#Bucky Barnes x inclusive reader

[flightlessangelwings]

Being inclusive with your reader insert fic is a kindness. It tells people of color (poc) that you are considering someone who does not look like you in your fic. It shows love and dedication to our craft. It tells poc that they belong here too and they can see themselves in your story.

Poc aren’t look for activism in fic, we know fandom isn’t that serious, but we should be able to have that same level of escapism when we turn to fic and fandom. We belong here too. This space is for everyone, not just one group of people.

Just to give a few examples of how simple it can be: say “skin warmed” instead of blushed, say “cradled your head” instead of running fingers through hair, say “angles yourself to kiss” instead of standing on tiptoes, use italics to indicate Spanish to take out a throwaway line of “you didn’t understand Spanish” things like that. Small changes that do not impact the fic at all but make a world of difference in inclusivity!

And for anything you can’t/don’t want to change, simply add warning in the beginning. Things like hair descriptors, anything reader might wear, some backstory for reader (especially involving family or where the story is set), readers job, things like that. A lot of times just having that heads up before the fic makes a world of difference!

And one example of kindness we as writers always worked to change: until recently (just a couple years ago) it wasn’t common to label the gender of the reader. But those who aren’t female asked writers to label it so they know which to read and which to avoid, and now it’s common to label the gender/pronouns of the reader. So it is possible! It just takes effort! And I’m a writer myself so I know it can be done!

We can pretend to be a bartender or a bounty hunter or an actress or anything else. But we shouldn’t have to imagine we’re a white one.

[bubblingbowie]

i just gotta say if you make a fic and put a pic reference for hair and it’s JUST blonde hair on a white women, just don’t put that in??? stop assuming the only people that will be consuming your works are white thin women who look like models. this was just on my mind.

[fluffysucker]

Miss Americana & The heartbreak Prince

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)

In no world were you meant to be together, but in every universe, you were meant for each other.

A/N: I present you grumpy sunshine wrapped in enemies(ish) to lovers with Beefy Boxer/Biker Bucky.

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated.

Also, I tried to be as inclusive as possible. But my delusion couldn't be controlled I'm sorry.

Ngl this is for me more than anything.

Also, I'm thinking about making this its own universe and maybe write more of it. Tell me what you think

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You hated Bucky Barnes, and he hated you.

The two of you should have never crossed paths. Your worlds should have never met. But the wall separating you could only hold for so long.

The infamous boxer was a phenomenon in his field. Unbeatable and astute, Bucky Barnes held his reputation with pride. He was stronger than all and the smartest the game had. His jab was as numbing as the winter. His techniques were as calculated as a soldier's. Bucky Barnes was as hard as nails. A legend.

To keep up with the notoriety, it was rumoured that Barnes and his team were also a biker gang. It was never confirmed, but the black leather jacket he always had on, the long hair touching his shoulder or tidied in a low bun, the motorbike barked in front of the gym, and the intimidating sense lingering around him. It was never denied, either.

In the mornings, Bucky Barnes ran a successful gym with his two bestfriends, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. Both played occasionally, but only Bucky was the professional, so they were more his trainers. They also trained other players and armatures. They tried to gain other normal customers, but it didn't always work. With a reputation like theirs, attracting customers wasn't easy.

It was usually the same for nights, unless they had matches. Most of their fights were held on Stark's property. He ran an empire, and boxing was the dominant centre, led by the biggest champion. And Stark lets Bucky have it his way, just like he likes. As long as Bucky keeps on bringing these huge numbers into their pockets, both are happy and content.

So it was out of the nature for Bucky to have zero interest in the new restaurant that opened up right next door to the gym. They had their regularly frequented places. The bar run by Romanoff and Belova, a couple of blocks away from Stark's property, was more than enough. He didn't even bother to throw a glance at it. Even after he knew that the owner had come by and given out menus and promised them discounts if they stopped by, there was still nothing.

Until one night. Bucky got carried away in training. He had an important match coming up. He knew his opponent barely stood a chance, but Bucky enjoyed the thriller of the game. The sweat and blood that go into it He didn't remember a time when he didn't want to do this. It was like it was programmed so deeply in his brain. He was made for this.

Everyone left, one by one. Until then, it was only him. After so many hours, he finally got tired. He threw his gloves aside and went to take a shower to remove the evidence of his hard work before going back home. As he was locking the gym's door, he heard his stomach growl, reminding him that he needed food. He was starving. Before deciding to wait and order food once he got home, the big sign caught his eye. They did indeed have a restaurant right next door. He admitted he was too tired to cook or wait for delivery. He needed food, then crashed into his bed. So maybe the closest restaurant would be useful.

Once he stepped in, he felt out of place immediately. His dark clothes and huge frame made him look like a stranger compared to the light-coloured painted walls. Some had flowers, and others had stars drawn on them. There were fairy lights in some corners. The aromatic scent was everywhere. Bucky almost winced at how bright and colourful everything felt. This was an alternative universe that he didn't belong in.

"Hi, how can I help you?" An even sweeter voice rang and caught Bucky's attention, breaking him from his trance of observing the place.

He turned around to find the prettiest girl he had ever seen standing behind the counter. Your beauty caught him off guard. He never believed someone could be so beautiful before. But here you were, standing. Taking his breath away.

He recovered very quickly and moved to stand in front of the counter. With the most loving smile, you handed him the menu. He took a look at the menu and wanted to laugh out loud. Dish names were just as cheerful as the atmosphere.

Out of habit, you started explaining and recommending stuff for him. He interrupted you, putting in his order. You didn't give it much thought but took his order happily.

You apologised for the lack of waiters, as it was almost closing time and it was only you. No answer. With his blank stare, you told him he could sit wherever he wanted. Only then did he notice the empty restaurant. It was just you and him. It was that late. So he took a seat at the nearest table.

Not taking much, you returned with his order. You placed it in front of him with a big smile on your face. You knew right away who that was the minute he walked in. James Barnes. The famous boxer who trains next door You have been praying after your small visit to them that they would be regular customers. The business was doing great. But the more, the merer. Always. Lots of people warned you about the men next door. But you didn't feel like they were as bad as people made them out to be. You were always so trusting, unless shown otherwise. So you were happy that, finally, one of them stopped by.

You moved away, letting him enjoy his food. Unable to fight your nature, you started talking to him as you continued cleaning the remaining parts of the place. No answer again. He didn't even bother to look at you. Okay. Maybe he had a rough day. Not all people are used to chatting.

Bucky was one of these people. His eyes widened as you started talking to him. People were never that friendly to him. People avoided him. Nobody tried to open up a conversation with him. He didn't know how to react. And he was too tired to try. So he practiced his other specialty. Silence. But even if he wouldn't admit it, Bucky found your voice calming. So he let you talk instead of just shutting you up.

You reduced your talking to a minimum. Only little remarks there and then to avoid complete silence. The second time, you heard his voice since he walked in and asked for the check. You brought the paper to the table he occupied, keeping your smile up and telling him that he got the 'neighbour discount' as you called it. You almost heard his scoff as you left him.

You had your back to the door, so you only turned around when you heard the door close. You didn't hear his footsteps, and most definitely, you didn't hear his goodbye, goodnight, or even thank you. Now that's rude.

You returned to the table to collect the check. But you found the review note you attached to every check empty. Not a single penmark. And that was more rude. You made sure that filling out the note only took seconds. You genuinely cared to hear people's opinions so you could be better and have the restaurant grow more.

So he didn't speak to you for more than two sentences. Didn't say thank you or goodbye. Didn't fill in the note. Okay, maybe you didn't want them as customers if they were all that rude.

It turns out they weren't that rude. However, Bucky was more rude than you thought.

A couple of days after Bucky's visit, you were surprised to see Bucky with another two men. You guessed they were Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. The trio was all well-known. You doubted if Bucky was the one to recommend the restaurant. You weren't sure if he even liked the food. And you were right. He would be caught dead if he brought up the fairy world you called a restaurant. Even when it served the tastiest food he had ever had,

It was a slow day. No intense training or excessive fight preparation The three men didn't have much to do that day. So when Steve suggested trying out the restaurant, Bucky neither objected nor showed excitement.

So when they walked in, you couldn't help the feeling of surprise along with the tiny bit of happiness, hoping it would be a nicer visit this time. After preparing their orders and sending them out, you waited for a bit before you left the kitchen to greet them. Not before making sure you looked presentable.

With the small space and their loud voices, it wasn't hard to locate them. You approached them with a big smile and positive attitude.

"I wanted to make sure you were having a good time." You followed up after introducing yourself.

"The food is amazing. This burger is to die for." Steve was the first to compliment you, with Sam nodding and agreeing.

"You have one good chef." Sam added as he took another french fry into his mouth. "Send my regards to them."

"Actually, I'm also the chef." The statement caused a shocked expression to fill in their faces. They asked for details, and you briefly told them how you were the core of the small business as the owner and main chef.

The two men were polite, and they didn't seem annoyed by your chatty personality. In fact, they interacted with you and asked questions to learn more. And all they had to say were nice compliments. Except one.

"So tell me, sweetheart, what was the inspiration for the place? Was it a fairy garden or Disney's latest cartoon?" None of you were ready for the sarcastic comment Bucky threw at you.

You didn't let your smile break in the face of his sarcasm. Nor did you give much thought to the pet name. You put on a bigger smile now, looking at him.

"A bit of both." That's one thing about you: you refused to let the world change about you. You never reciprocate rudeness with rudeness.

"I can tell." Bucky was taken back by your response. He expected you to get offended, but you didn't.

"Thank you. It was my vision all along." You replied, your smile never leaving your face.

And that started your hate relationship with Bucky Barnes.

After that day, the men became regular customers. And it wasn't just the three men. Little by little, it was most of the team. First, it was just to try the good food. Then it was because they wanted to. They wouldn't admit it, but your place was like a breath of fresh air. Something so different from what they are used to. From what they are known for. From what people expected from them. And you never judged them, treated them differently, or asked about the rumours that followed them. So it was a calm change, but much needed.

But their favourite thing was yours and Bucky's constant bickering. Or more Bucky's. Nobody understood why Bucky was doing this. You never partook in his constant attempts to make fun of you. You always had a sweet response to fire back. You truly were the living embodiment of killing them with kindness.

However, he never stopped. Every time he stepped foot in the place, you claimed it was your biggest achievement. He had something rude to say. Something to annoy you with. Something to bother you. Sarcasm and jokes spilling out of him with no end whatsoever.

The number of times you wanted to punch him or snap at him right back was increasing. But you refused to give in. To let him win. He wouldn't be the one to change you. So you kept engaging with him only with gracious things to say.

Besides, you chose to think that everyone had their own battles and demons. And for sure, Bucky looked like he had lots of them. He looked rougher than most. His job made him appear invincible, but he wasn't. Nobody was. So he may drive you mad, but he deserves the gentle treatment you offered all.

Bucky had no idea why he was doing it. Why every time he saw you, he felt the urge to tease you. It wasn't like him. But he didn't fight it back.

"How are you, Tinkerbell?"

"You should buy green carpets. It will finish off the garden aesthetic."

"Here is the princess who got lost."

"The pasta was great, Barbie."

Stuff like this flew from him all the time. And not once did you get back at him. You stayed nice and polite. Your sweet self never crumbling.

There was something in you that drove him insane. Your warm eyes. Your bright smile. Your cheerful voice. Your positive mindset. Your kind heart. Your friendly nature. Your hard work. Your delicious food. Your colourful wardrobe of dresses, skirts, tops, and cardigans. He couldn't pinpoint what it was. Maybe it was all of it.

The deepest part of him knew why he was doing this. He liked you. He liked you so much. From the moment he entered your restaurant alone, the first time And the more he knew you, the more he liked you. You were special. And you were everything he wasn't. He thought if he got closer, he would be tinting you. He would bring darkness to your shine. A moral thing preventing him from speaking his truth. even thinking about it.

So he acted like a teenager. He made fun of you. In hopes of making you hate him. He convinced himself and the others that he didn't like your sunshine personality.

Until one day

It started off like any normal day. Bucky had a match coming up. So they all had something to do. The day was going fine. Up before Peter Parker, who was usually on reception duties, ran in and said there was fire in your place,

For a second, blood ran cold in Bucky's body. He heard ringing in his ears. Were you okay? He collected himself quickly, wanting to check for himself.

He threw the gloves away, almost pushing everybody out of the way to get out. And he was the first to see the chaos in the street. A firetruck was parked, and firemen were going in and out of your restaurant along with some policemen. His eyes were searching for you frantically until he spotted you.

You had some dust on your face and your white clothes. You were checking that everyone was okay and out safely. But you couldn't hide the quivering of your lips or your shaking body.

He couldn't help himself as he ran towards you. You turned as you felt someone approaching you. Without your control, your face softened, and tears blurred your sight once you noticed who it was.

"Bucky." You whispered as a way to ground yourself from all the mess that happened and is still happening.

Following his first instincts, Bucky pulled you into his chest, wrapping your trembling form in his arms and holding you so close to him. And the dam broke.

Sobs fled from you. Tears mixed with his sweat. Your fists gripped his white tank top. Your face hidden away in his chest.

You didn't know how it happened. You had been holding up well enough during it all. You had been managing the situation the best you could. However, when Bucky got here, your mind stopped working. Your mind gave up on you, letting your emotions hit you with full force, breaking down your bastion with no guarantee you would be caught.

But you were. You were braced by strong amrs, rubbing your back, laying small kisses on your hair, and whispering words of comfort in your ears. "I'm here. I'm right here." "You're okay. You're fine."

Your sobs ceased, but your body still shook against Bucky's. Tears remained to fall freely on your face. Bucky's hold was still firm but secure around you.

You only moved away from him when a policeman approached you, informing you that you were needed at the police station.

"I'm coming with you." Bucky's stern voice left no room for negotiation. It wasn't up to debate. He wasn't leaving you.

"I'll grab my stuff in a second." He turned to the policeman standing in front of you, making sure it was okay that he joined. And he got a nod of approval in return.

He left your side, walking towards the gym. He paid no attention to his friends standing by, who were puzzled by the encounter. And true to his words, he came back in seconds, his black leather jacket on, phone in hand, and wallet in hand.

He got to you, letting his hand wrap around your shoulder. The gesture was welcomed by you as you rested your head on his chest. Something about having Bucky spread calmness in you

At the police station, Bucky found out what really happened. It wasn't just fire. It was a robbery. A bunch of armed men attacked your restaurant, demanding money from you and all the people inside. As you are trying to handle the situation without panicking more, it was discovered that one of the customers was a cop, which sent the robbers into an unexpected turn. So they took all they could from the cash register and your own things before setting the kitchen on fire to run away without being caught.

Between talking with the insurance company, the bank, and watching security footage from your restaurants and the street, you spent the rest of the day in the station.

And Bucky didn't leave your side for a second of it.

He didn't leave you until you both got out of the cap in front of your apartment. And he didn't leave until he made sure you got inside safely.

Something about you being hurt sent Bucky into a spiral. Who was heartless enough to hurt such a sweet soul as you? To look at you and not want to give you everything? Bucky would never know. All he knew was that he never wanted to see you so afraid and shaken like today. To not see your smile lighting up your face. So he would do whatever it took to make sure you were always fine.

Which was why you found him by your building the first thing in the morning.

"You have lots of places to go today. Said I would join you."

And up until you were handed the keys to your restaurant brand new after the insurance company had finished the repairs, Bucky didn't leave you. He was always there. Helping you finish papers, going to the police station to identify the robbers, and buying new stuff for the restaurants. Everything. He was there for everything.

And you had to admit. It was lovely to have him. A helping hand you needed. Physically and emotionally. Someone to share this unfortunate journey with. And Bucky didn't bother it for a bit. And you appreciated having him.

So, it only felt right for him to be your first order after the reopening.

The truth was, you never hated Bucky, no matter how much you tried. His huge form, his steel blue eyes, his signature stare, his playful smirk. They all made you feel something. He made you feel something you couldn't quite understand. But it was a pleasant something. He annoyed you so much, but you never took it too seriously. Maybe he hated you, but you didn't.

Now, you didn't need him. You were ready to carry on with your life. He didn't know how to get back to normal. He couldn't. He couldn't pretend you didn't make his heart beat faster. You made his days better. But he was so unworthy of you. And he knew you could never look at him. Maybe you hated him, but he didn't.

He tried to get back to his life. Only training and matches. Only visiting your place with the others who quickly figured out what was happening. He needed to get you out of his mind. That lasted for two days.

When Bucky was closing the gym, he heard something coming from your restaurant. With a frown, he moved to see you still inside. He looked at his watch to check the time again. It was indeed late.

"What are you doing?" He didn't bother with greetings as he entered.

"Hi, Bucky." Your cheerful voice rang through the empty place.

"What are you doing?" He repeated his question, looking at the paper in front of you.

"I'm sending out advertisements and deal offerings to different places." You answered him with a smile.

"Sweetheart, do you know what time it's?" Bucky signed as he looked at you, looking clueless.

"C'mon, let's get you home." He moved towards you, taking the papers out of your hand and putting them down without messing them.

"But I have a lot to do." You tried to protest as he gathered your stuff and helped you out.

"It will still be here in the morning." And he was having none of it.

"I need to get the business going." You added.

"You can do that in the morning, too." Bucky led you out of the restaurant in spite of your complaining.

He took the key from your hand and handed it back to you after he closed up. You expected him to move away, but he didn't.

"How are you going to get home?" He hoped you wouldn't give him the answer he had in mind.

"It's not very far. I was going to walk." And it was it.

Do you not care about your safety, or do you think you are James Bond?

Bucky had to bite his tongue and not scold you right on the spot. He knew you were stressed about the business, so he didn't want to add more.

"Great. I was going somewhere there, too. Let me walk."

"You were?" You questioned him, not believing him, but he nodded quickly.

As a matter of fact, Bucky didn't have anywhere to go other than collapsing on his bed. But over his dead body were you going to walk back home alone in this hour

"Lead the way, princess." The return of the name, but a smile on your face. He may mean it as an insult. You didn't care. It sounded good coming from him.

And the two of you walked.

And somehow, without planning, it became a routine.

Bucky would finish at the gym and come straight to the restaurant. It didn't matter whether it was late or not. He would get in and wait till you were done with the day. Then he would walk you home. Sometimes, he would help with stuff, but most times, you would make him sit down and bring him tonnes of food you prepared just for him.

"You train so hard. Don't want to burn these muscles. Eat and rest."

You weren't stupid. You knew he had nothing to do with where you were living. Yet he still chose to go out of his way, walk you home, and wait until you got in. He was taking care of you. So you wanted to take care of him too.

It felt strange to Bucky. Nobody made sure if he was eating well enough, drinking enough water, and resting enough. Nobody ever did. Everybody treated him like he was a machine. Like he He needed nothing.

Then there you were. Feeding him with delicious food. Letting him relax. Laughing at his jokes. Your hands grazing softly. It was all foreign to him, but very welcome. And he was getting attached. He knew it. How could he not?

He had the sweetest and most loving person on the planet, showing him attention and care.

Bucky counted the minutes until he could be with you. Until he could walk you home, it would be just the two of you. You did most of the talking, telling him about your day or an interesting story you heard. He would tell you briefly about his day.

He loved listening to you. Every detail you shared with him. You were the first in his life to be carefree around him other than his family. You didn't let his stiff demeanour affect your friendly one.

The extra time he spent back to his place from yours didn't bother him in the slightest. He found it reassuring that he knew for sure you were safe at home. It was all worth it.

Every single one of Bucky's friends knew what was happening from the moment he asked to postpone a match to go somewhere with you when you're repairing the restaurant. And it became so clear when he stopped hanging out at Natasha's bar after matches, claiming he was tired. But, in truth, he only wanted to be with you. And the days he knew he couldn't turn it down, especially after a grand victory, he would be glued to his phone until you texted him that you were home. Then he may start celebrating.

Bucky almost punched Steve in the face when he brought up inviting you to one of the matches, or at least to hang out with the whole team at Natasha's bar. Bucky wanted you nowhere near this world. He couldn't imagine you watching him while he was fighting. You would never look at him again. Yes, you were kind, but in the ring, he was a beast. You didn't deserve to see how bad he could be.

That's why he never acted on his feelings for you. He knew he was falling for you. He knew from the start. But you deserved better. So much better.

Your radiant nature had no place near him.

He even tried to stop seeing you, feeling guilty for ever getting close to you. But he failed miserably. You gave him something nobody did. A light in the darkness.

So he bottled it and felt grateful that you even let him be your friend. Or whatever you were.

Before a fact came crushing. You were single.

The days following matches were usually very slow. So he left earlier than usual just to come and wait for you. As long as you wanted. He had a bandage on his forehead and a compression bandage around his hand.

Sometimes you forget what his job was. Until he shows up bruised and bandaged like this. You knew he was strong enough to handle himself. He was the best in the game. But you couldn't help the twinge of your heart at the thought of him hurt.

So you prepared extra food and drinks for him. Once it was evening, you kept your best table for him. You even brought the air freshener with the scent; he commented once that he liked it. Everything to help him relax.

You kept telling yourself you were only doing this because he liked to help everyone. But you knew it was very different. He was very different.

So when he stepped in, your big smile got bigger.

You tried to come and talk with him whenever you could, but it was a busy day. He had no problem. He enjoyed watching you work. You were so dedicated and smart. He wanted you to be the most successful chef and owner in the world.

But maybe he shouldn't have been watching. He should have paid attention to anything else. So he wouldn't have seen the man who had been flirting with you since he walked in.

It was taking everything in Bucky to not get up and throw the guy away. But he heard it. Your answer to his question "Yes, I'm single." And he was reminded of the cruelty of the world. You weren't his. He shouldn't be jealous. He shouldn't have been biting the inside of his mouth when the guy tried to touch your hand as you handed him his bill.

And he most definitely shouldn't be feeling like crying and burning down the world when the guy asked you out and left his number.

Wasn't that what he wanted? For you to have better than him. To have someone who wasn't surrounded by blood and pain. Someone who wouldn't defile your glimmer That guy looked decent enough. Maybe that was your chance to find love.

However, he wanted to tear that paper to pieces. He wanted to punch the guy for asking his girl. But you weren't his girl.

Bucky was conflicted by his emotions. He didn't know what to feel or how to think. So he did the thing he was the best at. He stayed silent.

You noticed right away the change in his mood. He wasn't the most talkative person, but this silence was different. He looked like he was somewhere else. Somewhere, that wasn't so nice.

"Are you sure that you are fine?" You asked as you came to a stop in front of your building.

You only got a nod as an answer.

"You know you can tell me anything. I'm always going to be here."

Your words finally made him look at you after you left the restaurant.

"You are?" His hesitant tone made you frown.

"Of course." You answered very quickly.

"Are you going to go out with this guy?" It was quiet; you almost missed it, but you didn't.

Bucky didn't know what happened. He promised himself he wouldn't bring it up. It had nothing to do with him. But he couldn't. It fell from him.

"Do you want me to?" Your reply was something he didn't expect at all.

You couldn't say you weren't disappointed when Bucky did nothing when the guy started flirting with you. You didn't know what you wanted him to do. But you wanted him to do something.

Instinctively, Bucky moved closer to you, standing right in front of you.

"No, I don't want to."

"Tell me why I shouldn't go out with him."

The space between the two of you was almost nonexistent. You were so close to each other. His blue eyes piercing into yours. His eyes were filled with something so warm that you couldn't quite figure it out.

Bucky didn't know how to answer your question. Why didn't he want you to go out with the guy? Well, he didn't want you to go out with any guy. So he threw caution to the wind and followed his heart.

You almost tripped, but his hands on your waist steadied you. The feeling of his lips on yours was something out of the world. His lips were a bit bruised, but they were soft. It was all so good that your mind stopped working.

Bucky was about to pull away and apologise profoundly when you didn't kiss him back. As he was about to move, your hands wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him.

The kiss was gentle, and it was filled with emotions. Loving ones. It sent electricity through your bodies. It spread warmth all over you.

Your need for oxygen made you break the kiss, hands still around each other, eyes only looking at each other.

"I thought you hated me."

"Never did. Not for a second, princess."

Bucky's lips smashed against yours once again. And it was like every piece was falling into its place. The puzzle was completed. The rainbow after the rain

You were the shining star in Bucky's dark sky. He may not deserve you, but he was going to do everything in his power to get you to shine more.

Because you were made for each other.

[achaoticeternal]

𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺

beefy!bucky barnes X teacher!reader word count: 550  (drabble) summary: christmas/holiday drabble - Bucky picks you up from school on the last day before winter break a/n: i attempted to make this little holiday drabble as gender and religion inclusive as possible. no gender, identity, or religion is specifically stated in the fic, so anyone can enjoy it! no use of y/n warnings: fluff. kids?

The final dismissal bell rings, signaling the start of winter break for kids and teachers alike. All your students were frantically packing away all of their winter art projects and homework so that they could officially spend the next week awaiting Santa Claus or at least to spend time at home with their families.

“Alright kiddos! Have a happy holidays and I’ll see everyone when we get back from winter break. Stay warm!” You waved them all out of the classroom as you picked up your own bags to lock up your classroom for the next two weeks. 

Once you picked up all your belongings, you followed after the stragglers to redirect them to the car pick up line. It was your last carline duty and at least you got to say goodbye to all your students and their parents. Even though the winter weather was nipping at your nose, the thought of a relaxing holiday break with your fiancé, Bucky, and your cat, Alpine, kept you warm. 

“Goodbye! Goodbye!” You waved to each car as they drove off onto the snowy Brooklyn street. There were only a handful of children and vehicles left, and as the kids climbed into their parent’s car, you saw a familiar black SUV pull into the pick up line.

“It looks like Prince Charming has pulled up to whisk you away from the cold,” A colleague of yours teased. You giggled as you could see him and Alpine through the windshield of your shared vehicle. 

Once Bucky had pulled up close enough, you climbed into your carriage to be whisked away as your peers waved goodbye. As you settled in your seat and removed extra winter wear, Alpine climbed comfortably into your lap to welcome you. 

“Thanks for picking me up, Buck! I know its not ideal, but I don’t trust anything when it’s snowing this hard.”

“It’s no problem, love,” He chuckled, placing his righthand on your thigh, “I don’t think that its snowed like this or has been this cold since I was a kid.”

“Well that was a hundred years ago, give or take,” You teased him.

“Y’know,” he simply responded, before moving on, “I’m surprised your face didn’t flush or that you don’t have goose bumps! It’s well below freezing!”

“Well, I’ve got a secret weapon that keeps me from freeing solid.”

Bucky turned into the driveway of your apartment complex just outside the building and parked the SUV, “And what would that secret weapon be?”

“I’ve got my love to keep me warm,” you winked at him and pressed a kiss to Alpine’s little head. You earned a meow and another warm chuckle in response.

“Get upstairs, you cheesy goof! I’ve got hot chocolate and my favorite holiday movie waiting for us.”

“Bucky, Die Hard isn’t a holiday movie - you are the only person who thinks that it is,” he rolled his eyes, and Alpine purred against the warmth of your chest, “Even the cat agrees.”

“Sure, because the cat knows so much about movies,” His nose scrunched as the two of you stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed, Bucky pressed a kiss to the temple of your head, “I’m just glad I get to have you all to myself for two weeks.”

[thevillainswhore]

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Pairing: Stalker!IT/tech!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

(snippets/mentions of Carter Bazien x F!Reader and Ending, Beginnings!Frank x F!Reader)

Summary: Bucky, the IT and technology expert of your office, has been secretly obsessed since the moment he set his sights on sensitive, naive, little you. But, your only fault is your repetitive ability to get your heartbroken by fuck boys. So, naturally, he has to do whatever it takes to make you see he’s perfect for you… right?

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Stalking, mentions of smut (p in v, male masturbation) violence, grievous bodily harm, dark elements, possessive behaviour, hacking, reader is very naive, Bucky is a hell of a warning here (will add more with the upcoming chapters) PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS - THIS IS A DARK FIC!!!

A/N: We are finally here!! 😭 incase anyone doesn’t remember, I teased this fic a longgg time ago and it makes me so happy to announce its now live 🥹 as mentioned before this is a multi part story - I’m aiming for 3 parts but it could be more with me who knows 🤣 I also changed the my moodboard bc my last one did not include inclusivity and that is the goal here 💗

So now onto my appreciations ❤️ first of all I need to thank @mickeyhenrys for helping with the fic title - she’s a genius and I’m so thankful! Next, I need to thank @sgt-seabass for the help with the IT/cyber security aspect of things - she was absolutely amazing with providing all the information I needed and I’m super grateful for it. And last and certainly not least… my beautiful @rookthorne. my god I can’t even begin to thank you for all the help you’ve given me on this. To beta’ing this fic, helping me a lot with my moodboard even when I was a pain the ass 🤣 and just supporting me in general with my crazy ideas - this fic sprouted from our brainstorming and looking back from then to where this has flourished now is amazing 💗 thank you for being the beautiful person you are and inspiring me to grow as a writer. I love you so much 🥹

Now onto the fic, please enjoy the start of this crazy, wild ride and good luck - you’re gonna need it… 👀

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

Bucky glances over at you through the window that seperates the two of you, gushing about your new date already. It took you a week, maybe two, to get over the last guy. And here you were, yet again, in the same conversation with the same co-worker, debating about which dress you were gonna wear tonight. 

Did it matter anyway? 

The same shit happens every time. You go out with a new prize idiot, get laid, wait for them to text you back (spoiler: they never do), and you sit there, crying and wondering where you went wrong. 

It was frustrating. 

You only ever go out with the conventional ‘fuck boy’. The same three-piece suits and quiffed hair that looks like it’s been cemented to their skull with product and arrogance, both in equal measure. 

When were you going to get it? You choose the wrong type of guy, every single time. And yet, you wonder why they never stick around long enough to make things official, or to settle down. 

You were gullible; so naive.

The perfect girl that Bucky has kept his sights set on from that very first day that you begun working in the same office.

That’s when you walked into my life, Angel. 

It wasn’t all that new for it to rain in New York. Heels clicked and splashed through the deep puddles of the pavement, and leather briefcases bumped against each other in the chaos of the crowds as Bucky made his way to work.

He found he didn’t so much mind the repetitive routine – his life had never been exciting. It gave him peace of mind to hear all the usual sounds and to witness the usual frenzied rush from his run down apartment all the way to his office.

 

He liked his job, truly. It’s what he’s always excelled best in and it’s what has kept him in his comfort zone. There was never no real need to talk to people as all communication or pleas for help were addressed in an email. Those who didn’t email always dragged themselves to his office and slammed their technology down on his desk, grunt or curse at him, before primly walking back out again. 

That would anger most people – the blatant disregard for his existence and the treatment similar to that of a scolded dog, but Bucky’s been there for ten years now, and over those many, many days, he had gotten used to it. 

It was a bonus, however, that nobody questioned him once on how he managed to fix every problem with their device with so little information as a curse and a demand to get it working.  

Pushing the door open, Bucky expects to be walking into a normal day at the office. Paying no notice to the hustle and bustle of his colleagues at work.

That is until he’s stopped in his tracks. 

The surprise of seeing the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on; a woman that was sunshine and everything he dreamed of personified standing in the lobby. He watched you speak to anyone that paused to say hello. 

The errant thought of such an innocent bunny smiling for all that gave her attention made his cock twitch in his pants. He wanted to give you that attention that you craved.

Never had he been so entranced by and enamoured in anyone. He thinks he could stay like this forever, almost blown over by his new found obsession that made his hands shake and the whole volume of blood in his body to rush to his rapidly swelling cock.

That obsession called and rooted for him to take the few steps and cover the distance to reach you, when he was abruptly shunted forward by another body slamming into his back. 

He spun around, ready to curse the person for being so oblivious, when he saw Brock. “Hey man, why the fuck were you just stand- Oh, I take it you’ve seen the new hire, hot isn’t she?” 

The predatory smile on Brock’s mouth physically made him recoil.  Looking Brock up and down, clear disgust in the sneer and glare of his expression, Bucky turned and stalked away towards the stairs in a bid to head to his office. 

His closest safety net, the office where he spent his days, came into view and he slammed open the door, only to fall back onto it, his breath coming in sharp pants. Wildly, he glances around him and then out of the blinds that shroud his office from onlookers. Nobody was paying attention to his moment of crisis and doubt, except, he finds you glancing over your cubicle wall. 

You send a small wave, one of which Bucky can’t believe is directed at him, and you smile broadly – a kind gesture. He can’t remember the last time someone smiled at him like that. 

Bucky hastily looks away and strides over to his desk, adjusting the sudden tent of his slacks before he turns to sit in his desk chair to start his day. 

Who the fuck is she? 

The day starts slow, each task as mundane as the last, when you finally get a chance to talk to Sasha, your favourite co-worker. “I really think he’s going to be the one this time.” You can’t stop grinning, wiggling in your seat from excitement to be going out with Frank this weekend – the party that you met him at still fresh in your mind. 

“Girl, you said that last time! With... What was his name again?” Sasha groans, her chair swivelling so she could face you fully. You stare at her with a furrow in your brow while she stumbles to remember the name. “Chad? No, I don’t think that was it… Chris?” 

“His name was Carter.” There's heartbreak evident in the way your voice turns to a solemn whisper when speaking of him, and your eyes start to water as you begin to think about how your previous date left you high and dry after your night together – only to ghost you the next morning. Your lips start to tremble at the memory. “And I thought we said we weren’t going to speak about him anymore.” 

Sasha notices your dejected expression. “Shit honey, l’m sorry. I just want you to be happy.” You nod once, wiping your cheek with your palm. “Car-” She hesitates, and then frowns. “He-who-shall-not-be-named was a rich asshole, he doesn’t deserve you and he can choke on a dick.”

The crass statement shocks you. “Sasha!” you admonish, glancing around the office for anyone milling about that may have overheard. Although you were never one to bad mouth, you couldn’t help the small giggles spilling out at her vulgar words. 

Sasha’s abrupt and scandalous nature has always been the exact opposite to your docile character, but she was the first true friend you had made in the office – always looking out for you, taking care of you, and with your doe-eyed persona, the men can’t help but desire to have a piece of you. 

It is a blessing that she always knew how to pick you back up when you were down, no matter how many times you would come to her in tears over the same problem. 

“Anyway, I promise this one is different,” you promise. The sadness that gripped you a second before fades with the humorous nature of your friend. Sasha shoots you a look. “I didn’t even match with him on Tinder! We met at that party–the one I told you about, Daphne’s?”

“I remember,” Sasha murmurs, nodding. 

The memory flashes across your mind, and you shake your head slightly. “He looked so silly with the little tiara on his head. He came up to me and we talked a little–said I looked really pretty and that we should meet up sometime,” you explain, almost imploringly – you desperately want her to understand that it was a good thing. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it–for me to get myself out there?”

Pride makes your voice strong, unwavering in it’s conviction. Stepping out of your your social circle is a huge step, and by the softening in Sasha’s gaze, she thinks so, too. 

The night you met Frank swirls in your mind, clouding it as you stare dreamily at the wall beside Sasha’s head.

The party was in full swing – loud cheers and clinking bottles and glasses filled the night air, while the pounding bass music rattled your chest. Your friend, Daphne, had left to go smoke in the corner, abandoning you to your own devices by the pool. 

Fairy lights had been strung up from pole to pole above you and you were admiring them, when Frank caught you by surprise.

“Hey doll,” he greeted, and you glanced at the six foot Prince Charming in a wool coat and tiny tiara. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone in the corner?” 

Frank had thrown you a dashing smile and you found you couldn’t maintain eye contact with his intense gaze – you swore you fell in love on the spot.

To say you were flustered would be an understatement. “M-Me?” 

Frank almost looked amused. “Well, just between me and you dollface… I don’t see anyone else nearly as pretty as you here.”  

As the night went on, Frank continued to sweep you off your feet. You genuinely had no clue how desperate you made him over your sweet little dress riding up your thighs when you fiddled with the the hem. Or when you started to feel shy and you crossed your arms to try and hide yourself – only to squeeze your tits together. It gave him the perfect image of how they would look bouncing up and down on his cock. 

The way he stared at you so sweetly, acting as the perfect gentleman made the butterflies in your stomach swoop and flutter up a storm. You had planned a date with him at the end of the night and you were beyond excited. 

Snapping out of your daydream, you focus back into the present, aware enough of your surroundings to see Sasha clicking her fingers sharply in front of your face making you blink. “Hello? There she is!” She sits back and rolls her eyes. “Jesus girl, I was calling your name for ages. Where did that cute head of yours wander off to this time?” 

“Sorry! I just got caught up in Frank again,” you sigh, dreamily. 

Sasha scoffs. “C’mon, he can’t be that cute. Show me a photo of him.”

You clap your hands and squeal, rushing to search through your bag for your phone to show her just how lucky you are to have someone as wonderful as Frank interested in you. Scrolling through the photos you’d taken that night, you finally find the one you couldn’t stop admiring; him with that silly tiara sitting atop his soft, fluffy hair that you could imagine running your hands through all day, wrapped in a snug jacket with a cigarette between his fingers and blowing out smoke the side of his perfect lips. 

His eyes fixed intently on one thing. You. 

The image sends a shiver down your spine, and before you get too carried away, you turn your screen to face Sasha. 

After a whole minute of considertory silence, she finally speaks up, her voice aweful. “Holy fucking shit, babe. I wanna lick his face.” 

Your jaw drops. “Sasha, oh my god, you can’t just say that!” Laughter threatens to bubble over and your cheeks heat in response.

“Watch me,” Sasha teases, and you both dissolve into laughing fits.

Bucky is seething. He doesn’t think his teeth could be grating together any harder; grinding to dust until his jaw clicks. While your laugh is melodic to his ears, and his heart leaps and bounds at the sound of your voice, even muted from his vantage point of his office, he saw how upset you looked when your co-worker mentioned him. 

Carter. 

Even thinking his name gets his blood boiling. But, he wills himself to calm down. To just breathe. There was no point in getting worked up over that spoiled prick anymore, he’s dealt with after what he did to you –  the very lengths Bucky had to go to get that video Carter took on his phone deleted. 

You, the not so innocent whore on your knees for someone who wasn’t him, begging for Carter’s dick down your throat until you were suffocating; saliva drooling from your chin and dripping down onto your heaving tits.

Bucky can feel his cock twitching in his trousers at the thought of you being so submissive. Pity floods him – you didn’t even realise how Carter had not only ignored your texts that morning, but he had also planned to send that precious gift you had so willingly given to him, to all of his friends and ultimately ruin your life.  Leaving it in shambles for you to pick up the debris of your professional career and sociality with so little care.

Bucky wasn’t the most pleased with you after seeing that video in the first place. It was such a foolish decision to trust and allow that sleazebag to film you. 

He took it upon himself to remove every trace of the video. After all, he was a good person, what a man should be.  

Such a good man that he paid a visit to Carter, leaving him with a few of his own gifts. A black eye, fractured skull, and a break in his right femur that may, or may not have, resulted in him taking residence in the local intensive care unit fighting for his life.

“All I want is for you to be happy. And who better to make you happy than me?” Bucky wonders quietly at his desk, the door to his office wide open so he can hear you chatting to your friend. “I would treat you so good–dote on you every hour of every day, never let you out of my sight, either.”

The next train of thought is one he will not voice aloud, but the vision of him fucking you hard and rough, just as you deserve, until you cried for more – for all of what he could give. 

“You’re better off with me,” Bucky grumbles. His lips turn down into a grimace and he glares at the cubicle wall that separated you from him. “You just don’t know it yet, bunny.”

Nevertheless, here you are, flaunting your latest boy toy off to your friend. 

The pencil he’s been tapping absentmindedly on his desk stops suddenly and small pieces of wood splinters by the second until it snaps in half,  almost capturing your attention – head whipping side to side in search of the noise until you give up and go back to your conversation. 

Pain laces through his hand when the wood scratches his palm, reddening lines etching themselves in retaliation for his daydreaming.

He’s got to be more careful with his frustrations. 

You have hardly ever looked in his direction, let alone spoken a single word to him. Why would you? Not many people did, if he is honest with himself. His shoulder-length dark hair that is always covered by the same black cap in combination with his piercing and brooding stare didn’t give off the best impression, or invite conversation. 

Bucky was not a popular man, even thinking back to his early school years. He was always considered the loner, the nerd, the creep. No sisters or brothers to grow up with; distant parents who paid no mind to him or bothered to foster and nuture his affinities. 

The lonliness of his childhood paved the way to the depths of his desperation. Intelligence was something he had an abundance of, and weaponising the skills of his cyber skills was an underutilised talent of every one of his past employs. 

It never assuades or lessens the burden of need for affection. A craving that naws like a festering wound in his barren heart, for something that could make up for the miserable nights of self reflection and doubt; wondering why he was never enough for his parents, or popular at school where the girls would fawn over him.

Something for his own; to be just his and unable to be taken from him, not by anybody. 

I’m right here, Angel. You just don’t ever see me. 

Bucky has done nothing short of pine after you from afar; stealing glances and furtive wanders to get close in any way he can. 

He knows you wouldn’t go out of your way to talk to him – you don’t run in the same circles and you are definitely not socially compatible. That doesn’t stop him from imagining how soft your skin must be, or how flawlessly your body would melt against his as he railed you into his bed. Your heavenly little cries of his name, breathless chants pleading him to “Keep going!” and “Don’t stop!” never leave his mind. They fuel his needy desires at night until he can get the real thing, whimpering your name until his voice is hoarse as he fucks his fist over and over and over – the thought that it was your hand or your pillowy lips guiding him into ecstacy pushes him to the very brink of insanity. 

The dreams will do for now, he thinks privately as he stares at you through the glass pane of his office wall, straight to your cubicle, the sound of your laughter echoing down the hall and muffled through the glass. He’s managed for the last six months since he first saw you, it’s fine. 

Impatience chips away at his resolve, though, and his fuse is shortening by the day.  No matter what it takes, no matter who you think is good for you right now, Bucky will have you, and when he does… He’s not ever letting you go.

[eekshade]

Injury

Bucky Barnes x m!reader

Word Count: 628

Warnings/Info: Reader and Bucky shower together, it's not too detailed to remain as inclusive as possible, no pronouns used but is only for nb!, m!, m!aligned, Bucky and reader share an apartment and bed, fluff, some suggestive comments, nothing happens

You and Bucky, both racked with mental and physical exhaustion, slowly walk through the door to your shared apartment after a rather lengthy mission. You let out a shaky sigh as you take off your bag and toss it onto the floor of the entrance way, Bucky smiles at your antics and wordlessly starts to move to the bedroom. You follow suit, undressing yourself as you walk.

“I call the shower.” You call out to him as you search through your closet for your favorite pajamas.

He walks up to you with a fake pout dancing on his face, he grabs you by your belt loops pulling you in, “Why can’t we share it?”

“What’s in it for me?’” You question, your voice laced with faux intrigue.

“Oh you know…” He trailed off as he leaned in to give a soft kiss.

Bucky tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss, hands moving from your belt onto your waist. He squeezes the soft flesh of your abdomen, drawing out a sharp hiss from you; he immediately lets go, concerned eyes scanning your body. “Did I hurt you?” He asks, already looking guilty.

“No no, you didn’t. I just nicked myself earlier - it's not a big deal really.” The beginning of your sentence comes out as rushed and nervous, not wanting him to start worrying about himself and his strength.

“Well if it’s causing you pain then it is a big deal.” He gently grabs your wrist, leading you to the bathroom.

Now standing on the cold tile, he takes the end of your shirt in his hands and pulls it up, you instinctively lift your arms straight up. He frowns, running his fingers around the open wound, you wince at the odd sensation making him whisper a quick apology. He turns away from you in favor of the medicine cabinet, pulling out what he needed.

“Get in the shower for me?” He smiles softly.

“Still wanna share?” You joke with a small wink.

“Not like that, at least not right now.”

You finish undressing, careful to not bend over too much. The hot water burns slightly as you step into the shower, the dull pain starts to shift into a sharp sting as the water hits it. You stand in the shower for around a minute while getting used to the temperature, the curtain opens and Bucky steps in behind you. Wordlessly he takes your body wash, squirting some onto a loofah and cleansing the past few days off of you. The calming scents of the different care products fill the air, making time feel as though it has come to a halt; you are only dragged out of this when the water abruptly shuts off, Bucky gently moves you out of the shower.

Bucky smiles at you, quickly drying you off. He takes the ointment and softly dabs it on the wound, he holds the other side of the waist with his free hand. Your body instinctively tries to get away from the pain, Bucky halts for a second, “I’m sorry doll, just a little while longer, I swear.” He waits for you to nod before he continues. He takes the bandages off the counter and applies them with confidence, you suspect it's from patching Steve up as kids but have never asked him to confirm.

“Alright, you’re all set.” He moves up to his full height, leaving a quick kiss on your forehead, “You tired?” He hands you your pajamas.

As if on cue you yawn, “God yes.”

You walk to your shared bedroom, laying down, he walks in a few seconds later. You watch him walk around to his side of the bed. “Thanks Buck.”

“Anytime doll.” He kisses your cheek before laying down completely.

| MARVEL MASTERLIST |

[softevnstan]

From the NSFW genarator

 reader handing Bucky Barnes a bowl of cream/chocolate/honey and telling them to spread them on their own body where they want it eaten by reader. Bucky Barnes eagerly complies, and everything starts (or ends) with a sloppy smear on person Bucky Barnes's lips.

pairing. bucky barnes x gender neutral!reader

summary. for valentine's day, bucky brings you a bowl of whipped cream and strawberries. with a game proposition, you very quickly come to learn you're hungry for a different type of cream.

warnings. bucky loves you with all his heart but he's also a hard dom at heart. misuse of strawberries and whipped cream, dom/sub undertones, spitting/spit, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, food play - whipped cream, facefucking, petnames (specifically 'doll' and 'sugar', but these are intended to be for any partner, not just f), fluff, pre-established relationship SMUT - minors DNI. reader's bits are not mentioned in depth here so gender is ambiguous, i like all of my stories to be as inclusive as i can make them :)

a.n. hi, nonny, i wanted this to be out on valentine's day but some things in my personal life held that up. additionally: kinda interpreted this a little bit of the way i wanted to and the way i thought i'd best enjoy writing it, so bucky is the one with the game in mind (bonus: listen to this song as your background music like i did to add to the experience) -- reader is nerdy and likes things like books and candles and reading (reader is me projecting lbr)

also winterdevil friendship briefly mentioned bc i can

w.c. 7.3k

You were only a few pages into your new book - ‘Good Omens’; You’d heard good things about the story in its witty writing and amusing tale. 

Bucky had been paying attention when you’d both gone on a bookshop date and scoured the shelves hopefully for the novel. Even when asking about the bookstore’s directory, the worker reluctantly let you know the book wasn’t in stock. You’d shrugged the loss off with a warm smile; ‘Better luck next time, right?’

Imagine your delight when Bucky brought you a red gift bag with four golden arrows decoratively laid horizontally and stacked upon one another with the words ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’. Inside the bag had even more delightful contents; Peeling past the elegant golden tissue paper, you were excited to find your very own copy of the novel you’d been unable to find in stores. Additionally was a box of chocolates and a candle scented ‘Rose & Apple’.

“Aw, Bucky,” you swooned, “I thought we said no gifts…?” “I know,” Bucky admitted, moving around the kitchen island to come to stand behind you; Arms of flesh and vibranium slowly winding around your waist to hug your body to his own, settling into a comfortable hold so naturally. “But I like seeing you smile.”

You looked fondly at the cover of the book, thumb gently brushing over the paperback cover before setting it down on the counter. You bit your lips together in an appreciative smile, and you felt Bucky’s grin against the side of your neck where he tucked away. Nose rubbing affectionately against your pulse before pressing a chaste kiss.

“...At least now you won’t feel surprised when I tell you I got you a few gifts of your own,” you reveal as you turn your head to usher Bucky’s chin up. “Oh, of course, you got me something anyways!” Bucky huffed on an amused laugh, eyes crinkled in the corners with his smile, and your heart was left to melt.

He nosed into you lovingly, nuzzling and then pressing foreheads together. You took the opportunity to drape your arms around Bucky’s shoulders in a warm embrace; the rest of your quiet valentine’s day was spent peacefully with expensive sushi ordered to your shared apartment, moving the furniture and putting his records on to sway together playfully with giggles and kisses, then wrapped up with movies in the living room and popcorn kernels in between the couch cushions from the way you’d been pelting pieces at one another. You needed no fancy dinners or dates. You both were capable of making a night-in a remarkable memory all on its own.

Though the favor you called in from Zemo wound up with gifting Bucky a signed copy of ‘The Hobbit’ signed by J.R.R. Tolkien himself, and that was pretty good at also making an evening remarkable. The absolute awe in Bucky’s eyes and the way he’d gone slack-jawed when unwrapping the book was worth the six digits that were poured into the cost. Zemo had more than enough to spend and was happily willing to pay off his debt. A book was child’s play for Baron - simple.

You'd only been a few pages into your new book; Having been eager to begin drinking in the story as soon as possible. Bucky knew you were a bookworm; it's part of what you two had so in common - Bucky knew how to appreciate a good story, too. Eagerly diving into the paperback and excitedly tearing through pages was what you did best; On Multiple occasions where Bucky and you had surprised one another with blind-book dates and annotated novels for one another, reading was perhaps a love language between the both of you.

So you’d think Bucky would’ve expected that from you as soon as that book was between your nimble fingers. Good luck with any attempts that may sway your attention or distract you as a whole; everyone should know it’s useless to try. But Bucky wasn’t everyone else. Bucky knew you and knew how to wriggle his way in between you and a good book. 

And his key tool for that this evening seemed to be a wooden food tray with a bowl of hulled strawberries and a tub of whipped cream, and then an additional can that made you raise a brow. Any skepticism was dropped in moments given the natural delight you felt with Bucky in a room. When it was just the two of you, he was the sweetest man you’d ever met. “Surprise,” Bucky beamed softly, earning an amused smile from you in the process. He moved from the archway of the kitchen to step into the living room, rounding the coffee table to take his seat beside you on the couch. 

“Strawberries? You shouldn’t have,” you hum appreciatively, picking up your bookmark to hold your page; You didn’t dog-ear your pages like some savage. 

“Strawberries and Valentine’s Day go hand in hand last I checked. Whipped cream just makes it even better.” the soldier defends, earning a playful roll of your eyes. 

“You’re makin’ me feel like a chump here, Bucky, we said no gifts and surprises,” you softly protest albeit with little sternness to your voice. Book abandoned on the side table of the couch, you leaned to reach for a piece of fruit.

“Ah ah ah,” Bucky stops you, vibranium hand coming to cover the mouth of the bowl. “This isn’t for nothin’, I wanna play a game, sweetheart…” The sultry purr to Bucky’s voice insinuates he’s up to no good. “Huh?” You pause, confused as you look between Bucky’s hand and the bowl. A game? “I should’ve known there’d be a catch. You’re a menace, James.” The words are light and teasing; No real harm behind them.

“Oh quit bein’ so dramatic,” Bucky playfully chides with a teasing pinch to your outer thigh - it makes you squeak in delight and burst into soft laughs before shooing his hand away. Bucky absolutely thrives on your smile and laugh; It drives him crazy. “I’m not dramatic, I’m melodramatic!” you titter happily. “Well, if by ‘melodramatic’ you mean ‘theatrical’,” Bucky commented with a mischievous grin as he safely set the tray on the coffee table. You took the liberty of pulling the throw pillow you’d been laying on and help it live up to its name; Hitting Bucky in the shoulder with the cushion for his ‘theatrical’ comment.

“You love me and my melodrama theatrics all the same, don’t act like you don’t.” “Alas, it’s true.” he sighs sweetly, nothing but love in his gray eyes as he says it; Smitten. The softness of it helps melt some of the banter that had been building. “...And what was this ‘game’ you were talking about, exactly, Bucky?”

Bucky’s eyes light up with arousal, wetting his lips and treating the question as though he couldn’t wait to answer. “Have you ever plaid chicken before, sunshine?” Bucky inquires, and your head shakes side to side. “Alright, I brought out whipped cream. Wherever one person smears whipped cream, the other has to lick it off. The first one to refuse - or chicken out - loses.” 

Your own gaze widens with delight at the sound of the provocative game. At least a game was something you could get behind, and it definitely had a means of spicing things up with Bucky; Not that your sex life was boring, but something new every now and again was exciting for the both of you.

“Aw,” Bucky tuts sympathetically, “I can see it on your face, poor thing. The way your eyes lit up… Sheesh, people are gonna think m’not takin’ care of my babydoll.” The heat that rises to your face is familiar and leaves your chest feeling fluttery. “You do take care of me, Bucky,” you softly utter, squeezing your thighs together. “I wanna play.” the words are airy when they leave your lips, and the voice in which you speak makes Bucky stifle a soft groan in reply.

“Knew you would, baby. Such a perfect little thing, always onboard for whatever I want to try.” Bucky hums his approval and something inside of you swoons for the praise. He even takes a moment to use his fingers and tenderly brush the stray hairs from your face; touching you nothing but gently.

“Uh huh,” you confirm with a jerky nod and a doe-eyed look as Bucky smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. He reaches for the container of whipped cream, popping the lid off. “Wait.” The thought creeps up on you.

Bucky stills briefly, eyes flickering to your face in a brief haze of concern. Pausing the act he’s been putting on for a moment to assure you’re not being genuine when you ask him to ‘wait’. You swallow around the tightness in your throat, attention solely on Bucky as you watch his studying face. Leave it to Bucky to be ready to fret over you at the drop of a dime.

“What if I win?” Bucky’s expression falls for a brief moment before twisting into disbelief and amusement. He laughs, entertained but relieved that’s where your concerns lie rather than somewhere more concerning.

“If you win, huh? Hmm,” Bucky takes a deliberate moment to hum and you shift with eager anticipation. Curious for whatever delicious thoughts may be brewing in that beautiful head of his. “Why don’t you choose — What would my babydoll want as a prize…?” the drawl of his voice nearly makes you squirm where you sit on the couch.

Your mind runs wild with ideas for half a moment before settling on something simple; “You have to go down on me, mouth only. No hands to help.” A swell of pride in your chest at the thought, you could already imagine Bucky looming over you and the warmth of his breath on your core before delving in without the aid of his hands. 

Bucky seems to like the idea as well if the devilish way he watches you is anything to go off of.

“Sounds like a deal, and if you lose, you go down on me, sunshine.” You would hardly consider that a losing game.

“Sounds like a fair match - may the best player win,” you chuckle, the words a meager attempt to take back the reigns on your confidence and not become complete mush for this man by default. Bucky had this charming way of entrancing you. He did it to everyone that got to know him, half the time Bucky didn’t even need to think about it.

“I’ll get us started,” the sergeant takes lead - setting the lid of the whipped cream container on the coffee table and using a spoon he’d brought along with him to scoop up a dollop from the container. Messily, Bucky smears a dab across his bottom lip - all too aware of what he’s doing. Bucky may look innocent, but there are devil horns holding up that halo. You wonder if that’s a reflection of his friendship with Matt.

The grin Bucky wears is devilish when he looks at you; Eyes piercing and somehow even seductive with a swipe of whipped cream on his bottom lip. A soft giggle emits from your being before leaning to pluck up a strawberry. You use the piece of fruit to swipe along Bucky’s bottom lip, successfully scooping up traces of the whipped cream before taking a bite of the strawberry. The taste is ripe and sweet, no wonder they’re occasionally considered a form of natural aphrodisiac. 

Bucky’s flesh hand finds your wrist tenderly after the first bite, causing you to arch a brow. 

“Licking, sunshine.” Bucky corrects. “Pick at strawberries all you want, but the rules of the game required you to use your mouth. Otherwise, that’s not nearly as fun, is it?”

It’s moments like those that made you feel all light and fuzzy. When Bucky talks to you as though you were a helpless and useless thing; It makes your brain fog up with cotton with the way he speaks down to you. 

“No, Bucky,” You exhale sweetly. “Good baby,” Bucky’s hand releases your wrist to lift and cup your cheek, giggling when you’re faced with the whipped cream on his lip again. Not as easy to take him so seriously. Bucky gives an amused huff at the response. “Now c’mon, before this melts and you have to lick that up, too.”

Popping the rest of your strawberry into your mouth, you finished chewing and swallowing before cupping Bucky’s jaw to steady him. Holding him in place when you lean forward into his space; being able to smell the traces of sandalwood and cinnamon on his skin made you shiver. It didn’t matter how many times you were like this with Bucky, your belly filled with butterflies every time in the best way. Tentatively you drag your tongue across his bottom lip, whipped cream sweet on your tongue.

There’s no chance to pull away when Bucky catches your lips in an immediate kiss following. Mouth slotting to yours in the opportunity that the man has, grinning against your lips like the cat that got the cream. His large palm lifted to come and cradle your cheek, the tips of his fingers brushing into your hair where it cups under your eat. Palm cooler than the average person due to the way his body ran cold, but your own warmth helped balance out the temperature difference from time to time. Your cheek felt like fire beneath this hand. 

Bucky kisses you hungrily, a searing claim when he licks hot into your mouth and makes you whimper and shiver. Your fingers still hold his bearded cheeks as Bucky takes his time tasting you; Enjoying it far more than any whipped cream he could ever buy. Bucky parts only after he’s left you breathless, wiping a thumb at his bottom lip with a low chuckle. Your head is left to spin with your heart hammering in your ears.

“Been achin’ to kiss you like that all day,” Bucky confesses. Your lips tingle, mourning the loss of Bucky pressed against your like that. “You’ve had countless chances, Bucky - we’ve been here alone all day.” You defend while lacking a legitimate malice to your tone. 

“It’s different,” you almost wave him off at the defense and make yourself busy with the whipped cream when Bucky elaborates. “I wanted to be soft with you today; I think we both deserve a little tenderness every once in a while. But sexy games give me a reason to kiss you like that.”

“Sometimes I struggle to believe that you’re the same stoic sergeant everyone quakes in front of.”

“I’m not; Not with you.” The words are raw, and it would make your heart turn to mush if you weren’t turned on by his kindness.

“You’re sexy when you’re sweet,” you coo, fingers brushing up his jaw to draw Bucky in for another quick kiss.

“And you’re sexy all the time, sunshine.” Bucky hums right back before meeting you partway for a small exchange of pecks. You both linger there for a moment, the kisses stolen not nearly as heady or heavy. Then you’re taking your turn. Parting lips and Bucky nearly chases your touch for more when you tut your tongue. A mock of his earlier tutting. “Aww,” you echo back to him, half condescending and half frisky. “I see it on your face, people are gonna think m’not taking care of my Buckybear.” though with your delivery, the words are far less menacing and end with you breaking the character to laugh, especially when Bucky is already crumbling into chuckles in front of you.

“‘Buckybear’?” Bucky parrots incredulously and entertained. “Trying out new nicknames,” you say with an innocent shrug, plucking up the spoon to get more cream on the utensil. “I think it’s cute.” “I like it,” Bucky agrees, shifting to get comfortable on the couch while his predatory gaze follows your hand. “It’s a nickname you gave me, just… Maybe let’s not let Sam hear this one.” “Does he still call you ‘Buckaboo’ sometimes?” You ask, momentarily distracted and appreciative that you and Bucky are able to break up seductive moments with cute ones. You’re convinced it’s proof you’re both truly in love to be able to be this casual and open with one another.

“Unfortunately. Torres heard Sam over the commlinks last week, both of them were dying of laughter.” Bucky deadpans, clearly not finding the situation as humorous as the boys did. You snicker with a shake of your head, assessing the spoon in your hand for a moment before setting it down in the container and abandoning it as a whole.

Instead, you pull your shirt up and over your head – stripping away the layer. The response it earns from Bucky fuels your confidence, the way he straightens up on the couch and wolf-whistles at each inch of skin you show off for him. Bucky always has a way of making you feel perfect; All your insecurities blanch when you were able to feel his comforting presence, always leaving you feeling loved and unequaled in your skin.

“Givin’ me a show, doll?” Bucky muses, a small tilt of his head while he studies you. “Why, enjoying the view?” You coo in turn, meeting Bucky with that same playful banter - this was a game after all, and games are meant to be fun. You discard the top haphazardly to the floor, no doubt to be gathered tomorrow morning. 

“Oh absolutely. Got the prettiest baby in all of New York… I’m a very lucky man.” When Bucky speaks, his voice is thick and warms your face. Bucky is very much the flatterer.

“I know you like it when I say things like that,” doesn’t even hesitate to single you out on the thought. “When I remind you of how precious you are to me, sugar… Just how much I fucking adore you.” Bucky’s voice drips with lust and devotion. Utterly in love. It almost tempts you to drop the game before it gets too far in and have him now; Peel away the remaining layers separating you two and open your legs in an invitation for Bucky to fuck you so roughly into the couch that the legs break and the neighbors know Bucky’s name loud and clear.

God, you’re fucking whipped for this man.

Sometimes you’re still not prepared for the outpour of loving words; Still, you’re trying to remember that Bucky means the things he says and isn’t merely humoring you as exes have in the past. Bucky is nothing if not genuine. 

“Keep sweet talking me, Sarge, and this game might end sooner than you want it to,” You warn with a coy smile before picking up the formerly abandoned spoon. “I’m bein’ honest,” Bucky defends, lifting his hands in a feigned and mischievous. “You know you love when I talk sweet to you, anyways, sugar.”

“You also know it makes me freeze up; I never know what to say things like that, Bucky.” a gentle reminder and your cheeks hurt from smiling - do you look stupid? Bucky would love you anyways, truth be told. 

“Oh, but that’s the best part,” Bucky replies, leaning forward on the couch and closer into your bubble of space. Taking his time letting his eyes drink in the pretty sight you make for him without your top. “It turns you into putty, baby. You start floatin’ so easy, ‘s cute - it’s worth it gettin’ you cock-drunk in the end.”

You stutter - jaw clenching and you feel the tips of your ears burn. Bucky takes more sadistic amusement in the responses he pulls out of you. Plays you like a fiddle. It embarrasses you as much as it makes your thighs tighten and a wetness forms in your underwear. He works you up for fun. It’s maddening and exhilarating and perfect.

“Buckyyy,” you whine, pitiful and with a harmless scowl. Bucky’s laugh is rich and makes your face soften almost immediately. “Well, on with it, sunshine.” Bucky nods towards the spoon clutched between your fingers.

You take the moment to regain your composure. A deep breath - Attempting to shake out Bucky’s influence and his attempts to deduce you to a ditz so soon. Then, with the cold metal of the spoon, you smear a generous streak of whipped cream from your left clavicle to the top of your left breast. 

When you lift your attention from your careful work, you find Bucky’s hungry eyes on you. Looking like a wolf preparing to strike his prey; Oh, to be littered with bites from Bucky’s mouth sounds like a dream. 

“You’re bold tonight. I can already tell this is gonna be fun,” Bucky husks, voice low before moving into your space. 

Right hand coming flush against your hip before smoothing up to frame your chest. He wedges himself between your legs, bringing your back flush with the arm of the couch as he looms over you; The semi that the soldier has been packing pressing prominently against your ass through his jeans. His vibranium hand brushes your hair out of your face, eyes studying you.

“You’re always so small under me...” Bucky hums, metal fingers brushing down your cheek as you lick some of the remaining whipped cream off the spoon; Putting on a show with the slow and deliberate lave it was the tip of his cock. 

Bucky groans, his touch hardening where he holds your chest before lowering himself to let his hot mouth lick over your collarbone. Trailing down, his tongue glides across creamy sugar while littering open-mouth kisses to your flushed skin. His beard scratches against tender flesh and you keen underneath him - Bucky subtly presses tighter against your ass so his cock can make itself well acquainted and he growls low in his chest. Hot breath fanning over your flesh.

The soldier’s hot mouth threatens to go further, tempted to explore every inch of your delicate skin and leave you covered in hickeys. Bucky practices self-restraint, but not before licking up the swipe of whipped cream and suckling a deep hickey into your skin. The purpling skin is beautiful under his skillful tongue and you moan into the air of the living room.

May the best man win.

You’d both gone back and forth. After Bucky licked the mess from your chest and tasted the sugar on his tongue from a shared kiss, he had fun spraying whipped cream on his fingers. 

Watching you have to take each digit between plump lips to suckle and lick the cream off. Beyond the sweetness of the cream, you could taste the roughness of his skin while he played with your tongue. Bucky even took the liberty of pressing his fingers to the flat of your tongue and holding your mouth open until you were drooling when there was no more cream left. When his fingers slip too far, you gag around the intrusion and Bucky grins.

He spits in your mouth to compensate for your time. You moan, thankful.

When it’s your turn again, you take the chance to shimmy your pants off next. Bucky licked his lips - watching you get undressed and not having to do a bit of the work but also being tempted with the inability to touch. Eager hands wanting nothing more to grip supple flesh and lay his claim while he takes you. With him. All good things come to those who wait.

You smeared whipped cream on your inner right thigh - dangerously close to your center and trailing towards your v-line. Bucky took his time settling between your legs. Kissed stamped to the inside of your calves, calloused hands smoothing out the outer of your thighs. Trailing upward, Bucky’s breath ever hot and the whipped cream threatens to drip. 

Bucky catches the drop with his tongue before it can find the couch, licking up the inside of your thigh. His tongue makes you tingle and your brain stops working for a moment; shuddering under his touch and your toes curl. Bucky presses a kiss over the wet patch in your tight briefs and you hide your face. Your core quivers with want. 

Bucky refuses to let you hide for long, working his way back up and gently prying your hands from your face. You share a heated kiss and sigh shakily against Bucky’s figure; Melting between him and the couch.

When it’s Bucky’s turn again, he takes a page out of your book and uses the opportunity to shed away layers. The jeans hugging his deliciously thick thighs are discarded, Bucky hiking up the plain black tee that left little to the imagination of the definition of his abdomen. It’s no mystery that Bucky was packed with muscle; Even in thick coats, you could still somehow always make out his distinct shape with rippling arms, a thick chest, and somehow a narrower waist. You’ve joked about him being a Disney princess once or twice. 

The scoundrel smears the chilled spoon over his chiseled abs and for half a moment you’re in one of those steamy romance novels your mom would read and you’d giggle at.

You lap up the trail from over the concrete muscle down to Bucky’s groin - and he sighs out shaky and delighted. Hooded and heated eyes always watching you, you, you. Nothing else exists in the world to him other than your game. You feel a swell of pride knowing you have such a catch as Bucky; his thick fingers tangled in your hair and carding through as you innocently lick up the cream with a sinful tongue. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, sunshine.” the words are drawled out lazily and hushed from Bucky’s swollen lips; He’s been chewing them and biting like crazy.

The tent in his briefs doesn’t surprise you at all - you’d be insulted if he wasn’t aroused.

Still, you’ve taken every task he’s given you like a champ. Bucky is running out of safe skin to present, and you’re in for the long haul. Winning or losing makes no difference to you. By the end of the night, it’ll be Bucky’s hands that have touched you and brought you to your climax. No one else. You’ve already won.

But that doesn’t stop you from sitting back and shivering when the cold metal touches your bare nipples. Smearing a generous amount of cream to both bare and pebbling buds. Bucky is simply excited to get his mouth on you in a way that isn’t so safe anymore. His lips close around your nipple and leave you gasping - sucking and rolling the bud against his skilled and velvety tongue. 

You’re wet; fingers holding Bucky’s head, merely along for the ride as he circles the areola with the tip of his tongue before pinching the delicate skin between his teeth and making you cry out. So sensitive. He kisses your ache better before subjecting the other nipple to the same torment; Bucky’s hot and wet mouth is heaven and your body speaks louder than your wanton moans or words ever will. You want him so unapologetically, and Bucky knows it. Prides himself on it, even.

It’s only a matter of time before you’re out of whipped cream and both of your teeth have rotted from your skull from the sugar; Something has to give otherwise the both of you could be at this all night - would that be so awful, though?

Bucky could wait you out easily. Run you out of choices until all that's left to cover with cream are the places he wants to get his tongue on the most. That's too easy; the back and forth between you two is what helps sparks fly. 

Your fun is interrupted on Bucky's turn. He's trying to swipe whipped cream on his chest when he fumbles the spoon; the dollop slides right off the flimsy metal and falls to Bucky's bare shin, trailing down to his foot. 

Both of your noses scrunch. Bucky's look of disgust is quickly replaced though by a mischievous glint, the soldier raising his leg up to balance his heel on the couch cushion. 

"Better hop to it, honey." Bucky singsongs.

You playfully swat at his thick thigh, hand wanting to linger just to feel the muscle under your palm. How easy it would be to glide up and cup his cock. 

"I'm not licking your foot, Bucky." You stifle the words only because you can't contain the giggles. 

"Rules are rules - unless that means I win…?" Bucky perks up, and ah, no wonder why he got all delighted. He sees this as his golden ticket win. 

No way he's serious. Your relationship and dynamic is very experimentational, but feet aren't on the table - sorry, Bucky. Licking one of his boots is a different story, but that's for another day where you have more time and the sweet words are replaced with filthy titles and the soldier joins you in the bedroom rather than your loving and chaste boyfriend.

“I’m not licking your foot.” You reiterate, “Pick somewhere else, for real?” “Ah ah ah, Sunshine. When we started playing we agreed.” Bucky protests and you are tempted to steal that spoon away from Bucky and swat another spoonful of whip cream at him. Instead, you pout; trying to wiggle your way. “Oh c’mon.” Bucky knows you won’t do it, the pain in the ass that he is (and you adore).

“Then I win,” Bucky declares matter-of-factly, and really, has defeat ever been such a pleasure? You shrug your shoulders to acknowledge your defeat, flashing the man across from you a bashful smile. At least you don't have whipped cream sticky on your foot - you're the real winner in that case.

“That means you, sunshine, gotta get that sweet mouth of yours on my cock.”

“Yes, Bucky,” you agree with an airy giggle. “I know what going down on someone means.”

When you go down on Bucky, he’s kind enough to give you a pillow to kneel on between his thighs. It helps recompense for the iron-grip in your hair as he guides your head up and down the steady length of his cock.

You’ve long started to adapt to the girth by now. The first time you’d attempted to go down on Bucky, the thickness of his cock had overwhelmed you. You could only take so much before nearly sputtering - and vomiting during sex isn’t sexy. It left you to have to make up for what your mouth couldn’t reach with skilled hands pumping the base of his dick and playing with his balls. 

Now you can take Bucky without gagging, and it’s worth it to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head when you suck his cock. You’re his pretty cock-sleeve and Bucky has no problem letting you know it:

“Yeah, that’s it… Such a slutty fuckin’ mouth, droolin’ all over me, baby.” His fingers fist your hair at the root, every pull a delicious sting as he guides your head up and down his cock. The corners of your lips stretching around the intrusion, eyes watering and everytime you moan at the way he fucks your mouth, it sends a vibration through Bucky’s cock that just has him reeling for more. “Oh, oh God… I’ve got the prettiest fuckin’ cocksucker - a work of art."

The words are filthy yet flattering; your chest fluttering while your hands brace on Bucky’s thighs. You keep your jaw slack, making the slide as easy for him as possible as the tip of his cock abuses the back of your throat. There's a certain fulfilment that comes with being used so filthily; Solely existing for Bucky's pleasure in that moment as he shifts from guiding you to thrusting. 

Your nose buries in the neatly trimmed pubic hair, flush with his pubic bone every time he cants his hips up into your willing mouth. This is how all blowjobs tend to go. With you taking the lead before Bucky can't handle it anymore and pummels your poor mouth. 

It leaves a delicious ache. 

Drool slips down your chin, doe-eyes fixed on Bucky despite the bleary picture he makes with tears dripping down your cheeks. Your sounds are muffled yet still whorish; your skin prickled with heat and the knot in your stomach slowly building. You grind your hips into the air looking for something to hump. You whine when you find nothing; more drool pooling past your red mouth as Bucky tilts his head back into the cushions with a low moan. 

"That's it, take it, take all of my cock, baby. Like you were fuckin' made for it, mm, my precious little fuckhole. God, I love you, love my messy whore."

Your head is swimming, all you can focus on is the feel of the cock thrusting in and out of your slack mouth while Bucky uses your hole to his delight. Even when your head feels light from the lack of air, you float happily and trust Bucky. Bucky always takes care of you.

He tugs your head up by your hair, pulling you off his cock, and only then are you able to swallow lungfuls of air; gasping with spit-slick lips and a gossamer connects you to the tip of Bucky’s flushed cock. 

“Cock-drunk. Like I said.” Bucky playfully chides and you whimper pitifully in response. Bucky laughs condescendingly at how pathetic you are and your chest blossoms. His hand cups your face tenderly, vibranium fingers wrapped around his dick while he smears his cockhead against your cheek. You turn your head instinctively towards the cock, mouthing wet kisses up the length and Bucky barks out a laugh at how hungry you are.

“Fuck, when did you get so desperate? You’d think I never touch you.” He traces your lips with the flushed tip; your tongue darts out to lap up the pre-come. 

“As if I don’t have you bent over the nearest surface every other day; Pumping you full of my seed and leaving you fuckdumb.” Bucky slaps the length against your cheek wetly. You tongue down his shaft, as much as Bucky’s clutch in your hair will allow, and mouth at his balls hungrily. Bucky groans low and primal in his throat.

“Dirty, dirty…” His hand comes to hold your jaw, tongue sliding past your loose and parting lips. Playing with your tongue, Bucky shakes your head like a dog and you mewl. Fingers curling into the flaps of his jeans from where you’d pulled them open. “Shh, you’re alright, honey. M’just playin’ is all, yeah, you’re so cute like this. So airheaded n’ dumb.”

You suckle on Bucky’s thumb, your reply coming in a pleased purr to have your mouth full again. It’s not his dick, but you’re more than happy to bob your head. Bucky bites his lips and grins wickedly. 

“I love how stupid you get for me, baby. It’s absolutely adorable, knowin’ you’d let me do anythin’ I wanted to you,” Bucky coos all too lovingly for it to be merely lust and heat. 

He slips his thumb from your lips and you chase the digit with a whimper; Mourning the loss. Bucky just grips your hair again and pulls you back to his balls. 

“C’mon, sunshine, suck on my balls.” The weight in your mouth nearly has you salivating, sucking on Bucky’s balls and right where you’re meant to be; Worshipping this man.

His cock is heavy against your face as Bucky jerks off to the gorgeous and whorish sight you make for him. The bruent groans, stroking his cock as Bucky watches you intently mouth as his heavy sac; Saliva dripping all over his skin and making a mess. His cock jerks infront of you, pulsing and veins bulging. 

“That’s it, good pet… So fuckin’ good, yeah, you’re so perfect — Fuck, what am I gonna do with you..?” Bucky guides your mouth back to his cock. Up the length and taking the head between your lips before swallowing him down entirely. Back to the steady bob as you moan around the intrusion and Bucky groans roughly into the thick and heavy air.

“I wanna fuck your face, sunshine,” Bucky rasps out, and you stutter your ministrations for half a moment to peer up at him in the helpless daze that consumes you. “Yeah, you like that idea? Don’ gotta do nothin’, honey, just let me use that pretty fuckhole of yours.” The words purred out so sweetly, you profusely nod. Eager to be of use. Pulling off his cock, you utter the word: “O-Okay…” “Good fuckin’ pet…” Bucky’s fingers thread delicately through your hair until he’s tightening the grip. Sinking you down onto his length yet again and forcing you to take every inch he gives you. It doens’t stop there. Instead the soldier braces his feet on the carpet alongside where you’re sat between his open thighs. He pistons his hips up - hitting your gag reflex and causing you to sputter around his cock.

There is no mercy. Bucky fucks up into your face, setting a progressive pace to allow you to slowly adjust but not for long. It’s only a few moments later that he’s fucking up into you like his own personal hole. Piercing steely eyes burning through you as he watches you choke and sputter on his impressive girth. It’s a mess of spit and tears that stream down your cheeks from the brutality of the face-fucking. 

Heavy balls slap against your jaw and Bucky moans. You tingle between your legs, wet from being able to be a tool for Bucky. An object of pleasure; Something about it has always turned you on in being able to please your partner. There’s no better pleasure than Bucky using you like the fuckhole you’re made to be, and he lets you know that.

“God, baby, you were made for this. Should just keep you for this one day; Make you my pretty little fuckdoll and the only thing you gotta worry about is fuckin’ yourself stupid on my cock. You make such a pretty sight, fuck, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you…” The litany is breathless as Bucky continues to thrust his dick in and out of your welcoming mouth. 

You choke and sputter; Face hot and eyes burning with tears that drip off your chin in fat droplets. Cries die in your throat, high off the euphoria of the moment and burning on the adrenaline of being used as a fleshlight. Your lips ache; His pelvis smacks into you every time he ruts his hips up. Bucky slides down your throat easily. He’s right. You’re made for it.

You don’t know how long it goes on for. Instead you ogle in heaven, seeing and feeling nothing but Bucky. Even through the wet and slick squelches of your mouth being used, you couldn’t be happier. You roll your hips to find nothing - you suppose that’s the punishment of losing the game. Only one of you get off.

He fucks your face until you’re dizzy and can’t breathe. When you fear you might sputter for air is when Bucky unravels; Your throat flexing around his cock and fingers feeling every now and again in your throat for the tell-tale bulge. 

It’s when Bucky’s hips stutter and the dirty talk bleeds more into primal noises rather than words. Grunts through his teeth, low growls while he abuses your throat up until the moment Bucky’s hips jerk harshly. The movements stutter, and Bucky punches out a harsh gasp. Then you feel it. 

The hot pump of his come down your throat; Filling you up.

You threaten to choke and Bucky hushes you, rubbing sympathetically over your windpipe. “Shh shh, that’s it, swallow every last drop, baby. Take it all…” He rolls his hips impossibly deeper into your sore jaw. You feel drunk and you weren’t even the one that got to ride out their orgasm. With a few last grunts and rolls of his hips, Bucky withdraws from your sensitive mouth. Half-soft cock falling and you greedily swallow for air.

Bucky pets you through it all - whispering out your praise. How good you did for him. How much he loves you.

You take a moment to recover, head pillowed on Bucky’s inner thigh as he pets your hair lovingly. You drool onto the denim of his jeans, and if Bucky minds, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he watches you with loving eyes and a soft hum; As if this wasn’t the same man who just deduced you to his filthy fuckhole. If you didn't know any better, sometimes you'd think the man who fucks you and the man who bought you a book you'd been dying trying to find for Valentine's day were two separate people.

Bucky does it because he knows you love it. You could tap out any time with the special little word you both selected months ago when your sex life began to spicen up past vanilla rocking. But you don’t. No, you take it all and then some because it feels good and sometimes you’re convinced it’s what you were made to do. 

You take your time recouping. Bucky rubs through your hair lovingly and affectionately, soft hums to add noise to the space. You smile, delighted, as if you’re the one who’s won and come. Calloused fingers trace the shape of your smile and you nearly preen. Slotting open your droopy eyes, you find Bufcky still there. Still sweet.

“You did so good, honey. M’so proud of you.” He praises, knowing now that he has your attention. Your grin splits and give him a toothy smile. “My sweet sunshine,” Bucky’s voice is soft and inviting, a lopsided grin on his chiseled features. You feel like the only thing in the world for a moment.

Although you want to talk, words don’t come easily and instead, you drag Bucky down into a languid kiss. Bucky groans at the taste of himself on you, but other than that, he’s chaste and gentle. Knowing when to play rough and when not to. It’s heaven when his lips move against yours so tenderly. Your heart still flutters like a teenager in love.

The both of you remain that way for a few minutes. Slow kissing even if you imagine Bucky’s back burns from the lean and your neck is starting to ache from how you crane it. Still, there’s nowhere you’d rather be than with Bucky.

“How about we head on to our room, sunshine, and I’ll take care of the rest?” Bucky purrs against your throat when he trails kisses down. The brush of his beard tickles and the feeling of his warm breath on your skin makes you happy to be alive.

“Actually,” you say after a beat, swallowing hard and clearing your throat. You pull yourself together as much as you can before leaning back and away from Bucky. 

He eyes you with a mild look of concern as you prop back against the coffee table, reaching for the untouched can that Bucky had brought in with his game proposal. You pop the red cap off and it scatters to the floor below, lost. Then, pulling yourself up to sit on the edge of the coffee table, you shake the can. You lift your hips, shimmying out of the underwear you’d been left in - both of you are half naked at this point and you’ve seen one another countless times, you have nothing to hide.

The pair pools around your ankles and you use your foot to toss them, discarded like everything else that’s met the floor this evening - save for you. Bare legs spread, an open invitation and show. Bucky’s eyes light up, and you adore how he seems to treat everytime like the first time again, too.

“I was thinking about a round two,” you purr with newfound confidence and second wind; Spraying a strip of whipped cream down from your navel and disappearing between your legs. “What do you say, Barnes?” 

“Oh, you’re on.”

[nash-dara]

LONG LIVE

Grumpy x Sunshine

Modern College AU

Characters:

Bucky Barnes (Reader's nickname for him: Wolfie)

Reader (No YN just using Bucky's given nickname: Petal, Others: Bear)

Warning: swear words (LANGUAGE), consensual touching, oozing sexual tension, fluff, Bucky Barnes, comfort, Idiots in Love. Please remind me if I forgot something. Thank you!

Author's Note: Reader is female, hair is shoulder length and eyes are brown, height is 5'2, no other description other than that.

AN2: English is not my first language, this fic is not beta, beware.

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I didn't know that a simple ceremony would be this complicated. It's been weeks of this repeating marching and sitting and we are still practicing the same flow of the events—Well mostly, it's the fault of the host because they keep changing their script for the ceremony and pronouncing certain names or whatnot.

    

First of all, it's summer already and the weather is furiously bothering me and this place is a hot mess. Bunch of sweaty people, too much noise, and on top of that we just have this gigantic ceiling fan that barely gives air and it gives me a major flashback to the final destination, making me think that this sharp fan circling above our heads will suddenly fall and slash our heads.

    "Bear"

   "Bear!" I felt my whole head palpitate caused by the scream directed to me while a tug somewhere in my left sleeve. I turned and saw Wanda grinning, her face so close could see her pupils dilated.

    "What the hell—" holding my hand to my chest and the other to stabilize myself from the clutch of hers. "I keep calling you but your head is out in the space again"

    "Well you sure do got my attention now," shaking my head then smiled at her. "What's up, buttercup?" I took her hands and moved her beside me when I saw an instructor doing rounds to the student seating in our area to check if someone was doing any misbehavior.

    She keeps on moving beside me, so I ask her again...and again.

    "Wands, what is it?"

    "Oh right, yeah about what I came here for—do you still remember the student we sent to our neighboring country for the linguistic program"

   I turned to her and gave her a bored look, "Are you high, Wanda?—Not sure,  maybe we know those people we spent like 10 years of our lives and just gone for like 2 months, what do you think?" sarcasm laced in my voice. I still feel hurt that they won't be able to join us for our graduation because even though they just spent like 2 months there, the university that took them made a mandatory inclusion that their official graduation will be with their school and not here in this hellhole. Well, lucky for them they not only avoid experiencing this extreme heat however shitty for me because I really miss them—especially wolfie.

    "Don't get cranky, bear. I know you're still salty for it but what I'm about to say will take all your bad juju away" my eyebrows raise as she keeps smiling at me weirdly. "Uhuh, is it? Do tell?" I told her while moving back my attention to the stage in front of us.

    "Well, I think some dog really missed their home and flew back here" my neck hurt a bit as I looked into her quickly. "What the fuck?! For real?!"

    "Yeah, your wolfie is here, but please pretend that you don't know- it's supposed to be a surprise for you" she took my hands and caressed it.

    "—but I can't help but say it to cheer you up with all the drama you experience being the only one who does your thesis yet your groupmates can graduate with flying colors because they mooch off you like a damn leech and still get full credits included in 2 major courses and have full grades."

    Her voice is now getting loud and full of huff, I move a little closer to her and give her a nudge to keep her voice low because she doesn't need to say it anymore the whole batch in our program already knows what the situation as I can be seen few months ago, solely defending the thesis and on the verge of breakdown when the instructors called my groupmates to talk to them in front of the students that day asking for the reason why I'm the only one who did all the work when they assigned it as groupwork.

    "I still can't believe our instructors didn't allow you to drop them because it's not they are lazy they just don't have brain cells to use."

    "I know, I know—it's really fucked up but it's done, at least I'm still able to keep myself included in the High Honor Awardee"

    "At least?! you, girl, deserve to be seated here with us in Highest Honor Awardee", Tasha, as we call her, she's the girl called Nat from another class who I got close to a few months before wolfie left, she almost shouted after swearing one after another. I put my pointy finger in front of me signaling her to keep her voice down as I hear a brief grunt coming from one of the instructors monitoring walking past me.

    "It's not that I do not deserve to be there but I know I had moments that I wasn't able to perform well because of my fault too, maybe I got distracted, and with all the other stress and I shouldn't have put all the blame to them, okay?" I gave them a small smile to appease them for a bit.

    A loud echo coming from several taps on a microphone done by the host of the ceremony took all of our attention. The rehearsal begins again—and again. I keep singing the songs we are required to do, it's been 17 minutes but I feel I've just done it for an hour already, my throat is getting dry and scratchy added to the heat that even the fan beside our seats cannot even subdue with thousands of students cramp into this average size covered court. I groan and aggressively wave my hand towards me creating a little blow of air.

    Repeated pulls in my hair startled me and I quickly turned around to look for the impertinent creature who tried to mess with me. My hands prepared to hit their annoying ass when I heard a familiar voice, "Getting hot in their, petal?"

    His blue eyes, I often wonder why those blue eyes gave me this different comfort I've never had with someone. I tried my best to scour my brain and think how I managed to befriend him but all I can remember is during one of our group activities when we needed to shoot a video, I was the assigned writer and he was in the creatives, with all the tauntings, bickering, and jabs directed to each other something just blossom there—I think?

--------------------------------------------------

"Your mind has been wandering for like a millennium, are you imagining some crude scenes again from your smutty books?", I can feel his breathing closely into my face. I felt my cheeks heat and sneer at him.

"I'm not!"

"You did really enjoy those books I gave you, with all the vivid covers that match the insides of it, even the priest will blush and call for all the saints when they read the content of it

"Well, I didn't know you have a great taste when it comes to those books, especially with all the tension in it. I didn't think of you as someone who enjoys stories pulling the hair of someone they like and then kisses them after", my stomach grumbled before he could even bicker back. I felt my head being patted gently, unsure of what I just felt.

"Hey, Wanda just fix my hair" my lips immediately contorted into a pout. I look sideways to focus my attention on him more when an abrupt loud noise cuts in.

NEXT BATCH YOU CAN NOW ENTER THE COVERED COURT, THE REST WHO ARE HERE RIGHT NOW CAN TAKE A SHORT BREAK

Before I can even register what has been announced I am already being escorted into the exit and side of the covered court.

"Do you have food with you? I'm getting hungry and the line is already long when we get there. Lemme chat with Wanda or Nat, maybe they already found a seat in the cafeteria, or maybe they have gone outside and already bought something" I took m phone out of my pocket and started to construct my message using my notes before sending it to them.

"I still wonder why you do that, you know"

"What do you mean?"

"That, you often write messages into your notes first before sending them", his face is now close to the phone I'm holding as he leans towards me.

"Well, I do— I feel like it's more comfortable to write here first so before sending I can check first if there's something wrong and if there is I wouldn't have accidentally sent it even if my phone suddenly froze up or I just accidentally touch sent because there's no sent button here in notes. Like I can edit it first and construct a proper message and rethink it before sending." my eyes already left my phone while I was explaining it to him and now gazing at the hallway.

"Did you have fun while I was gone?", my attention drifted back to him and I saw him looking directly at my eyes with his blues for the second time.

"Fun you say, I just felt like I got beat up by a thousand men simultaneously with all the stress and pain I felt—", I look into his eyes before continuing "—although Nat introduced me to her friend back from her hometown, he's quite a charmer", we started to take a walk towards the small hut situated outside the library, taking a rest and the breeze coming from the tree soothes the extreme heat, while we were seating I thought of breaking the silence that surrounds us however Bucky beats me first, "Tell me more what happen while I was gone?"

I saw him getting food out of his sling bag with my favorite drink, my attention quickly drew back to the food presented to me before I could even hold my hand out, he waved it first in front of my face before drawing it back. Gaining my attention, he repeated himself, "What is it huh?"

I took a sigh and gave him a quipped smile, "Seriously? I mean Steve might have already told you everything, you've been in contact since you went to another country for an exchange student program, anything you wanna know he might have told you already"

"I mean I'm just curious what can happen as you see it through your eyes, you know Steve, he likes to censor a lot of things, our man can't even swear without blushing," he said while finally handing out the food he has been holding. Silence surrounds us again as I indulge myself with a deluxe treat. "Heyy, don't just eat the food I brought you, I missed your knucklehead you know and you are just acting like I just grown two heads and we don't know each other"

I took a bite before looking at him again, he nudged my arm while I continued to swing my feet as I ate, "Do you miss me, petal? Because I do"

He finally said the words I've been wanting to hear to come out from his mouth, "You really miss me? dude, don't know if you're kidding me right now" I glared at him, maybe he might still realize what have he done before I spilled all of it to him.

"I do, I really miss you, petal. Do you miss your wolfie?" I felt a gentle squeeze in my thighs.

"Let me think—" I put the food on the table in front of me and faced sideways to him, I put my fingers to my temple and acted like I was thinking.

I gave him a sweet smile before answering "I think—No" I said and picked up my food again to start to eat, before I could feel the savory taste of the cheeseburger he bought for me, I felt a cold hand touch my arm stopping me. My movements stalled and I quickly closed my mouth as I scrunched my nose for his insolence to stop me from eating a delicacy. Like who in their right mind would stop a woman and her food. He just went to another country and charmed multiple beautiful women and now he has this audacity, would I allow it—HECK NO.

"Hey! Don't roll your eyes on me" he took my food out of my hand and set it down himself. Now he's just asking for a beating.

"Why do you even want to hear my answer" before he could even answer I muttered in a scratchy voice abruptly "Heck, why are you even asking me that now, you didn't reply to my messages when I was trying to talk to you8 while you were there. You are busy parading yourself out of the country and you talk to our friends except me, so excuse me—you are getting on my nerves. One more interruption while I am eating, I will not think twice to swing my arm to your fucking face, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am" his voice laced with a smirk as I continued to glare at him. A few moments later after I finished eating and now just passing the time by looking at the other students walking back to the covered court. Bucky is now facing my back and his hands are now caressing my hair I can even feel how he twists each strand, braiding it, I think.

He knows how to make me weak, he brought me food and now he is braiding my hair just like before he left me, I will not be able to keep my facade if he continues acting like this. I know to myself that I need to be strong because parting with him is inevitable.

    "I just noticed something, my petal" he broke the silence as he continued to play with my hair, and I hummed asking him to continue. "—where did you hear that I'm parading myself out of the country? like do you— I mean are you jealous?"

    I can feel the chills that just run down my spine, "What do you mean jealous?! Of your knucklehead? Freaking NO" I quickly faced him and for the second time today I can see from his eyes flashes of thoughts running while still unable to comprehend what he was trying to say. Before he could even answer, I heard Wanda's loud voice telling us to go back inside and Sam's yelling to wait for him.

    "Let's continue this conversation later, okay petal?" when he didn't hear my answer he gave my hand a few tugs, "Yeah—okay" I whispered before Wanda whisked me away from him.

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AN: This would be double posted to my AO3 account, @nash_dara, should I continue and make a part 2 or we can just let our imagination end this? Thank you for reading, love lots!

[buckets-and-trees]

Aspen's Enchanted Birthday Festival Announcement

October first marks one hundred days until my birthday! So from now until my birthday on January 9th I'm hosting a writing festival!

For this fest, I'm interested in seeing some mystical creatures we don't typically see, though you're free to adapt them and their lore however you see fit.

You do not need to follow me to participate (though it's appreciated). Details and guidelines under the keep reading/read more...

REQUIRED: Feature at least one of the creatures from this list:

Leshy/Leshen

Lampago

Lampad

Naiad

Dryad

Drows

Peryton

Tarasque

Skrat

The creature could be the reader, the leading man, or a creature they encounter. You can go with strict mythology, or riff off the elements of the base lore.

REQUIRED: Feature at least one of the characters from this list:

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Thor Odinson

Joaquin Torres

Nick Fowler

God the Bounty Hunter

Ari Levinson

Curtis Everett

Lloyd Hansen

OPTIONAL: if you would like some melodic or lyrical inspiration, here are nine songs I'm floating your way:

“A&W” by Lana Del Rey

“Holocene” by Bon Iver

“Never Let Me Go” by Florence + the Machine

“The Lightning Strike” by Snow Patrol

“If I Say” by Mumford & Sons

“Fine Line” by Harry Styles

“Abstract (Psychopomp)” by Hozier

“The Moment I Said It” by Imogen Heap

“Daydreaming” by Rosa Pullman

Writing must be an x reader story.

Minimum 500 words, maximum 9k words.

If part of an existing series, must be able to read as a stand alone piece.

Must be posted on tumblr between October 1, 2023, and January 9, 2024.

I will only read and reblog works that tag @buckets-and-trees and use the tag #aspensenchantedbday.

Stories MUST use a creature and character from the lists provided, but using song inspiration is optional.

All stories must be inclusive in nature.

No DD/lg dynamics, no pet play, no beastiality (if a monster cannot express consent, it is beastiality), no rpf (real person fiction), no scat play, no underage relations of a romantic or sexual nature.

Make sure to tag content and trigger warning appropriately and use a read more/keep reading cut after 300 words.

If you want to create something for THIS event that also aligns with other challenges or events, you can stack/maximize as long as that other event or challenge allows for it (doesn’t demand exclusivity).

I'm not obligated to read or reblog any works that fail to adhere to the requirements listed above.

If you're familiar with my library, you'll know I write a range of light to dark, fluff to smut, and so entries across the board are welcome as long as they meet the stipulated requirements.

May these creatures haunt your muse in the best way between now and January 9th!

[sagechanoafterdark]

Once Upon A Blue Moon

With the chaos of the Flag Smashers and the fear of new super soldiers behind him, Bucky Barnes finds himself loathed to admit that he might be missing something. After a fateful run-in with a pushy Alpha female in Target and less than gentile coaxing from his "coworker" Sam, he might be headed in the right direction.

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Series Warnings: language, a/b/o dynamics, soulmate AU, nicknamed reader, angst but the good kind, slowish burn, shameless trope inclusion, the reader is a career woman, Bucky is a fucking mess, Sam and Edith are the best wingmen, Bucky is also in denial, the reader just wants to make his life easier, possible sexy times (?)

Part Two

Part One

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Epilogue

[onceuponastory]

letting you down - rockstar!bucky x reader

Don't you get sick of only hearing your own voice? Talk like you're so damn tough, but you're just a little boy You like to think you've broke the mould, but now I'm sure, You'll crack just like the rest when I break your fucking jaw! - the best thing (that never happened) by we are the in crowd

Edit: Although the girl I used in the original moodboard was meant to be Natasha, I want my fics to be inclusive for all, so have updated the moodboard to reflect this. Plot: Tour romances mean nothing serious...right?

Or, fresh out of a breakup and deciding to focus on her music, Y/N jumps at the chance to go on tour with one of her favourite bands to take her mind off of things. Especially romance. Unfortunately for her, their drummer just can't keep his eyes off of her. Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Emotional abuse and manipulation (not from Bucky), reader’s ex being a dick, self doubt, a tiny mention of violence and anxiety. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: Another rockstar Bucky fic, because I do love him so. Also, this was inspired by song above, so I recommend you listen to it (also because it’s a great song). Again, thanks to @staticscreenwriting / @astartothemoon for my dividers. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

Taking a seat on the cold wooden chair in her agent’s office, Y/N anxiously nibbles on the skin of her lip, almost tearing it off with how nervous she is. Only an hour ago, she was told to come to the office urgently because her agent had news for her, too important to share over the phone. The whole time, she’s been wracking her brain to figure out what she could want to tell her. And each time, her mind has come up with the worst potential outcomes. And after just being dumped, that’s the last thing she needs right now. “So, we have some news.” Helen, her agent, announces, peering at her over the frame of her glasses. Y/N gulps. It’s the sort of look a mother gives her child when they’re caught sneaking cookies out of the jar, or when she knows that they’re the one who broke her vase. Either way, it’s not a good sign. She’s definitely about to be dropped. Maybe Dylan's right. Maybe she’s not cut out for this. Her stomach churns, and she warily eyes the exit, just in case.

“Good news, I hope…?” She chuckles awkwardly, starting to hope the ground will swallow her whole.

“It depends on whether you have any plans in September.” Frowning, Y/N raises a brow. However, before she can even ask why, Helen continues. “Because The End of The Line wants you to open for them on their US Tour that month.” She states casually. Y/N’s mouth drops open.

“WHAT?!” she squeals. “Are you serious?!” The End of The Line is a band she knows very well. Okay, she knows their music. Yet, considering how they’ve got multiple number ones and album nominations under their belts, practically everyone knows who they are. They’re one of the most successful bands going in the scene right now. But she had no idea they knew who she was. What feels like only a few months ago, Y/N was posting her own original songs on her YouTube and performing in her local bar…and now, she’s going on tour with one of her favourite bands. Not even that. Imagine the exposure this could bring. All the new fans and support. She doesn’t even realise how much her heart is beating or how close she is to hyperventilating until Helen passes over a glass of water.

“Don’t be so modest.” She tuts. “The first single you released has been in the Top 10 for weeks, and your album is selling incredibly well. You’re in high demand, and people know it.” Y/N gulps down the water almost in one go, still shaking. “Are you okay? I don’t want you passing out on my floor.”

“No, no. I’m okay! I’m good.” Y/N lies. Helen raises a brow.

“Okay, well I need to confirm your attendance with their team so they can schedule a meeting with them and the band to go over venues. And then there’s merchandising, transport arrangements….” Helen’s voice fades into static as Y/N grapples with the situation. She’s going on tour with one of her favourite bands. They know who she is, and they like her. She pinches her skin a few times, wondering if she’s still dreaming. That she’ll open her eyes and she’ll be a nobody again, her perfect Cinderella story over. 

However, the repeated pinching doesn’t work, meaning that this is real. That revelation somehow both makes her relieved and absolutely terrified. Sure, she’s going on her first tour…but that means there’s more people to disappoint. The band, for a start. But then again, going on tour means meeting one of her favourite bands ever. Not to mention that by getting herself out there, more and more people can discover her music, and she can hopefully do what she loves for a living, rather than waiting tables for the rest of her life. Which means potentially more tours and new albums. And she won’t have to spend as much time in her practically empty apartment now that Dylan’s left. “So? What should I say?” Helen asks, peering over the rim of her glasses again.

Taking a breath, Y/N answers: “Tell them I’d love to tour with them.”

A few weeks later, Y/N and Helen enter the building where she’s about to meet The End of the Line and their agent. Glancing around the vast building, Y/N’s heart rate picks up. A year ago, she could only dream of going to a place like this for a visit, let alone to meet one of the biggest bands in the scene to plan a tour with them. As they enter the elevator, Y/N fiddles with the waistband of her trousers, suddenly feeling more and more constricted. 

“Maybe this was the wrong outfit choice. Maybe I should’ve been more casual?” She wonders. “Actually, maybe I should just go. I definitely do not fit in here. Sure, I’ll be getting out of the house, but is it really worth all this?” Y/N bounces anxiously on her heels, waiting for the elevator to reach the floor they need so she can make a break for it. 

“Y/N, please calm down before you stress me out. That’s the last thing either of us needs.” Helen sighs.

“Sorry. I’m just nervous.” Yet she can tell Helen’s words are not malicious. Helen really does care for her. She just has a funny way of showing it sometimes.

“I know. Trust me, though, they don’t bite. And I made Tony promise that he’d play nice, too.” She chuckles. Y/N doesn’t laugh. The elevator dings, and Helen announces that they’ve made it. Y/N’s heart drops. Although she considered running, she now can’t move. “Come on.” Helen orders, beckoning her to follow. Y/N does as she asks, as if on autopilot.

“That woman must have magic powers.” She thinks to herself.

When they reach the meeting room, to Y/N’s surprise, Helen simply walks in without knocking, giving her no time to prepare. 

“Well, look who finally arrived! It’s wonderful to see you again, Helen.” A man grins, shaking Helen’s hand. He’s dressed in a crisp black suit, one that Y/N recognises absolutely costs more than her rent for a year. Presumably that’s Tony. Y/N steps forward, ready to introduce herself. Until-

“Hey! You must be Y/N!” Before she can even react, Natasha Romanoff is standing in front of her. Y/N gulps. 

“Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you!” She holds out a hand for her to shake, but Natasha pulls her into a hug instead. 

“There’s one thing you gotta know about Nat. She’s a hugger.” She recognises Steve’s voice, but suddenly realising Natasha Romanoff is a real person to then being hugged by her in such a short space of time is a lot for Y/N to cope with.

“You’re gorgeous! I can’t wait to go on tour with you!” Nat squeals, and Y/N mutters something in reply, still in shock. 

“Nat, let the poor girl breathe and let the rest of us say hi!” a voice speaks, and Y/N is soon released from Nat’s grasp. Then, she meets the rest of the band, starting with Steve and Sam. “And over there is…” 

But the man on the couch needs no introduction. Bucky Barnes leans against the back of the couch, twirling a drumstick between his tattooed fingers. In fact, tattoos cover both of his arms and most of his hands, little of his actual skin showing. He cocks his head, looking over her body with a smile. This man just oozes confidence…and he’s fucking gorgeous.

“Bucky.” She whispers, although not quietly enough, as Bucky laughs.

“Yup, that’s me.” Y/N blushes. Bucky gets up and shakes her hand. Her fingers brush over the calluses dotted around his fingers, and a shiver reverberates through her body. “Nice to meet you.” He smiles, and Y/N gulps. Fuck, this man is attractive, and he knows it. And he probably knows that she knows it too, given how he’s looking at her. Nothing can come of this, though. She’s here to do a job and for her music, not to fall in love. Especially after everything that’s happened in her love life, and especially not with a band guy like Bucky Barnes. 

“Come on, let’s start planning.” Tony orders. As the group takes their seats, Bucky sits right across from her, still smiling. Still staring at her. Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat.

She can already tell…he’s got trouble written all over him.

The next few months of interviews, photoshoots and practice sessions whizz by in a blur. In seemingly no time at all, it’s time for Y/N to go on tour. She looks up at the tour buses, her stomach churning with both excitement and her nerves. 

Is it too early to go home?

“Hey! You made it!” a voice calls. And there go her escape plans.

“Hey Eddie. Do you know where I’m supposed to be staying? Am I with you guys on your bus?" she asks. Eddie is one of the band’s merch guys, and since meeting, the pair gelled right away, something which Y/N is immensely grateful for. Of course, she’s glad she and the band are getting on so well, but it’s nice to have a friend who isn’t in a band, someone she can just talk to about anything. In all honesty, Y/N’s still nervous around the band. They’re lovely, but she’s star-struck and hopelessly awkward whenever she’s with them, which isn’t a good thing when you’re trying to make friends. 

To her confusion, though, Eddie chuckles. “Sorry Y/N, but you’re not with us.” He gestures his head to the other bus. “The musicians are all in there.” Y/N gulps. This isn’t what she expected. She feels like a fish out of water, even now. Like she doesn’t belong. She’s just an opener, a nobody.

“But-” 

“Yes, that means you too.” Eddie cuts her off. “And we’re full.” He continues before she can say anything more. “On you go.” When she doesn’t move, he gently nudges her forward, towards the door of the bus. “You better be fast and get a good bunk!” He calls after her as she nervously steps on board. 

As she makes her way to the bunk area, clutching her bag close to her chest, Y/N looks around the bus, her home for the next few weeks. Its kitchenette is even bigger than her kitchen at home. Actually, this whole bus is bigger than her apartment. Earlier this year, she could only dream of standing on a bus like this, yet alone living here. This is definitely going to take some getting used to. 

“Hey guys.” She smiles when she reaches the bunks. They all smile when they see her, each welcoming her to her new home, which makes her feel a little less nervous. “So, which bunk is mine?” 

“You’re up here, above me.” Bucky answers. Y/N’s eyes widen, and immediately, her nervousness is back. Bucky? She’s sleeping in close proximity to Bucky? The same drummer who’s been on her mind ever since she met him, despite her attempts to block him out? How can this possibly go wrong? “I hope that’s okay. If you’d rather have the bottom one, just say.” He reassures her. Despite her nerves, Bucky’s commitment to making sure she’s okay and comfortable makes her smile. 

“No, the top one is totally fine. Thanks Bucky.” She nods, trying to throw her bag onto the bed, but unable to reach.

“Let me help you with that.” Bucky chuckles. 

“Are you sure? I’m okay Bucky, it’s-” But the bag falls to the floor before she can finish her sentence. Bucky laughs again. Yet it’s not a mocking laugh. It’s a friendly laugh, actually. “Okay, maybe I do need help.” Bucky picks up her bag, lifting it over her head and onto the bunk with ease. As he does, she immediately notices his proximity to her. He’s so close that he’s almost trapping her between the bunks. So close she could reach out and run her finger along every single outline of each of Bucky’s tattoos, touch every freckle and birthmark dotting his skin. Y/N gasps. She never realised how muscular he was at first. “Thanks.” She smiles.

“You’re welcome.” He nods. For a moment, it’s as if it’s just them two on the bus, in their own little universe, each staring into the other’s eyes. But then, a little voice sounds in Y/N’s head.

“Don’t get with band dudes. They’re no good. And they’re the last thing you need, especially now.” And so, she pulls away. As she does, she registers Bucky’s smile faltering slightly. “So, what are the beds like? Are they comfy?” She asks, climbing up to her bunk, hoping to change the subject. 

“Yeah, they’re alright.” Bucky replies, his voice mumbled slightly. As she lays down, Bucky’s smile fading and his slight disappointment replays in her mind. His disappointment confuses her.

This is for her own good.

For both of their own good.

So why does she feel so bad about it?

Early the next morning, Y/N sits alone at the small table in the bus’ kitchenette, staring out at the window and watching the world go by. A steaming mug of coffee sits opposite her. Unsurprisingly, her nerves meant she didn’t sleep well the night before. Especially since tomorrow marks the first night of the tour, and her first time performing for people who aren’t the regulars at her local bar.

“Hey.” A familiar voice speaks, pulling her out of her thoughts as Bucky sits opposite her. Y/N rubs her eyes, mumbling a good morning. “You good? Wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up so early.” He remarks. She waits, a part of her expecting a cheeky or sarcastic comment to follow. However, there’s no malice in Bucky’s comment. In fact, it’s far from cruel. It’s from a place of concern, making sure she’s alright after having her world changed practically overnight. And Y/N appreciates it more than he’ll ever know.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Y/N murmurs, wiping at her eyes. “Just homesick, that’s all. I’m not used to being away from home on tour yet. I mostly just stick to playing local bars.” It’s not exactly a lie. Sure, it’s not the main reason she’s sitting here teary eyed at not even 8.30am, but it’s still part of it. Bucky’s brow furrows. A part of her expects him to judge her, or to laugh at her for being so inexperienced. Like she’s used to people doing. Well…like she’s used to Dylan doing. Or worse, he’ll start prying. Something she absolutely isn’t ready for. However, Bucky simply nods. 

“Yeah, I get that. It took us all a while to get used to it, too. But don’t worry, you’re doing great, and you’re definitely good enough to be on tour.” And for the first time that morning, Y/N finds herself smiling. 

“So, now we’ve established why I’m here so early in the morning, can I ask why you are?” 

“Well, I’ve always been a bit of an early bird, and when you share a bus with three other people, some of whom snore….” He trails off, and he and Y/N laugh. “I usually take this time to write some music, but it’s nice to have some new company for once.”

“Have you been working on anything special?” Bucky shrugs.

“Just some things here and there. Maybe we could plan a writing session.” 

“Just us?” Y/N regrets the question almost immediately. Because who does that? Who asks a cute guy who talks about hanging out with you if his friends will tag along too?

“If you want.” Bucky smiles, and something in Y/N’s stomach flutters. “Okay, I’m gonna get some breakfast.” Bucky announces, getting up. “Do you want some?”

“Sure, what have you got?”

“We have…cereal or cereal.” He offers, holding up two boxes. Y/N laughs.

“Wow, what varied choices. I think I’ll have cereal, please.” Y/N points out the box she wants, and Bucky nods.

“A wise choice.” Y/N giggles again, and he grins. He passes over a bowl and sits back down. The pair chat as they eat their breakfast, laughing at each other’s jokes. Y/N can feel her heart beating like crazy. She never imagined she would be here, doing simple things like eating breakfast with a rockstar, or that they’d get along so well. Especially so soon after having her heart broken. It’s an unfamiliar experience…but it’s a nice, comfortable one all the same. 

As the morning goes on, the rest of the band slowly make their way towards them, and the bus fills with laughter and chatter. Bucky drums a rhythm on the table, and once again Y/N finds herself smiling as she watches him play, and as the others all sing along. Yet, despite how much fun she’s having at that moment, all she can think about is when this tour will be over, and how, when it ends, she’s going to be heartbroken and alone all over again. And she can’t handle that pain. Not again.

She has to limit the risk of heartbreak, wherever possible. 

The next night, Y/N paces around the green room, nervously murmuring to herself. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Oh god, they’re gonna hate me.” She wrings her hands together. “Is it too late to go home?”

“Hey, it’s alright Y/N. Calm down. Take deep breaths.” Sam encourages. 

“Yeah, you’ll be fine! You’ve practised more than enough for this. We were nervous our first time too.” Natasha continues, and the others nod. Yet, Y/N shakes her head.

“No. I won’t. It’s a huge crowd, and I’m not good enough.” A figure stands in front of her, gently taking her arms.

“Y/N.” Bucky. “I promise you, you are good enough for this. After all, that’s why we brought you on tour with us, right, guys?” A chorus of agreement fills the room, alleviating her worry slightly. 

“What if they hate me, though?”

“Nobody’s going to hate you. Did you see the reaction we got when we announced you? Everyone is so excited, and you’re going to go out there and kill it, just like you did in rehearsal.” Seeing that she’s still nervous, Bucky leans in slightly closer. “When you’re out there, imagine you’re performing just for us, like before. Think you can do that?” He asks.

“I guess….” She murmurs, and Bucky smiles. 

“Good girl. Want us to walk down to the stage with you?” He asks, and she nods. When the time comes, the band does exactly that, reassuring her the whole way there. As she waits for the song before she goes out to finish, Y/N takes deep breaths. She registers someone squeezing her hand, and Bucky whispers in her ear. “Don’t worry. Just like you practised. We’ll be right here, watching.” Y/N nods.

And then, it’s time, and Y/N steps onto the stage. Immediately, she launches into her first song. To her surprise, most of the crowd seems to know it, and she can see the people in the first few rows singing along and dancing. Even those who don’t know her look like they’re having a good time. And the same things happen with the second song. And the next song. The crowd seems to love her. 

After a few songs, Y/N takes a minute to have a drink.

“Hey guys! I’m Y/N.” The crowd cheers, and she can’t help but smile. “Some of you may know this, but this is my first actual show on an actual tour, and what a fucking amazing crowd and band to start my tour life with!” More cheers. “So thank you all, but especially thank you to The End of the Line!” She glances to the side of the stage, catching the eyes of the band. All four grin, giving her a thumbs up. Y/N smiles proudly. “This next song is called Crimson. Sing along if you know it.”

Y/N’s set goes by both quicker and better than she expected. As she gets closer to the end of her set, the band leaves to finish getting ready for their own set. However, Y/N doesn’t mind. She already feels more confident than she did at the beginning. As she finishes up her last song, she calls out: “Thank you all so fucking much! I’m gonna be hanging out at the merch table over there for a bit if you wanna come say hi or tell me I was shit. Fuck it, you guys bought the tickets.” She giggles. “Goodnight!”

When she makes it to the merch stand, Eddie hands her a beer, which she almost downs. “Damn girl.” Eddie praises. “That was fucking awesome!”

“You think?”

“Uh, yeah! The crowd loved you. We’ve sold a bunch of your merch already.” She gasps.

“You’re kidding.” He shakes his head, gesturing to something behind her. Y/N turns around to see some girls standing there, staring at her all wide eyed. “Oh sorry. Am I in your way for merch? Just tell me to move. It’s okay.”

“You were amazing! I love your music so much.” One of them grins, holding out her ticket and a sharpie. “Can you sign my ticket, please?” Y/N’s mouth drops open. She wasn’t actually expecting people to want to meet her.

“And mine!” The others chorus.

“T-Thanks!” Still slightly in shock, Y/N nods, signing each ticket and taking pictures with each of them. Soon, a few more fans come to see her, and still amazed, Y/N repeats the cycle. This is her first ever meet and greet, the first time people actually like her.

“Have a good night!” She calls as they go back towards the crowd. “Did that just happen, or am I fucking dreaming?!” she asks Eddie, who laughs.

“I told you. They love you.”

During The End Of The Line’s set, Y/N stands side stage watching them, smiling and singing along to every song as the crowd laps it up, screaming every word back to them. They’re such incredible performers. Maybe one day, that’ll be her, selling out venues across the country. She glances out on the stage, watching as the band plays. Natasha jumps around, her red hair swinging around wildly. Sam and Steve lean against each other as they play their guitars, smiling and joking with each other. And then, she sees Bucky, drumming furiously, his arms moving rapidly. He throws his hands up into the air, twirling his drumsticks between his fingers. Once the song ends, he runs his hand through his hair, strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. Breathlessly, he smiles, mouthing a thank you to the crowd. Y/N feels her breath hitching in her throat. He looks so gorgeous, a true rockstar. 

In an ideal world, one where she and her love life aren’t so broken, they’d probably be together. But there’s no way that can happen. She can see how the girls in the crowd look at him and the others. If he has the pick of any girl he wants, why would he ever go for her?

After all, she’s just an opener. Feeling her heart sinking, Y/N sighs sadly. With one last look at Bucky, she turns and walks back to the green room.

After their set, the band comes back to the green room. To her surprise, though, they’re not talking about their set…they’re talking about hers. “I knew it! You were perfect!” Natasha squeals. “We’re so proud of you!”

“And Eddie told us about your meet and greet. The fans love you.” Sam praises. Before Y/N can say anything, the band envelopes her in a group hug. The overwhelming love and support shown to her throughout the night suddenly reaches a head. Immediately, tears come to her eyes, and soon, Y/N begins crying.

“Oh god, sorry was it too much? We can be a lot, so if you’re uncomfortable, just tell us, sweetheart.”

“No! I’m just…not used to all this, to being shown so much support all at once.” She murmurs, and a chorus of “awww!” fills the room.

“Trust us.” Natasha smiles. “You deserve it.”

“Welcome to touring life Y/N! As a celebration, I say we go get food. My treat.” Steve grins.

“Wow, you’re paying? That’s new. You should savour this experience Y/N.” Sam teases, and the group dissolves into laughter. As she looks around at the band, her new friends who changed her life, Y/N smiles, already feeling her anxieties beginning to melt away slightly.

“Come on then. Let’s go.”

“That was so good. And it tasted even better since I didn’t pay.” Sam grins, and Y/N laughs. 

“Shove off. It’s your turn next time.” Steve replies. As Sam, Steve and Natasha walk on ahead, Bucky falls into step beside her. Right away, she can feel her heart rate beginning to increase.

“I’ve eaten so much, I’m surprised I’m still able to walk.” She murmurs, and Bucky laughs. 

“Yeah, I feel that. We go there every time we’re here, and every time I eat too much too. Join the club.” Y/N looks up, glancing at the stars. She used to wish on them every night, hoping someone would discover her, and that she might actually have a shot at making music, the thing she loves, her job. And now, here she is. Maybe dreams come true after all. “So.” Bucky begins, drawing her focus back to him. “Is there anywhere on this tour you’re most excited to go to?” 

“I don’t really know. In all honesty, this whole thing and getting to tour the country is still mind blowing to me. I’m happy to go anywhere.” Smiling, Bucky nods. 

“Yeah, I was the same when we first started out. You’ll still pinch yourself, even when you get as famous as us. And I have every faith you’ll get there.” Y/N gasps. It’s strange, how he’s so much more famous than her, and yet he still talks to her and treats her like he’s his equal. He really is one of the kindest people she knows. Her stomach twists in knots. And that’s going to make leaving him even more difficult. “I’m most excited to be back in New York, though. Even though I moved away, hometown shows are always the best.”

“You’re from New York too? Same!” Bucky smiles. Her eyes trace along Bucky’s jawline, illuminated by the streetlights. He looks so beautiful. She feels Bucky’s hand brushing against hers, and her heart rate increases.

If dreams do come true...she has an idea for a new one.

“Really? That’s awesome. You know, there’s a really great Italian restaurant I go to all the time whenever I’m there. Maybe we could go.” Y/N suppresses a laugh. She’d love that more than anything, but deep down, she knows he doesn’t really mean it. It’s just him trying to be nice. He’ll forget about her when all of this is over. They all will. And she can’t even blame them for it. Sighing, she nods.

“Yeah. That’d be nice.” 

As the tour continues, Y/N’s confidence continues to grow. Each night, she becomes more and more excited to go on stage. And in turn, she becomes more confident around the band, and spends more time with them, whether it’s writing songs together, shopping with Natasha, or hanging out with Sam and Steve. Basically, her touring life is perfect…aside from one little thorn in her side.

Bucky Barnes.

It’s not that Bucky has been horrible to her, not at all. In fact, he’s been the same kind and welcoming person he’s always been. That’s the problem. He’s so kind that it’s hard to not get close to him, or to want to spend time with him. Especially since she can already feel herself falling deeper in love with him with every passing day. Each time she has to pull away, Y/N feels terrible. 

“So.” Natasha smirks one day whilst they’re out shopping. “When are you gonna put that poor boy out of his misery?” When Y/N raises a brow, Natasha rolls her eyes. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I mean! Bucky is so clearly whipped for you, and you’re obviously into him. I can see it all over you.” She grins. Y/N gulps. Despite how happy she is to know that Bucky might feel the same way about her, this is the last thing she wanted to happen. 

“Nothing is going to happen Nat. And you don’t even know if that’s true.” She points out. Natasha says something in reply, but Y/N doesn’t hear it. All she can think about is how big of a problem this is, and how she’s going to have to break Bucky’s heart even more. Of course, the idea of just telling him the truth and admitting her feelings has crossed her mind a few times. Yet, despite how much she wants to do that, and to stop letting her fear and Dylan ruin her new chance at happiness…she’s too afraid to admit the truth, and to drag Bucky into her mess. Or to lose him, and be heartbroken all over again. And this time, it’ll hurt even more than it did with Dylan.

As soon as they get back, Y/N enters the bus, shutting the door behind them. She climbs into her bunk. Angrily throwing the pillow across her bunk, Y/N grabs her phone. Hopefully, scrolling through social media will make her feel better. And at first, it works as posts from her fans fill her feed. She likes and comments on a few, continuing to scroll. As Y/N reads their words, a smile grows on her face. She’s so lucky to have her fans and their support. But then, another post appears. One of her ex and her ex-best friend. Immediately, her heart sinks. They’re still together, smiling like nothing happened, acting like they haven’t left a trail of destruction in their wake and ruined her life. She’s sitting here, terrified of getting too close to Bucky and the others in case she gets hurt like that again. And the people who did it to her in the first place don't even care. They never did.

Angrily, Y/N grips her blanket, grabbing her songwriting notebook and opening it.

It’s about time she lets out her emotions.

“Is Y/N okay?” Sam asks the next morning, after they arrive in New York. “I didn’t see much of her last night, and she shut herself away as soon as we got to the venue.” Bucky furrows his brow, concern flooding his features. Y/N barely spoke to anyone, only a few words here and there. Natasha shrugs.

“She said she’s busy writing, and she doesn’t want to be disturbed. I guess we’ll find out when her new song comes out.” That makes Bucky even more concerned. He knows all about being in a deeply focused, creative headspace, and how you don’t want to speak to anyone until it’s done. But he also knows how bad it can be when you shut yourself away for so long, especially when she already looks so upset. He’ll have to check on her when he gets the chance.

Yet, the next time he sees Y/N is when she’s getting ready to go on and is in a rush. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? We were worried about you.” He asks, watching as she runs around the room, spraying hairspray and perfume everywhere. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Much better.” She insists, reapplying her lipstick in the mirror and giving herself one last check over. “Right, I gotta go. Talk soon, yeah?”

“But-” Bucky begins, cut off by Y/N placing her hand on his arm.

“Bucky, trust me. I’m okay. Bye!” And then she’s gone, leaving the scent of perfume in her wake. Despite his concern, Bucky chuckles. She sure is something. Tonight, she looks like an angel, glitter covering her lids and outfit. She looks beautiful. But she always does. This entire tour, he’s been trying to find the guts to tell her the truth about how he feels, with no luck. And the way she always turns him down or pulls away at the last second makes him think she doesn’t feel the same. Turning, Bucky follows her down towards the stage. 

Although, if she doesn’t feel the same way, he’d understand. When he gets to the side stage, Y/N is already on, in the middle of her first song. Bucky watches her as she works through her first few songs, smiling. The way she controls and interacts with the crowd is incredible, much better than he could ever do.

“Well, hello New York!” Y/N shouts into the mic, the ending of her sentence being drowned out by screams and cheers. “You guys are fucking awesome. Thank you so much!” Another round of cheering sounds, and Y/N grins, the lighting illuminating her teeth and the glitter she’s wearing. Bucky watches, smiling. “Are you guys excited for The End of The Line?” The crowd goes wild again, and Y/N laughs. “That was probably a stupid question.”

“I wanna try something new with you guys, if that’s okay.” She continues, and Bucky raises a brow. “But it means I have to tell you a story too…. Oh, I can see complete excitement on your faces, so I won’t talk too long then.” She jokes, laughing. And then, Bucky realises he’s laughing too. “So a few months ago, just before The End of The Line invited me on their tour, my boyfriend dumped me over text.” The crowd immediately starts booing, whilst Bucky raises an eyebrow. She never mentioned this. “I know! But unfortunately, it’s not just that, New York. He told me he was dumping me for one of my best friends. The same friend he was cheating on me with for the last few months of our relationship. Apparently, me playing shows was too much for him to handle, and I’d never be famous, so he had to think of his future with a girl who ‘knows what she’s doing, instead of just a bar singer’ like me.” The boos intensify, and Y/N nods, clutching a hand to her chest. “I know! At first, I let his words get to me. Look at me now, though!” The crowd cheers, and Y/N grins. “So, I put all my pain and anger into a song, and I’d like to perform it for the first time for you guys. Is that cool with you?!” The crowd goes wild, and Y/N grins, tuning her guitar. “Okay, okay! I hear you loud and clear. If you’ve ever had to deal with a shitty person in your life, I hope this song speaks to you as much as it does to me…and that you tell them to go fuck themselves.” She smirks, and Bucky laughs. “This song is called Letting You Down.” 

As the song plays, Y/N sings with more passion and fury than Bucky has ever seen. She controls the crowd masterfully, having them hanging onto every word she sings. For only just starting out, she really is a natural. Yet, her admission replays through his mind. Hearing how poorly she was treated infuriates him. Y/N’s such a talented and good-hearted person, and she doesn’t deserve that. Her ex obviously has no idea what he’s talking about. Although going through all that may explain why she’s been pulling away from him so much, and so nervous about being on tour. Y/N needs to know how talented and loved she is. And if she doesn’t, he’ll tell her every day.  

After Y/N’s set, Bucky waits in the green room for her. When she walks in and sees Bucky sitting there, her eyes widen. “Aren’t you meant to be on stage in like five minutes?” She frowns. Bucky shakes his head.

“That’s not important right now. I need to talk to you.” Her face falls.

“You heard, didn’t you?” He hates how small and ashamed her voice sounds, like he’d be mad at her for admitting the truth. Bucky nods, stepping closer.

“I did, listen Y/N, I-”

“Buck, come on, we have to go!” Steve calls, poking his head through the door. Bucky doesn’t even care. He just wants to be with Y/N. “Buck!” Steve repeats.

“You need to go!” Y/N insists.

“But-”

“Bucky. Go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” She promises, gently pushing him towards the door.

Throughout the entirety of their set, all Bucky can do is think of Y/N, and the things he needs to say to her. Things he’s wanted to say to her from the beginning. The second their set is finished, Bucky runs backstage. Y/N sits in the green room, anxiously fiddling with her thumbs. 

“Y/N.” He smiles, breathless. She looks up at him, her face falling. Bucky’s heart sinks. He hates seeing her so upset. “Can I sit?” She nods. “Y/N, I-”

“Look Bucky.” She sighs, finally cutting him off. “You’re incredibly sweet and all, but I just can’t commit to a relationship right now.” She sighs. “You heard the story about my heartbreak, right?” He nods. “Well, I can’t put myself through that pain again. I can’t give my all to somebody and receive nothing in return, I’m sorry.”

“Y/N, he sounds like a dick. And I promise you, not everyone is like that.” 

“It’s not just that.” She murmurs, staring down at the ground. “I know you’re a good person, Bucky. Fuck, I see it in you every day. You’re one of the sweetest guys I know, and I don’t want to think you’d ever hurt me like that. That’s why I’ve been pulling away from you, so neither of us get hurt. Yet, I hurt us both. Honestly, I think I’ve been in love with you ever since we met, and I do want to be with you. But what happens when this tour is over? When the fairytale is over, and we go back to our normal lives, whatever they are now? Sure, we’re musicians, but we come from two totally different worlds. And I don’t fit into your world.” She sighs. Bucky raises a brow, shuffling closer towards her. “Maybe Dylan’s right. Maybe I am just a bar singer.” Bucky gets up from his seat, kneeling in front of her. He takes her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs along her knuckles.

“Y/N. You are one of the most beautiful and talented people I’ve ever met. We could only dream of being able to control and entertain a crowd like you can. Especially tonight!” He insists. “And besides, there’s nothing wrong with being a bar singer, especially when they’re as good as you. Your ex has no idea what the fuck he’s talking about.” As she gazes into Bucky’s eyes, Y/N feels tears building in her own. 

“I want to be with you more than anything. I just can’t. I can’t risk being hurt again.” She whispers. Bucky feels his heart breaking, but he knows he can’t force her to do anything. And so, he nods.

Suddenly, the door opens, and Natasha pops her head in. At first, Bucky expects her to say something about how they’re going out for dinner or something. Yet, as soon as she sees the serious look on Natasha’s face, Y/N frowns. “Nat? What’s going on?”

“Y/N, there’s someone here to see you. He insists he knows you, and even tried to bribe our door staff to let him into the venue. Says he won’t go until you hear him out.” Immediately, Bucky tenses from beside her, and Y/N’s stomach drops. 

“Did he leave a name?” But she knows who it is before Natasha even confirms it.

“It’s Dylan.” Her entire body goes stiff. It feels like someone dumped a whole bucket of ice cold water all over her, plunging her into a horrible nightmare. 

“Wait, Dylan as in ‘Letting You Down’ Dylan? Your ex who treated you like shit?” Bucky asks, and Y/N nods, still numb. “Where is he?”

“He’s in the dressing room. The guys just shoved him in there.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Y/N hisses, already beginning to feel herself hyperventilate. 

“Y/N, we can tell him to go.” Bucky offers. To his surprise, Y/N shakes her head.

“No. I need to do this. I need to tell him myself.” She gulps. Bucky can tell she’s absolutely terrified. “I might need some moral support, though.” She admits, her eyes glancing down at the floor. Bucky finds her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Of course.” He whispers.

When Y/N and the rest of the band enter the room, Dylan turns around. As soon as he sees Y/N, he grins. Immediately, Bucky hates him. His grin looks smug, and the way he looks at Y/N makes him feel sick. If he could, he’d punch that asshole right in his smug fucking face.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She gasps.

“Wow, I just didn’t realise you were serious about this whole thing!” Dylan muses, looking around the room. “When I saw you online and on TV, I knew I had to come see you…and talk about what happened. Tell you what, why don’t we go get some drinks or some dinner, and we can just…talk it out?” Dylan whispers, reaching out to stroke her arm. The same way he used to when he was trying to get back on her good side, hoping she’d ignore all the cruel things he’d say about her and her career. Reflexively, Y/N steps back, away from him.

“Oh, so you only care about her once she’s getting more attention?” Bucky demands, earning a sharp jab in the ribs from Natasha.

“Bucky.” she hisses.

“What? He doesn’t give a shit about her or her career at first, but when he sees how popular she is and how he’s probably being blasted all over social media for rightfully being called out, he suddenly cares?” Dylan scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“Buddy, this doesn’t concern you.” Y/N’s heart sinks. Bucky’s right. Dylan doesn’t care about her at all. He’s only here to save his ass.

“Actually, it concerns all of us, buddy. We’re her friends, and we actually give a shit about her, unlike you.” Bucky snaps back.

“Can we have some alone time now?” Dylan asks, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Bucky. For a moment, Y/N almost says yes, wanting to just get rid of him as soon as possible with no further trouble. That is, however, until she glances back, ready to tell the band to do as he asks. The entire band looks pissed off, but Bucky is seething. He stands with his arms folded as he glares at Dylan. They’re the ones who care about her and her career. Not Dylan. And then, Y/N realises what she has to do. 

“No. They stay.” She states. Dylan’s brows furrow. 

“But Y/N, sweetie-”

“Don’t call me that. You lost the right to call me that a long time ago. And you have no right to come here unannounced and start making demands, especially after what you did. I want them here, so they’re staying.” She folds her arms. “Now. What do you want?” When he sees he isn’t getting his way, Dylan splutters.

“I just don’t see why you had to make such a big deal out of it, that’s all! And besides, I was just thinking about calling you before I heard the song, anyway. It would be nice to talk again.”

“Oh, you were, were you? Well, you sure have impeccable timing, don’t you? And besides, I know that’s a lie because as far as I know, you were with your girlfriend last night. Have you told her you want to start talking to me again?” 

“Y/N, come on, don’t be like that. I’m trying to apologise. You always were so dramatic. It’s obvious I didn’t mean everything I said.”

“And yet ‘sorry’ isn’t the first word that came out of your mouth.” She hears sniggering in the background, which only spurs her on further. “And it’s not being dramatic. It’s called standing up for yourself and realising that you’ve treated me like shit for as long as I can remember, and I’m tired of it. If you think I’m coming back to you so you can do it again, you’re dumber than I thought you were. So, you can take your apology and shove it up your ass.” Dylan’s eyes widen, and he splutters again. In a way, it’s funny seeing the man who treated her like shit be unable to handle her sticking up for herself. “Now, go.”

“I’d advise you listen to her and fuck off before we call security. Trust us, you don’t want that.” Sam warns. Dylan tries to argue back, but when he sees he isn’t getting anywhere, he groans, beginning to leave.

“Bitch.” He murmurs as he walks by. Bucky, Sam and Steve follow him out, making sure he leaves while Natasha stays with Y/N. 

“That was incredible! You really gave that asshole what he deserved.” She grins. Y/N doesn’t feel incredible though. In fact, she feels like shit. After being on such a high from the concert and finally letting her emotions out in song, suddenly being confronted with Dylan and being reminded of just how little he cares about her is breaking her all over again. Her bottom lip trembles and her vision blurs. Shit.

“I’m sorry Nat, I-I have to go. I’ll be on the bus if you need me. I just. I need to be alone.” She stammers, her words coming out in a rush. She doesn’t even give Natasha time to reply before she hurriedly leaves the venue and climbs back onto the bus, crawling into her bunk and huddling into the corner. As soon as she knows it’s safe, her tears are unleashed, and she shakes as tears stream down her cheeks. She wraps her blanket around her, hoping it hides her from the world.

Y/N lays there for what feels like hours until the door to the bus opens again. “Who is it?” She calls, her voice croaky. 

“It’s just me.” Bucky replies. As soon as she hears his voice, it feels like a weight has been lifted off of Y/N’s shoulders, and she lets out a breath of relief. “I know you said you want to be alone, but we just want to make sure that you’re okay.” She turns around, looking into the pair of blue eyes she knows so well. The pair belonging to the man she loves. When he sees her tear-stained face, Bucky sighs. “Oh, Y/N.” She holds out her arms, and without another word, Bucky climbs in beside her, wrapping his tattooed arms around her still shaking form. 

He lets her cry into his chest for as long as she needs, rubbing her back and whispering comforting words into her ear. “It’s okay. He’s gone. We got rid of him.”

“I’m sorry.” She hiccups. Bucky looks down at her, frowning.

“Y/N, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Yet, she sniffles, nodding.

“I do. I care about you so much. You’re so kind to me, and I’d love to be with you. In all honesty, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. But I ruined everything between us because of him.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, sweetheart.” Bucky soothes. “You’ve been through a lot, and nobody would judge you for being wary about dating again.” He kisses her head, his stubble lightly grazing her skin. Y/N feels that same flutter in her stomach again, this time amplified. He finds her hand again, intertwining his calloused fingers with hers once more. He brings her hand to his lips, kissing it softly. “It’s going to be big and scary, but we can take things as slow as you want. All I want is for you to be happy and comfortable.” And as she looks back up at him, Y/N realises that he’s right. Maybe she shouldn’t be scared, and actually let herself be happy again, with someone like Bucky.

“Okay.” She nods. Bucky smiles, softly kissing her on the lips. 

“How about I take you out tomorrow? Properly.”

“Where do you wanna go?” Bucky smiles, chuckling slightly.

“Well, we’re in New York, aren’t we? Like I said…I know a restaurant.”

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[misshoneybee]

All the Nicest Places - CEO!Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Reader // II. Rue de Bonaparte

Rating: Explicit (18+ Minors, DNI!!!) Other Links: ao3 Wordcount: ~6.4k Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Content Warnings: mature language, explicit sexual content, (daddy kink, dirty talk, age difference (he's forty-five, you're twenty-three), use of pet names (petal, doll, princess, etc.), bit of a dom/sub dynamic, vaginal sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, kind of a threesome (mfm), cuckolding?, a little impact play, fingering, teasing, oral sex (m and f-rec), squirting, overstimulation, orgasm delay/denial, dacryphilia, creampie, little bit of cumplay)

PART I: PARK AVENUE

Who knew you could go to Paris twice?

AN: My readers are AFAB but otherwise, I do my best to stay inclusive! Please let me know if there's anything I can do to improve. The title is from ‘I Don't Wanna Live Forever’ by Taylor Swift and Zayn and the divider is from firefly-graphics. Brevity is not my strong suit so here's ~2.1k words of exposition and ~4.3k of smut. I'm not sure how much I love this because it's my first time writing a threesome so, unlike Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rogers, please be gentle. Also, this wasn't beta'd or proofread so all mistakes are my own. Enjoy, lovelies! xx, 🥰 gif credit: xx

A soft moan was pulled from your lips as noises from the living room bled into the bedroom through the aged, wooden door. Squeezing your eyes shut, savoring the last few moments of sleep as you blocked out the warm sun, you pulled the duvet tighter around yourself, burrowing deep into the luxurious cushion of down pillows and cashmere blankets that still smelled like Steve.

It had almost been a week but the jetlag hadn’t been kind to your body; nine in the morning still felt suspiciously like the middle of the night to your unacclimated circadian rhythm. With university on break for the season, you hadn’t thought twice about accepting Steve’s invitation to trot across the globe. It was time for his annual visit to his international properties and you’d have been remiss to reject it. You couldn’t have, even if you’d wanted to (which, of course, you didn’t.)

People just didn’t say no to Steve Rogers. 

It was a beautiful townhouse that towered just slightly over its neighbors, not far from the Seine, with six ornate bedrooms, almost as many bathrooms, and a clear view of the district from all of the windows that flooded the home with mid-morning light. You couldn’t help but feel a little out of place despite Steve insisting that you could have, or do, whatever you wished. The old walls did little to muffle the deep voice that you’d grown to know all too well as Steve crossed the living room, getting closer to the French doors of the master suite.

It was a beautiful townhouse that towered just slightly over its neighbors, not far from the Seine, with six ornate bedrooms, almost as many bathrooms, and a clear view of the district from all of the windows that flooded the home with mid-morning light. You couldn’t help but feel a little out of place despite Steve insisting that you could have, or do, whatever you wished. The old walls did little to muffle the deep voice that you’d grown to know all too well as Steve crossed the living room, getting closer to the French doors of the master suite.

Sitting up, the soft blankets pooled around your waist as you rubbed the sleep from your bleary eyes, allowing an uninhibited yawn to rattle your chest. His voice was low as he turned door handle, “Ferme ta gueule, Batroc.” With a dark look in his eyes, you heard him mutter before forcefully hanging up the call, “Vous avez deux jours.”

As he opened the doors completely, slipping his phone into his back pocket, his eyes softened as they met yours, “Bonjour, ma chérie.” Leaning over, he pressed a short kiss to your lips as he carefully handed you your coffee before slipping back into bed beside you.

As long as you’d known him, he’d been a morning person. He was almost ready for the day, showered with still slightly damp hair and a freshly trimmed beard. It seemed as though he’d gotten a bit of a delayed start; you’d both been up a little late the night before.

You wished you could feel bad, but you didn’t.

He dragged you into his side, the corner of his mouth ticking up at the giggle that was pulled from your lips, “Merci beaucoup, monsieur.”

“Mm, look at you. Just like a local.” He grinned down at you.

Rolling your eyes good-naturedly, you took a sip of the creamy, too-sweet coffee drink you adored as he twirled a lock of your hair around his finger absentmindedly. Poking his side, you murmured, “Who was that on the phone?”

“No one for you to worry about, petal.” Steve dismissed airily. He never liked talking business with you and you could never quite tell whether that was a good or bad thing. Was it that he just wanted to keep you separate from that part of your life or that he didn’t trust you? You knew it had a lot to do with real estate and investment…and that was about the extent of your knowledge on his business endeavors. “C’mere.”

You squeaked, carefully placing your cup of coffee on the nightstand as he easily pulled you on to his lap, pressing a kiss to your almost bare shoulder before burrowing his face in your neck. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you had to bite your lip to keep youself from saying the three words that always teased the tip of your tongue.

“How do you look so good in the morning…” Steve groaned, nonethewiser as his lips trailed a line of soft, warm kisses from the tender spot just below your ear. He followed the column of your neck, before pushing the strap of your nightie off your shoulder and continuing down.

“Steve…” Your eyes fluttered shut, your fingers tightening in his hair as he mouthed at the swell of your breasts, the soft hair of his beard tickling your warm skin. Pulling the lace-line fabric down further, his tongue traced a circle around your pebbled bud slowly before taking it in his mouth.

Mornings like this were your favorite; slow kisses and lazy caresses as you rolled around in bed with his phone on silent as you escaped the world. Your eyes popped open as you tried to pull back, his flat hand on your back making it impossible as you spoke through a moan, “Wait—“

The pout on his pink lips was almost comical as he detached himself from your body, almost whining, “Baby, let me say good morning…”

His hand that rested on your lap lifted the satin hem slowly, a sparkle in his ocean blue eyes. Slapping his hand gently, you stifled your smile as you laced your fingers together, “Don’t you have a meeting?” Your brows drew together; his schedule had been the same every week day since arriving in the city and it was only Friday, “You can’t be late.”

“I rearranged my schedule.” Leaning back against the headboard, his thumb rubbed small circles on your hip as he chuckled at your innocently confused expression, “That’s what that call was about. I figured, I brought you the whole way to Paris, it wouldn’t be fair to keep you cooped up here.”

Rearranging yourself to straddle his lap, you slipped your arms around his neck as a smile slowly spread across your face, “What do you mean?”

“We have the whole weekend. Shopping, museums, whatever you want—“

With wide eyes, you sat up straighter, taking his face in your hands as you bounced excitedly, forcing a groan from his lips as you squealed, stumbling over your words, “The Louvre?” You gasped, “Or the Musée d'Orsay? It has more Van Gogh but the Louvre has more historically rel—”

Shaking his head, he moved to capture your lips in a slow kiss to interrupt your deluge of excitement but was stopped with one of your smaller hands over his mouth. An entertained, albeit puzzled, look crossed his face as you explained with a wrinkled nose as if it was obvious, “I have morning breath.”

Removing your hand, he murmured, “And I don’t care.” Returning to his intended target, his tongue brushed against yours languidly, the taste of coffee and mint that was meant to cover up the scent of tobacco from the cigarettes you hated mixed together and made you dizzy.

Finally pulling back, he chuckled, answering your initial inquiry, “The Louvre, the Musée d'Orsay, anywhere you want, petal.” 

His lips began to trail down your body as you grinned, “Anywhere?”

With a wink, he quickly maneuvered you on to your back and nodded, rolling your panties down your legs with a grin, “Anywhere.”

By some miracle, you’d made it out of Steve’s townhouse before noon. Two rounds in bed, bookending a third in the shower, you’d had to peel yourself off of him from where you were tangled in the warm sheets. You weren’t certain who really was the insatiable one; perhaps you both shared the title.

With intertwined fingers and a pair of large sunglasses obscuring your face, you’d made your way down the street to cross the Seine. Your heels clicked quietly against the sidewalk, the rhythm comforting as you traversed the city. The old, stone building facades with wrought iron accents and steep roofs felt so romantic as you meandered down the sidewalks you’d become well acquainted with. The location of his home was central to everything you wanted to see in the city; museums, restaurants, galleries—so many galleries. You’d be heartbroken when you eventually had to leave. 

The Louvre was everything you’d ever imagined; it was an art history major’s dream. The Mona Lisa, Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss, The Coronation of Napoleon, Liberty Leading the People—things you’d only ever read about but suddenly, they were right in front of you and your breath was taken away. 

“She’s beautiful.” You exhaled, your eyes tracing the white Parian marble as you squeezed Steve’s hand. 

The way the stone fell like draped fabric made you yearn to touch it. You couldn’t remember ever seeing anything so breathtaking. 

Unable to stem your excitement, the words fell from you lips quickly, “Did you know that they’re not even certain it’s Aphrodite? It’s just an assumption because of how she looks. If we knew what her hands were doing, we’d have a better idea. They actually found fragments of them when they discovered her but they just tossed them away—like trash! Can you believe that?” 

The corner of Steve’s lips ticked up at your excitement as he listened intently. He’d been to the museum dozens of time but something about being there with you felt like seeing everything again for the first time.

“She could have been Amphitrite since she was found on Milos or—“ 

Before you could go off on a tangent about France’s loss of the Venus de Medici prior to the Venus de Milo’s discovery in the early nineteenth century, you were interrupted by a smooth, low voice from behind you. It sounded like silk and honey and made you feel warm in the pit of your stomach; you had to suppress a shiver that threatened to wrack your body.

“Rogers, good to see you.”

Steve’s hand on the small of your back was firm as you both turned to face the familiar man. You hadn’t seen Mr. Barnes since the Stark Industries party in New York a few months before, since Steve had made that little quip that still made you blush when you thought about it too long.

“Is it?” Steve asked cooly, raising a half-amused brow, “Because I heard you were sniffing around that building in the seventh. Figured you knew I was here signing the contract this week.”

“Mm, you know the rumor mill these days.” Mr. Barnes’s lips twisted into wry smile as he gave Steve a noncommital shrug before offering a hand. Giving it a firm shake, he turned his sights on you, his grin widening lasciviously. “Lovely to see you again.”

Leaning in, he brushed a kiss against each of your cheeks and your breath caught in your throat as the scent of his cologne overwhelmed your senses and made you weak in the knees. It was dark and smoky, leathery and warm with a whisper of spice that reminded you of dusk, and you could feel Steve’s eyes burning into your back as your hands lingered on his biceps just a moment too long.

Your ass was going to pay for that later.

Stepping back closer to Steve’s side, you could feel your cheeks growing warm as you gave the other man a coy nod, “You as well, Mr. Barnes.”

“You can call me James, doll.” He didn’t have to be so charming but you could feel yourself being pulled in to his orbit. Steve’s arm around your waist tightened as James continued on, as if he wasn’t there, “Have you been enjoying the city?”

Looking around the cavernous Greek antiquities room, there was wonder in your eyes as you nodded slowly, a breathless smile on your face, “It’s beautiful. I adore it here.”

“You’re one to talk about beauty.” His voice was low, thick and sweet like molassas, and you squeezed your thighs together as a bolt of electricity zapped the pit of your stomach. His eyes trailed down your body, tracing the way your dress fell so perfectly over your curves.

“Thank you.” You murmured shyly, biting back a smile at his quick remark that you were certain sent Steve burning.

“As fun as this has been, we should be going.” Steve cleared his throat, giving Mr. Barnes a dark, almost competitive look as he tugged you closer to his side, a possessive hand splayed over your hip. With a curt nod to the other man, he began to guide you out of the wing, “Barnes.”

“Rogers.” James nodded cooly.

Unable to leave well enough alone, you peered over your shoulder to find James’s eyes focused squarely on your ass. With a sparkle in your eyes, and a flirty little smirk painted on your glossy lips, you called back melodiously, “Goodbye, James.”

You always did have a penchant for punishment. 

Biting his lip, he gave you one last slow look up and down, “See you around, princess.”

On one hand, you were grateful that Steve had waited until you’d finished your appointment at Hermes and had returned home. On the other, you were pretty certain that those extra two hours had only served to fester his jealousy, making the green vines twist around him tightly until there was no where else left for his feelings to go.

As you’d looked through bags and shoes, he’d typed away aggressively on his phone, only looking up to give his opinion when you asked and to hand over his black card to the sales associate.

Now, your new Birkin had been tossed thoughtlessly on the floor of Steve’s home office. The smooth camel leather and thousands of dollars worth of gold hardware winked up at you from the ground where it had a front seat to Steve’s defilement of you.

“Daddy, fuck—“ You whined, clutching his arms that were wound tightly around your waist. The buttons of his half-undone shirt rubbed against the sensitive skin of your bare back as he pounded into you from below, his mouth on your neck as you whimpered at the sensation of him easily slipping in and out of your wet cunt.

He’d ripped your dress off almost as soon as the door had shut behind you. You’d already come twice and when Steve got like this, there was no telling when he’d stop.

“That feel good baby?” He groaned, slowing his thrusts to gentle rolls that made you desperate for more. One of his hands pressed hard against your lower abdomen and you wiggled fruitlessly against his body. He could always tell when you were getting close.

“Uh-huh…” You whispered, rocking your hips as best as you could, your eyes fluttering shut. Your thighs were hooked over his, spread wide by his legs with no hope of moving, because he knew you got squirmy after orgasm number two and he wasn’t done playing with his baby girl yet.

One of his hands drifted from playing with your puckered nipple to dipping into your heat beside his cock, making you let out a choked moan at the stretch as he gathered some of your wetness and slowly circled around your swollen clit, “What’s that, petal? You like when daddy plays with this pretty little clit, don’t you?”

You hummed in response, your back arching as you prayed for more. Your eyes shot open at the sharp sting from a gentle slap to your tender nub, pulling a whine from your lips as your nails dug into his arms. You could feel the exhale of a silent laugh against your neck before he groaned at the way your walls clenched around him, “Out loud, baby.”

“Yes, oh fuck—“ You whimpered out, reaching one hand back to tangle in his hair as you rode him. A muffled noise from down the hall broke you from your reverie; your mind was hazy but you were almost certain that you’d heard something.

It wouldn’t be the first time one of Steve’s housekeepers had walked in on the two of you. Despite the dizzying endorphins that swam in your head, your hips stilled as you murmured, “Wait, what was that?”

“Shh…” Steve acquiesced, his fingers trailing slow circles around your clit once more as he shushed you. His cock gave a little twitch as his balls nestled snugly against you and he groaned quietly, “Just be a good girl for daddy, petal. Keep bouncing on my cock…”

As if you were a doll, his hands found purchase on your hips as he easily held you still and hammered into you from below. Your hands left his arms, trailing over your soft skin before finding purchase on your breasts that bounced with each hard thrust.

Toying with your nipples, you let out a gasp when the tip of his cock nudged that special spot deep inside that sent sparks shooting through your body as you keened, “Love your cock so much—“

It was like static filled your ears as he spread your legs even wider, pulling your hips back in to his before a quiet, smirking voice crossed the room, “Glad to see we have similar definitions of taking meetings at home.”

As your eyes shot open and met a pair of slightly familiar icy blue ones, you felt yourself shatter as your orgasm shook your body. You could feel your juices soaking Steve’s lap as you writhed in his arms, crying out as he continued toying with your sensitive button.

Whimpering, your limbs felt like lead, “Daddy—oh god!”

You felt your face grow warm as Mr. Barnes caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes not leaving your squirming body. As you came down, you tried to cover yourself to no avail as Steve kept your arms pinned by your sides, his lips brushing over your shoulder as he let out a low, dark chuckle, speaking to the tall man who’d leaned against the wall, watching you both with darkened eyes, “Took you long enough.”

Mr. Barnes—James—gave a nonchalant shrug, his eyes not leaving yours, “Had to tie up a few loose ends.”

If you weren’t already bare, his gaze would have made you feel like you were. Swallowing, trying to remedy your dry throat, your voice broke, “Steve—“

“Is that my name, baby?” One of his hands drifted up your sternum, settling against the soft skin of your neck like a collar, not adding any pressure but ensuring you kept staring at James. His hot breath on your ear made you shiver as he groaned, “Fuck, you’re dripping, petal. You like this. Don’t you? You like his eyes on you, dirty girl?”

“Daddy...” You whispered, your entire body growing hot at the attention focused on you. As you caught your breath, Steve’s fingers spread your folds open, giving your voyeur a perfect look at his cock still pressed deep inside your hole.

“Fuck, Rogers.” Mr. Barnes groaned, a deep pained sound stuck in his throat as he watched Steve’s glistening fingers spread you wide. Slowly crossing the room to where you were still perched on Steve’s lap, on his desk, he asked lowly, “How do you get any work done with that tight little cunt waiting for you?”

You swallowed, trying to remedy your dry throat as a chuckle rumbled Steve’s chest that was pressed against your back.

Taking your chin between his thumb and finger, Mr. Barnes tilted your face up to look at him. The smirk hadn’t left his face as he brushed a thumb over the cushion of your bite-swollen lower lip, tugging it down just barely.

You could feel yourself shaking; terror and excitement always felt the same.

Raising a brow, Mr. Barnes murmured quietly, “You like being used like his little fucktoy, princess?”

The word got stuck in your throat so you nodded dumbly.

“Answer him, petal.” Steve hummed in your ear, his teeth tugging your lobe gently.

“Y-yes.” You whispered.

A sharp sting on your cheek sent a spark through your body, lighting up every nerve as Mr. Barnes’ hand soothed the site of its assault. You felt a rush of wetness between your legs but Steve’s legs kept yours spread wide despite your need to rub your thighs together, seeking more pleasure.

James’s voice was lower when he corrected you, “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.” You sniffled, feeling over exposed as Steve pulled you tigher against his body with a low groan.

“Fuck, Barnes. Should’ve felt the way she squeezed me when you did that.”

Your whimper was muffled as Bucky slipped his thumb into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed around his digit without a second thought, your tongue swirling around it as you silently begged for something more between your lips with a sated little hum.

“Would you like that, baby?” Steve prompted you and you felt your heartbeat quicken. You knew you could say a single word and end everything but—fuck, you didn’t want to.

“You want Mr. Barnes to play with your sweet, little pussy?” He continued, taunting you before a whine was pulled from your throat, finally nodding your consent. His hands on your hips lifted you from his lap easily, setting you gently on the edge of his desk as he knelt behind you. You whined at the loss of his length filling you, your walls clenching, unsatisfied.

Removing his thumb from where it was pressed heavily against your tongue, James easily shed his suit jacket, folding it in half before draping it over the back of one of the antique leather chairs that decorated Steve’s office.

His eyes stayed trained on you as he listened to Steve tick off his rules, speaking around you.

“You can touch her. Finger her. Fuck her.” His large hands spread you wide for his adversary’s eyes, as he continued with a little smirk, “She’s insatiable. When she’s crying, fuck—that’s when you know it’s just getting good. You can come anywhere but inside her pussy. That belongs to me.”

His jaw worked before he lowly added, “And if she says ‘empire,’ you stop. I don’t give a shit what’s going on, you stop and get the fuck out. Got it?”

“Got it.” James stalked back towards the desk like a wolf, tracking it prey, dismissively waving Steve off as his full attention returned to you. Cupping your cheek with an unfound gentleness, he asked quietly, “Would you like that, princess? You want me to touch you?”

Before he could finish his question, you were nodding, your body shaking with excitement, “Yes, please, sir. Need you to touch me…”

James’s hands skated down your body as Steve held your thighs apart. The other man’s thumb ghosted over your clit before tugging the little hood back gently, tsk-ing as he watched your glistening cunt clench around nothing, silently begging for it to be filled again.

“Fuck, look at that pretty hole drooling for me.” He groaned, his thumb barely pressing into it slowly as your head tilted back, bracing yourself on the desk with your weak arms. “Did your daddy stretch you open for me, princess? Get you all ready to take my cock too?”

With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you nodded. You could feel a bead of wetness trailing from your entrance to your puckered hole and shivered. Steve’s heavy hands slid up your body, toying with your breasts. His thumbs brushed over the pebbled skin of your nipples before tugging them, rolling them between his fingers and pinching them teasingly.

Undoing his belt slowly, James’s crystalline eyes trailed over your bare form, “Been thinking about you all day, pretty girl. How cute and innocent you looked in that little white dress this afternoon. How you must be all sweet and shy…” With a little smirk, his warm hands gripped your hips and tugged you closer to the desk’s edge as a squeak was pulled from your lips.

“Turns out you’re just a little cock-hungry slut, aren’t you?”

You knew the nod you gave was unsastifactory when he gently pinched your clit between his thumb and finger, forcing a pathetic whine from your lips as you quickly corrected, “Oh fuck—yes, sir!”

“Good girl.” He cooed. His thumb brushed over your swollen nub soothingly as he nodded to your side, “Now, how ‘bout you keep your daddy’s cock warm with that slutty fucking mouth of yours while I play with this cute little cunt.”

You hadn’t even noticed Steve moving to your side, pumping his length that hung heavily between his built thighs, still glistening with your pleasure. Your brain was still fuzzy from the several orgasms Steve had given you earlier; your attention kept wondering.

Nodding obediently, you went to work. Using your tongue to wet your hand, you leaned back and allowed it to take over for his, opening your mouth slowly as Steve’s hand brushed against your cheek, guiding his cock to your lips and tapping his leaking tip against your tongue as James knelt between your legs.

“Fuck, baby. Look how used this pussy is…” His thumbs spread your lips apart, running over them soothingly as he muttered, “So swollen and puffy… Let me help, princess.”

A drag of his tongue from your hole to your clit made your hips jolt before they were forced back down onto the cool wood by his large hands, “Oh—“

Your exclamation was prevented by Steve thrusting into your mouth fully, his tip brushing the back of your throat, forcing a gag from you. His hand rested on the back of your head, guiding your mouth up and down his length as his head dropped back. With a gasp for breath, you pulled off of his cock, your hand replacing your mouth, jerking him off unevenly, as your other hand drifted between your thighs, tangling in James’s hair.

His talented tongue trailed around your clit as he easily slipped two fingers into your soaked entrance; you swore you could feel the smirk on his lips as you whined out his name.

Steve’s fingers tightening in your hair forced your attention back to him where your hand had slowed, overwhelmed with all of the new sensations that came with splitting your attention between the two men. Your tongue traced the prominent vein on the underside of his cock before finally reaching his tip where a bead of precum leaked from his slit. Giving it a little, teasing kitten lick, you giggled as his adam’s apple bobbed and a moan was pulled from his throat.

Wrapping your lips around its ruddy, swollen head, you moaned as the salty taste coated your tongue. You always loved sucking his cock.

Your hips bucked against James’ mouth as he sped up his ministrations and he hooked his arms around your thighs, spreading them over his broad shoulders as his tongue continued lashing over your clit, sucking it and gently grazing his teeth over the little bundle of nerves.

“You’re doing so well, petal.” Steve cooed as you whined around his length, your hand working what you couldn’t take down your throat. “Your mouth feels like sin…”

Removing your swollen, spit-soaked lips from him with a pop, you murmured brokenly, “Thank you, Daddy…”

“Princess, such a naughty girl. You’re fucking soaked for us.” James licked another languid stripe from your leaking entrance to the sensitive button of your little clit and you squirmed fruitlessly in his arms as his teeth grazed it gently. Looking up at you from under his dark lashes, the two fingers in your hole curled up, brushing that spongey little patch that made you see stars.

Watching the little ring of your cream form around the base of his fingers, he taunted against your sex, “You like having two of us? You like having all the attention on you, baby?”

“Yes, sir!” You cried out, your hips rocking against his digits needily.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet. Such a perfect little slut, aren’t you?” He traced the tip of his tongue around your clit before sucking hard then soft, letting go and repeating the movement over and over. He could feel your body tensing as your orgasm quickly approached, your thighs quivering at the added stimulation from his thick fingers.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, feeling the wave building low in your tummy as your eyes watered and struggled to stay open, “Can I...” Taking a shaky breath, trying to keep your crest at bay, lest you receive a punishment for coming without permission, you whimpered. Your eyes found Steve’s, a little pout on your lips as you begged, “Daddy, I need to come. Can I? Please? Need it so bad…”

You broke off with a half-stifled moan as a shiver was sent up your spine.

“I’m not the one you should be asking, petal.” Steve grinned as he watched you struggle to hold back the pleasure that was already coursing through your body.

“Please—Mr. Barnes,” You sat up slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows. Spotting him worshipping between your thighs, your breath quickening as you begged, “May I come? Your tongue feels so good. I—fuck, please?”

“Look at you asking for permission. Seems like your daddy trained you well.” You could only whine in response and he grinned. His fingers pistoning in and out of you, pulsing harder and harder against your g-spot with each quick thrust.

Granting you grace, he nodded, his jaw clenched tightly as he groaned, feeling your walls flutter around his digits as a little trickle of your juices leaked out around his fingers. Swearing under his breath, one of his hands pressed against your lower belly as he murmured, “Go ahead, sweetheart. Let me see this sweet little cunt squirt for me.”

At his permission, you finally felt the dam break as a loud moan was pulled from your lips. Arching your back, unsure if you were trying to shy away from his touch or get more of it, you felt the wave crest and crash as several short bursts of clear fluid came from your fluttering hole.

“Shit…” He groaned as you came down, smearing some of your wetness over your already glistening folds. Unzipping his trousers as he stood, James shoved them down only far enough to pull himself from the confines of the tight boxer-briefs that hugged his built thighs.

You felt a lump in your throat as your wide eyes zeroed in on his length. Long and thick, it was painfully hard and ready for you as it rested against the light dusting of hair that trailed down his stomach before he choked it tightly in his hand.

You knew you were quite a sight—mascara smudged down your cheeks, lipstick smeared from your mouth—but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you wiggled closer to the edge of the desk, situating yourself exactly where he wanted. Your knees eagerly fell open wider.

To the side, you could see Steve watching you, his hand working his lipstick stained length as James toyed with you. There was a silent smirk on his lips as he watched your hips give a little restless twitch, knowing exactly what you craved.

Maybe it felt a little dirty, him watching you get fucked by another man, but not more than it felt good.

Your head spun as James easily lifted you from the desk, turning you to face it instead. Without needing his instruction, your propped yourself up on your forearms as you arched your back, silently begging as you stuck your ass out for him. The cool wood brushed against your puckered nipples and you let out a soft whimper at the feeling against your burning skin.

“I gotta have you wrapped around my cock, baby…”

It was only a moment before he lined himself up with your sore entrance, dragging his tip up and down your dripping slit to spread the wetness around. Holding your hips firmly, he sank into your tight channel in one, smooth stroke with a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he bottomed out, his hips flush against your ass.

Your arms buckled at the sensation of being filled so completely, your nails scraping against the lacquered wood as he wasted no time before pulling out and shoving himself back in, setting a punishing rhythm that made you feel dizzy.

“How are you still so fuckin’ tight,” He punctuated his last few words with hard thrusts that took your breath away, “when I know you’re just your daddy’s little whore?”

“What do you say, petal?” Steve smirked at your wide eyes that fluttered shut as a soft whimper was pulled from your mouth.

“Thank you, sir.” Your cheek pressed against the cool top of the desk as your vision blurred with pleasure; James lifted one of your legs on to the desk, opening yourself wider for him as his hips snapped punishingly, his heavy balls smacking against your sensitive nub with each thrust.

“Oh fuck, da—sir—James…” Your mind had all but melted, your words slurring together.

“Look at you shaking.” His chuckle was dark but his movements never stopped as you mewled, all but climbing the desk to try and escape the overwhelming sensation. “This too much for you, doll?”

Your nod and whimper made his dick twitch as he split you open, slowing as he grinded into your cunt. Leaning over you, almost covering your body with his, his breath was hot as he whispered into your ear with a cheshire grin, “Too fucking bad, princess. I know you can take it…”

“Please, daddy…” You couldn’t see the way Steve’s eyes darkened as the title slipped from your lips. It wasn’t as if you could even apologize; your head was floating too high above the clouds in pleasure.

Leaning back, he reached down and toyed with your clit, forcing a whine from your lips as he watched his cock disappear into your body, glistening with your slick each time he drew it out, “Fuck, look at the way your little pussy is stretching around me.”

He groaned, returning to his hammering rhythm as he felt himself growing closer to his own edge. Holding your hips still, he grunted, “I can see why you kept her away from us, Rogers.”

Steve clicked his tongue, his eyes trained on the way your abused pussy gripped James’s cock as he slowly stroked himself, “Nothing changes after tonight, Barnes. You walk out of here and she’s still mine.” Landing a smack against the bouncy flesh of your ass, he squeezed gently, teasing, “Do you need to come again, petal?”

Heat from Steve’s handprint spread under your skin and you gasped. Bucky’s thumb that was still laser focused on rubbing tight circles around your clit forced you closer to another precipice, your voice breathy as you begged, “Yes, please…”

“Get on the desk, princess.” You whined at the loss of James’ length, and your impending orgasm, but you were spun around and lifted on to the desk before you realized, your head spinning at the sudden change in position.

Spreading your legs for him, your teeth dug into your bottom lip to muffle a whimper as one of his hands played with your clit while the other pumped his cock easily with the wetness you’d left on it. With a low groan, he came over your folds in slow, thick spurts and you felt your walls clench around nothing as his warm spend mingled with the wetness that clung to your skin.

You didn’t have time to catch your breath before suddenly, a pair of strong hands turned you. Steve spread your thighs and buried himself in your warmth in one, quick stroke; you let out a gasp as he filled you perfectly, “Oh!”

“Shit, baby. I just need to finish inside this tight little pussy…” He found a fast rhythm, knowing you both felt the tension growing low in your stomachs, the coil tightening as you tried to hold off your pleasure, “Love to feel this little cunt squeezin’ around me—you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes…” You nodded breathlessly, his forehead pressed to yours as he locked eyes with you, his pupils eclipsing the seafoam irises that you always fell into.

Cupping your cheek, he traced his thumb over your swollen lip, taunting quietly, “You didn’t forget about Daddy, did you? Not when Mr. Barnes was in your pussy?”

“No, daddy!” Your thighs tightened around his hips, your body begging for more from him. Shaking your head, you moaned as he hit your g-spot over and over, making your toes curl, “Love your cock so much. Always need it so bad…”

“You need me to fill you up, petal? Remind you who you really belong to?”

“Only you, daddy…” You nodded, rocking your hips against his fruitlessly as you tried to hasten the release that you’d been denied, “Please?”

“That’s right, baby.” Steve grinned, a hand on the back of your head pulling you close so he could crash his lips to yours. His tongue twisted with yours and he let out a low groan into your mouth as your cunt began to flutter around him, “You coming again already? Good girl. Love this sweet little pussy, wrapped around me so fuckin’ tight. Go ahead, petal. One more time. Come on my cock, let me feel you squeeze for me. Show me who you belong to, baby. Show daddy who you belong to…”

His words made you forget you weren’t alone.

You felt your legs shaking as he ground his pubic bone carefully against your clit, forcing the coil deep in your stomach to finally snap. You both watched where your bodies were joined as your nails dug into his shoulders and your hips jerked. Squeezing your eyes shut as stars burst in your vision, you felt yourself squirt once again, soaking his cock as he gave one final thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

His length pulsed as emptied himself into your sensitive cunt, your walls pulsing over and over as they milked his cock. Finally, drawing himself out, he hummed low and watched with dark eyes as the white, pearlescent cream slipped from your channel. Using his thumb, he guided your combined spend back inside of your hole.

Squirming did nothing to get him away from your overstimulated sex and you were too exhausted to do anything more than whimper at his touch as the aftershocks wracked your body. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he cooed softly, “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Look at you, holding on to my cum just like that…”

His hand cupped your cheek as you slurred out, sore but sated with a blissful smile, “Thank you, daddy…”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pressed a uncharacteristically soft kiss to your swollen lips, “You’re welcome, petal.”

The way his tongue moved with yours was languorous and you sighed discontentedly once he withdrew his lips, wanting more.

Easily picking you up from where you’d been sat against the cool wood of his desk, Steve smiled as you buried your face in his neck, taking a deep breath of the clean cologne that still clung to his skin from that morning. Your lips brushed against his throat affectionately and you could feel his mouth tilt up into a little smile from where it was pressed to the top of your hair.

Zipping up his trousers, already half-hard again, James shook his head and grabbed his jacket, folding it over his arm like he was leaving a business meeting rather than having just fucked you hard and fast, “You’re a lucky son of a bitch, Rogers.”

Calling over his shoulder, already carrying you down the hall to your shared room, Steve shot back with a grin, “And don’t I know it.”

[shayyprasad]

SHAY'S 100 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION!

you're invited! to celebrate 100 followers (small milestone, but it's still something), i'll write fics and blurbs that have hot men in them for you! scroll down to find this party's agenda...

this will take place from febuary 21st, 2024 to march 31, 2024!

THESE ARE ALL X READERS!

the guestlist! pick a character down below!

-tom holland + co (nathan drake, peter parker, arvin russel)

-zendaya + co (michelle jones)

-miscellaneous characters: bucky barnes, loki, steve rogers, stucky, tony stark, miles morales, doctor strange, peter quill, eddie brock

the menu! pick a something to go along with your character! make sure to pick a genre when you send in an ask (fluff, angst, flangst, could be a lil spicy but no nsfw!)

-character from a guestlist and a dialougue prompt from this list or this list... make sure to specify who's doing it!

-character from guestlist and an action prompt from this list or this list... make sure to specify who's doing it!

-character from the guestlist paired with an au... action/dialougue prompt is optional (venom!reader, blackcat!reader, cop!peter, actress/singer!reader, etc).

rules and regulations! just a few things to mention...

-no nsfw/smut!

-specify a genre (fluff, angst, flangst) please!

-when you send in a request, even more so for the au, please give a little summary!

-i mostly write for marvel characters, (aside from arvin russell and nathan drake) so if you send in one of those, you'll be more likely to get a better, longer fic. this includes michelle jones, peter parker, zendaya, tom holland, arvin russell, and bucky barnes, but you don't have to.

note from the author!

little late on the 100 follower... we're closer to 150 now! thank you to all the people that have liked, followed, and reblogged! also, i only write for fem!reader and gn!reader. when requesting, please pick one. keep in mind, my default is fem!reader. i try to stay inclusive for everyone, but if you want short!reader, tall!reader, or anything of the sort, please tell me!

ask to be added to the taglist, and check out my full masterlist here...

works from this event!

taglist @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Bucky Barnes One Shots

Bucky Barnes Main Masterlist

A/N: all reader inserts are female unless otherwise stated. These are as inclusive as possible and only description that may be included is if reader has hair (mostly used in rough smut scenes).   KEY: ⁂ = smut † = death ⨮ =angst ꕥ = fluff ⧻ = 500+ notes

The Ransom ⁂ ⧻ ➴ Sassy reader gets rescued by boyfriend!Bucky and Avengers Whiteout ⁂ ⧻ ➴ Friends to lovers trope, mission extraction gone wrong, PWP Sick Day ꕥ ⧻ ➴ Bucky takes care of you when you are sick Fix You ⁂ ꕥ ➴ You take care of CW!Bucky after a nightmare Equal Opportunist ⁂ ➴ Assassin!Bucky keeps killing your marks so you have sex with him, PWP Sex-Ed ⧻ ➴ You fumble your way through teaching sex-ed with Bucky watching The Ghost Of You || AudioBook ➴ After the blip you have to survive the heartache without Bucky Postpartum Depression  ➴ Bucky helps you at your lowest, read warnings and tags Silver Tongue ➴ You break your rules to save Bucky End of the Line † ➴ Steve dies of old age in your care  Fall From Grace ⁂ ➴ MFF threesome, angel-turned-demon reader You Don’t Own Me  † || Dark!Winter Soldier ➴ No happy endings here, read warnings and tags 10 Little Lies ➴ Friends to lovers trope, a drunken night ends with Bucky in your bed  Eggplant Emoji ꕥ ➴ Bucky takes matters into his own hands when you struggle with modern dating. Good Behaviour ⁂ || ft. Baron Helmut Zemo ➴ The Baron sets you up a new Dom, Bucky, for when he is sent back to prison. Hacked ꕥ⨮ ➴ Your phone gets hacked and intimate files get threatened to be shared Obscene Behaviour ꕥ|| Platonic / Sam & Bucky ➴ Your coffee date with your friends takes a turn when you feed your newborn. She Knows ⁂ ⧻ ➴ You activate a new kink as you tease your boyfriend from across the bar. By Your Side ꕥ ➴ Bucky takes care of you when you are sick. Not Enough ꕥ ➴ Friends to lovers trope. When Worlds Collide ꕥ ➴ Your life changes completely when you and Bucky collide. Babysitting Bucky ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You are partnered with Bucky and he is not happy with the arrangement Control & Comfort ⁂ ꕥ ⧻ ➴ Bucky has a rough day and takes it out in your p*ssy Plié or Pliable ⁂ || Widow!reader ➴ Bucky watches you practicing ballet and wants to know how flexible you are.  A Change Of Season ⨮ ⁂ || Widow!reader ➴ You are reunited with Bucky after Nat frees you from the Red Room, but it’s not what you expected Better Late Than Never ⁂ || Bucky, Steve, Natasha x reader ➴ You come home to find the party started without you. Takeout ꕥ ➴ You try to make a home cooked meal but it doesn’t go to plan Nightmares ⁂ || SamBucky ➴ When you wake to find Bucky caught in a nightmare there’s only one way to chase away the lingering fear. Mine ⁂ ⨮ ➴ Bucky gets jealous and spanks you for it Last Words ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You get kidnapped after storming out from a fight with Bucky The Bond We Share || vampire!reader ➴ You bond yourself to Bucky to save his life My Heart Remembers You ⨮ ꕥ ➴ Your love transcends time as you are reborn to find your Bucky Burning House ⨮ ➴ Another night another nightmare The Interrogation ⁂ || Winter Soldier ➴ You interrogate the Winter Soldier Promises ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You need to come to grips with your newly acquired power The Secret Life of Bucky Barnes ➴ A glimpse into life as Bucky’s secret girlfriend Wallflower ꕥ ➴ You and Bucky finally confess your feeling for each other Instinct ꕥ || blind!reader ➴ Bucky tracks you down after trying to stop a mugging and he ends up staying for the company. Don’t Want To Miss A Thing ⁂ ➴ Bucky celebrates your birthday Seven Seconds † ➴ In seven seconds you see your entire future laid bare.

[jen-with-a-pen]

Honeysuckle ❀ IV

SERIES ❀ PREVIOUS ❀ NEXT

summary: You and Bucky are getting ready for another one of Stark's Signature Events when Bucky finds out his outfit has been sabotaged. Accident or not, pink just might be his color after all.

pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: cursing, embarrassed Bucky, the color pink, sam didn't mean it he was just fucking around, outfit descriptions for reader but little to no mention of body description, fluff and closeness and light touching and slight ✨feelings✨

word count: 1.68k

original a/n: yes this was inspired by the pink met gala look. no i will not be taking further questions. also, just like the other parts of Honeysuckle, this is standalone in this lovely little universe i've managed to create. love u all as always ♥ edit a/n: going back through this one was a delight :3 i like seeing how my writing has grown exponentially since first writing these idiots ♥

a/n 04/2024: hi! i have gone through and rewritten and reformatted a few parts in the fic in order to make it flow better and to ensure it has all-inclusive language in it (this was one of my first fics in the fandom and was not as educated as i am now.) if there are any mistakes, please feel free to DM me and kindly let me know :)

divider by @firefly-graphics | gif by @itz-me-aggie | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist

Read this fic HERE on ao3! - coming soon to ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

“Bucky, we’re gonna be late!” You called from your perch on the couch. You finally secured the bracelet you’d been struggling with for five minutes when a loud groan answered from behind the cracked bathroom door, followed by a painful, “Goddamnit!” 

You jumped as Bucky’s voice shook his apartment. Cautiously, you rose from the couch and moved to the door, muttered cursing and muffled thuds coming from behind it, freezing when Bucky called your name before you could grab the door handle.

“Uh, yeah, Buck?” You swallowed, nervous, thinking of ways to navigate his tone. You’d never heard him talk like this before. Ever.

Bucky cursed again. “Gah–fuck me– could you go ‘n get Sam?” The icy undertones of his request sent a chill down your spine.

“Wh– Buck, we gotta get going, why would you want–”

“Now, Honey.” 

His demand came stronger than you expected, sending you reeling back from the door. You blinked. He sighed immediately after he checked himself, frustrated, uttering another curse under his breath before trying again.

“Now, Honey, please?” His voice softened, granted there was still an edge to it. You paused, even more confused as to why he wanted Sam, of all people, right this fucking second. The gala was starting in twenty minutes and you were already running behind.

“I– Yes.”

A quiet ‘thank you’ followed you out into the hallway as you made a bee-line for Sam’s quarters. Heel clicks echoed off the tile floor, bouncing off the walls as you quickened your pace, stopping abruptly at Sam’s quarters. You pounded on the door, calling out his name. No response.

“Sam Wilson, get out here, damnit!” You yelled, fists readied for another swing at the door. Just before making contact, the door flew open, revealing one Sam Wilson with a brow cocked and busy hands looping a wine-red tie around his popped collar.

“Damn, Honeysuckle, didn’t know you were capable of using such language,” he tisked. You rolled your eyes.

“Sam, Bucky needs you,” you spat out. Sam paused, brow dropping while a dismissive smirk plastered his face. He didn’t believe you. And, honestly, who would?

Sam scoffs a laugh. “Why? Does he need help oiling his gears?”

He stifled a chuckle but you weren’t in any mood to laugh. You instead lunged, yanking him out into the hallway with you, slamming the door shut. He instantly dropped the act.

“Will you just shut the fuck up and come with me?” You demanded through gritted teeth. For all you knew, Bucky could be suffering from another panic attack. Alone. The mere thought of that made your heart hammer harder. And if being late and Sam’s thick skull hadn’t already pissed you off, that sure as hell did.

“Okay, alright, I’m comin’.” Sam nodded, following you down the hallway, still fiddling with his tie. 

“He’s in there,” you said, pointing to the bathroom door as the two of you entered Bucky’s quarters. Sam led the way, gently knocking on the door.

“Bucky? It’s me, can I come in?”

Not a word was uttered as the door cracked open slowly and a metal-plated arm jutted out, yanking Sam into the bathroom before quickly slamming it closed. You flinched, the small living room settling into silence as you stood outside the bathroom, hands fidgeting with the glittery fabric of your dress. It felt like ages of nothing but incoherent, hushed conversation coming from the other side of the door. At your wit’s end, you were about to yell break the door down yourself when Sam started cackling at the top of his lungs. 

Now you were really confused.

“Honey!” He managed to call between howls. “Get in here!”

You hesitated. Gripping the handle, you cautiously pushed the door open to a scene that was the last thing you could have possibly imagined.

Sam stood by the sink, bent over in stitches while tears brimmed his eyes in futile attempts at trying– and failing– to stop laughing. His suit jacket wrinkled at the waist as he jutted an arm out from his stomach, bracing himself on the countertop. 

“Sam what the fuck–!” you began to scold him, turning your head to Bucky. 

Your jaw dropped.

The hulking ex-hitman stood against the opposite wall with his head bent to the floor, loose strands of hair falling from his slicked-back ponytail. His arms crossed over his chest, failing to cover the source of Sam’s outburst: his bright pink dress shirt. And it wasn’t like a typical white-shirt-got-in-with-the-reds-type pink. No, his shirt was as if a flamingo colored itself with a highlighter and then rolled in cotton candy. Bucky’s face was close to matching the hue perfectly as Sam continued to holler over the bathroom sink.

“Oh! Oh, Bucky,” you cooed, voice wavering as you bit back a smile. You stepped toward him, placing your hands on his sulking shoulders. He dared not to look up from his staring contest with the floor as his face became even more flushed at your touch.

“Hey, Buck,” you coaxed as you gently lifted his chin with a finger, “look at me will ya?”

He sighed, relenting, finally meeting your stare. Baby blues beamed right through you as he held your gaze with sad, puppy-dog eyes you couldn’t resist looking away from.

“How did this even happen?” You questioned him, and Sam, looking between them.

“I asked Sam for help doing my own laundry,” Bucky groaned, “and he told me to just throw everything in. Even the reds ‘n whites.” 

“Sam!” You whipped around, shooting daggers as your grip tightened on Bucky’s shoulders. 

“What? He asked, I helped!” he defended. “Didn’t think he’d actually take me seriously!”  Sam wiped away a tear as he caught his breath, smoothing out his suit. Utterly speechless at the minimal amount of brain cells Sam apparently possessed, and empathetic to Bucky’s situation and sweet, sweet naivety, you sighed as thoughts raced to think of ways to remedy the situation so you all could at least show up by the end of cocktail hour because you really fucking needed a drink.

You looked to Bucky, chewing your lip, searching his features for an answer. Then it hit you.

“Wait here,” you ordered, “both of you.” You pointed to Sam as you made way to the elevator in the hallway as fast as your heels could carry you. Once on your floor, you sprinted into your apartment, hurrying to your closet in search of the dress you remembered immediately dismissing when Wanda was helping you choose what to wear for that night. Something you’d never be caught wearing ever, especially at such a public event. With cameras. And strangers.

Do it for Bucky, do it for Bucky, do it for Bucky.

You stripped your old dress off, leaving it on the floor of your closet as you wiggled yourself into the 'eye sore of the century’– your words, in contrast to Wanda’s literal heart eyes when you’d tried it on– and prayed to anything holy that this would make Bucky feel better.

You raced out the door and back into the elevator, hoping F.R.I.D.A.Y. was the only one to see you. So far.

“Man, hey,” Sam nodded to Bucky, who still refused to look him in the eye. Sam rolled his eyes, heart filling with just a tad bit of guilt for messing with him. 

“Buck–”

“Don’t call me Buck.”

“Okay, you know what? I’m sorry. There, ya happy?”

Bucky grunted in response, shifting his weight as he continued to analyze the tiled flooring.

“Bucky, c’mon, I–” Sam stopped mid-sentence, interrupted as the bathroom door whipped open, revealing you standing in the threshold. Your arms crossed over your chest holding a black suit jacket. A bubblegum pink midi dress complete with a multitude of sequins hugged you as you waited for Bucky to notice. Sam sure as hell did.

“Bucky– Honey– Woah.” Sam straightened, adjusting his tie and buttoning his jacket.

Sam’s reaction snapped Bucky out of his trance. His eyes skimmed from the floor to your heels, eyes growing wider and wider as he made his way up to meet your sharp gaze. Without hesitation, you cocked a hip and threw the jacket at him. He caught it, confused, bewildered, utterly mesmerized. Still clueless, however, he looked down at it then back at you. If he didn’t know any better, he’d be drooling. 

“C’mon Buck, get dressed or we won’t make it in time for cocktail hour,” you huffed, tapping at an imaginary wristwatch. 

Bucky gulped. A deer in headlights. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of the biggest grin breaking out on Sam’s face. Without another word, he placed a quick peck on your cheek and snuck past you, closing the door. Finally, Bucky seemed to snap back to reality and did as you asked. He swung the jacket over his broad shoulders, adjusting the cuffs and moving to the mirror. You stepped behind him, observing him over his shoulder as he adjusted his tie. 

“You didn’t have to do this, ya know,” he muttered, his small smirk quickly growing across his lips.

“Yes, I did,” you replied, grabbing his waist and spinning him towards you. Manicured fingers reached for his collar, adjusting it as you locked eyes with him. You offered a soft, genuine smile as you tucked a loose lock of hair behind his ear. He returned with one of his own, a free hand finding its way to your waist while your own slid down to stay on his cheek. Your thumb softly stroked his cheek, smooth from when he shaved that morning. In that moment it was as if you were pulling each other closer and closer with each passing second, the air magnetizing as hands lingered for seconds longer than you both were used to. 

In this light, something inside of you screams at how handsome he is.

You ignore it, though, instead suddenly remembering you both had a gala to get to.“Now, let’s go,” you said, dragging him out of his apartment. “I need a damn drink.”

[loving-barnes]

Vendetta 2 - Masterlist

Pairing: Mob Boss! Bucky Barnes x Mob! Boss Y/N Fox (Bucky Barnes x female reader)

Chapters: ???

General warning: angst, violence, blood, fluff, smut (every chapter will have its own warnings) - mature and explicit content, minors DNI - only for 18+

Summary: Y/N's business is in jeopardy. Someone is trying to destroy her and her family as well as the love she and Bucky have. No one knows who is behind it all. It puts her and Bucky's relationship through hell and back as well as their alliance. People from the past come, mistakes happen and people get hurt. Can they survive it all or is their love too fragile to handle it?

Author’s note: just a reminder about the reader - it is a female reader, and she has a family name (for story purposes). Also, Y/N went through a transformation - from an ugly duckling to a beautiful swan. However, I won't describe too much of her physique (or I really, really tried). I tried to be as inclusive as possible. If not, please, let me know.

CHAPTERS:

Chapter one - Bitter-sweet afterparty

Chapter two - Dark days ahead

Chapter three - Moving on

Chapter four - TBA