with your makeup, but still enough to not take away from your dress. You went for a black and dark brown smokey eye look, with thin eyeliner and big lashes.

You got done with your makeup at 5:30. You have an hour and a half before Joel arrives.

Walking down the hallway, hair still in rollers, in a full face of makeup, tank top and added sweatpants from earlier. "You look so pretty sugar." Your mother compliments. She was dressed in a navy blue dress, a little looser than yours but overall gorgeous. "Thank you momma.." You smiled back at the woman, "So do you." She smiled and your father came out with a tie in hand, he never could tie one by himself. "Still can't tie it?" You teased the man as he handed the silk to your mother who quickly helped him. "What would I do without you honey?" He questioned your mother, kissing her lips. "You'd be lost." She teased back, "Damn right." He looked at her with so much love as he combed his hair. "We are leaving soon." Your dad said, turning his attention from your mother’s small vanity mirror, and to you. "I thought it started at 7?" You questioned. He nodded, "Yes sweetheart but I have to be there early. I have to make a good impression." He replied. "Joel will be here around 6:30.. You should put your dress on." Your mother muttered. "Yeah that's what I was gonna ask, I need you to zip me up." the older woman nodded.

You walked down the hallway and into your room. Leaning into your closet, you retrieved the dress bag you tucked away earlier. Unzipping the bag and pulling out the dress. You slid the dress pooling at your feet, up your body and tucking your arms into the straps. You waddled from your room to your mothers to get her help zipping you up. You thanked her and hurried back to your room to undo the rollers that have been sitting in your hair. "Perfect." You smiled, satisfied with how they turned out. Taking your shoes from the box, you slid them on. Taking a once over of yourself in the mirror. Grabbing your clutch and phone, spritzing yourself with perfume before walking down the stairs. As soon as you reached the bottom of the staircase, the doorbell rang.

Perfect timing.

Your manicured hand wrapped around the silver door knob and twisted, the door opening to reveal a handsome older man. "Joel." you muttered.

He was dressed in a tux, you've never seen him so put together. His beautiful eyes went wide, looking you up and down. Clearing his throat, "You look beautiful." You smiled at the man, "Thank you Joel." You muttered out, “You look handsome.” His face flushed at your words. “Shall we?” He asked, clearing his throat. You nodded, shutting and locking the door behind you.

He opened the passenger door to his truck. God did he have to be a gentleman too?

Tucking your legs in, he shut the door behind you, rounding the hood of the car and joining you in the bench seat.

The car ride was silent. Stolen glances every once in a while. Pulling up to the venue, you sighed to yourself. Feeling some relief of the tension in the truck.

He opened your door and helped you out, placing his hand modestly on the small of your back.

You wished he let his hand roam a little lower, even if it was just for a moment.

With your arms linked, you entered the ballroom. Beautifully decorated for the occasion. Your mother was the first to come up to you. "Oh my sweet girl you look beautiful." Your mother kissed your cheek and turned to Joel. "You don't clean up too bad Miller." She teased the man. "Thank ya ma'am." He muttered as he complimented her back.

God that southern drawl..

The dinner lasted about 2 hours, your feet killing you. Damn those heels.

Your mother and father held back a bit, soaking up the congratulations from his new role in the company.

"Are you ready to head home sweetheart? Gettin' late." Joel asked, you nodded standing up from the table.

Your heels clicked against the pavement as the two of you walked back to his truck. Sliding off those cursed heels as soon as the door closed, you relaxed against the seat, taking a deep breath.

Joel buckled in and looked over to you, his restraint was tested more and more with each rise and fall of your chest, "Got a starin' problem Miller." His heart dropped as you muttered out, raising your head to look over at the man starting his truck. "Don't know what you're talkin' about kid." He said under his breath, knuckles white gripping on the wheel.

As he pulled out of the parking lot you had decided to test him, "Oh but I think I do...Mr. Miller" You teased. You wanted a reaction, something, anything. "That's enough." He muttered, eyes locked onto the road. You pulled your hair to one side of your neck, leaving your collarbone and dainty necklace on display. The necklace curving right at the dip of your cleavage.

You wanted him to break. Lose control. You wanted him. "See, I just don't think it's enough Miller." You pressed the matter further, voice softening with his name on your tongue, "I think there's a reason you offered to take me Joel.." You turned towards him in the bench seat.

"Just helpin' a friend sweetheart.." He almost whispered out, trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince you. The bench seat gave you more room to.. explore.

Sliding your foot over to his lap, tracing up and down his thigh. You could have sworn you saw the start of an outline in his pants. "Knock it off.." He tried, not really though. He didn't want you to stop.

You continued tracing his thigh, heel of your foot dipping down to the zipper of his dress pants. His restraint snapped like a cheap rubber band. His thick fingers wrapped around your ankle, "You tryna' get us killed girl?" He questioned, his face illuminated with the red from the stoplight. Looking down at his hold on your ankle, and the bulge underneath it.

Your breath got heavy, as he looked at you with those dark brown eyes, "Joel." You squealed out, like a mouse caught by a cat. Your body tensed under his touch. "Not so bold now sweetheart.. What happened?" He questioned, toying with you.

His fingers traced your ankle, and up your calf. Stopping at the bed of your knee. "Please.." You whispered out. "Please what darlin'?" He asked. He knew what you wanted, but Joel was the kinda man who needed to hear you say it. You shyed a bit, face flushing red. "Don't make me say it Joel." You begged. He just laughed.

The fucker laughed at you.

Pulling over on the side of a back road, he turned to you. "Can't give ya what y'want if you don't tell me sweetheart." He traced up your leg, higher this time. Feeling your thigh under your dress. "Y–You Joel." Your voice failed you, stuttering from nervousness. "Me? Well y'got me darlin'. What d'ya want me for?" He asked, teasing you again. He wasn't gonna let you off that easily.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you scooted closer to the man. Legs in his lap fully now. Hardness pressing against the bend of your knee. "Need you to touch me Miller.." You sighed out breathlessly. "There we go honey.. It wasn't that hard, was it now?" He smiled, satisfied with your answer. You whimpered out frustrated. You needed him to do something.. anything. "What would yer daddy think of you all whiny for me in my truck huh?" He asked, clearly getting off on how squirmy he was making you, "Those college boys not do it for ya sweetheart?" You shook your head, "Need you Joel.." He snickers, "I know yer always needin' somethin' ain't ya?" He questioned rhetorically.

He bunched up your dress, you lifted your hips so he could get it to your waist. "Soaked for me darlin'" He laughs, pressing a thick finger to the wet patch on your underwear. You whined and bucked your hips, "Joel quit teasin'.." You begged. "Ah ah who's in charge here baby?" He asked, "You Joel.." He smiled pleased at you, a wreck for him already. "Atta girl." He hooked his fingers in the elastic waistband of your underwear, sliding them down your legs and past your ankles. He reached over you, opening his glove box, throwing the pair in and shutting it back. "Don't need those, do ya sweetheart?" He asked and you were quick to shake your head.

Dirty old man.

Yet here you are absolutely soaked for said 'dirty old man'.

His thick finger traced your slit, teasing you. Your hips bucked again searching for friction. Joel was quick to correct you, using his hand on your stomach to hold you down. "Now you take what I give ya or yer gettin' nothin' t'all" He muttered out with dark eyes. You nodded.

His finger dipped past your folds and into you. "Oh god Joel." You whined out, still under his hold. "Barely touched ya and yer goin' crazy.." He trailed off, "What 'm I gonna do with ya huh?" He questioned, but before you could answer he added another finger. Stretching you out deliciously. "C'mon sweetheart if you can't take this you sure as hell ain't gonna be able to take me.." He said cockily, replying to your moans.

His fingers pumped in and out, curling in, like he knew your body better than you did.

Sure as hell felt like it.

"Close Joel.." Was all you could manage to get out. That band in your belly wound tighter and tighter with each thrust of his hand. "C'mon baby girl let go f'me." He said, leaning over you to kiss down your neck.

That was all it took.

Those words.

His mouth.

Your back arched off the worn-out red leather of the old pickup truck he's always driving. Chest heaving as you came down from one hell of a high.

A thin layer of sweat covered your body as you leaned your head up to look at the man between your legs. Smug as ever he locked gaze with your eyes, taking his fingers in his mouth, tasting you. His eyes rolled back as the sweet tang filled his mouth. "Taste like heaven sweetheart.." He wiped the saliva off his fingers and onto his dress pants.

You smiled up at the man, still drunk on the high you just came down from. "You think y'ready for me honey?" He asked as he unbuckled his belt, throwing it down to the floorboard. You nodded, wanting nothing more than to feel him. For real this time.

"Words baby.." He teased, "Yes! please God." you whined out, "M'name ain't God.." He joked.

Smug son of a bitch.

He pushed down his black slacks, his boxers following suit. His cock sprung out, and your eyes went wide. "You flatter me sweetheart." He chuckles, undoing his tie and discarding it to the floorboard.

"Shit." His face dropped when he realized, "I don't have a condom." He looked down at you, still catching your breath. "Don't care.. m'clean.." He shook his head, "Y'sure bout' this?" He questioned. "Can't come back from this sugar.." He tried again but you didn't care.

You wanted this. Wanted him.

"Fuck me already Miller." You managed to get out, and he just laughed. "Ain't nothin' but trouble.." He sighed out, pushing the head of his cock between your folds. You gasped out as he began to slide into you.

"F-Fuck Joel.." You cried out, slumping against the door of his truck, "You can take it baby I'm right here.. trust me." You swallowed hard at his words, burying himself into you, fully to the hilt. He gave you a minute to adjust. "You can move.." You whimpered and he took the green light to slowly pull out almost all the way, before plunging right back in.

"S'dirty for wantin' this trouble.." He used that nickname again. Your back arched with every thrust. "Wantin' yer old man's best friend like this.." He rubbed it in more, like salt in a wound.

You did feel guilty..

But more so, of the effect his words were having on you.

His dirty words went straight to your core, winding that band tighter and tighter..

"Joel.." You whined, all this becoming too much.. you couldn't last much longer. "I know baby I know.." He mocked sincerity. picking up the pace a bit. Your eyes started to roll back in your head, and you were clenching harder and harder. He leaned down, taking your neck in his hold and pulling you to him. Pressing his lips to yours.

He grunted through the kiss, your moans mixing in. pulling back from the kiss he picked up the pace once more, "C'mon give me one more trouble." He commanded, and you obeyed. Almost as quickly as he asked, you delivered. Back arching off the worn-out red leather again. White heat over taking your body. Thighs shaking as you came down. and Joel? He was fucking you through it. His body shuttered and you knew he couldn't last much longer.

"M'on the pill.." You muttered out, and that was all Joel needed to hear. With a few more thrusts he buried into one last time, releasing inside. Filling you up.

Sweat covered the both of you as he pulled out. The mixture of both his and your release pooling between your thighs. He reached in his floor, trying to find something to clean you up with.

Settling on his tie, he bunched the fabric and cleaned you up, throwing the soiled tie in the back seat. You tried to catch your breath, pulling your dress back down to your ankles and buckling up like nothing happened. Joel got situated and buckled, turning over the truck as you slipped your black heels back on.

You did not miss those. You thought as you picked up your phone from the floor. Heart dropping when you look at the time. 11:57pm "Shit." You muttered, dozens of missed calls from your parents you were too.. busy to hear. "Joel, I need to get home..now." You showed him your phone and he pulled out of the back road and onto the main one.

You finally got home at 12:20am..

Saying your goodbyes to Joel with a promise of this happening again. Smelling like sex, with your hair and dress a mess, you fished out your key from the small clutch you brought with you. You locked the door behind you, slipping off your shoes and taking them in one hand. Thinking you're out of the woods, you start to tiptoe up the stairs. When you are halfway to your room, the hallway light flickers on and you hear your mother, and her voice calling your name.

Fuck.

[staley83]

Make It or Break It

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Pregnant!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is determined to not let the kitchen sink defeat him.

Word Count: Over 2k

Warnings: Established relationship, pregnancy, swearing, implied smut, fluff, feels, domestic life, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Another new AU? Why not? Inspired by a wonderful nonnie. And thanks @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me discuss this. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was a peaceful day for Bucky. Well, it was supposed to be a peaceful day. He should’ve been snuggled up with you on the couch, reading a book or watching a movie. He could’ve taken a ride on his bike, or gone to that bakery you love to surprise you with something sweet. Instead of doing any of those things, he was stuck under the kitchen sink that suddenly decided to stop running hot water.  

Heaving a heavy sigh, he mentally reviewed the list of things he had checked: the shut-off valve, a possible leaking hot water line, and the aerator for blockages. No such luck. He hoped it wasn’t a water heater issue. That was the last thing you needed to deal with.  

He grunted and reached for the wrench, not understanding what the problem was. He was handy, and had fixed everything around the house. So far he patched holes in drywall, replaced windows, repaired the roof, and remodeled the kitchen, to name a few. Sam could vouch for his skills since he fixed things on the boat. Surely he could repair this.  

Or it might be the thing to finally defeat him.

“Fuck that,” he muttered, gripping the wrench so tight he nearly bent it.

The former brainwashed assassin had faced worse: superpowered enemies, a world war, experimentation, losing a limb, brainwashing, torture, PTSD, and more. For Christ's sake, he was dusted by Thanos. He refused to let a kitchen sink defeat him, especially since he had promised you he'd fix it, and he always kept his promises to you.

Bucky stared down the pipe with a withering death stare. Why the fuck wasn’t the hot water running? “I’m not going to let you break me, you piece of shit.”

“Bucky?”

As he crawled out from under the sink, his gaze softened at the sight of you. Your bare feet gently padded across the floor as you moved toward him, a tender smile on your face and a hand on your belly. He hadn’t grasped what pregnancy glow was until you became pregnant with his child. It was like a soft ray of sunlight that glowed through you and touched everything within its reach. It was beautiful, just like you.

Sunshine to his moonbeam.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he rasped, still in awe of your beauty.

You ducked your head and smiled to yourself, something you had done from the first time he called you that term of endearment. “Sink still giving you trouble?” you asked, keeping your tone light since you knew it was a sore subject. With a clench of his jaw, he nodded. “Maybe we should-”

He cut you off with a point of his finger and saw you struggling not to smile. “Do not suggest a plumber.”

He felt his resolve begin to crack when you batted your eyes. He couldn't resist that look, which always got you what you wanted, but he couldn’t bend on this. “We don't have to call a plumber, but it might not be a bad idea to have someone take a look.” Bucky’s lip curled in a snarl, but you just smiled. “I don't mind.”

“I mind because I said I can fix this and I will. I promised you that,” he argued.

It was irrational for him to feel jealous at the thought of someone else fixing the sink, but he didn’t want you depending on someone else to fix stuff around the home you made together. If he couldn't take care of your home, it meant he couldn't take care of you, which he would always do. Just as you took care of him, being partners meant you relied on each other.

Additionally, the idea of another man checking you out, which he knew would happen because you were stunning, both infuriated him and filled him with pride, as he didn't want anyone else to admire your beauty, but was happy to call you his own.

You shook your head after a moment, as if you read his mind. “Okay, He-Man. We don’t have to call anyone.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, but then sat up abruptly, his heart racing in alarm as he was about to go back under the sink. “Wait, why aren't you lying down?”

Fatigue hit you out of nowhere earlier, and you went to rest, which he felt a pang of guilt for. It was a common symptom in pregnancies, but he couldn’t help but wonder if any of the serum would pass on to his kids or what it would do to your body. But you didn’t complain, didn’t show any signs of worry. He may be a super soldier, but you were the one with the strength.

“I’m fine,” you assured him before a sheepish smile crossed your face. “Except I'm a little hungry.”

He chuckled and sat up to wipe his hands, relieved that there was nothing wrong. He couldn’t help feeling protective. “You or the baby, sweetheart?” 

Rubbing a hand over your stomach, you giggled. The sound wrapped around him like a warm hug and urged him to exhale his frustration. “I think we’re both hungry. Something sweet and salty.”

He crawled on his hands and knees, making you giggle again, until he reached you and sat back on his heels. Pulling you close by your hips, he pressed a gentle kiss to your stomach and smiled. “Hey, sprout,” he whispered. 

A blossoming life was growing within you like a sprout.

“Sprout loves your voice,” you whispered, running a hand through his hair as he closed his eyes.

Bucky hoped so. He read books to your belly and sometimes talked when you had fallen asleep, telling stories of his past and how excited and nervous he was for the future. He also talked about how amazing you were, how he was lucky to have you as a wife and how lucky they’d be to have you as a mother.

Despite everything life had thrown at him, he got a family, a dream come true he had tried not to hope for.

“Well, I’m glad our little sprout hasn’t heard me swearing today,” he joked, kissing your stomach again. “That kitchen sink is trying to get the better of me, but I won’t let it.”

“Your father is a stubborn man,” you smiled, clutching Bucky’s head to you as he rested it on your belly.

“And your mother is a stubborn woman, don’t let her fool you. She also suggested calling a plumber, which I’m against,” he said, keeping a hand beside his head. “Give me a kick if you think I can fix it myself.”

“Bucky, we-”

Both of you gasped when your baby kicked where Bucky’s palm rested. He stared up at you with wide and happy eyes, his heart swelling in his chest. “D… Did you feel that?” he whispered.

“I did,” you smiled, your eyes shining with unshed tears. Your baby kicked, and it was one of the most incredible things he had ever felt. 

He let out a slow breath. For years, he was forced to fight. The war, HYDRA, and everything that followed. No one ever really asked what he wanted. At the end of the day, it all came down to this: building a home with a loving family.

As he knelt there, you smiled down at him, feeling your baby move, and he realized he'd do it all over again for this moment. 

“Help me get a snack, and then you can finish fixing the sink,” you suggested.

“And no plumber?” he smiled, more determined to keep his promise to you, since your baby believed he could do it.

“No plumber,” you promised with a sly smile. “Unless you want to pretend to be a plumber and help me clear out my pipes.”

His nose crinkled when he laughed. “Earmuffs, sprout. You don’t need to hear those things your Mama is saying.”

“Me?!” He chuckled when your voice went up an octave. “What about all the dirty things you say? Like this morning when I woke up to you doing that thing with your tongue and-”

Bucky suddenly stood up and silenced you with a deep, sensual kiss that would send your hormones into overdrive. As he pulled away from your lips, he was met with your shuddering breath, and he trailed soft kisses along your face. “Now, sweetheart, we both know you seduced me in your sleep, and I couldn’t resist having a taste.”

How could he ever resist you?

“I seduced you in my sleep, huh?” you asked with love shining in your eyes. His eyes reflected the same. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered, giving your ass a gentle pat and smirking when you gasped. “Now sit tight while I get us a snack and finish fixing the sink. You said something sweet and salty, right?”

“Right,” you nodded.

“Peanut butter pretzels?” he suggested, hoping he was right. He’d hate to see your face fall if he guessed the craving incorrectly.

When your face lit up, he breathed a sigh of relief, especially since he had just stocked up. “Yes, please.” Guiding you to the island stool, he felt your eyes on him as he moved around the kitchen. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said, setting a filled up bowl in front of you. He didn’t care if it was the middle of the night. If you were hungry, he would get you something or go out to find what you wanted.

“No, I mean, thank you for… everything.” He stopped when your eyes welled up, his heart aching at the sight. “God, these hormones,” you teased, wiping away tears as they spilled over.

“Hey,” he whispered, turning you on the stool, and gently framed your face to wipe away the remaining tears. Your hormones made you cry at the drop of a hat, and he was thankful that you allowed him to comfort you whenever that happened. “I should be thanking you.”

Bucky had found love and a family thanks to you, which filled his heart to the point of overflowing. He had purpose, and he was still a hero. He had a life he wanted, one worth fighting for. To him, it meant everything and more.

“You do thank me. Every single day,” you reminded him, bringing your hand up to trace his wedding band. 

“Does that mean I get a reward after I fix the sink?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows before you smacked his arm. “Worth a shot.”

“Tell you what,” you smirked, picking up one of the peanut butter pretzels. “If you get the sink fixed before I finish this bowl, I’ll reward you.”

When you popped the treat into your mouth with a hum and licked your lips, he bit back a groan. “And if I don’t?” he asked, determined not to lose. 

You shrugged and inspected the next piece. “Then you don’t get a taste of me for a whole week.”

He gawked at you. Withholding that delicious nectar between your thighs from him for a whole week? That was cruel and unusual punishment.

“Listen. I know you can fix it and our baby knows you can fix it, too,” you said, nodding to the sink. “So get to work because I’m hungry.”

He kissed you for luck, tasting the sweet and salty snack on your lips. “You’re on, sweetheart,” he said, winking and rushing back to the sink as you watched. 

“Domesticity is really sexy on you.”

He winked again. “Don’t I know it.”

It turned out that your belief in him, along with your baby’s and the promise of a reward, provided the exact motivation he needed to fix the sink. Just as he had kept his promise to you, you kept yours and rewarded him right there in the kitchen. After carrying you back to the couch, ignoring your protests about your weight, he felt lucky once again to have such an incredible wife and mother of his child. 

And if he was really lucky, you two would have more than one.

What other domestic things do we want to see Bucky get up to? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[staley83]

Can you please do one teasing and edging Joel???

Reader edges him multiple times giving a blowjob and he starts getting super frustrated and maybe a lil mad that she won’t let him finish and then when she does it’s super intense for him and worth the wait 🤭🤭

Push Me, Pull Me

PAIRING: Joel Miller x reader

WORD COUNT: 1474| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Masterlist II

Joel Miller Masterlist

Joel Miller likes to think he’s the one in control.

He acts like it, at least , the steady hands, the low voice, the way he tilts your chin up with two fingers and says open your mouth, baby like you’d never dream of telling him no. Usually, you don’t. Usually, you love the way he folds you in half and keeps his palm over your mouth when you get too loud.

But tonight’s different. Tonight you want to see how far you can push him , how long you can keep him on that pretty edge he loves to keep you on.

It starts slow. He’s sprawled back on the bed, broad shoulders pressed into the pillows, shirt long gone, jeans shoved halfway down his thighs. The lamp on the nightstand spills soft gold over his chest, that sprinkle of hair, the deep line of muscle down his stomach. He’s flushed already , warm pink across his chest, his throat, the tips of his ears.

You’re between his legs, kneeling on the sheets. You can feel him twitching against your palm , hard and heavy, the tip already glistening. He’s watching you with that look, half amused, half warning. You know that look. The don’t push it, sweetheart look.

But you’re pushing it.

“Pretty boy,” you hum, kissing the inside of his thigh, feeling the muscle jump under your mouth. “Want me to taste you?”

Joel huffs a laugh, breathless. “Don’t play dumb. Put that mouth on me, baby.”

You do. Slowly. You lick a hot stripe from the base to the tip, then close your lips around him, just enough to feel him pulse on your tongue. His hips jerk, a quiet hiss sliding through his teeth.

“That’s it. Good girl,”

But you pull off too soon , a wet pop, your spit glistening on him in the low light.

Joel frowns, head tipping up to glare down at you. “What’re you doin’?”

“Nothing.” You smile sweetly, stroke him once, twice. “Just want to make it last.”

“Yeah?” He raises a brow, voice rough. “And who’s that for, huh? You teasin’ yourself or me?”

You hum again, tongue slipping out to circle his tip, just enough pressure to watch him bite his lip. “Both.”

You start a rhythm , slow, lazy. You take him deep enough to feel him hit the back of your throat, then pull back to swirl your tongue under the head, feel him twitch. Your free hand trails up his stomach, nails scratching lightly through the hair there. He shivers.

“Fuck,” He tries to buck up into your mouth but you pull back again, lips wet and shiny as you grin at him.

“Ah, ah. Stay still.”

Joel lets out a laugh that breaks into a growl. “Don’t tell me to stay still. You want my cock, you take it.”

“I am taking it,” you say, all faux innocence. “Just… not yet.”

You go back down, hollow your cheeks, suck just hard enough to have him curse, hips stuttering. You feel the tension building in his thighs, the way his hand fists in the sheets beside him.

“Goddamn it, baby, don’t, don’t you,”

You pop off again, pressing a soft kiss to the tip. He makes a sound that’s almost a whine.

“Say please,” you tease.

He narrows his eyes at you, nostrils flaring. “You’re fuckin’ pushin’ it,”

“I know.” You kiss the inside of his other thigh, right where the muscle is tight and twitching. “Say please anyway.”

He glares. Then you swipe your tongue right under the head again , just the sensitive spot , and he groans, head falling back.

“Please. Jesus. Please.”

You reward him , for a bit. You take him back in, deeper this time, feel him hit your throat, relax your jaw to swallow around him. He moans, low and rough, hips bucking just a little until you press your palm flat to his stomach.

“Don’t move,” you murmur around him, words muffled. He groans again, torn between pleasure and frustration.

You suck him just right , slow drags, tongue pressing, pulling back just to sink again. His voice cracks on a curse when you hum around him.

“Fuck, fuck , that’s it , just like that , don’t you, fuck,”

He’s so close you feel it , the twitch, the tense curl of his abs, the desperate flex of his thighs. You pull off at the last second, hand gripping him at the base to stop it. He curses, low and vicious.

“God damn it,”

You grin up at him, lips shiny, chin wet. “What? You said please.”

His chest is heaving now, hair damp at his temples. His hand comes up to grip your hair , not pulling, just holding, like he needs an anchor.

“You’re fuckin’ evil,” he mutters.

“Mm, but you like it,” you say sweetly. You kiss the head again, then lick the slit, tasting him. His hips jerk.

“Stop, stoppin’,” he pants. “Want you to fuckin’ finish what you started,”

“You will,” you promise. “Eventually.”

The second time you take him right to the edge, his voice breaks. He’s cursing, begging, the big hand in your hair tightening when you hollow your cheeks and suck him deeper, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth.

He’s so close you can feel him pulse, feel the tension snap through his belly.

“Don’t, don’t you fuckin’ dare,”

You pull back again, thumb and finger pinching at the base. His hips buck uselessly, eyes blown wide and furious.

“Jesus Christ, girl, I swear to god,”

You smile, soft and wicked. “What’re you gonna do about it, big man?”

Joel’s chest is flushed dark now, his voice wrecked. “When I get my hands on you, when I fuckin’ get up, you’re not walkin’ tomorrow, you hear me?”

“Promises, promises.”

By the third time, his voice is hoarse. He’s sweating, hair sticking to his forehead, abs trembling under your touch. He’s breathing through his teeth, trying not to lose it when you suck him all the way down again , letting him feel it, savor it, dragging your nails up his thighs just to watch the muscle jump.

He’s babbling now, cursing under his breath, words slurring into a growl. “Please , baby, baby, c’mon , don’t stop, don’t you fuckin’,”

You pull off again. He makes a sound you’ve never heard before , half desperate moan, half feral growl.

“You hate me,” you giggle, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

He glares down at you, chest heaving. “You got no fuckin’ idea what you’re in for when I get up.”

You lick a stripe up the vein on the underside. He shudders so hard you feel it in his thighs.

“Beg one more time.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. “You, you fuckin’, baby, please. Please. Please let me come.”

You tilt your head, tongue flicking over him again. “Good boy.”

This time you don’t stop.

You take him deep and hard, your hand stroking what you can’t reach, your tongue slick and messy. He’s groaning, a low desperate sound that makes your own thighs clench together. He tries so hard to keep his hips down but they buck helplessly when you hum around him.

“Gonna, baby, I’m gonna, fuck,”

You swallow him deeper, let him hit the back of your throat, feel him pulse so hard you moan around him. He falls apart with a rough growl of your name, hips jerking once, twice , then he’s spilling down your throat, hot and thick and endless, your mouth swallowing him down as you hold him steady.

His hand is in your hair, gentle now, rubbing your scalp like he’s apologizing for every threat he made. You keep sucking him through it, every last wave of it, until he’s twitching and whimpering , a sound you’ll keep locked away for later.

When you finally pull off, lips swollen, chin shiny, he’s staring at you like you just ruined him and remade him in the same breath.

“Jesus Christ,” he pants. “You, you fuckin’,”

You grin, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. “Was it worth the wait?”

Joel’s still catching his breath, but there’s that glint in his eye now , the dangerous one.

“Get up here,” he rasps, voice wrecked. “You think you’re done? Sweetheart, you’re not fuckin’ sleepin’ tonight.”

You squeal when he grabs your arm, flipping you onto your back in a heartbeat , all that pent-up frustration finally unleashed, rough hands sliding under your thighs, pushing them wide.

Joel’s mouth is on yours before you can taunt him again , his kiss tasting like salt and sweat and a promise that he’s nowhere near done punishing you for what you did.

You wouldn’t want it any other way.

[staley83]

Outlaw Hands

Summary: You don’t even make it past the garage door before Jax has you bent over the seat of his bike, your cheek pressed to the cool leather as his hands roam up the backs of your thighs.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, garage sex, dirty talk

He doesn’t even bother taking your panties off, just shoves them to the side before wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and shoving you over his bike, arching your back into him. You hear the jingle of his belt as he takes his pants off, biting your lip in anticipation as you feel him line his cock up between your legs.

He shoves himself inside of you—roughly—and you gasp, hands gripping the edge of his leather seat. He groans as he slips inside your wet, tight cunt—head spinning. You whimper when his hand tightens around the back of your throat, arching your back further into him and using your hands to brace yourself against his bike.

“Fuck, baby.” He pants out between thrusts, voice dark and rough, “Just had to have you. Don’t care if we’re closed or not.”

You would have cringed at the reminder if he wasn’t fucking you so good; the two of you weren’t alone at TM. Tig and Chibs were just outside the parking lot before Jax pulled you away, and you’re sure Gemma is lurking around the office somewhere. Any one of them could walk in at any moment.

But you don’t care. And he clearly doesn’t mind either.

His hand slides from your neck down your spine, thumb pressing into the dip of your back as he thrusts harder. The leather squeaks under your palms every time he slams into you, the smell of oil and sweat and him so thick in the air it makes you dizzy.

“You feel that?” he growls, voice low in your ear. “Feel how fuckin’ wet you are for me? Can’t even pretend you don’t love this.”

You try to shake your head, some last flicker of embarrassment, but he just laughs—rough and mean—and drags his cock out slow before snapping his hips back into you so hard your knees almost buckle.

“That’s it, baby—fuck—take all of me.” He groans, burying himself as deep as he can while you shudder around him, your nails digging into the leather. “Mine. You hear me?”

You nod to the best of your ability, choking out a weak “yours” while swearing to yourself you can feel him in your stomach.

His hand comes up to fist in your hair, tugging your head back so your mouth falls open in a helpless gasp. Every thrust punches another broken little sound out of your throat.

“That’s my girl,” he growls, voice dark and raw, hips snapping forward with bruising force. “Taking me so fuckin’ good. Bet you’d let me keep you right here all day—stuffed full of my cock, lettin’ everyone hear how pretty you sound when you come.”

Heat coils tight in your belly, every nerve lit up. You try to answer, but it’s just a strangled moan as he slams into you again, harder, deeper.

“Come on,” he pants, lips brushing your ear. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel it.”

It only takes one more rough thrust, the head of his cock dragging against that spongy spot inside you, and your vision goes white. You cry out, shaking, your orgasm crashing over you so hard you nearly collapse over the bike.

Jax doesn’t stop. He grits out a curse and slams into you one last time, holding himself deep as he spills inside you, hips jerking with each pulse. You feel every hot, possessive throb of it.

For a moment, neither of you moves—just breathing hard, clinging to each other. Then his palm smooths over your back, voice softer as he leans down to press a kiss to your temple.

“Fuck,” he murmurs against your skin. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me.”

[staley83]

“You threw a flower pot at me, Metal Bug.”

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Female Reader Summary: After a mission doesn’t go as planned, tensions rise in the debriefing room when Steve criticizes your reckless methods. Bucky, who wasn’t on the mission, overhears and snaps—fiercely defending you and making it clear that he accepts every part of who you are. When you arrive, the tension eases as the argument shifts into teasing banter, ending with a nostalgic moment about your chaotic first meeting. Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), throwing furniture implied, protective vibes, banters and y/n sarcasm. A/n: i made one shot of Bucky as a husband... giggling shit when i wrote this

``masterlist

The debriefing room was cold, sterile. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting sharp shadows across the concrete floor. Steve paced near the long metal table, his jaw tight, a hand pressed to his side where the dull throb of a deep bruise pulsed steadily beneath his uniform.

It hadn’t gone according to plan. Not even close.

They’d been tracking the Hydra remnant cell for weeks, narrowing in on a covert base tucked beneath an abandoned warehouse in Prague. Intel suggested there’d be one target—middle-ranking, armed, probably paranoid. Simple snatch and extract.

But the plan had started unraveling the moment they breached the perimeter. And it all came to a head when she got involved.

The worst part? The target had a suicide capsule tucked behind his molar. Steve hadn’t even seen it. You did.

Now, both of you are back.

“I tried to take them out clean, Bucky,” Steve snapped, breaking the silence as he turned sharply on his heel. “But your psychotic little wife beat me to it. I could've extracted the intel myself if she didn’t—wait. Buck—”

The air shifted like pressure dropping before a storm.

Bucky had been silent until now, standing near the wall, arms crossed, eyes locked somewhere distant. But now—his shoulders straightened. His jaw clenched. The metal plates of his left arm whirred faintly as his fist curled tight.

“My what?” he growled, low and dangerous. “WHAT did you just call her?”

Steve stopped mid-step, raising both hands instinctively. “Buck, I didn’t mean—”

But Bucky was already moving.

He shoved Steve hard—too hard with his vibranium arm, slamming him into the wall with enough force to rattle the filing cabinet nearby. Steve winced, more out of surprise than pain.

“No,” Bucky snarled, his voice a serrated edge. “You said it. Say it again. Come on, Rogers...say one more thing about my wife.”

Steve blinked, stunned. Bucky’s eyes were glacial and full of fire.

“You called her psychotic?” Bucky hissed. “You think I don’t know she’s a handful?”

His voice dropped to something quieter, sharper. A whisper full of threat.

“But she’s brilliant. And she’s mine. So watch your mouth, Cap. You think I don’t know how she is? You think I don’t see the chaos, the recklessness, the fire in her? I love her for it. And if you ever call her psychotic again… friend or not, I’ll put you through that wall.”

Steve didn’t respond.

How could he respond to Buchannan? He had known you for years. Since the Red Room, since your shaky defection. Since the first time you and Bucky had shown up to a debriefing arm-in-arm, bruised and bantering. He knew you were unpredictable. Likes to bend your own rules. 

You are lethal, yes. But calculated. Exacting. Controlled chaos, wrapped in sarcasm and steel.

Before either of them could speak again, the door creaked open.

You stepped in quietly, pausing just inside the threshold. The weight of the room hit you immediately—the way Steve was still pressed to the wall, the heat still burning behind Bucky’s eyes.

You freeze at the thick tension in the room. Taking in the two best friends on the verge of pulling each other's hairs. The wall behind the blonde man is cracked. You sighed, both hands on your hips ‘like a tired mom seeing a sugar high child zooming in the room’.

“I leave you with Steve for 15 minutes,” you said slowly, “and you put him through a wall? Look at that, Metal Bug, you crack the damn wall. Again…”

Bucky turned toward her, his face still hard with residual anger—but the moment his eyes landed on her, everything shifted. His posture eased slightly. His jaw relaxed. The edge in his gaze softened into something weary, something aching.

“You wanna tell me what really happened out there?” he asked, his voice gentler now. “Because I’m hearing you turned an intel grab into a one-woman demolition derby.”

He paused, deadpan.

“You knocked him out with a chair, didn’t you?”

You gave him a look. The kind of look that said you didn’t regret a damn thing.

---

The mission was supposed to be clean.

Infiltrate. Secure the target. Extract the intel. Get out.

Steve had outlined the plan in the hangar an hour before touchdown, standing in front of a projected layout of the warehouse with that familiar no-nonsense tone. You stood off to the side, arms crossed, eyes scanning the blueprint but already seeing the flaws in it. Bucky stood between you and Steve, close enough that his arm brushed yours when he shifted, his presence grounding—but tense.

“We go in through the southeast service entrance. No alarms, no explosives. It’s a low-tier Hydra lab. One mark, maybe two guards,” Steve explained, tapping on the map. “I’ll take lead. You stay up high,”—he nodded toward you—“in overwatch until the grab is clean.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So I babysit from a catwalk while you run in like it’s 1943?”

Bucky gave you a look—half-warning, half-amused. “It’s not babysitting. You’re backup.”

You snorted. “Sure. Backup. With no visual on the target’s hands, no intel on any implants, and no idea whether he’s even alone. Sounds solid.”

Steve’s jaw ticked. “The mission is recon and extraction. Nothing more.”

You didn’t need to look at Bucky to feel his eyes on you. He was used to this. The fire in your voice. The unwillingness to play it safe when people were at risk. You weren’t reckless—you were thorough. And if that made you a pain in the ass, so be it.

Steve sighed, clearly holding his temper. “We stick to the plan. Everyone stays in their lane.”

You didn’t reply, just gave a thin smile and walked off toward the Quinjet, braid swinging behind you.

The warehouse was quiet.

Too quiet.

Your boots made no sound on the overhead catwalk as you moved like shadow, eyes scanning the main floor below. The air was stale, metallic, tinged with chemical rot. A dim yellow light flickered overhead, casting long, twitchy shadows over the crates and rusting machinery.

Steve  moved along the lower level, voices low over comms. You watched from above, tracking the target: male, early 40s, lean build, pacing near an old generator bank. He was talking to someone over a burner phone, voice tense, shoulders rigid.

You didn’t like the twitch in his fingers.

“He’s nervous,” you murmured over comms. “Could be armed. Or rigged.”

“Let me handle it,” Steve replied.

“Copy,” you answered, but your fingers tightened on your sidearm.

The second Steve stepped into view, the target ran.

That was mistake number one.

Steve surged forward, too slow. You leapt from the catwalk, rolling into a crouch between rusted crates, cutting off the target’s escape.

The target froze—then reached into his mouth.

Your eyes widened.

“TOOTH!” you shouted.

There was no time.

You grabbed the nearest object—an old folding chair left near a crate—and hurled it.

Metal cracked against bone with a sickening crunch, dropping the man instantly. His head slammed into the floor, eyes rolling back as he went limp. You were already kneeling beside him, prying open his mouth.

The capsule was cracked… but intact.

He hadn’t swallowed it.

He would’ve.

You sat back on your heels, chest heaving, blood thundering in your ears. A shadow loomed over you.

“What the hell was that?” Steve barked, arriving two steps behind you.

“Improvised takedown, and you took long enough to react to throw that flying disk of yours, Rogs.”  you replied.

“You used a chair.” He deadpanned, gesturing to the dented metal chair beside the sprawled target.

“He was two seconds from biting down and dying, Cap,” you snapped, standing to your full height. “You wanted him alive? Now he is. You’re welcome.”

“Jesus,” Steve muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

“No,” you said coolly, already pulling the flash drive from the man’s jacket. “Your plan didn’t work. Mine did.”

---

“He was going for the tooth,” you said flatly, walking in without hesitation. “Didn’t have time to get fancy. You told me to improvise if anything goes wrong, Sargeant.”

You tossed a small flash drive onto the table. “Intel’s there. Audio, data pull, partial encryption—we’ll need Nat to crack it.”

Steve stared at it for a beat, still catching his breath, still leaning against the wall from Bucky’s shove.

“You launched a folding chair at him,” Steve muttered, incredulous. “Who even does that?”

You didn’t blink. “A woman with good aim.”

Bucky’s lips twitched like he wanted to smile but thought better of it. He dragged a hand over his face instead, exhaling slow through his nose. “Jesus, doll…”

“What?” you asked, folding your arms. “You trained me, remember? Improvisation. Adaptability. Brutal efficiency.”

You gestured toward Steve. “He’s still breathing. 

That’s minimized.”

Steve let out a dry laugh, rubbing his ribs. “Barely.”

“You’re lucky that’s all you’re getting,” you shot back without even glancing at him. “You called me psychotic?”

Bucky cleared his throat, suddenly interested in the floor. “He did.”

“Wow.” Your voice turned syrup-sweet and dangerous. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll be sure to pass your compliments to the next guy I interrogate.”

“Doll,” Bucky warned, but the smirk you flashed at him made it clear you weren't angry, just amused.

Steve straightened with a wince. “Look, I’m just saying next time, maybe don’t use a folding chair as your Plan A.”

You turned on your heel. “Next time, I’ll use a stapler. Smaller. More precise.” More sarcasm from you towards Steve, habits to annoying him.

Bucky looked between the two of them, then rubbed a hand down his face like he was too tired to keep up.

“You ever think of not using furniture as weapons?” he asked.

You gave him a small smile. “Improvisation. You taught me that.”

His eyes flicked to Steve, then back to you. “Yeah, but I didn’t say use chairs like throwing knives.”

“I had good form,” you said lightly.

He shook his head slowly, then muttered under his breath, “I married a damn gremlin.”

You opened your mouth to quip back—but then his expression shifted, his shoulders lowering, the corner of his mouth twitching like he couldn’t quite help himself.

“Eh,” you said casually, watching him. “You remember when we first met? You tried to take me down and threw a flower pot at my head.”

Bucky blinked, caught off guard by the sudden memory. “God,” he muttered. “Yeah. I remember.”

“I fell because of that. Flat face on the ground.”

He couldn’t stop it this time,the smirk broke free. His arms crossed over his chest, metal fingers tapping against  his flesh arm. He looked at you like someone remembering a scar that no longer hurt.

“You were the most stubborn, pain-in-the-ass target I’ve ever failed to extract,” he said dryly. “I was trying to stop you, not give you a concussion. You’re lucky I didn’t throw something heavier.”

You grinned. “You were slow.”

“I was distracted. You were wearing that ridiculous train fuzzy sweatpants and screaming like I kicked your cat.”

You lifted a brow. “You broke into my safe house in the middle of the night.”

“Fury can’t reach you on his phone. He send me to get you.”

“Still, you threw a flower pot at my head.”

He narrowed his eyes, leaning in slightly. “Still told you not to remind me of that, doll.”

“Too late,” you said sweetly.

Steve groaned in the background, rubbing his temples.

“Please. Can you two flirt somewhere else? Or at least stop reminiscing about domestic battery?”

Bucky didn’t look at him.

He only looked at you.

Steve let out a low groan, still nursing the deep bruise on his ribs. “Look, all I’m saying is next time, maybe don’t treat the mission like a cage match.”

You stepped closer, arms crossed. “Next time, maybe don’t underestimate the target.”

Bucky held up a hand, exasperated. “Alright. Enough. You both did what you thought was right. Steve, you’re not bleeding. Doll, you’re not detained because of the throwing chair thing. So I’m calling this a win.”

He looked at you again, this time quieter. His voice dropped to something only you could hear.

“I just need to know you’re okay.”

Your expression shifted, some of the sarcasm slipping away.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, you fingers brushing against his briefly. “You always worry too much.”

Bucky sighed, brushing a gloved hand down his face.

“I married a damn gremlin.” He repeated again.

You smirked. “You chose this gremlin.”

As they turned toward the door, Steve lingered behind them, shaking his head, watching them go—two chaotic pieces that somehow fit together perfectly.

“…still a gremlin,” Steve muttered under his breath.

From the hallway, your voice echoed back without missing a beat. “I heard that, Cap.”

Bucky’s chuckle reverberates after her quip.

A/n: I appreciate any feedback and any requests/ prompts of Bucky or Logan accepted too, hehe <(♡•♡)/ thx for reading. Looking for moots🥲 hit me up PLEASE

[staley83]

crush! - bucky barnes

summary: bucky has a crush on the new receptionist.

cw: smut!!! bucky being an absolute flirt. storage room and very risky sex 🫣 degradation. fingering. p in v. a bit of exhibitionism kink and a teeny tiny bit of controlling!bucky if you look hard enough. minors dni

dc to @jamesb444 the cutest ever

yelena had practically shoved bucky out of the training room with a roll of her eyes as she tossed a "go bother your receptionist crush, barnes. you've been staring at her all week."

john had whistled low under his breath, and bob had muttered something about "finally admitting the crush, huh?" just loud enough for him to hear.

he'd just scowled as he walked away—but the second he rounded the corner, his steps quickened.

you're at your desk, fingers flying across the keyboard as you type away at some report.

and when the elevator dings softly, you don't even look up. his shadow falls over your keyboard, darkening the letters beneath your fingers.

"you're blocking my light, barnes," you say, your voice flat, but there's something in the way your lips twitch into a smile that gives you away.

"mm. tragic." he leans down, bracing his hands on the desk. he's close enough that you can smell the cologne and body wash you picked out for him last time you went shopping together. it was something so distinctly him.

"you busy?" he asks, his voice low and rough like he's been yelling commands at trainees all morning.

"always." you finally look up, meeting his gaze. "why? you need something?"

"no," he drawls, fingers tapping an idle rhythm against your desk. "you got a boyfriend, pretty girl?"

you laugh, not looking up from your screen. "why? you applying for the position?"

"just wondering if i should be jealous," he murmurs, leaning closer, close enough that you look up and he can see the loose strands of hair framing your face. "guy'd have to be pretty stupid to let you out of his sight."

"mm. lucky for you, he is pretty stupid." you finally meet his eyes, leaning over just enough that he can see the way your shirt dips at the collar. "shows up at my desk every day making terrible excuses to talk to me."

his lips twitch into that half-smile that drives you insane. "sounds like a real idiot. what's he like?"

"oh you know," you wave a hand, leaning back and crossing your arms. "tall, broody, too much hair. thinks he's charming."

"sounds like a catch," he deadpans, but his fingers are already moving, the cool metal of his prosthetic brushing lightly against the back of your hand, sending a shiver up your spine. "so... this weekend. you busy?"

"why?" you tilt your head. "you asking me out, mr. barnes?"

"just wondering if your imaginary boyfriend's taking you somewhere nice," he counters, his thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckles. "because if not... i know a place."

"oh yeah?" you turn your hand over, letting your fingers lace together, your skin warm against his. "what kind of place?"

"the kind with..." he pretends to think, his eyes never leaving yours, "food. drinks. maybe some dancing if you play your cards right."

"sounds suspiciously like a date," you murmur, but you're leaning in closer.

"nah," he shakes his head with a shit-eating grin, "just two coworkers who definitely aren't dating... going out to eat together. and maybe kiss a little. totally professional."

"uh huh." you squeeze his hand, your nails digging in just enough to make him groan. "and if someone from work sees us?"

"we'll tell them we're undercover," he says immediately, his free hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your jaw longer than usual. "vital mission. you know.. because international security depends on us holding hands in public."

you laugh, the sound making his stomach flutter with butterflies, and shake your head. "you're stupid."

"but you're still coming to dinner," he says, confident, his thumb brushing over your pulse point.

"says who?"

"me." he leans in, pointing his index finger to his chest, "and before you argue—yes, i am absolutely using the fact that you like me to get my way."

you look up at him. your grip tightens around his fingers, before sighing dramatically. "fine. but only because you asked so prettily."

"knew you'd say yes," he murmurs, straightening up with a smug grin. "so... storage room? five minutes?"

you give him a look and an arched eyebrow, but you're already standing up, your chair rolling back as you round the desk.

the storage room is cramped. you find this out the hard way.

it smells like old paper and antiseptic, the only light a flickering bulb that casts uneven gold across his face as he crowds you against the door.

when you grab his shirt, and yank him closer. his mouth crashes into yours. his tongue slides against yours in a way that makes your knees weak.

you can taste the coffee he drank earlier, the one you made this morning.

his metal hand grips your thigh hard enough for you to jerk, hauling your leg up around his hip as his other hand pushes under your skirt. his fingertips skates along the damp lace of your panties underneath your skirt.

"missed you," he mumbles against your lips. his fingers hook into the fabric of your panties, dragging it aside.

"been thinkin' 'bout this all goddamn day—how wet you'd be for me, how you'd sound when i finally got my hands on you."

his fingers slide through your slick without warning, two pressing in deep on the first thrust. the initial stretch burns just enough to make you moan.

"oh fuck—"

"that's it," he murmurs, watching your face as his fingers curl, dragging against that spot inside you that makes your vision go white.

"you'll take it anywhere, won't you? my pretty little slut. you'd spread out you on that desk in the lobby, huh? press you against a wall and fuck you—doesn't matter where, even at work, long as you get what you need." his thumb circles your clit, rough and perfect.

you choke on a moan, your nails dig into the fabric of his shirt. "bucky, please-"

"could lose your job, you know," he breathes against your ear, his lips scraping the sensitive skin there as his fingers fuck into you harder and faster.

the wet sound of it is obscene, and you're convinced anyone could hear you as they walk past the door.

"val could walk in any minute. hear what a desperate little whore you are and how you beg for it." he chuckles, looking at you as he teases you with his words.

you whimper. your hips jerks against his hand ans your back arches off the door. the thought and the risk sends another wave of pleasure through you.

"you like that?" he asks. his voice is filled with amusement as he watches you. "like the idea of someone hearing us? finding out what a slut you really are?"

his fingers twist, scissoring just enough to make you moan out and grip his shoulders harder, panting. your orgasm is building up tightly in your stomach.

"gonna come for me, princess?" he murmurs, his lips brushing yours. "gonna let everyone hear how good i make you feel?"

you shatter with a moan. bucky's other hand covers your mouth as your body clamps down around his fingers as he works you through it, moans muffled against his palm.

"that's it," he praises as he slows his movements, drawing out every last shudder. "so perfect for me. always so fucking perfect."

when he finally pulls his fingers free, they're glistening, and he doesn't hesitate to bring them to his mouth, his tongue swiping over his fingers with a filthy groan.

"fuck, sweetheart. you taste even better than this morning."

you barely have time to process anything at all as his metal hand reaches against the small of your back. he turns you around, your chest pressing harder into the cool concrete wall.

he notices—of course he does—his breath turns into a dark chuckle against your neck.

"always so damn responsive, princess," he murmurs. his other hand hikes your skirt up higher, the fabric crumples at your waist as his fingers trace the curve of your ass, making you gasp and arch further.

he tuts, clicking his tongue, "should've worn the black ones like i told you." his lips grazes your ear, just as his belt buckle clinks. the sound is obscenely loud in your ears. "this flimsy shit was never gonna survive the day."

you bite your lip to silence yourself when his palm connects with your bare skin, the sharp sting blooms into pleasure as he soothes the spot with slow, deliberate circles.

his touch is maddening, alternating between punishment and pleasure, and you squirm against him. "always testing me," he rumbles. his zipper lowers with agonizing slowness, the sound makes your cunt clench around nothing.

"tryna see how far you can push before i lose control and just fuck you, huh?" his metal fingers dig into your hip, holding you in place as he nudges your legs apart with his knee.

"gimme five more minutes and i'll fuckin' show you," he asks—demands of you.

when he finally pushes in, you feel that familiar stretch and your head drops against the wall. his forehead is on your shoulder as he buries himself to the hilt with one thrust.

"fuck," he hisses. "always so goddamn tight for me." his hands bracket your hips, holding you steady as he sets a punishing rhythm, fucking you against the wall. each thrust knocks a breathless moan from your lips.

you try to muffle it, but he’s relentless, dragging his body against yours.

"quiet, sweetheart," he warns. "whole damn building's gonna know what we're doing in here." his metal hand slides up your body, squeezing your tits before he clamps it over your mouth as you whimper.

he chuckles, the vibration rumbling through you. "that’s it. take it like you’re not fuckin' dying for it." his hips snap forward, harder, deeper, and you choke back a moan against his palm. "like you didn’t beg for this with every look you gave me today."

the file shelves rattle with each movement. beyond the door, you can hear a phone ringing, the tone is a distant reminder of the outside world and how exposed you truly are. it feels like the world narrows down to the friction building between you.

"gonna come," you pant against his hand. you could feel your thighs shaking, as his other hand keeps your hips steady against the wall.

"i know," he breathes, his voice wrecked. "i can feel it." his thrusts grow uneven, his control fraying. "let go. wanna feel you fall apart."

when the orgasm hits, it crashes over your whole body. your knees buckle as bucky holds you upright with an arm around your waist.

his grip on you is strong and keeps you from collapsing as pleasure takes over your boxy. "knew you'd fall apart for me," he murmurs against your skin, his own release following with a groan. he buries it inside you, his breath hot against your shoulder. "you always do." he mumbles.

the distant ding of the elevator nearby brings you both back to reality.

bucky pulls away with obvious reluctance while he listens for approaching footsteps. "time's up," he says. his hands are still roaming over your body, like he can’t bear to let go. "but we're finishing this tonight."

he adjusts your skirt before spinning you around to capture your lips in a rough, needy kiss. "we gotta go before someone notices what we've been up to."

as you straighten your clothes with trembling fingers, as bucky does the same to himself with that infuriating smirk plastered all over his face, looking far too pleased with himself. "oh, and sweetheart?" he adds. "next time? wear the black lace."

you huff, smoothing down your hair. "or what?"

"or i’ll ruin every pair you own," he murmurs, fingers tracing your panties through your skirt. "starting with these."

[staley83]

The Neighbor - Masterlist

Bucky Barnes falls in love with his gorgeously funny next-door neighbor- a single mom to the most adorable four-year-old he's ever met. Meanwhile the Thunderbolts are trying to figure out who has Bucky Barnes so wrapped up.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 3.5

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Bad Day

I'm kind of new to tumblr again (I was off here for like 10 years) so my old ass is being reintroduced to this. Hope I did it right. If anyone wants to be added, pls let me know :).

Tag List:

@mysoulbelongstobuckybarnes, @imrandomstuffsblog, @delectablyvaliantmentality, @mistalli, @iminyourceiling, @vicmc624

[staley83]

I Wanna Take You There

18+, minors dni

During a hot and heavy makeout session Bucky finds out you've never had an orgasm. He's dead set on changing that🫶🏻

not me posting about being in a funk then immediately thinking of this😭i feel like it's not great but i hope you all enjoy

Bucky knew just how to drive you crazy.

Whether it was with his smart mouth and comments or his kisses or how his hands explored the curves of your waist, he could have you blushing in a moments time.

You had been dating for about a month now. You couldn't ask for a better boyfriend. He was a perfect gentleman, leaving his hoodies on your bed to wear when it was cold and preparing your jasmine tea for you when you're curled up by the window reading a book.

He also knew how to drive you wild with just a kiss.

"Your lips are like heaven, doll," he muttered from where he supported himself above you, both of your lips slick and plump from the heated exchange.

He was supporting himself up above you with your thighs, clad in only the sleep shorts you wore while sleeping over in his room the night before, were framing his hips. All he wore was a pair of sweats that rested low on his waist, his torso bare.

You grinned against him.

"And you're an angel," you told him before kissing him again, your hands resting on his stubbled cheeks.

You could feel his chest pressing against yours, the only barrier being one of his large shirts that you had slept in. Your bra had been thrown onto his lounge chair when you went to her the night before. The heat of his broad chest pressed to your breasts through the shirt, stimulating your nipples.

He let out a rough sound at the feeling of the peaked buds, his vibranium arm moving to slide his hand to the mound of your breast, cupping it through the fabric, the cold causing you to gasp.

He had never been more grateful that the arm was made with sensors that could feel you, the warmth of your breast and the way your nipple was pebbled against his palm.

"Bucky!" you gasped out against his lips, your hand coming to cover his. He pulled back a bit to look in your eyes, searching for any hesitation or fear.

All he saw was desire bleeding through the warmth of your gaze.

His thumb and forefinger enclosed around your nipple and he switched between pinching it and rolling it between his fingers.

You mewled beneath him, pushing yourself up into his hand for more.

Bucky's lips met yours again, wasting no time in meeting you with his tongue. You reciprocated easily, tongues brushing and breaths panting as he continued to tease you.

"More.." you whispered to him, hand coming down to tug your top up but he stopped you before you could remove it completely.

"Keep it on, doll. I wanna wreck you while you wear my shirt. You look so fucking good."

You let the bunched up shirt rest just above your breasts, your bare tits presented to him.

You were nervous. This was the furthest the both of you had gone. But you wanted it, knowing he would take care of you.

"I want you, Buck." you mumbled, cheeks red as you maintained eye contact.

Bucky froze for a moment before raising up on his knees look to over your body, spread out and waiting.

He took a shaky breath, his warm flesh hand coming to rest on your hip, thumb tracing the waistband of your shorts, "Are you sure?"

You wasted no time in assuring him, nodding quickly as you gazed at him, "I'm sure. I want you."

Bucky's jaw clenched and he wasted no time in bringing his other hand to your waistband to join the first one.

"Can I take these off?"

You nodded, lifting your hips and helping him shimmy the fabric down your thighs before he pulled them off, tossing them towards the chair your bra rested on. Neither of you cared to look and see if they landed on the chair or the floor.

You stared up at him, eyes wide and dark with want, tits out below his pushed up shirt and your gray panties on display. There was a distinct wet patch on the crotch of them and Bucky groaned at the sight.

"What do you want, doll? Tell me what you like? What makes you come?" he pled, hands coming to rest on your spread thighs as his eyes roamed.

And there it was.

You gulped down your hesitation, biting your lip. You wished you'd told him before things got crazy, but it was too late now.

"I..I don't know," you muttered and his face twisted a bit in confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked and you couldn't help but cover your face with your hands to hide your embarrassment.

"I mean I've never come before, Bucky. I've never had an orgasm." you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide away but there was no doing that when the large man between your legs pulled your hands away.

"Baby, are you a vir-?" "No! God, no," you whined and you didn't think anything could top this, "I just never had sex with anyone who..put in the effort, you know? It was mostly just in, out and done."

Bucky was quiet, still as he watched you for a moment.

"Not even by fingering you? Eating you out?" he asked, hands rubbing your legs reassuringly.

"Not by fingering. It was never really good enough to get me there. And nobody's ever done..the second thing." you admitted.

And that was just blasphemy to him.

"Nobody's ever gone down on you? Never tasted you?" he asked as if it was a sin. And to him, it was.

You shook your head, figuring you were already in this deep. May as well get all of the embarrassing shit out of the way now.

"I've only dated two other guys before you and neither of them wanted to. Said it was gross," you said, voice quiet.

A low growl like sound rumbled in Bucky's chest.

"Darling, I can assure you it isn't gross."

He leaned back down from where he kneeled between your legs to kiss you, and you didn't hesitate in kissing him back.

"Can I do it? I wanna go down on you, doll. Wanna eat this pretty pussy until you're a mess for me," he asked, and you swallowed down your nerves before nodding.

It was like cutting loose a thread holding him back. His hands immediately went to your panties and never even gave you a chance to help get them off, ripping them to shreds. He was ravenous now, eager to show you just how badly he wanted you.

"Bucky, those were new!" you yelped as you became bare beneath him, trying to close your legs just enough to hide your wet cunt.

"Don't care. I'll buy you some in every color if you want," he huffed before shuffling down the bed. His hands came to your thighs to hold them open, not wanting you to hide away from them.

He looked about ready to faint at the sight of your glistening folds, his usually bright blue eyes nearly black with desire.

"Fuck, look at you. You're so pretty, baby." he mumbled, sliding your legs over his shoulders. His lips met the inside of your thigh and soon he was trailing kisses up, up, up until he reached where you were soaked for him.

The shudder your body gave when his tongue made its first pass over you caused him to clamp his hands on your hips to keep you still.

"Bucky," you whimpered as he made another pass, unable to stop the jolt your body made when his tongue passed over your clit. The little bundle of nerves wasn't used to the sensation. But soon, it would be. Bucky would make sure of that.

"You taste like honey, doll. You're better than any dessert. I could live between your legs," he mumbled before moving up to press a firm kiss to your clit, sucking it between his lips after.

Your hips began to rock in time with the sucks he gave you and he allowed it but he also kept his hands on you in case you lost control.

Your fingers were tangled in his dark hair as you moved with him, the whimpers and noises you were producing made you glad the walls of the tower were soundproof.

His tongue was making rounds between your clit and your entrance, dipping inside before trailing up to make a circle around the bud and heading back down.

Bucky's face was soaked, his beard glistening and lips red with the effort. When he pushed his tongue into you, his nose would nudge your clit. He was driving you crazy.

But the best part cake when he brought his hand, the flesh one, down between your thighs to help. His vibranium arm slid to hold you down like a vice over your hips and you loved knowing that there may be bruises left behind from the metal against your hip bones. You wanted Bucky to mark you.

"Yes, please," you whined when his finger ran through some of your arousal, collecting it to soak it and make the initial push easier.

Your eyes squeezed shut with the unbearable pleasure, head tilting back. Bucky couldn't keep his eyes off you, off your stretched out body and your pretty tits with your pink nipples.

His metal hand rose, cupping the opposite breast from earlier as he ate at you, giving it the same treatment it's twin received earlier.

When Bucky's finger found the fleshy spot inside you, he began thrusting his finger into it, pummeling the pleasure into it and causing you to let punched out little breaths at the feeling.

Soon, a tingling began in your spine and your tummy began to clench, feeling as if a ball was forming.

"B-Bucky, something's happening, I-I think I'm gonna.." you tried to get out, and he gave a devious grin before he leaned in and pulled your clit back between his lips, sucking at it as his fingers continued to thrust into your sweetest spot.

The feeling rose and rose, your body straining as you were unable to handle it before finally, it was like a band snapped within you. The tingling spread over your body as a feeling of euphoria washed over you.

"O-Oh.." you let out, slumping back onto the bed. Bucky continued his sucking until you were too overstimulated to keep going, your body shaking as you tried to push him away.

He pulled back, licking your juices off his lips before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You didn't care that he tasted of your arousal as you pulled him to you, kissing him firmly.

"You taste so good, darling. Nothing compares to it," he muttered against your lips, "Those other guys were idiots. But it's better for me. I'm glad to have been the first one to give you that feeling."

You bit your lip, eyes searching his. You could feel the hard length of his cock in his sweats. The fabric was nudging your thigh where he rested between them once more.

"I want more, Bucky. I want you to fuck me," you whispered, trailing a hand down his warm torso.

His eyes widened a bit when you cupped his cock through the fabric.

"Please?" you asked, hand beginning to stroke slowly. There was a wet patch in the fabric already where he had leaked a bit of precome. Your thumb found where the wet patch was and below it was the head of his cock.

He gritted his teeth, want showing in his eyes as he leaned back, his hands coming to pull his sweats off.

You leaned up to help him, eyes wide at the sight of his length. He wasn't overly long but he was thick, with veins on each side and the tip red with need.

You looked up at him, eyes focused on his as you licked your palm, wrapping around him to stroke again.

His eyes shut for just a minute as his nostrils flared. You loved how worked up you could get him.

"I want this in me, Buck. Please? I need to feel you," you told him. And who was he to deny you?

He pushed you to lay back once more, your hand leaving him. He took himself in his grasp, moving his hand slowly along himself.

"We don't have condoms," he said and you grinned, showing him the little scar on your arm.

"Implant. We're safe," you said and he groaned, breaking through his will.

He nudged your thighs wide and rested his cock against your soaked pussy.

He used his hand to help him grind the length between the folds, getting him wet and teasing you at the same time. The head of his cock would bump your clit with each thrust and before long it had you twitching, moaning below him once more as you became more and more aroused.

He slapped the head of his cock on your hard little clit one, two, three times before you were pleading.

He slid it down to notch at your entrance and after making sure to make eye contact with you one more time, he began to push in.

You couldn't breathe, your jaw dropped as the air wooshed out of you. He was stretching you open so well, more than either of your previous boyfriends could dream of.

"God, you're so tight," he ground out through clenched teeth, "Feel so good around my cock, baby."

You couldn't help but cling to him, legs winding around his waist and arms sliding to grasp at his shoulders.

"Bucky, you're so big. Please move," you whimpered and he obliged, pulling out so just the tip of him remained before he pushed back in.

You both moaned into each other's mouths and soon, he had set a furious pace.

The room was heady with the smell of sex and all that could be heard besides the moaning was the clicking sound your arousal made as he fucked you, your juices forming a white ring around the base of him, and his balls smacking into the meat of your ass.

The bed was rocking against the wall and you could hear little cracking noises every now and then, but you weren't sure if it was the bedframe or the wall.

Oh well. that was something to figure out another time from now.

"Yes, Buck! Yes, please!" you whined, nails scratching him as he fucked into you.

"You're a good girl for me, aren't you doll? So good on my cock."

Before long you felt the ball of pleasure tightening within you again and you began to squirm below him.

"Ah, ah, ah..." you moaned out with each thrust.

Bucky's balls were right and you could tell he was holding back. You licked your own fingers to reach down and touch yourself but he smacked your hand away with a gruff "Mine!" and took your place.

Within the first few seconds of him rubbing your clit, you were done for. You cried out, quivering as you came for a second time. It was like fireworks setting off inside you and you feel euphoric.

Soon, Bucky came too, groaning out as his balls clenched, emptying himself inside you.

You hummed at the warm feeling, clenching your inner walls around him to milk for everything you could, before he finally collapsed beside you.

He pulled you to lay on him and you rested on his panting chest. You pressed a kiss just above his heart.

"You did so good, darling," he told you as you laid on him. His fingers trailed up and down, up and down and for a while time passed with you two pausing every few hours to fuck again and again.

Needless to say, you had orgasms pretty often after that.

[staley83]

Heyyy saw ur requests open!

So what if like Soldier Boy’s girlfriend is like teaching him to be slower and gentler? They’re always fucking hard and rough (which is great obviously), but she wants to take it slow every once in a while. Be a little more intimate with him. Idk I’m feelin kinda sexy fluffy smut today🥰🩷

aw i love this so much <33 thank you for the ask!!

bens hands were pushing and pulling at your hips, grinding you against the very prominent bulge in his boxers as he kissed you like his life depended on it. everything with him was always so fast and hard, like he was running out of time but he couldnt tell you why. he fucked like he meant it, sure, but sometimes you wanted to take it slow

your hands were placed on his chest, using them to push you away from his hungry lips slightly, just enough to talk to him, remind him of what you said.

"slow, baby- were not in a rush"

"yeah but im fuckin' hard as a rock so its hard to be slow" he scoffed like you wanting to go slow was a strange idea. his hands tugged at your hips again, but you tightened your body, keeping yourself still in his lap much to his dismay.

"baby- youre killin' me here" he groaned, rolling his eyes as his hands tensed on your hips.

"ben." your tone was barely scolding, but just enough for him to really listen to you. "we are going slow today, okay? youll survive without coming in the first 5 minutes, i promise."

bens head was tossed back against the pillows as you rolled your hips against him in that tortuously slow but delicious way he wasn't used to. his hands were holding onto your hips, but not to guide you or pull you- he was holding onto you like he was trying to ground himself.

"so good- doin' so good ben-" your voice was breathy, light moans spilling out of you as you rocked yourself back and forth. you didnt really know who you were reassuring, but neither of you really cared.

your hair fell over your shoulder as you leaned yourself forward, your lips meeting his in a gentle yet passionate kiss, both of your bodies connected in a way so intimate that you weren't used to but god you could be.

"christ on a cross-" ben mumbled against your lips in between kisses. one of his hands moved up, his hand cupping your face as he spoke. "fuckin' love you, baby- love this pussy too"

you nodded wordlessly, lips chasing his with a whimper as his tip kissed that spot deep inside of you, each roll of your hips bumping your clit against his pelvis. it was all so much, so perfect.

your breaths mixed as you leaned forward- not quite kissing but close enough hat your lips were barely touching. it was intimate- the way your hips rolled so slowly, the way bens hands were holding you like a lifeline, the way you were both moaning into each others mouths

bens leaned up slightly, his lips meeting your jaw, eventually working his way down to your neck. hed never known that going slow with someone could feel so good, cause no one was worth going slow for.

except for you.

[staley83]

You can't save everyone

Happy Lowman x Reader x Neron `Creeper´ Vargas | Part 2

Seeing the outside of the Mayans’ clubhouse instead of the Teller-Morrow workshop was strange. It was as strange as not recognising any of the voices you heard inside. Today was the third day since you arrived in Santo Padre, and everything felt odd yet. Nevertheless, the sensation was healing at the same time, if that made any sense at all. The creak of the door opening was the distraction you needed to take your mind off things.

“The bathroom guy”, you said as greeting.

“The bathroom chick”, he responded. “What are you doing outside?”

“I don’t want to bother you”, you replied. “You have done enough inviting me here. And offering me a beer.”

“There are just a bunch of drunks inside telling stupid stories and laughing out loud. You won’t bother anyone with your presence.”

“So, this is not a plan to know if I’m some kind of spy or something like that?”, you asked him. “I've noticed you had been following me”.

“You’re so perceptive”, he acknowledged. “We needed to be sure of your intentions. Not every day Happy leaves his Old Lady here”. 

“I’m not his Old Lady”, you answered back. “Happy is just… somebody I can trust. And I’m not interested in your club or your business at all. I was just sightseeing.”

“Yeah, we know”, he nodded. “You’ve made us ride all over the damn city.”

You laughed slightly and took a sip of your beer.

“It’s a nice place”.

“It is. Where are you staying?”

“In a shitty motel”, you said. “Everything except that place is nice.”

It was his turn to laugh, but the sound of breaking glass inside caught your attention for a few seconds. Probably, it would be just some beer or bottle.

“May I?”, he asked you, referring to the wooden bench you were sitting on.

“A biker with manners. Santo Padre continues surprising me”, you added ironically as he shook his head and sat next to you.

“I was trying to impress you.”

“I’m gonna need something more to be impressed”, you replied. “I like bathroom guy, but is there any other name?

“Creeper. You?”.

“Y/N. Is real name or club’s name?”

“Nickname”, he said. “Maybe one day you’re lucky enough to know the real one.”

“So mysterious. I’ll wait till that day.”

Without much more to add, you took another sip of your beer while Creeper made himself comfortable on the bench. Some time ago, having a conversation like that with a Mayan would have been impossible, but now that there was peace between them and the Sons, you didn’t feel threatened at all.

“Don’t you want to come back inside?”

“I’m tired”, he said.

“Are you really that old?”, you mocked.

“I mean, like, physically tired”, he rectified, rubbing his left shoulder. “It’s recent. Still hurts sometimes.”

“What was?”

“A bullet”, he simply said. You didn’t need to know more details either. “Anyway, I think I’ll call it a night. I could give you a ride to your shitty motel.”

“And once there are you gonna ask me if you can come in?”

“It’s an invitation?”, he asked back.

“You wish”, you smirked. “But I’m gonna accept your first offer.”

The motel wasn’t that far from the city centre, but the club was far from everything. Adding that it was late, you couldn’t refuse his proposition. You got on Creeper’s bike behind him, unsure of where to put your hands. Inevitably, Happy came to your mind. You didn’t have any hesitation in embrace him every time he took you for a ride, but this was different.

“I’m not gonna bit you”, Creeper told you.

“You won’t?”

“I won’t.”

You smiled again and, this time, you put your arms around his waist. Seconds later, Creeper started the engine. You liked him. He was nice and you had enjoyed your short conversation. Maybe it was because you hadn’t spoken to almost anyone for the last three days, but you were still pleased.

“You were right. This is a shitty motel”, Creeper said after stopping the bike in front of your destination.

“And it’s even worst inside.”

“Is this a second invitation? You are relentless, Y/N”.

“I think you are the only suggesting it all the time”, you replied, trying to hold back a smile. “But if you want it that bad, maybe you can come inside for a beer”.

“I don’t drink. I’m on the wagon”, he said, which actually was pretty surprising for you. All the bikers you knew were fucking alcoholics. “Maybe some coffee?”

“Do you really think I have a coffee machine in there?”

“Fine. A glass of water. It’s my last offer.”

“Done.”

The room had an old simple bed, a table with two weak chairs, a mini fridge, and a small bathroom. That was most of its furniture.

“This is full of shit. They should pay you for sleep in here.”

“Of course, keep laughing. I would love to see the palace where you live.”

“Now you are inviting yourself to my house?”, he asked, ironically. “You go too fast, Y/N.”

“Fuck you”, you said while throwing him a bottle of water from the mini fridge and then sitting in the vacant chair. “Do you mind if I drink? Or it’s uncomfortable for you?”

“I’m not used to that question. But it’s okay. I don’t mind”, he said, so you opened your beer and took a sip.

“Why did you quit drinking? If I may ask”.

“I had no self-control. And I didn’t like the person alcohol was turning me into. So, I quit”, he explained. “I still go to the meetings anyways. It helps me”.

“That’s brave”, you acknowledged. “But I know you are strong enough to stand your ground.”

“You don’t know me at all.”

“But I have great intuition”, you told him. “And maybe you have already impressed me.”

Your words made him smile. And you liked that smile Creeper somehow tried to hide. It seemed completely genuine. However, you felt like changing the subject to a less profound one.

“You always do this with the girls you wanna hook up with?”, you asked him, shameless. “You know, take them home, talk that much…”

“How are you so sure I want to fuck you?”

“Intuition. Again”.

“So, if you knew my intentions, why did you let me in?”

“I was curious about what your next move could be.”

By his gaze and his sly smile, you knew he had taken it as a challenge. You were even more sure when he stood up and positioned himself in front of you. Suddenly, he grabbed you by the forearms to put you on your feet too.

“It’s a good move?”

“It could be worst”, you replied, attempting to goad him.

Abruptly, Creeper grabbed you by the bum and put you on the table. That way he could place himself between your legs while just a few inches separated your faces. Instead of kissing you, which was what you were expecting, he chose to brush his lips against your ear.

“I've taken you home because I’m a nice guy. And I've talked that much because I've really enjoyed our conversation”, he muttered in a deeper voice than before. “But you're right, I want to fuck you. And I could do it right now, right here, but I'd break this table. And then the bed, too.”

“What are you suggesting?”, was the only thing you could say. You had to admit that this was a really good move. It was that good that you were breathless.

“Get out of here. Take you to my place.”

“I’d like that”.

“I know, babe.”

When you were on his bike this time, you put your hands around him and under his kutt, trying to feel his body over his t-shirt. You didn’t imagine the night would end like this, but you didn’t regret it either. At least not yet.

Creeper’s house was nice. And everything was tidy, something not all the MC members could say about his home. You barely exchanged a few sentences before he reached out to you. And after a few seconds, you took his hand. Now you were close enough to finally kiss each other. His lips movement was slow and sweet, so it was his touch, but it was a mutual decision to speed up. When Creeper put his hands on your bottom and lifted you off the ground, you put your legs around his waist. That way, it was quite easy for him to carry you to his dorm.

Between kisses and caresses, you took off your clothes until both of you were completely naked on the sheets.

“You were right”, you said. “You’re place is better”.

“I’m glad you accepted my offer”, he responded while slowly rubbing his dick against your entrance. You couldn’t help but bit your lower lip aware of what was going to happen. And once he was finally inside, it was impossible for you to hold back a moan.

You couldn’t say whether you preferred it rough or soft because that was bullshit. The most important thing was that it felt good. And Creeper made clear he knew what he was doing. And you were pretty sure of yourself, too.

Between the things you had learnt living among bikers, it was the fact that some of them looked like merciless criminals but were actually beautiful people, while others looked like honest men but were fucking pricks. Creeper was in the first group. He talked during sex and not only to say dirty things but to ask if you were good and how did you like it more. His hands caressed your body sweetly but firmly at the same time and he made sure that you got your orgasm too. Definitely, he was a great shag.

After a few minutes to catch your breaths, still naked and lying on the bed, Creeper offered you a cigarette.

“I’m Neron, by the way.”

“So, you wait till the after sex to confess your real name?”, you asked, ironically.

“Shut the fuck up”, he smirked. “Do you want to stay for the night?”

“I’m not used to this.”

“To fuck a guy you barely know?”

“To sleep with them after sex”, you pointed out.

“We don’t have to sleep cuddled together. And I’m not gonna make you my wife tomorrow morning”, he said. “I just think this is better than your shitty motel. But it’s your choice. Do as you want, babe.”

You didn’t want to come back to your motel room at all. But it was strange to sleep with someone that wasn’t Happy. As he hooked up with other chicks, you did it too with other guys when you felt like that. But neither of you ever slept with them. The thing was, Happy wasn’t there. And you wanted to stop thinking about him and start thinking about what you really wanted.

“Okay. I’ll stay tonight.”

*

You weren’t expecting that. When you first moved to Santo Padre to have some time for yourself, you weren’t looking for another tattooed good-looking biker with a kutt to replace Happy. And yet you were in Creeper’s place, spending another night with him.

After your first time, he gave you his phone number arguing that you might want to give him a call while you were in Santo Padre. And after a month in the town, you actually did it quite a lot. Creeper was such a nice guy and he wasn’t only available to bang, but also to have dinner, take a coffee or give you a ride. Anyway, it was with him with who you spend the time, not with his entire club. You weren’t part of the Mayans and definitely it was better not to spread the rumour that a SAMCRO’s chick was hanging out with Mayans now.

Creeper’s eyes were on you as your fingertips outlined his tattoos, but your mind was somewhere else. A chest covered in ink was familiar to you, but at the same time it was completely strange. You knew by heart every single tattoo Happy had on his body and now you were afraid of not being able to touch them again.

“These scar tattoos look so real.”

“It still surprises me how fucking funny you are”, he responded, ironically, making you smile.

“How is your shoulder?”

“Better every day”.

“I’m glad”, you said before laying your head on his chest and taking a deep breath. You felt his hand caress your bared back and you made yourself more comfortable on his bed. “Do you ever think about this life? If any of this makes sense?”

“What do you mean?”

“I came here running away from this life. It hurt to stay, but not being there hurts even more”, you confessed. “I realized I can’t stay away from it. I don’t want to stay away.”

“It’s a fuck-up life, but this kutt is the best ever happened to me. Everything I ever wanted”, Creeper said. You loved that about him. The fact that, if you gave him the opportunity, he was able to share a great amount of deep thoughts. “My brothers, they are my family, and I’d do anything for them no matter what.”

“I live, I die, I kill for my club”, you mumbled.

“What is that?”

“A tattoo.”

“Haven't seen it.”

“It's not mine. It's someone else's.”

“Your man's, right?”, he asked. “The man you love.”

“How do you know that I…?”

“I’m a good listener. And a good observer too”, he answered. “And you talk about Happy more than you think.”

Suddenly, your face was deadly serious, and a slight feeling of sadness had grown inside your chest.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”, he questioned. “I knew since almost the beginning what this was, as I knew you were good with it too. And sex had been great, but I also enjoyed our conversations. Being able to talk to someone feels good.”

“I know. It’s been good for me too.”

Despite not feeling as bad as a few moments ago, you weren’t in the mood to lay naked on Creeper’s chest anymore, so you opted for sit cross-legged while covering yourself with the sheets.

“I’m not sure what’s the matter between you two, but all men I know on this side just want to stay close to his brothers and have a good Old Lady to come back to every night.”

“Not all men”, you pointed out.

“Bullshit”, he growled. “Even those who think they don’t, they do. The hoes and the booze are great, but we all need someone who cares about us. Someone to put some light in the middle of the darkness.”

“That’s what you want?”, you asked him. And surprisingly, Creeper had no misgivings before answering.

“Hell yeah”, he said. “When the time comes. I’m in no hurry.”

You smiled at him slightly, taking your hand to his cheek and caressing it gently.

“You’ll do”, you assured him. “You are one of the good ones, Neron.”

Creeper smirked and enjoyed your sweet attention for a few moments more before changing the topic again.

“So? What are you gonna do?”

You thought the answer carefully. Deep in your heart you knew what the correct decision was, and most important, you knew what you really wanted to do. The time for reflection was over, and the moment to face the truth and make decisions had arrived.

“I may go home”, you said. “I need to solve it, whatever the end.”

←Part 1 // Part 3 →

[staley83]

Manny Mini Series

“I can't thank you enough for coming” your cousin greets you as you walk into the club house

“Yeah yeah!” you say taking off your coat “it's already packed” this year was Santo Padres year to host the new years celebration meaning all the Mayans MC Charters were going to convene at Santo Padre

Hotels were booked no vacancies. Homes filled to the brim. No bed or couch would be vacant for the next 2-3 days. 

“This isn't even 1/3 many more are gonna be here” 

You groan 

“Here we got lots of prep” She says handing you a case of beer 

“Are we doing any mixed drinks?” You ask following her 

“Hell no the most they getting is soda, liquor, beer, and water they want something special” she places her own case of beer down “they can do that on their own”

“Okayyyyy” 

Hours pass and the club house was beyond anything you could imagine  

“AYYYYEEEE HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!” they scream when the clock turns to 12:00. Followed by the Mayans MC club song. 

“Shit we need more beer!” 

“I got it!” you say walking to the back of the building and seeing a huge stack of beer cases

“Oh my god” you say to yourself. You look around the prospects were supposed to keeping watch and helping they had been anyway for the past few hours 

“Need some help?”  you hear behind you 

“Oh shit scared me” you turn to face the Mayan the first thing you notice is his Mayans tattoo across his neck

“My bad querida here let me help”

You smile and let him grab a few cases while you took one “Thanks” you express as he places the cases by the bar

“No problem, let me get a cold one yea?” 

“Sure” you reach deep down underneath the pile of clothes “here you go” 

“Thanks” he smiles 

“Welcome” 

“I'm Manny by the way” 

“Yup” you say walking away from him you were busy the bar was full with drunk men. You remember your cousin's “you're gonna see a lot of fine men, men with muscles, and straight teeth, beautiful smiles, swagger that is out of this world. Do not. I repeat do not fall for it or them. Trust me you don't wanna wake up years from now 2 babies at the hip. Arguing with some machismo guy about why he didn't pick up your phone”

Hours pass by and the celebration is over the sun is peeking  over the horizon. 

“Finally its over!” 

“Yes!” you agree cleaning the remaining bottles around the bar 

“Hey what's up mamita?” You hear from behind you 

“Let me help you with that” he says grabbing at your waist 

“Dont fuckikg touch me cabron!” 

He throws his hands up “Ay! Cálmate Pendejo!” 

Out of nowhere he is pushed back roughly “Fuck is wrong with you take a walk” 

You smile at him “thanks” you remember that tattoo

“Let me get that for you” he says grabbing the full trashbag 

“Thank you”

“Okay that's it yeah?” 

“Yeah you say looking around” 

“Alright we are gonna go. Coco!”

He turns to face her and smiles “We out!

See you at home!”

“Bye”you say to the familiar  face