#Crooked Crown | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rookthorne · 2 years

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧

Sometimes the King needed his Queen to take care of him, and you were more than happy to oblige.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✰ Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✰ 5.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✰ Hurt/comfort, angst, descriptions of blood, implied violence, fluff ჻჻჻ SMUT: Sub!Bucky, oral sex (M recieving), masturbation (F) ჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, dirty talk

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✰ I FUCKING DID IT! My first published smut.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✰ Come Healing by Leonard Cohen

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

What the hell am I doing?

You couldn’t help but question yourself as you stared along the kitchen counter, the surface crowded with racks and trays full of cakes, cookies, and all manner of sweet treats.

Stress baking. It wasn’t a bad idea, per say, but you weren’t a baker. Hell, you burnt birthday cakes like it was your job when the occasion came around. But for some reason the guys loved anything that you made, so it went without saying that you became the unofficial baker of the family.

The speaker on the windowsill blasted a classic rock playlist while you pulled yet another tray of too-crisp, almost but not quite charcoal muffins out of the oven, but a sudden chime from your phone made you almost drop them to the floor. “Jesus!” you hissed. You hastened to the last bit of free space on the counter to put the tray down and ripped the oven mitts from your hands.

Bucky would be furious if he found out you had burnt yourself over muffins. You wouldn’t put it past him, with how dramatic he was, to fire a few bullets through the oven in retaliation.

Another chime sounded as you rushed to your phone next to the speaker.

Steve.

Oh no.

If Steve was texting you instead of Bucky, that could only mean Bucky was either hurt, or something had gone absolutely fucking sideways. What if the cops had found him crossing state lines? Shit.

It had been four days since Bucky, Steve, and Thor had left for the next state over to secure a shipment and partake in ‘business meetings’. You had no desire to know what these meetings entailed; all you knew was that Bucky’s knuckles ended up black and blue and caked with blood whenever they were called.

No matter how serious the matter was, you couldn’t help but chuckle whenever Steve’s contact name came up on your phone. Thor had gotten him absolutely plastered a few weeks ago and Steve had almost too enthusiastically draped a certain accessory over his ass - and he would never, ever live it down.

Code brooding.

Well, at least he wasn’t in cuffs or off the side of the road in a ditch. You could deal with his mood. You quickly typed a response only to hear the chime again a second later - they must be pulled up at a service station.

“Yeah, poor Nat doesn’t want that either,” you chuckled out loud. But you couldn’t resist the urge to play with fire, the temptation was too much to bear. The click of your phone happened one second before another chime - Steve’s response.

Oh, Stevie. He would get you back for that.

With the knowledge that Bucky would be home soon and in a mood, you set to work.

Three quarters of an hour had passed when you finally heard the distant rumble of a bike approaching. He’s home. With all the cakes, muffins, and other sweets packed neatly away in tupperware to take to the clubhouse tonight, you shoved his surprise into the cupboard. The rumble grew louder and louder until you could hear it through the walls and feel it through the floor, the roar of the engine almost deafening as though you were next to it.

The engine cut and fell silent as you waited nervously by the counter. You didn’t know for sure what Bucky was going to look like when he walked through the door, but the warning from Steve was enough to tell you to be prepared with a first aid kit.

A code brooding likely meant that some fool had tested Bucky’s patience - and anyone who tested Bucky’s patience was guaranteed to regret it. Eating via a tube was never a pleasant experience.

The squeak of the front door opening and slamming shut pulled you away from that charming visual, and you heard Bucky’s boots clunk down the hall with the rustling sound of leather. That was unusual - on any given day the first thing Bucky would do upon arriving home was take off his kutte.

“Hey, Buck,” you called as you rounded the corner to the entryway, only to stop suddenly at the sight of him. “Baby, are you alright?”

He stood in the doorway with his bag slung over his shoulder, his hair in a low bun and his face streaked with dried blood. The deep scowl and stormy anger in his eyes made you realise you were woefully unprepared.

You slowly stepped forward, noticing the way his shoulders began to slump the nearer you got. “Talk to me, baby.” Your voice was just above a whisper, while you weren’t afraid of him, you couldn’t help but feel the tension of his anger as it rolled off him in waves. It was never easy when he brought it all home with him, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped. “Are you hurt?”

A slight shake of his head was interrupted by a wince of pain. Liar. “C’mon,” you said as you reached your hand forward to grasp his. “Let's get you cleaned up.” Bucky let you grab the strap of his bag and drop it to the floor, his kutte slipping from off his shoulders under your gentle touch. He hissed in pain when your thumb grazed his left shoulder, and you frowned as you hung his kutte on its hook on the wall. You grabbed his hand again, pulling him gently toward your room.

Bucky followed you obediently, and when you pointed to the bed he automatically sat while you padded into the ensuite. The groan of the mattress under his weight was the only sound in the quiet room until the shower started to run.

You met his stormy gaze as he looked up at you from his perch on the bed, his eyes roving your figure in the doorway until they fell to his intertwined hands. Bitter resentment clawed its way through your heart and you had half an idea to raid the clubhouse armoury and deal with the assholes yourself.

Bucky never shut you out.

He didn’t look at you when you approached and stood between his knees. With a gentle hand on his chin, you tilted his head up, and what you found in his eyes broke your heart.

Bucky looked utterly defeated. There were no visible wounds on his face, no source for the blood that was smeared across his nose and cheek, which could only mean that it was someone else’s. He was fidgety and unsettled, and here in the safe haven of your room, the anger that had blazed in his eyes before gave way to bone-deep exhaustion.

What the hell had happened?

The carpet was soft underneath your knees as you knelt down between his legs, an action that would normally elicit a lewd response, but just this once, Bucky only stared. He looked at you through glistening eyes, as though you were the thing in his life that kept it all together - the one thing that gave his life meaning.

It was like he was trying to tell you what he had done, but the actions had no words to describe just how fucked up they were. But you didn’t need to know. Bucky needed you, and you were going to take care of him. The Queen always had her King’s back.

The feel of rough denim under your hand when you rested it against his knee gave you an idea - Bucky had always taken care of you on your bad days, and you had a feeling he needed the gentle care he always afforded you. On a whim, you gently grabbed one of his own bruised hands and cradled it against your cheek like a priceless treasure with your own.

Bucky’s lips parted slightly, but he didn’t speak.

“I love you, my King,” you whispered as you turned to kiss his palm, and his expression softened slightly. He didn’t resist when you moved his legs to remove his boots, his socks following close behind. His jacket and shirt were next; only then did you see why he winced when your thumb brushed his shoulder earlier, and you couldn’t help the grimace at the sight.

The entirety of his left shoulder was bruised, the mottling of angry red and blue spreading up from his arm towards his collarbone. “Oh, baby,” you whispered as you traced a suspicious knuckle imprint with your fingertip, your other hand placed against his cheek so your thumb could stroke his cheekbone. “My poor baby.” Bucky only whimpered quietly in response and leant into your hand so his stubble scratched gently against your palm.

“Stand up for me, baby,” you whispered as you got to your feet, Bucky following close behind. “That’s it,” you cooed.

He didn’t fight against or tease you like he normally would when your hands wrapped around his waist to take off his belt and holster, the bloodied jeans hitting the floor once they were gone. They weren’t his usual nor your favourite pair so you figured throwing them in the trash wouldn’t be frowned upon. They did nothing for his ass, anyway.

Bucky’s bruised hands pawed at your hips when you reached up to free his hair from its bun, and he rested his forehead into the crook of your neck. It wasn’t often he sought comfort from anyone, so you knew that he was struggling, both physically and emotionally. What he had done on this trip was hard for him to bear - your big tough biker President had a heart, after all. And it was hurting. Ignoring just how light his holster had felt when you placed it on the dresser, you turned back to face him and your heart broke at the sight.

Bucky looked lost, almost as though the effort of standing next to your shared bed was costing him every single effort to not shatter on the spot.

“Do you want me to take care of you, sweet boy?” A quiet whine was the only answer you received, and that wouldn’t do. You sauntered over and rested your hands on his chest. “Use your words, baby.”

“Please,” Bucky whispered, his voice breaking with the need behind it. You smirked. “Please, please, please.”

“Please, what, baby?”

Bucky groaned into your neck and kneaded at your hip again, the force making you take a small step closer so your chests touched. He needed this desperately but you couldn’t help but toy with him. “Please take care of me, please.”

You never could resist his begging.

You threaded your hand through his hair, then pulled gently back so you could see his face. His pupils were blown and his lips were parted, a dark blush starting to bloom over his cheeks and down his neck. The perfect picture of a desperate man. “Good boy,” you murmured.

Bucky’s breath hitched at that and he couldn’t keep his hands still, his palms rubbing up and down your sides until they finally rested on your waist. “Come on,” you said as you pulled him towards the bathroom where steam had started to billow from the open door.

You were swift to undress with Bucky’s limited help - you wouldn’t let him use his left arm for fear of making the bruising worse, but that didn’t slow you down. The two of you stood under the flowing water so his back would be under the steady stream, and when you glanced down you saw the water snaking toward the drain was tinged pink with blood. His hands never left your hips while you reached up and massaged the shampoo into his hair, the slope of his shoulders relaxing the longer you rubbed circles against his head. A content sigh left him as your nails gently scratched against the base of his scalp, his grip on your hips tightening reflexively. “That’s it,” you cooed, and Bucky hummed lightly.

It wasn’t long till Bucky started to place open mouthed kisses along your neck as you washed the conditioner from his hair. “Stop,” you said. Your tone left no room for questioning, but Bucky still whined into your neck like the needy mess that he was. “Be a good boy and do as you're told,” you ordered gently. “This is about you. Lemme take care of you.”

Bucky begrudgingly pulled away and looked at you, a definite pout on his full lips. The sudden urge to kiss them overwhelmed you, and you were never one to deprive yourself - Bucky’s pleased smile made you giggle against his lips.

The bruising on his shoulder looked so much worse under the fluorescent lighting in the bathroom. You gently cleaned the area with a loofah and some soap, reaching to hold his hand in your free one when he winced. “Sorry, baby,” you whispered, and Bucky shook his head before placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

Your hand travelled along the tattooed plains of his chest, the soap leaving no grime behind and before long, the water trailed clear down the drain. Suddenly, a filthy idea flashed into your mind, one that would truly let him relax and rid the destructive thoughts no doubt plaguing his mind. Oh, how he would love that.

Slowly, soapy loofah still in hand, you knelt to the floor as Bucky watched with sleepy dazed eyes and a furrowed brow. “What are you doin’?”

You smiled sweetly. “Just close your eyes, sweet boy. For me.” Bucky only hesitated slightly, his mouth opening as if to say something, but he closed it again quickly and shut his eyes with a deep sigh. He trusted you, and he looked too out of it to expect or think of anything but sleep, anyway.

The soap suds washed away with the streams of water running down from Bucky’s shoulders and back as you ran the loofah over his hips and thighs, your face mercifully sheltered from the flow of water by his towering figure. You didn’t miss the fact that his cock jumped as you inched closer. Smirking to yourself you continued on, willing down the urge to just give in and touch him to satisfy your own needs. It was almost impossible to resist him when he slipped into this state of mind.

Patience.

As you worked Bucky started to sway where he stood, the exhaustion he felt finally hitting him harder than a collision - but you wouldn’t have it. “You okay, baby?” you questioned, checking in with him before the inevitable babbling mess he would become once you started. It was validating to know that he trusted you so deeply, that he could lose himself like this, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart grow at that thought.

He loved you, and you loved him.

He kept his eyes closed and nodded, placing his right arm against the shower wall, his bruised knuckles standing out in stark contrast on the white tile. Perfect. He was going to need that support.

Under the guise of running the loofah over his thighs once again, you inched closer, the sound of your knees moving on the tile inaudible over the running water. “Open your eyes for me, sweet boy.” With your face only inches from his cock as you looked up at him, unable to stop the mischievous smirk as it bloomed when Bucky opened his eyes to look down at you, and you could hear the air leave his lungs in a shocked exhale.

“Please,” he begged again, his voice meek as he ran his left hand through your hair gently. “Please, doll, please.”

Just to toy with him, you placed a few kitten licks along his shaft as you worked your way toward his tip, revelling in the quiet whimpers leaving his lips. “Are you gonna be my good boy?” you teased, slowly reaching out to stroke up and down his length. You smirked when his breath hitched slightly and his thigh twitched; this wouldn’t take long.

“You have to answer me, handsome, or I won’t give you what you want.” Exploiting his weakness for praise was always so satisfying, and you had to hide your smirk when Bucky’s eyes darkened under his hooded lids. You couldn’t help but revel in that almost glare - he knew exactly how that look drove you crazy in the best way. The two of you were as bad as each other.

There was a beat of silence before he spoke. “Yes, yes, I’m-” Bucky stopped, pausing so he could lick his lips quickly. He was stalling. You grinned and began to tease him in earnest with a broad swipe from base to tip with your tongue. He was desperately trying to say something, to please you, but you weren’t done.

Slowly, you brought his tip into your mouth and suckled, gently laving over his frenulum with the tip of your tongue, and his mouth dropped open with a sharp gasp.

He was watching you rapturously, and you couldn’t resist the urge any longer.

“I’m- fuck- I’m your good boy, please, oh-” he cut off with a loud moan when you finally swallowed his length, his hand gripping your hair. “Fuck!”

You hummed, the feeling of him sitting at the back of your throat while he struggled to contain himself from fucking your mouth almost too good to bear. The stray droplets of water from the shower mixed with the drool that had started to gather on your bottom lip as you bobbed your head, moaning on every pass to make him shudder.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Bucky chanted lowly, but you weren’t done with teasing him. He whined when you pulled away with a pop and you smirked, reaching forward to continue stroking him at an achingly slow pace that made no progress towards his high. “Please!”

“Uh uh,” you chided with a rare authority you loved to exploit. “Where’s your manners?”

Bucky only whined when his hand squeaked against the tile as he adjusted his balance, his other hand moving down to cradle your jaw so his thumb could swipe and press against your bottom lip. The blush had spread down his neck and onto his chest behind the tattoos. His grip in your hair tightened suddenly and you watched as a few drops of pre-cum leaked from the head of his cock only to collect on your hand while Bucky shuddered above you.

God, he was a mess - and you loved every single second of it.

“Baby, please,” Bucky whispered, his puppy eyes almost impossible to resist. Almost. He gasped when you pulled your face away from his hand to lave your flat tongue along his tip before pursing your lips around it and suckling softly. “Fuck, doll, please, I need you, ple-”

Bucky moaned loudly, his hips surging forward in your mouth when you worked further down his length and hollowed your cheeks. He watched you reach one hand up - “What’re y- oh, fuck me,” - and gently tug at his balls, giving each the attention they deserved.

“So fuckin’ warm,” Bucky groaned. “S’good to me, always ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” You moaned around him at the praise and a sudden determination surged through you. He felt the sudden shift in your jaw and looked down at you quizzically, but you only raised a brow in challenge. “Wha-” His question was cut off with a yelp as your nose brushed against his pelvis.

The sudden fullness of him in your throat made you gag, and Bucky jerked his hips back, pulling out of your mouth instinctively. His brows were pinched with worry and there was a slight frown on his lips - you knew he couldn’t bear the thought of you being uncomfortable, but you grunted in protest.

For once you wished he wouldn’t be so damn chivalrous.

The loss of the heat of your mouth made his dick protest too, the twitching gave away just how much he enjoyed being enveloped by you.

“Buck,” you started, ignoring the trail of spit dribbling down your chin, desperate to have him back in your mouth. “Fuck my mouth, use me, now.” Bucky swallowed thickly and stared down at you with his eyes wide, his irises eclipsed with black. His eyes tracked your every move from the slight sway of your breasts as you shifted closer to him, to how your hands edged from his thighs towards his cock, desperate to feel him again. “C’mon,” you urged, but it had no effect. He was entranced.

“Do as you are fucking told, pretty boy,” you ordered again, and you watched with a smile as Bucky’s eyes glazed over and he whimpered quietly. The sound was intoxicating, and you wanted more.

He was frozen. You had severed the connection between his brain and mouth, the act of speaking evidently too much to ask of him. It was satisfying watching him struggle for words at your mercy, after all, he had made you cock drunk and unable to speak anything besides his name so many times.

“Be a good boy and fuck my mouth, Bucky,” you tried again, scraping your nails down his thighs, and the slight pain seemed to jumpstart him back to life.

“Y-Yes, baby, oh my god-” His words choked off into a guttural moan when you swallowed him down again. “S’good, doll, please don’t stop.”

You didn’t.

You forced your jaw to relax as you took all of him in your mouth. He cried out when you raised your hand to massage his balls again, and his grip on your hair tightened almost painfully. But he still wasn’t taking control like you wanted him to; you released his balls and grabbed his ass tightly with both hands, pulling him forward.

It was the only encouragement he needed.

The first jolt of his hips made you gag, but you kept your composure. As Bucky pulled out slightly you ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft and he gasped suddenly. “Do that-” he swallowed thickly and brushed the hair from your eyes. So caring and considerate, even while fucking your mouth. “Do that again, please, baby.”

You blinked up at him and he thrusted forward again, pulling back slowly and you did as he asked with a hell of a reward. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped between ragged pants and he kept it up, his thrusts starting to stutter the more you ran your tongue up his length.

With a renewed vigour when Bucky stilled, you sucked hard and watched his eyes roll back, a shout of your name leaving his parted lips. “Fuck!”

Bucky whined as you pulled back for a much needed breather, your hand pumping him much quicker now as his dick twitched in your grip. Your knees squeaked on the tile as you squeezed your thighs together to quell the ache and throb between them. Reducing Bucky to a begging mess was and always would be a surefire way to ignite your own desire - and Bucky noticed.

“Pretty girl, all worked up, huh?” he questioned and you whined, leaning into his hand cradling your jaw, his thumb working over the muscles. “Bet you’re fucking soaked, sweetheart.” A quick nod was your only response and you began to move forward to swallow him again, but he stopped you. “Go on,” Bucky brought his right hand down to tug at his cock slowly, just enough to keep on the edge but not enough to go over. “Touch yourself, please, baby.”

You didn’t need telling twice.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Bucky watched you and you felt a surge of lust-driven bravery at his praise. You could tell it wouldn’t take long, the knot almost ready to snap the more you circled your clit in deliberate strokes, the heat of Bucky’s gaze and his quiet moans fuelling the fire. “Look at you, baby, all desperate.” You whined and closed your eyes as you neared the edge, so close to tumbling over. “Look at me,” Bucky snapped and you complied, your lips parted as you breathed heavily, each exhale becoming a moan that grew in volume.

“So pretty like this,” Bucky whispered as he bent over, his lips kissing the shell of your ear. “Cum for me, be a good girl and cum for me, I know you want to, c’mon.”

Your cunt clenched around nothing and you cried out as the pleasure reached a fever pitch, the knot snapping with such ferocity you swore if you were standing you would have fallen. “Bucky!”

Bucky smiled and used his free hand to rub down your shoulder to cup your breast. “Atta girl,” he hummed, the smirk evident in his tone. “Knew you could do it.” He kept up a chain of praises as you came down from your high.

It only took a moment to get your bearings back and you pushed against his right shoulder. “Your turn.” You stated simply, leaving no room for argument. Bucky grinned dazedly and straightened up without resistance.

You started slow again, building him back up from where you left off, even though you could see it wasn’t needed. Pre-cum was dribbling from his slit and you didn’t waste a single drop. “Oh, fuck,” Bucky moaned loudly, his right arm braced against the wall while his left gripped your hair again.

The audible pop of you pulling away again made him whine needily, desperately, and you smirked. He looked down at you and opened his mouth to speak, or beg, but you cut him off. “I’ll let you cum, my sweet boy.”

“Thank you, thank you, ba- FUCKING hell!” Bucky shouted through his babbling. You had taken his entire length down your throat again and you bobbed up and down quickly, sure to use every single weakness he had. “Oh, god, fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum!” he cried, and you grinned as best you could.

His right hand scrabbled against the smooth tile of the wall for purchase that wasn’t there. His jaw went slack, his breath coming in heaves that became a moan on every exhale. Suddenly, and cruelly, you slowed, and you let the piteous whine he made fuel you.

“Doll, please, I need t’a cum,” Bucky begged, his hand trying to move your head quicker but you resisted. “No!” he cried when you pulled away, spit trailing between your bottom lip and the tip of his cock.

You grinned and looked up at his face. “Hold on, baby.”

Before he could reply, you took his tip into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, running your tongue around it with enough pressure to make him shudder. “Oh god, I’m so close,” he babbled. Slowly bobbing your head, you set a pace that met his thrusts expertly.

Suddenly you surged forward, your nose meeting his pelvis again and you sucked hard, his shout of pleasure cut off by a loud moan when he arched towards you to meet you halfway. “I can’t, oh god, don’t stop, please!” Bucky whimpered as his shallow thrusts became stuttered again, and you knew he was close.

With perfect timing, you brought your hands up to his balls again to roll and tug on them gently, the result almost instantaneous.

“I’m cumming, fuck!”

Bucky came with a loud grunt, each twitch of his dick eliciting a moan as he emptied down your throat. You swallowed what you could but the rest dribbled down your chin, and the sight made Bucky moan again. Slowly you pulled off him with an audible, wet pop, then sat back on your haunches, a blissed smile gracing your expression.

“Feeling better, baby?” you asked, and Bucky laughed.

“Thank you, sweetheart, that was good,” he panted out, his pupils still blown. You winked and stood to grab the soap again.

“Gotta wash again.”

Of course, it didn’t end there.

Much later when the two of you were laying in bed, did you remember your actual surprise you had made him earlier that day. The movie you were watching together suddenly became background noise as you sat up abruptly, making Bucky start and shout in alarm. “What’s wrong?!”

“Nothing, nothing, I promise.” You turned back to face him as you slipped on your robe. “Be right back!”

The wooden floor was cold under your feet as you rushed to the kitchen and straight to the cupboard. Unsurprisingly, you heard Bucky’s footsteps trailing after you. “I said I’ll be back!” You laughed as you turned around only to pause at the sight.

Bucky was wearing those damn grey sweatpants with no shirt. His Adonis belt was on full display, as were his tattoos. He caught you staring and smirked. “Careful, sweetheart, you’ll catch flies.” You narrowed your eyes in response while he only chuckled. “What’re you doin’?”

“Close your eyes,” you said. Bucky only raised a brow in defiance and you scowled. “Do as you’re told.” With your tone leaving no room for argument, just like in the shower, Bucky complied.

He raised his hands placatingly and did so. You whipped around and pulled down the tray the cake was placed on, careful to keep it balanced until it was safely deposited onto the counter.

Your feet padded on the tiled floor to where Bucky stood and he raised a brow, almost daring to open his eyes, but you tutted. He didn’t start when you pulled on his arm to grab his hand, and you directed him to the counter. “Keep your eyes closed.”

“If you walk me into a wall I’m gonna tie you to the bed and edge you for hours,” Bucky threatened, and your breath hitched. Damn him.

You laughed and manoeuvred him so he stood in front of the cake. “As tempting as that is, I’m not that mean.” Bucky scoffed and you slapped his right shoulder in retaliation, which only made him snort a laugh.

“Now, I know I’m not the best, but I hope you love it,” you said quietly, the slight self-doubt now settling deep into your gut, and Bucky could tell.

Of course he could tell.

“I’m gonna love whatever it is, baby, because I love you.”

“Why do you always know what to say, Buck,” you said, praying that the sudden knot in your throat wouldn’t be obvious. Thankfully, Bucky only smirked and you looked down at the cake and back up to him again, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “Okay, open your eyes.”

Bucky did so, and the absolute joy in his features almost moved you to tears. “This is for me?” he breathed, looking from you to the cake iced and decorated with a red star, the simple word ‘family’ scribed with black icing over the top of the star.

“Yeah,” you said. “Do you like it?”

“Like it?” Bucky almost shouted, the happiness in his face definitely moving you to tears this time. “I love it, baby, thank you!” He lifted you up into his arms - still favouring his left after a quick glare you sent him, the unspoken be careful making itself known - and spun you around slowly, laughing when you squealed happily.

He gently placed you back onto the floor once again and captured your lips in a kiss that stole your breath. “Now I gotta show my gratitude in the proper way, sweetheart,” he said against your lips, and you couldn’t help but moan at the low timbre of his voice. He knew it was a weakness, the bastard.

The once spotless kitchen was now strewn with clothes, and if the neighbours were home, well, it was none of their damn business.

Bucky drove the two of you to the clubhouse a couple of hours later, the moon high in the sky as he pulled into the lot. His hand never left your thigh and you couldn’t help but stare at his profile as he put your car into park. “What?” Bucky smirked, clearly chuffed with himself.

You smiled dreamily and grabbed his hand, bringing his bruised knuckles to your lips to place a gentle kiss on them. “Nothing.”

The two of you held each other’s gaze until the tension became almost unbearable, and Bucky broke the silence while adjusting his jeans. “Let’s get inside before I fuck you in this car,” he grumbled. You laughed and got out, going straight to the back to grab half of the containers of sweets while Bucky grabbed the other half.

“Another time, handsome,” you said with a wink, and Bucky grinned. He made his way towards the clubhouse, a very obvious pep in his step as he opened the door and held it open for you with his foot.

“Fucked the attitude right outta him, didn’t you sweets?” Steve yelled as you walked into the games room behind Bucky, both of you cradling the containers of baked treats. Bucky growled and set the containers down carefully, ready to lunge at Steve, but when you clicked your tongue, he stopped.

You looked at Steve, returning his shit-eating grin in earnest. “You just wish you could say the same, Stevie!”

Steve’s face fell flat at your taunt, and Natasha howled with laughter beside him as he flipped you off. Bucky turned to grin at you, and you only winked back.

“I got you, babes,” you said.

And you always would.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #biker au #rookthorne's works #Brotherhood & Bullets #B&B #Crooked Crown

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