#bucky and bug
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itiswormtimebaby · 2 years ago
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Here’s what I’m thinking about: Bucky finds out you’ve never been eaten out and takes that personally. 
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Gif does NOT represent readers physical appearance, but just look at that tongue
Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Bug (+ Brother’s best friend Bucky, plus sized fem reader) CW: Explicit, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, rimming (vague), demanding Bucky but everyone’s into it, Bucky’s mouth, virgin reader
“What the fuck did you just say?” Bucky looks up at you incredulously from where he lays between your spread legs, chin poking into the soft flesh of your stomach, his favorite pillow as of late. You were just so goddamn soft, he couldn’t get over it. 
“How is that news to you? You know I’m-”
“A virgin, not a saint. You’ve dated!” Coming from anyone else it would’ve sounded like an accusation but Bucky was truly just confused, how could someone have access to your body not have their face buried in your sweet pussy twenty-three hours a day? Hell, he’d only licked your essence off his fingers and he was already hooked. You gave a short shrug in response, not sure what to say.
“What about that guy Steve caught you with?” 
“Ew! Never speak of that, he had to bleach his eyes and I had to bleach my brain.” Normally your dramatics would’ve at least earned you a playful eye roll or indulgent chuckle but he was too distraught to offer even that, suddenly rising to his knees, back straight as he loomed over your still prone form. 
“You’re seriously telling me that jackass didn’t reciprocate? None of them did?” 
Again, unsure of how to respond you just offer him a small shrug. 
“Bug, take your goddamn pants off right now.” His tone is deadly serious, eyes blazing. He genuinely looks upset by this new information. 
“BUCKY!” 
“Now or I’m ripping them off.” 
You’re quick to arch your lower back off the bed, rushing so Bucky won’t ruin your favorite leggings, his calloused fingers joining yours in yanking the waistband down over the swell of your stomach and hips before he’s throwing them over his shoulder. As soon as you’re bared to him he drops back to his stomach, rough hands pushing your thighs apart, wasting no time in nosing at your clit. Your mortified to hear him deeply inhale, but it’s quickly lost in a wave of arousal as he begins to talk, seemingly to himself; “Can’t believe no one’s ever tasted this beautiful cunt. Fucking losers. It’s mine now” Filth continues to pour from his mouth between wet open mouthed kisses to your thighs, he alternates between biting and sucking at the soft flesh, before chasing a trail of slick from between your ass cheeks back up to your weeping hole. 
You’d never understood the phrase “he ate pussy like a man starved” until now. It was like Bucky was truly trying to devour you, tongue lapping at your achingly empty opening, a perverse parallel to how he kissed you. His tongue consistently moved over your soaking flesh, licking from one hole to the other before darting back up to your clit, suckling on it as he fucked you on a finger, making you beg for a second. The cycle continued until you were spiraling towards oblivion, his left hand reaching towards you, allowing you to lock your fingers together while your other hand twisted tightly in his hair and his continued to fuck in and out of you, now up to three fingers. 
You hear what vaguely sounds like “tastes so fucking good.” And your name, your actual name, not Bug, before you're using your grip on his hair to press him further into your cunt, grinding against him as you ride out the most intense orgasm of your life so far. Nearly spirally into a second when you come back down to earth and feel his jaw working against your overstimulated cunt as he does his best to drink in your juices. 
He pulls back just long enough to peer up at you, the entire lower half of his face soaked in your slick; “their loss.”
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lovebugism · 1 month ago
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How about something smutty for the Thunderbolts headcanons 😳 Like how each of them would react to you making them cum in their pants
thank you so much for requesting and feeding my hyperfixation!! below you will find four separate baby blurbs for bucky, john, yelena, and bob. each section will have it's own summary, warnings, and whole lotta smut! enjoy :D
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BUCKY BARNES X READER — you're with him in wakanda when he's cured of the trigger words in his head. he's able to touch you for the first time without feeling scared of himself. (established relationship, post-cacw | 1k words)
Bucky Barnes can’t remember the last time he felt this free. Maybe sometime in 1942, he guesses — before he got drafted, before Hydra captured him, before they put those goddamn words in his head. It feels weird that they’re gone now; to be without the dark cloud of impending doom that, at any moment, someone could utter the words and he’d just snap. 
But now, freshly cured and living on the Wakandan countryside, he can touch you for the first time without being terrified of himself.
“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles as his vibranium hand trails up the expanse of your bare back. He keeps his flesh one on your thigh, smoothing his thumb over the plush skin there, and tilts his scruffy chin to smile up at you. He’s got you straddled over his lap, barely clothed and bathed in golden candelight, like some kinda angel brought to life.
“You’re pretty,” you correct with a lovesick grin, raking your hands through his silky, growing locks.
Bucky leans instinctively into your touch. “Don’t make this about me,” he says, squinting.
“It is about you,” you remind him with a giggle, ducking down to kiss his neck. “I’m supposed to compliment you—” Your lips brush his pulse in a chaste kiss. Bucky fights back a shiver. “—Supposed to make you feel good.”
“You do,” Bucky sighs a contented moan, pulling you further into him. “You always do…”
His vibranium hand curls up your back and towards your shoulder. His other one holds tightly to your hip. You wrap your arms tighter around his neck until your bare chest is flush with his scruffy one — until your clothed cunt brushes his cock, half-hard and throbbing within the confines of his boxers.
A moan rumbles in Bucky’s throat. You feel it against your lips when you press them to his adam’s apple. “Do you want to?” you murmur against him, voice low like honey. “‘Cause it kinda seems like you want to.”
Bucky’s head is too clouded to respond properly to your teasing. He just nods his heavy head and flexes his hips beneath you in a desperate attempt to relieve the pulsing ache in his boxers. You let him, and with his consent, begin to rock slowly over his lap. 
“Say it,” you whisper in his ear.
“Want it,” he pants in yours. “Want you.”
“You have me, Buck,” you slur, trying to peer at him through the haze in your vision. Your panties drag over his stiffening cock and leave a damp spot at the center of them. You find yourself chasing your high just as much as Bucky’s. 
You snuck a few sips of alcohol to quell your worry before watching Ayo recite the wretched words back to the man haunted by them. You feel the consequences creeping up on you now and find yourself rambling before you can stop it, half-deluded with pleasure. 
“‘M already yours. My pussy’s already— shit,” you whimper in time with Bucky’s groaning when your clit drags over his lap. Through pants, you beg him, “Say you wanna fuck me. Please. Don’t wanna cum ’til you’re inside me.”
“Oh, fuck,” Bucky whines, face screwed and eyes shut tight. He tries to form the words in his head, but all he can think about is how wet you are — and how his leaking cock has left a damp spot in his underwear — and how the combination of both makes the friction between you so dizzying. “I wanna… fuck—” 
“Uh-huh,” you tease with a slow nod when you sense he’s getting close. “You can do it, Buck. C’mon. There you go.”
He can’t tell if you’re trying to coach him into saying the words or push him headfirst into an orgasm. He hopes it’s the latter, ‘cause he feels himself bursting into his boxers a second later.
“Fuck!” he blurts when he cums, half-muffled and half-whined, like it pains him. 
He holds your hips in both hands, keeping you still above him in a crueler grip than he means to. The quiet bedroom fills with the sound of crackling candles and his groaning. He tilts his face to the ceiling and moans into the golden darkness with his eyes squeezed shut. The sudden orgasm racks through his body in so many shivers up his spine, three warm ropes spit into the confines of his boxers.
“‘M sorry,” he pants when it’s done, still slightly airy from the aftershocks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— Didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay,” you promise with a soft laugh as your own building pleasure begins to subside. You cup his scruffy face in your palms and try to kiss him through the smile on your lips. “You deserve it, Buck,” you whisper against his mouth, between your delicate kisses. “You deserve everything.”
Bucky shakes his head between your palms and smooths his fingers over the bruises he unknowingly stamped into your skin. “Don’t care about everything,” he murmurs lowly. “Just you.”
Your eyes narrow in a sarcastic squint, though you can’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Do you think we can get Shuri to erase the cheesiness from your brain, too?”
“Sure,” Bucky scoffs, smiling still, as he shoves you playfully onto your back. You giggle when you hit the mattress, caging your smile between your teeth as the man crawls back between your legs. He lies flat on the mattress, face-to-face with your clothed pussy. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You nod, obviously sarcastic. “Mhm. Very much.”
“Maybe I’ll just go get her then,” Bucky murmurs, punctuating his quip with a kiss to your inner thigh as he spreads them apart. You shiver when his scruff scrapes your delicate skin. “Tell her to put me back under the ice—”
Your feet lock behind his back to keep him against you. Bucky laughs and curls his arms around your thighs as you prop yourself on your elbows to shoot him a death glare. “You’re not going anywhere, Sergeant Barnes.”
And, truth be told, Bucky’s exactly where he wants to be.
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JOHN WALKER X READER — john hates when valentina pairs the two of you on missions together. until he doesn't. (enemies to lovers, pre-thunderbolts, cw for brief mentions of injuries | 0.8k words)
John Walker can’t stand you most days. You’re too reckless, too impulsive, too quick to put yourselves in situations that might kill you. He hates that Valentina paired you together just as much as he hates that he cares so much about your well-being.
He knows it’d be easier to let you get yourself killed, to have one less thing to worry about, but he somehow ends up kissing you instead.
“I can’t fucking stand you,” he grumbles through labored breaths, with your spit still shining on his swollen mouth. He cages your body between his larger one and the unforgiving wall behind you. The men guarding the vault outside surely won’t mind the sexual tension rising inside it, seeing as they’re half-dead already.
You smile in the face of his anger until the fresh cut on your mouth starts to sting. “But you can fuck me?” you pant, eyes glazed over as they dart back and forth between his dilated ones. “I mean, you want to, right? ’S why you locked me in here, isn’t it?”
“I locked you in here because there were three guys outside trying to kill you, if you forgot.”
“Two,” you correct in a witty deadpan. “I killed the third one.”
“And I killed the other two, who gives a shit—”
“You’re obsessed with me, Walker,” you grin, pulling him close by the belt loops on his suit. 
Despite his near palpable rage, he melts into you with ease. The blonde man stumbles closer until he’s towering over you — hair messy from his helmet, face bruised, ocean eyes staring daggers into you.
“Well, that’s very presumptuous of you,” he gripes.
“I don’t think it is,” you lilt lowly and nudge his clothed crotch with your thigh. 
You watch the words of an argument form and dissolve on his tongue all at once. John exhales hard through his nose as his eyes go glassy. He hadn’t realized how hard he was until you pressed yourself against him — how sensitive he was — how long it had been since he’d had any sort of release.
“Admit it—” you whisper, pulling him closer until his stiff cock is pressed between your bodies. He smells like cologne and copper pennies, likely from the blood darkening his navy blue suit. You’re almost sure you’d be able to feel his racing heart from here, if it weren’t for the thick layers separating you. “—You love me…”
“I hate you,” he corrects, though his dark eyes cloud with lust.
Your smile widens. The cut on the corner of your mouth begins to weep all over again. John reaches for your jaw without thinking, cupping his palm there and swiping the crimson away with his thumb. 
“No, you don’t,” you coo with a shake of your head. The room goes quiet then, filled only by John’s heavy breaths and the clinking of his belt as you undo the buckle. You keep him close with one hand around his belt loop while the other creeps around the front of him. His breath catches in his throat when your fingers dip beneath the hem.
You don’t think he realizes how he’s rocking himself against your thigh. Or the way he subconsciously shakes his head in agreement. 
“You’ve always thought about this, haven’t you?” you continue mercilessly, grinning when your fingertips meet the coarse thatch of hair above his cock. 
John nods his heavy head and leans further into you, propping himself on the wall as his eyes flutter shut. He deserves this, he tells himself, for saving your ass a hundred times over. You owe him one, really.
“I know you have,” you whisper in his ear. “I bet you’ve gotten yourself off to the thought of me a thousand times.”
Again, John nods in response without ever really noticing it. Just like he doesn’t really notice the release building within him — like a creeping hand up his spine, or a tightening knot in his lean stomach. He just keeps rubbing himself against you, chasing a high he barely knows is there.
“But I think when you imagined me making you cum…” you trail off and smile when John moans against your pulse. “…You always thought it’d be inside me.”
John tenses at the thought of fucking you. He’s left trembling above you as a sudden orgasm racks through his body. The quiet room fills with his poorly heldback groans and your giggling while he cums in his pants. He feels the evidence, warm and wet, blooming in his boxers — just like the red-hot embarrassment exploding in his chest. 
He pulls away to find you grinning like the devil.
“Told ya,” you monotone and pull your hand from his boxers, only slightly mourning the fact that you never actually got to touch him. “You’re obsessed with me.”
John scoffs, like he has any room to be ambivalent after humping your thigh like a dog. He zips up his pants, belt buckle clinking as he fastens it again. “You ruined my suit,” is all he can think to say as you walk past him.
You roll your eyes and wrench open the heavy door to the vault, stepping over the bloody bodies littered on the other side of it. “Bill me,” you call over your shoulder.
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YELENA BELOVA X READER — yelena is full of adrenaline after a mission, and you only know one way to calm her down (established relationship, post-thunderbolts, cw for very brief mentions of injuries | 0.8k words)
Yelena Belova has you flat on your back. The rest of the Avengers tower is dark, quiet, and asleep — each of you recovering from the latest mission in the sanctuary of your bedrooms. The blonde Russian girl is too full of adrenaline to rest, though, never mind how much she could probably use the sleep. She’s a relentless force on top of you — because of the adrenaline, of course, and not because she nearly lost you.
She tugs your pants down your legs with a pair of merciless hands, bruised knees digging into the foot of the mattress across from you. The mattress squeaks with each of your movements, and you fight back a laugh. “Be gentle, Belova!” you scold in a whisper. “Walker’s gonna hear.”
(John had the misfortune of his bedroom being one story below yours. And the floors were surprisingly thin. Or so he says.)
Yelena scoffs, face screwed. “I don’t care,” she mutters, voice accented and low like honey. “Let him hear.”
She makes a big show of climbing back over your body, moving much more violently than normal over the worn bed frame, so it creaks louder beneath her. “Yelena!” you snap quietly through gritted teeth, but hold her gently by the hips when she straddles you just the same.
“What?!” she exclaims, louder than necessary for the late, late night, as she tugs her shirt over her head. She throws the fabric to the side, discarding it with the rest of your pajamas littered on the floor — leaving both of you in mismatched sets of old, cotton underwear.
“God, you’re such a child,” you grouse and cross your arms beneath your head.
Yelena grins. “Stop flirting with me,” she lilts lowly and ducks down to kiss you.
Your eyes flutter shut when her plush lips trail from your jaw down to your neck. “We should rest, Lena…” you tell her, sighing when her teeth scrape your pulse. “We’re gonna be sore in the morning.”
You feel her mouth curl into a smile against your skin. “I hope so.”
“Child,” you repeat.
Yelena gets relentless rather quickly, feral in a way only a previous world-class assassin could be. She forgets about the exhaustion and the bruises that ache to the bone, littered across both your bodies. Her head fills only with thoughts of making you feel good, touching you like it could be the last time she ever gets to.
“Lena, Lena, Lena—” you echo, reaching for her wrist where her hand’s shoved into your panties. “Slow down,” you laugh.
“Why?” she whines.
You find her pretty face contorted in a girlish pout when you cup her cheeks in your hands. “Because we have all night,” you coo, smoothing your thumbs over her flushed jaw. “We don’t have to rush.”
Your words strike something deep in her chest. She refuses to let the vulnerability show. 
“I know that,” she scoffs, trying to look unbothered as you smooth the top of her tank top down her chest. You tuck it beneath her breasts, and her pink nipples perk when the cool air hits them.
“Good,” you hum, lifting your head to take her left breast in your mouth.
“I just— I wanted to make you feel good—” she whines in her low Russian accent, voice cracking when you nudge her clothed cunt with your thigh. “—Oh…”
You smile into her chest, teeth scraping her sensitive nipple. Yelena keeps you pressed against her with a hand on the back of your head. Your arms curl around her back to keep her flush to your thigh. You feel the warmth of her cunt against your skin, and the wet spot slowly forming there.
The stubborn girl turns into a puddle above you, in more ways than one. You feel her shuddering as she buries each of her moans in your hair. Your mouth leaves her nipple with a quiet pop, and a thin string of saliva threatens to connect you when you pull away.
“Are you gonna cum, Lena?” you coo, swollen mouth curling into a soft smile. “I’ve barely even touched you—”
Her fingers tighten in your hair. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she pleads in a broken voice.
You return to her chest, sucking on her sensitive nipple until she keens. She exhales a hoarse moan above you, flexing her hips over your thigh to keep her clit flush to your skin. She lets out several pretty “Uh, uh, uh”’s before tensing suddenly above you. 
Yelena holds her breath, grips you tight by your shoulder and the back of your neck, and begins to tremble over your thigh. “Oh, shit…” she moans, then sighs. “Oh, shit—” 
It comes out more disappointed the second time, as she pulls back from you to flash you a girlish pout. “What?” you laugh, mouth shining with spit, as you smooth a rouge blonde tendril behind her ear.
“I was supposed to make you feel good,” she whines, Russian accent sounding deep in her mouth. “I had it all planned— I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing we’ve got all the time in the world, right?”
Yelena’s frown curls into a more devilish grin at your words.
Neither of you get any sleep that night. Walker, included.
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ROBERTY REYNOLDS X READER — a year after the void nearly destroyed new york, you're still teaching bob that it's okay to feel good (new-ish relationship, post-thunderbolts | 1k words)
Robert Reynolds is still getting used to touching you. He’s spent nearly every day with you since you found him — learning how to use his powers for good, how to touch you without hurting you, how to be human again. It’s been a year since then, and he’s starting to get the hang of it. But sometimes he thinks you have more faith in him than he does in himself.
You kiss him hard enough to bruise him on the center of the living room couch, with Sunset Boulevard playing quietly on the large TV behind you. Bob’s anxiety is only partly quelled by the rest of the Thunderbolts’ absence, but he’s still slightly scared of himself — what if The Void returned and swallowed him whole again? Who would be there to stop him from hurting you if it did?
You don’t seem half as panicked about the whole thing as your lips stamp wet kisses up and down the expanse of his long neck. “You’re so pretty, Bobby,” you murmur into his warm skin. “Such a pretty boy…”
Bob swallows hard at your praise, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He shifts uncomfortably beneath you on the sofa when he feels his cock twitching in the confines of his sweatpants. There’s a need for release inside of him that he can’t ignore, but he cares more about keeping you safe. Safe from himself.
You pull back, mouth swollen from your assault on his neck. “Can I…?” you smile and trail off, hands sliding down his clothed, lean chest to the waistband of his sweatpants.
Bob doesn’t know what you’re planning. It excites him as much as it frightens him. His mouth opens and closes like a fish until he finds the words. “Oh. I— I don’t— I don’t know,” he stammers through an awkward chuckle.
You shrug despite the pang of disappointment in your chest. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to—”
“It’s not that!” Bob blurts, rushing to hold you by the waist when you threaten to move off him. (He forgets, for maybe the first time ever, to be scared of touching you.) He swallows hard at the look you give him, blinking wildly with glassy eyes. “I just… I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you assure him with a pretty laugh. “You don’t even have to touch me.”
Bob’s brows furrow. “What?” he wonders aloud.
You don’t answer him with words. You just flash him a mischievous smirk and shift on the couch until you’re no longer straddling him. You press your lips to his — once, twice, and then a third time — in a silent reminder to relax before your mouth trails down his neck once more. 
You move past his jaw, to his pulse, and down towards his collarbone, sinking further onto your knees as you kiss down his body.
Bob exhales a shuddering breath and tilts his heavy head towards the back of the couch. He feels his hands start to ache with the urge to touch you. He balls them into fists, instead.
“Relax, baby,” you murmur between the kisses you press to his clothed sternum. “Let me make you feel good.”
Bob tenses beneath you when your hands brush his cock, growing harder in his boxers by the second. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ignore the need swelling inside him. “Um… Maybe we should…” he stammers, voice shaking. “Maybe we should, like, slow down?”
He covers his desperate plea with a wavering half-smile.
You nod, now fully on your knees between his spread thighs, and give him a kind, tight-lipped smile in return. “‘Course. I’ll go slow. Promise.”
You feel Bob trembling beneath your hand when you lift the hem of his shirt. Your fingers brush the fine hair sprinkled on his lean stomach as you press chaste kisses to every inch of revealed skin. He takes in a shaking breath, burning red hot under your touch. 
He doesn’t know how to tell you how sensitive he is — how, if he thinks about you and your soft touches for too long, that he’ll explode. So he doesn’t. He just squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think about anything other than the way you’re making him feel just now.
“I’ll take care of you, Bobby. I promise,” you slur between languid kisses, holding his shirt up with one hand while your other teases the hem of his boxers. “I’ll make you feel so good—” Your lips brush the coarse hair peeking from his waistline. You flash him a pair of glassy, mischievous eyes. 
“And maybe—” A kiss. “If you’re real good—” Another, a bit lower this time. “I’ll let you fuck me—”
Bob face twists. His brows furrow, his eyes shut tight, his nose scrunches at the bridge. He makes a strangled noise in his throat, growing so tense beneath you that it makes him tremble. 
You just freeze, frightened that you might’ve done something wrong. You did just promise to take it slow, after all — and here he is now, cumming in his boxers. 
He feels the warmth of his orgasm wetting the plaid fabric and sticking awkwardly to his skin. He fails to stave off the pang of embarrassment searing his chest.
“I’m sorry,” both of you blurt at the same time.
Bob’s eyes snap open, still slightly glazed over. “You’re sorry?!” he gapes. “What are you sorry for?”
You falter for a moment. “I don’t know,” you answer and start to laugh. 
The pretty sound fills the quiet tower, and Bob can’t help but laugh along with you. He tilts his heavy head back against the couch as you rise from your knees, straddling him once more and avoiding the sensitive mess in his pants. 
“Did it feel good, at least?” you ask, smoothing your palms over his trembling shoulders.
Bob nods and swallows hard. “Yeah,” he mumbles, then clears his throat. “I haven’t— Haven’t been with anyone in a while, so… I guess you could say I’m… a little out of practice.”
“Don’t worry about it, okay?” you coo, ducking down to press a chaste kiss to his mouth. Even with his eyes closed, he can hear the smile in your voice as you whisper, “I’ll whip you back into shape in no time, Reynolds.”
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vintagebuckybarnes · 7 months ago
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In Vino Veritas
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Pairing → Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Lab Assistant! Female! Reader
Total Wordcount → 3.5K
Summary → It all started when you and the Avengers enjoyed drinks during the afterparty back at the Avengers Tower. There, Tony revealed one of your deepest secrets, and even though you wish it had never come to light at first, you’re glad it did when the man you love stands on your doorstep, ready to start the rest of your life together.
Tags & Warnings → Semi-canon compliant, Avenger! Bucky Barnes, Female! Reader, Tony’s Lab Assistant! Reader, Bucky’s past as TWS is mentioned, emotional hurt/comfort, mutual pining, some cursing, and explicit sexual content.
Tags: Smut → Grinding, begging, some dirty talk, praise, teasing Bucky, protected sex, cowgirl position.
Story Rating → Explicit
Author’s Note → This story is beta'd by the wonderful @late-to-the-party-81, and I cannot thank you enough for that. I hope you'll all enjoy my story, which is filled with some angst, lots of fluff, and some smut to top it all off! 💜
Writing Prompts @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition → “There is no us.” | Riding | In vino veritas | “Touch me.” @fandom-free-bingo Medical Edition → Crush at first sight @julybreakbingo Post-JBB → Being confronted about their feelings for another
Tags List → If you’d like to be tagged in my stories, you can add yourself to my tag list here.
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The evening starts fine, good, even. But it all takes an unexpected turn when the man you work for - Tony Stark - reveals your secret. A secret that you’d only recently revealed to him.
Earlier that day, you’d spotted Bucky as he was working out and from that moment on your mind has been with him instead of your usual work and tasks.
“Hello, Y/N? Anyone home in there?” Tony asks as he lays a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. You look up at him with a worried look while he smiles back at you with a kind expression. A soft sigh escapes your lips as the thoughts in your head wander off again, specifically how his back looked underneath the tank top he wore in the gym while doing squats. Not only that, but you also can’t stop thinking about the way his ass looked in the sweatpants he wore. In a word, magnificent.
“Is everything okay with you? You’ve been a bit off your game today.” As Tony sits next to you, you put down the screwdriver you were holding - the one he asked you three times to pass to him - before turning to face him, your gaze focusing somewhere on the wall behind him. For a moment, there’s a silence between you as you gather the courage to tell him what’s been on your mind.
“Well, uhm- There’s something, or someone, that I can’t stop thinking about, and it’s taking over my mind every second of every day. It- It’s Bucky,” you say almost in a whisper. For a few seconds, Tony is completely silent as he lets the thought of you having a crush on one of his fellow Avengers sit in his mind. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he reaches out for your hand and takes it between his warm ones.
“You know that I’ll always support you in everything, right? I supported you when you expressed your desire to halt your life as an Avenger and retrain as my lab technician, and I supported you when you moved out of Avengers Tower to have your own home with more peace. This is not going to be any different. All I’m hoping for is that he will make you the happiest and best version of you, as you deserve nothing less.”
Tears brim at your waterline as Tony tells you this, and even though you deeply appreciate him, his words, and everything he has done for you, you can’t help but still feel a bit… odd about the fact you told him you’re having a crush on Bucky. That you have a crush on the man who was once the most feared assassin in the world under the hands of HYDRA.
“Now, can you hand me that screwdriver before your thoughts wander off to him again?” your boss asks in a teasing tone, making you smile as you grab it and hand it to him. Somehow, he always seems to know the right thing to say, and it's exactly why you enjoy spending time by his side while learning everything there is to know about his lab and what's going on in there.
Just as you’re about to get comfortable with another drink in your hand, you meet the gaze of the man you’re crushing on, and you feel heat coursing through your veins. The lines around his deep blue eyes intensify as he smiles at you, his attention making every last thought in your brain disappear. You’re so captivated by how Bucky looks at you that you miss your seat as you sit down. However, before you fall, you’re caught by a pair of solid arms that prevent you from hitting the floor.
“Careful there, Little One,” Thor says in his deep voice, his accent always making the butterflies in your stomach go wild. Even though you’d known Thor since you were young, you couldn’t help but get a little flustered by the nickname, and he smiled at you as you were finally sitting on the chair you intended to use.
“Thank you, Thor,” you whisper before sipping your cocktail. Around you, the conversations are starting to become a little blurry as you focus on Bucky and everything he has to say, his lips forming around the words effortlessly. When you suddenly feel a little shove against your arm, you yelp, making everyone go silent as they look at you.
“What did you do that for?!” you ask Thor in a low voice, but all he does is point to Tony, who obviously has something to say as he’s waving for everyone’s attention. There are moments when you enjoy the fact that alcohol can bring out people’s true feelings or thoughts, also known as in vino veritas, but not now. Oh no, now you wish you could disappear as you listen to the words coming out of Tony’s mouth.
“Guys, you really shouldn’t say this to Bucky or Y/N, but they’re having a massive crush on one another!” Tony says in a loud whispering tone, but what he fails to notice in his inebriated state is that you two are sitting right across from one another, enjoying the afterparty just like everyone else. Or at least, you were enjoying the afterparty until your secret got out.
The glass you were holding falls out of your hand before shattering into pieces on the floor, and your feet carry you as fast as they can away from the party and away from your worst nightmare come true. The music behind you fades away as you turn one corner after another, tears burning in your eyes as the event repeatedly replays in your mind. Your lungs start to burn as you keep running, the stinging feeling in your side increasing as you run out of the Avengers Tower into the night.
Meanwhile, Bucky’s world feels like it has taken a 180-degree turn. Mere minutes ago, he could only fantasize that you could have feelings for him, but now? A wave of disbelief washes over the super soldier, his expression showing pure surprise as he takes the moment in. For him, it was a crush at first sight from the momentyou walked into the training room on your first day. Over the years, his feelings have intensified, although he has only told Steve about his crush - or rather his now deep-rooted love - for you.
And yet, now that the pair of you have been confronted about your feelings for one another, he doesn’t know what to do. He has replayed the moment he’d confess his feelings to you more times than he can count in his mind, and in none of those versions, this is one of the scenarios that had appeared. It’s only when Steve grabs his arm and pulls him away that he seemingly comes back to reality again.
“Bucky, how does Tony know about your crush on Y/N? I mean, I’m, of course, fine with you sharing it, but-”
“I don’t know, Steve, I don’t know, and it kills me,” Bucky says as he runs his fingers through his cropped hair.“Fuck- I was planning on telling her this week but… but now it’s ruined, and I didn’t even get the chance to talk to her, and-” It’s all Bucky can say as he fights the urge to punch the wall with his metal fist, both hands clenched by his side as he tries to regulate his breathing. Without warning, Steve pulls him into a hug, and Bucky’s arms snake around his best friend's waist as his fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt.
“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Steve whispers, though he’s not entirely sure that’s true because he knows as well as anyone that things don’t always go back to how they were before. Still, Bucky decides to believe him as they stand there for a little while longer, and he soaks in every bit of comfort he can get for now. Lord knows he’s going to need it.
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The past few days have been strange, to say the least. You haven’t been to the Avengers Tower since Tony revealed your now not-so-secret crush on the super soldier. You’re afraid of what will happen if you do. This also means you haven’t seen Bucky in a few days, and you miss him. You miss hearing his laugh, and you miss seeing how his mouth turns slightly upward as you hand him one of your baked goods, but most of all, you miss how his arms feel when he pulls you in for a hug.
Just as you’re about to make yourself a cup of tea, you get pulled from your thoughts by a soft but familiar knock on the door; only one thing can make that sound: Bucky’s metal hand knocking against the wood. For a moment, you contemplate your actions, but decide to give him at least a chance to talk, especially as it wasn’t him who laid out your feelings in front of everyone.
“Bucky, hi,” you say softly as you take in his appearance, your heart sinking as you do. It’s evident he hasn’t slept at all the past few days. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he doesn’t look as healthy as usual—more disheveled. The struggles he’s facing are apparent in his entire demeanor, and all you want to do is wrap him up in a warm blanket and cuddle him until the end of time.
“Hi,” he says hoarsely, and you step aside, allowing him to enter your apartment. He’s been here a few times already, and usually there’s a warmth radiating from you and every inch of the little place you call home, but ever since the party, it hasn’t been the same. It isn’t just the apartment, either. You feel different.
“Would you like some tea before we talk?” you ask to break the tension. “I was about to make some.”
He nods at you before wandering further into your apartment, and you head to the kitchen, picking out another mug for Bucky to use. Once he’s caught sight of your couch, he immediately takes a seat, a soft groan audible as he does. There aren’t many places more comfortable than the large couch that’s standing right here in your living room.
When you emerge a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of tea and a plate filled with chocolate chip cookies you baked fresh this morning, Bucky can’t help but smile at you. He gladly takes the tea with one of the cookies, as they’re his favorite, and when you sit down next to him, it feels just like it always has, as if nothing has changed. But you both know it has, and that’s why the super soldier’s now in your living room.
“So…” you start, unsure what to say now that he’s sitting on your couch. Bucky’s eyes are trained on the steaming tea in his hands, his thoughts going a mile a minute as he’s thinking about what he wants to say - other than confessing his love for you.
“So… uhm, we missed seeing you around the Tower,” Bucky starts, though you both know it’s mostly him who has missed seeing you there. You have always been a staple there during his mornings as you make him a cup of coffee, and during movie nights, you were always the one he could sit next to and enjoy the movie, but now that you’re not there, it’s like a piece of soul has left the Tower with you.
“I mean, yeah. It’s been a bit awkward for me to go back after what happened a few days ago,” you tell him, and a shudder of horror runs down your spine at the thought of having to face Tony again. A smile tugs at the corners of Bucky’s lips as he thinks back to what happened that night, a happy memory of your first meeting resurfacing in the back of his mind as he does.
“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. I’ve made some chocolate chip cookies, if you want some. However, I should warn you, Tony’s been on the prowl since I took them out of the oven, so I’ll advise you to be quick,” you say with a glare towards Tony, who has been eyeing them up since he walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. For the first time in a long time, Bucky showed something akin to a smile, and everyone looked at each other to ensure they saw it, too.
“Thank you,” he says lowly, grabbing one of the smaller ones on the plate, followed by a cup of coffee, before swiftly leaving the kitchen to spend more time in his room. Before Bucky even left the kitchen, Tony was on the cookies as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, and this time you let him.
“Can I- Is it okay if I tell you something? Because if I don’t say it now, I don’t know if I ever will,” Bucky says softly, and you nod before repositioning yourself so that you’re facing him. His gaze is still trained on his mug as he thinks carefully about his next words, afraid he might accidentally say the wrong thing.
“Tony was right. He is right, actually. When he said, we’re crushing on each other. I’ve been crushing on you since you offered me those chocolate chip cookies when Tony threatened to eat them all before anyone else had a chance to get them. It was like a switch flipped inside me back then, and I haven’t been the same since,” Bucky says, his mouth now in a line as he tells you about his feelings.
“Each time I look at you, it’s like I’m seeing an angel, and every time I hear your voice, it’s like a little piece of my soul is healing, too. I find myself drawn to you in every room and wonder what life has in store for us. But deep down inside, I know there is no ‘us’ yet. But I want there to be us. I want you, Y/N. I want you to be mine, in whatever capacity you’ll have me. If you want to stay friends, that’s okay with me, but if you want more, I’ll happily accept every bit of love you’re willing to offer me.”
Once Bucky’s done, you’re unsure what to say. What to think. What to do. You want to say that the feelings between you are mutual, that you’re in love with him and that you want nothing more than to be his, but something inside you is stopping you. So, instead of saying anything, you place your hand over his flesh limb, and his eyes slip shut at the feeling of your soft fingers against his rough hand.
“Bucky.” His name is a whisper on your lips, but it’s enough to make him look at you, to meet your gaze.
“I’m in love with you, too.”
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As soon as the words leave your lips, Bucky carefully put his tea on the coffee table before hauling you onto his lap, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your waist as your lips interlock in a passionate dance. He can’t get enough of your soft mouth slotting together with his and the way his tongue fights for dominance with yours as your fingers dig into his neck. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt a strong connection with someone, and you’re happy to explore it with Bucky.
Your hips grind over his growing length of their own volition,your body looking for any bit of friction it can get. Without warning, one of Bucky’s hands slides lower until he’s cupping your ass, making you gasp into his mouth as a result. Bucky can’t help but smile into the kiss as he pulls you impossibly closer, your legs spreading just a bit further as you sink against his muscular body.
“Hmm, I’ve been wanting this - you - for so long,” he says between the kisses trailing your jaw towards your ear, his teeth nipping on your earlobe as your head lolls to the side. With every passing second, your thoughts are melting away more and more, and all that’s left inside your mind is Bucky. Soon, his other hand joins the first as he helps you grind onto him, a groan falling from his lips as he sets a perfect pace for you both.
“B-Bucky—" his name sounds more like a whine than anything else. “I—I want you.”
“But you already have me, pretty girl, ‘m right here,” he says with a teasing lilt to his voice, his hands continuing to help you grind until you’re a complete mess for him. Your shorts are ruined, your arousal soaking through them and onto the bulge in his black jeans, much to Bucky’s joy. He was wondering what it would take to get you to this point, and it turns out it won’t take much.
He smiles against the skin of your neck, where he’s taking his time to mark you with hickeys and small bitemarks, all of which leave you a bit more of a moaning, begging mess on his lap, much to his pride. When one of your hands moves away from his neck and down his torso, he quickly catches on to what you’re doing. “Someone’s a little impatient today, huh?”
“Yes, oh god, yes! I need you to touch me, Bucky. I want to feel you inside me as you make me fall apart on your cock, and I need you to fuck me like there’s no tomorrow!” Your voice sounds more breathy than usual, but every care you thought you had has gone out the window. All you want is Bucky and his cock to ride, until you’re orgasming so hard and long you can’t remember your name.
“Okay, I will. Don’t you worry about anything, okay? Let me take care of you, and I’ll give you everything you need and more,” he reassures you in a shushing voice. You nod before kissing him again, which immediately deepens before he gently helps you get up, allowing you to take off your panties and shorts, and he can take off his pants and boxershorts, too. As soon as you’re both freed from your last pieces of clothing, you hand him a condom you retrieved from the side table drawer while he took the time to undress himself.
“Hmmm, looks so thick,” you tell him as you look at it with wide eyes, wondering how he’s going to fit inside you as you’re positioning yourself on his lap once more, your legs bracketing his thicks thighs as you get comfortable.
“I know, but I’m gonna go slow. Wouldn’t want to hurt you and your perfect, sweet little pussy.” He smiles as he holds his cock in place, your pliant body sinking onto him slowly as your fingers dig into his shoulders to steady yourself. Your hiss of pleasure is audible and your face contorts at the slight sting of him stretching you, but just like he promised, Bucky is taking it slow to ensure you’ll both have the most amazing first time.
As soon as you’re fully seated on his lap, your body goes limp against him, your face tucked in the crook of his neck as you adjust to his girth, and Bucky places soft kisses on your head while praising you through it all. “You’re doing so well for me, baby. Such a good girl for me, letting me take the lead and giving you exactly what you need.”
A small smile appears on your face as you look up at him with big, doe-like eyes, and he can’t help but smile back as the back of his fingers gently caress your cheek. He may have thought you were beautiful before, but nothing compares to this moment. 
“I love you, Y/N, and I promise to take care of you with every fiber of my being,” he whispers, his lips sealing his promise against your cheek. Your eyes fall shut at his words, and his hand moves down your side until it’s on your hip again, ready for you to let him know when you’re good to go. Your bodies work in complete sync with one another with every rise and fall of your chest, and his hands guide you beautifully as you slowly sink and rise on his length.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, and it doesn’t take long for both of you to find your highs for the first time, and they’re serving as a promise of everything else that’s still to come in this lifetime. A few days ago, you and Bucky didn’t even know you felt the same about one another, but now you’re sharing the start of the rest of your lives, and it’s all thanks to Tony. Because without him, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the man of your dreams how much you love him.
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Masterlist → Bucky Barnes
GIF: Source → All the other graphics you see are made by @vintagebuckybarnes
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tchtokyo · 16 days ago
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I have a headcanon that bucky is really touchy ans cuddly with people he trusts 100% (sam) and absolutely avoids touch with those he doesn't trust 100% (the rest of the world)
So while u see bucky avoid touch like it's the black plague, when u see him with sam he becomes the most touch starved person (and I feel like he is, bc maybe before everything he did like to hug and to cuddle his family) he be following sam like a puppy just to get a hug, they have to kiss good night and good morning, kiss goodbye and hello, and all this demands by bucky.
And sam really really loves it. He loves bucky curling his huge body into sam when they are in the couch, loves when bucky demands a hug and when they hold hands. Best thing?? Bucky is the little spoon in bed and sam is living for it.
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suprsaturatd · 2 years ago
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it's what it says on the tin :)
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logicheartsoul · 3 months ago
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So I've been seeing a bunch of people reblogging some of my old gifs which made me want to go and work on them but didn't have enough energy for that so instead you get cropped screencap grabs and some edits.
These are from TFATWS gag reel:
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These are from the deleted scenes, most of these are edited except the first one:
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Of course you know I can't resist some Sambucky shots:
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Now this next one is definitely a scene that's been on my wips for ages but I figured the screenshots were good too. It's a discussion between Sam and Rhodey about what happened to Rhodey during Civil War and we ALL have read fic addressing it, and while I hated this was in a deleted scene, the fact it's actually a canon thing is kind of nice.
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Also, I had to take this shot because clearly a WHOLE lot of people (mostly the kids) wanted that (ice cream) cake lmao
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Marvel + text posts
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buckybarnes82 · 16 days ago
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Hiii
Requesting (if you want) some Bucky ball worship (you got this) 🤭
18+ only. Minors DNI (NSFW content.)
Hiii my beautiful angel, I hope I did this request justice. 😏
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Bucky couldn’t get the noise in his head to stop. Having vivid nightmare after vivid nightmare all morning, he decided to slip out of the house before the sun even rose. He needed to go on a run to clear his mind; it was the only thing that helped some days.
When you stretched your legs out in bed, you quickly noticed his side was already cold to the touch. You reached over to the bedside table to send him a text, wondering how long he had been gone. This wasn’t abnormal for him, but you still worried nonetheless.
“Good morning handsome, coming home soon? I’m about to get in the shower.”
It didn’t take long for you to get a response, your phone buzzing in your hand almost instantaneously.
“Morning, my love. Couple minutes away. I’ll join you.”
You hopped out of bed, quickly hanging towels for the two of you while you turned the faucet to start the warm water. You heard the front door slam shut, and Bucky wasted no time coming up behind you, wrapping his arm around your naked body. Both hands cupped your breasts instinctively and you threw your head back letting out a raspy moan while he tweaked your nipples between his fingers.
“Hmm, do you like that?” He rasped, the question obviously rhetorical.
Once you gained enough composure you turned toward him. “Get undressed” you smiled as you playfully slapped his butt before getting inside the walk-in shower. Bucky removed his clothes right there and left them in a pile on the bathroom floor before following you in.
The water pooled at your feet while you took in the sight of your husband, he was flushed from running, his muscles flexed, his hair sweaty and disarray. Your eyes wandered up and down, first to his pecs, then his toned abs, and eventually landing on his balls, admittedly one of your favorite physical features. The water droplets clung to them, making the pit of your stomach grow warm. Bucky followed your gaze knowing what you were looking at, a soft smile escaped him knowing you were still thinking about his hands on your nipples.
You traded him spots, letting him stand under the stream of water, watching the droplets run down his muscles. You swallowed hard, pressing down on the shampoo bottle beside you to start washing his hair.
Bucky smiled as you stood on your tip toes, his hands steadying your hips so you wouldn’t fall. “I can sit down over there, it’s easier” he motioned toward the built-in bench with his metal arm before rinsing his hair out himself.
You nodded following him over before asking what you always did when you knew he had a hard morning. You ran your nails lightly against his scalp as you scrubbed conditioner in, knowing he liked the way your fingers felt in his hair. His eyes closed as he let out a sigh of relief.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’m okay, the run helped” he looked up at you as you stood in front of him. His blue eyes were sincere, and he looked relieved to be here with you, so you nodded before he stood and changed positions with you.
“Your turn” he turned to get the shampoo bottle and you sat down on the bench just as he had moments before. Bucky knew you didn’t need to obviously but you liked the view in front of you.
“C’mere” you motioned with one finger as Bucky stood under the stream of water.
“Why?” He smirked, rubbing his free hand up and down teasingly stroking himself in front of you.
“You know why” you smirked, making direct eye contact with him now as you watched him walk toward you.
He stood facing you, trying his hardest to focus on scrubbing your hair like you did to him. Your hands quickly made their way to his dick stroking slowly, the other hand palmed his ballsack in your hands.
Loud moans erupted from your husband, uncontrollable as his head was thrown back, his hand weakly entangled in your hair. His Adams Apple bobbed up and down.
“Doll- mmm so sensitive there” his voice trembled a low raspy chuckle followed.
“You have such a pretty ballsack” you hummed, lightly running your fingernails across the wrinkled skin, ignoring the hitch in his breath before standing up and switching places once more. You lazily rinsed your hair, and Bucky sat down watching as the suds ran down your body before going back to tend to him.
“You’ve always liked it” his face was tinted rosy, the thought always made him shy for some reason.
“I love how sensitive it makes you” You got down on your knees, spreading his toned thighs apart to make room for you. Bucky's hands found your nipples again, lightly twisting them in his fingers before your mouth went to work.
“Won’t last long” he hummed, and you knew it was true but you didn’t mind it.
He leaned his head back, his eyes fluttering as you licked his sensitive skin, you knew to focus on his balls first. Breathy moans and grunts came from him as he gripped the shower wall.
“Use your words” you commanded, knowing he was already ready to come undone as you started to suck on his ballsack softly.
“Fuck, fuck, holy— fuck” was all he could think to say, his brain somewhat short-circuiting. “Feels so fucking good.”
“Need me to focus somewhere else?” You teased looking up at him between fluttering eyelashes, tapping his thigh.
He nodded, biting down hard on his knuckle to stabilize himself, leaving tooth marks against his skin.
You took him into your mouth, his hips bucking against you almost immediately and it didn’t take long for him to release down your throat, you made eye contact with his beautiful blues as you swallowed.
His chest heaved up and down, pupils blown as you straddled him, the water still loud and steamy behind you.
“Feel much better?” You giggled as you mumbled against his skin, kissing his cheek as your naked bodies stuck together, wet and warm.
“I’ll feel better when I get to fuck you” he rasped, and you knew by the look in his eyes that this was going to be a long, eventful weekend.
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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 25 days ago
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JUNE BUG ୨ৎ
welcome to the june bug masterlist! this treasure trove is filled with late night walks to the corner store, flickering porch lights, midnight drives and empty dirt roads.
each day of the sunny summer month of june i have decided to write a little summer based fic based off a character! each based off their "summer song" that i get a "summer vibe" for. (man i said summer a lot!)
this has been a few months in the making, and i hope you all enjoy reading each mini (or not so mini) fic. happy summer, my loves, and if its warm where you are- bask in the sun:)
as always- * is smut! so read with caution, you are responsible for your own media consumption<3
the playlist: here
yours truly -c
⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧
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⋆˚࿔ for the june bugs 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
╰┈➤ day one: american teenager ✮⋆˙ dean winchester x gf! reader in the back of the impala *
╰┈➤ day two: aquamarine ✮⋆˙ sam winchester x siren! reader
╰┈➤ day three: california dreamin ✮⋆˙ origins! logan howlett x younger! gf on a 70s roadtrip
╰┈➤ day four: cherry ✮⋆˙ bucky barnes x fem!reader at a drive-in theatre *
╰┈➤ day five: crush ✮⋆˙ sam winchester x hunter! reader *
╰┈➤ day six: fairytale ✮⋆˙ hades! bucky barnes x persephone ! reader
╰┈➤ day seven: flordia kilos ✮⋆˙ you and your boyfriend frank castle escape to the flordia beaches *
╰┈➤ day eight: groupie love ✮⋆˙ rockstar!bf! dick grayson x gf!reader on the road with him and his band
╰┈➤ day nine: golden hour ✮⋆˙ you work at a floral shop and a handsome stranger catches your eye (dick grayson x floralist reader x sex pollen) *
╰┈➤ day ten: headphones on ✮⋆˙ you and your best friend jason todd sneak off from a gala and feelings get confessed
╰┈➤ day eleven: hot n humid ✮⋆˙ baker! reader tries a new recipe of homemade ice cream for boyfriend! jason todd on a super hot day
╰┈➤ day twelve: if you lie down with me ✮⋆˙ husband! joel miller x fem! reader, and their domestic sundays at the farmers market
╰┈➤ day thirteen: love looks pretty on you ✮⋆˙ clark kent takes your virginity under the stars (fem! reader) *
╰┈➤ day fourteen: michelle pfeiffer ✮⋆˙ older! grungy! mechanic! jason todd x innocent! girly! reader *
╰┈➤ day fifteen: new romantics ✮⋆˙ flirty tension ensues as roommate! dick grayson takes you to the summer fair
╰┈➤ day sixteen: novacane ✮⋆˙ dealer! reader gets high with her favourite cilent/ local nerd bucky barnes *
╰┈➤ day seventeen: puppy love ✮⋆˙ older! lumberjack! bucky barnes takes care of his girlfriend when shes drunk (intoxication kink) *
╰┈➤ day eighteen: ribs ✮⋆˙ you and your (massive) boyfriend jason todd are forced to share your childhood bed as you visit home on summer vacation
╰┈➤ day nineteen: romeo ✮⋆˙ older! neighbour! jason todd x fem! reader *
╰┈➤ day twenty: she ✮⋆˙ roommate! dick grayson jerks off to you after he helps take care of you when you come home drunk *
╰┈➤ day twenty-one: stateside ✮⋆˙ when sam and dean winchester find themselves in your world, you offer them a safehaven until they can find a way back (inspired by the french mistake) *
╰┈➤ day twenty-two: stuck with me✮⋆˙ camp counsellor! fem! reader is forced against her will to be paired with the annoying and handsome dick grayson for the summer
╰┈➤ day twenty-three: summerboy ✮⋆˙ you find yourself calling your childhood best friend sam winchester something of a "summer boyfriend"
╰┈➤ day twenty-four: tyrant ✮⋆˙ when you hook up with an older, handsome cowboy named joel miller in the back of his truck *
╰┈➤ day twenty-five: the itch ✮⋆˙ your boyfriend jason todd ties you up because you can't stop itching your bug bites
╰┈➤ day twenty-six: whatcha doing ✮⋆˙ you invite your ex boyfriend matt murdock to your cousins wedding as your date... *
╰┈➤ day twenty-seven: you can be my daddy ✮⋆˙ when sam winchester accidently calls himself daddy *
╰┈➤ day twenty-eight: 2 hands ✮⋆˙ how your pornstar! boyfriend jason todd takes care of you outside of the bedroom *
╰┈➤ day twenty-nine: 13 beaches ✮⋆˙ you (gf!reader) and bucky barnes finally find privacy on a beach after he saves the world, and the press wont leave him be
╰┈➤ day thirty: 15 minutes ✮⋆˙ you sneak away with your boyfriend peter parker to have some "fun" *
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intrepidacious · 8 months ago
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about that night (the bugs and the dirt)
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summary: You never talk about that night, and Bucky never asks. Even though he can't help but suspect something is wrong.
pairing: bucky barnes x witch!reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: past character death and vague mentions of blood (yk, spooky stuff); there's no actual dialogue in this and the characters are worse for it 💛 please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.
a/n: it only took me three years but i finally managed to finish a fic in time for halloween 😌🎃 i genuinely don't know how to describe the vibes of this except buffy the vampire slayer season six meets "if lisa frankenstein was a drama" meets hozier's like real people do. have fun 🫶🏼
masterlist | read on ao3
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Something’s wrong.
Something’s been wrong for a while, but Bucky can’t quite put his finger on it. It’s a fragile thing, this knowledge, this certainty, lingering at the back of his mind like the dim light of a forgotten lamp, shimmering, seeping through the cracks.
Whenever he asks you, you tell him that everything is fine, and he wants to believe you, desperately. You wouldn’t lie to him, you with your luminous eyes and your soft smile. Deceptions would taste foul on your lips.
But something’s wrong.
It’s all wrong.
He’s always been too smart for his own good, and he’s going to find out, you know he will, but that’s precisely why you can’t let him. He’s going to know how far you’ve fallen, and he’s going to despise you for it.
So he forgets.
Sometimes, when he wakes up, his tongue is heavy with bile and dirt, his eyes crusted shut with something worse than bad dreams. Sometimes, when he listens closely, he can hear the air humming with lost hymns that are not from this earth.
Maybe he should’ve gotten used to that, by now; your walls have always had ears and mouths and eyes, after all. That’s the price for loving a witch, you’d say, back in the days when your smiles came easy. Wherever you are, you’re never alone.
It’s different than he remembers, though, even through the cracked and blurry pictures of his memories, his foggy mind, but he can’t put his finger on why. Darker. Colder. Damp. It’s like something has left.
Doubt follows his every waking hour, even more so when he tries to think of that night.
That night.
Oh, that night.
The taste of blood on your lips when you kissed him, desperately, like you hadn’t seen him in months. The muddy streaks on your arms when he looked at you in the pale moonlight, the scrape of dirt underneath your fingernails. It had been raining. You smelt like pain.
What had you been digging?
He needs to forget about that night and what it actually was you’d dug up, then. You’d told him you’d had to bury an animal that had gotten lost and died in the garden, and it was a half-truth even by the most generous account.
Dark, evil things happened that night, and no matter their intent, you were the sum of them.
You’d sacrificed a lamb to dig up a wolf.
He doesn’t remember your answer now, but it must’ve been enough for him, then. It must have been.
So he doesn’t ask again, no matter how hard uncertainty tugs on his lungs.
On that old, familiar path, he follows you home and feels like a stranger.
The blood itself was the easiest to wash off, and maybe that was the worst part. In the human world, crime rarely disappeared without a trace, but magic always left its mark.
You remember tumbling on your way back, almost tripping over your doorstep, a sudden pulse of energy pulling the breath from your lungs. These were your own four walls, the ones you’d blessed yourself, tended to and looked after for years, and they seemed to recoil.
Bucky caught your arm without even looking, catching you like he always had, and you crossed the threshold together. You looked at him, then, for the first time since the graveyard. You could feel his pulse under your grip, his heartbeat strong and loud enough to be mistaken for your own, but his gaze so uncertain, like he wasn’t sure he actually belonged here.
With you.
You made up your mind right then and there. He could never know.
You stir your tea as you always do, and you’ve set out his cup on the kitchen table. Alpine paws at it before he can pick it up, a fierce growl accompanying the sound of smashing porcelain.
She’s been angry with both of you, and he doesn’t know why. She keeps hissing at him, and she refuses to sit on your lap when you study your books next to the fireplace like she always used to. Like she’s punishing you in whatever little way she can for a crime he doesn’t understand.
You sigh, and you repair the cup with a flick of your wrist, and then you don’t reach out to pet that spot behind Alpine’s ears.
It’s little things like that.
And it’s your tired eyes.
Of course, no one else can know either; it’s not a risk you’re willing to take.
If Bucky notices the phone’s been unplugged all this time, he’s never said a word. He’s never been much for talking, anyway, but he does it even less so these days. You’ve both turned quiet around each other, but the only thing that matters is that you’re both still here.
Even now, you can feel the dark powers humming through your veins, just like you could that night. You hear the whispers calling out your name and see the shadows at the very periphery of your vision. They follow you into your dreams until you give up on them, slipping out of the warm embrace of your bed to hunch over the tome again, again, just a little more.
Perhaps you should worry about repercussions, but what for? After all, everything you did that night, you did out of love.
Everything you’ve done, you’ve done for him.
Sometimes, he doesn’t notice them for a very long time, and then it hits him all over again just how exhausted you look. When he wakes up in the middle of the night, your side of the bed is empty and the roof of his mouth tastes like ash and decay. In those moments, he thinks he might still be dreaming; his bones are heavy and cold and unyielding, and he lies there like something forgotten, and all of his thoughts revolve around you.
He’s so worried about you.
He wants to ask if it’s something he’s done. He wants to know if he can make it better, make you smile again like you always did at the sight of him, every time. But he’s afraid of the answer.
You’ve not been yourself and you know it, but at this point, you feel unable to stop it. It’s too late, anyway. The dead already walk to earth, and you’re the one to blame. You’re the one to thank.
Sometimes, the thought does hit you that there’s something a little wrong with you these days. But then he looks at you and he smiles, and you’re young and foolish and in love all over again, that weight of all those weeks of screaming and crying lifted with every glance, every touch, every kiss.
This, the uncertainty, is the worst part of it. It becomes his closest companion, and it only lifts slightly when you return to him, if only for a moment. When you do smile, when you put your hands around his neck and kiss him and he can feel real again, feel like himself again.
He barely notices that you will only look him in the eye when it’s dark, when he can lose himself in your touch, foreheads pressed together, breaths heavy and mingling, the only real creatures in the world. The sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.
Maybe you are wrong. Maybe you are wicked and evil and rotten to the core, and maybe there’ll be hell to pay for it yet.
But you’re not sorry.
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hearing hozier perform "like real people do" as a duet with victoria canal changed lives y'all
thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!! also, comments are trick or treats that last all year long. just saying 💛
oh, before we leave, here's an extra shoutout to @brandycranby for telling me this was fun and the perfect length. i accidentally made it longer again. love u 🫶🏼
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s0ftpining · 10 months ago
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one too many
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itiswormtimebaby · 2 years ago
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Here’s what I’m thinking about: 
Biker!Bucky (who also happen to be your brothers best friend) fucking your thighs. 
TW: 18+ oral (fem receiving), pussy job, thigh job, virgin reader (Bucky is very into it), no piv No YN, Reader is referred to as Bug and is described as being plus size but there are no other physical descriptors. Takes place after Biker!Bucky comforts you when you get way too high. 
Things had shifted after that blessedly damned brownie but despite all the begging you’d done for Bucky to finally split you open and take you apart on his cock he was valiant in his efforts to take it slow. Slow somehow including licking into your mouth at the back of a movie theater while two knuckles deep, having you ride his thigh at the food truck festival, and spending countless hours in bed between your spread thighs. 
It’s where you are now, the soft cotton of Bucky’s bedspread dampening under your sweat soaked skin, his tongue working sinful circles over your swollen nub causing you to clench, almost painfully, down on the two fingers he’s currently working you open on. 
And jesus fuck there’s enough slick dripping past them and onto your thighs for him to drown in; he’d happily go that way, buried face first in the creamy mess you’ve left just for him. 
Alternatively you could just smother him with your thighs, fuck, your thighs- his brain feels like mush as he turns his head just enough to begin placing wet open mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your right thigh, laving and nipping at each stretch mark as he moves across them, furthering wetting his face with you as he does so. He grunts as you pull particularly hard at his hair, arching your back and trying to redirect his mouth to your clit but he ignores you as he begins to lick long stripes across the meat of your thighs, tasting musk and salt and something unconventionally sweet. 
This could be the day, he thinks, your mewls going straight to his dick. He could finally fuck you open, carve out that space inside he now knows you’ve been saving just for him, claim you but- 
“Bu-u-ucky!” Your whine sounds nearly petulant, still wiggling to try and get his mouth back on you, “please!” But no, no  you’re not ready yet. 
Instead he sits back on his haunches, watching for a moment as his fingers disappear and reappear as he fucks you with them, each thrust a little harder than the last before his hands find their way up your body, spreading slick across the ample swell of your stomach before he’s cupping your face and half pulling your upper body off the bed to meet him in a filthy open mouthed kiss. 
“Let’s try something new, Bug.” 
You release a soft oomph as he pushes you back on the bed with little ceremony, back flat. You rub your thighs together in sweet anticipation, the sound of his belt buckle coming undone making you whimper, this could be it, this could be it, this could be- 
But no, instead of pressing the spongy head of his cock inside of you he uses it to circle your clit, thumb guiding it around and around before he begins to languidly thrust his cock through the messy lips of your gushing pussy. The flat length of it provides a friction like you’ve never felt before, your gasps and moans joining in with Bucky’s labored breathing each time the tip nudges your clit on each up stroke. After a few minutes of this, of clenching painfully around nothing, awareness only awarded to the pleasure he gives you and the pain he causes by leaving you empty inside, he pushes both of your thighs up to rest on your plush stomach and begins to fuck them. 
There’s no other way to describe it. Bucky is fucking your thighs, he’s gripping them painfully tight, pushing them together, and driving his length in and out between them, plenty lubricated by the slick that continues to escape you. The tip of his cock still manages to kiss your clit at each stroke. You're delirious with pleasure, keening and moaning and raking your nails down whatever bit of inked skin you can reach, and though his cock feels like heaven between your thighs it’s his voice that ultimately sends you over; 
“Fuck, Bug” he rasps “Fuck, Bug, you feel so good, my beautiful girl- my-Fuck”
His dark hair is limp against his forehead, plastered to it by his own sweat, and his mouth, that sinful mouth is still glistening with proof of his devotion to your pleasure as he continues to talk you through it.
“If it feels this good now just- fuck, just think about when I’ve got you stuffed full of my cock. Christ, I can’t wait, I’m going to fucking ruin you, Bug.” 
With one particularly hard nudge from the head of his cock to your clit you let go with a cry, something that vaguely sounds like his name and has him also reaching his end, painting the messy lips of your pussy white with his cum. 
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lovebugism · 6 days ago
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A request for the Thunderbolts (if you're interested no pressure <3)! - being caught/interrupted having sex
ty for requesting! :D below you will find four separate blurbs for the thunderbolts (bucky, john, yelena, and bob), each with their own separate summaries and a whole lotta smut!! enjoy :D
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BUCKY BARNES X READER — you and bucky try to have some alone time after a mission gone wrong but, like most things, it doesn't go as planned (0.9k words)
Bucky Barnes has been waiting for this all day.
The need within him borders on primal now. Adrenaline and yearning course through his blood like fire and ice water in his veins; a near-lethal concoction of anger and want and craving. It’s the job that makes him this way, Bucky always tells himself — if it wasn’t always so life or death, and if you weren’t always so willing to throw yourself into the line of fire, he figures he’d be as even-tempered as they come.
But this latest mission wasn’t nearly as easy as Valentina made it out to be. The six of you scattered for safety, and somewhere in the gunfire, Bucky lost sight of you. It took four hours for the dust to finally settle, and for you and John to stumble back to the rundown motel in the middle of nowhere that your boss mistakenly called a ‘safehouse.’ Neither of you sported anything more than couple scrapes and a bruised ego, but Bucky hugged you with enough force to knock the breath from your lungs, anyway.
“You’re okay…” he mumbled into your hair within a sigh of relief.
“I was,” you joked. “Until you started suffocating me.”
Bucky loosened his hold but never quite let you go, while John shifted uncomfortably behind you. “I’m okay, too, guys. Thanks for asking.”
Bucky channels all that stifled grief and rage into you now, in each of his rhythmic thrusts into your pulsing pussy. The thin motel bed creaks beneath your bodies with every roll of his hips. A lewd sort of symphony swells within the walls of the dark, dank motel room accordingly — a sinful orchestra of squeaking, panting, clapping, and moaning.
He feels the very beginnings of an orgasm tightening in the pit of his lean stomach. His hands ball the pillow into his fists on either side of your head, and you smile deliriously up at him.
“Close?” you pant, fighting back a moan when he slides into you just right, the coarse thatch of pubic hair above his cock rutting perfectly against your swollen clit. 
Bucky nods obediently, then ducks his heavy head to your shoulder. The ends of his hair tickle your jaw while he exhales quiet grunts into your neck, right over your racing pulse. 
“I know you are,” you coo through labored breaths, nails etching crescent shapes into shoulders. “I know you need it, Buck. C’mon— Cum for me.”
His hips stutter against yours. His rosy mouth parts to exhale a broken whine. He nearly lets himself go until a knock at the door brings him to — urgent, rapid, and unable to be ignored.
Yelena’s deep voice comes muffled from outside. “T-minus five minutes before the military shows up! Whoever’s not outside is getting left behind,” she announces far too casually, then strolls to knock on the next door. “So much for a safe house,” you hear her grumble as she goes.
Your legs lock around Bucky’s hips when he threatens to pull out of you. You meet his subtle look of shock with something stern and mischievous, an unstoppable force to an immovable object. 
“Did I say you could stop?” you ask him.
Bucky blinks like an owl, then shakes his head in response.
“Then cum for me.”
He buckles down over you again, resting the bulk of his weight on top of your pliable body, while his thrusts turn shallow and irregular. 
He cums inside of you much sooner than he would’ve liked, because he had every intention of dragging this out until daybreak — until the only words you could think of were his name and the pleas to let you orgasm. But you have far too much control over him for that, and he quickly turns into putty in your hands. 
Upon his release — quick, unshared, and premature, like a total teenager — neither of you shares a word while you hurry to get dressed. You help each other put on your tactical gear and rush out the door in time to find the rest of the team piling into the rusted van parked outside.
The tin can was supposed to be inconspicuous enough to carry a team of so-called New Avengers, but nothing could be discreet with Alexei behind the wheel.
“Just in time!” the older man shouts when you and Bucky pile into the back seat.
The door slams behind you, and Alexei peels out of the pitch black parking lot, old tires squealing. His wide smile makes his eyes squint at the edges when he peers at you through the rearview mirror. It makes you wonder if he’s slept.
You shift uncomfortably, sandwiched between a pair of broad shoulders, trying hard to ignore the sensitivity between your thighs. 
“We were about to leave you,” John deadpans from beside you, voice gruff with leftover sleep. 
You squint at him while he props his tired head against the window. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Walker.”
Yelena twists in the passenger seat, smirking at you over her shoulder. Her box-dyed locks are wild from the sleep she never got. “What were you two doing in there?” she lilts, Russian accent deep and gravelly.
“Sleeping,” Bucky monotones.
Ava scoffs from the row in front of you, though you can hardly see her from here. She takes up most of the room in the middle seat, resting her head on her backpack and her legs in Bob’s lap. “Yeah, I bet,” she laughs.
“We were!” you try to argue, though the break in your voice is hardly convincing.
Even Bob turns around with a suspicious squint in his kind eyes. “The walls were criminally thin, to be fair,” he mumbles, almost apologetically.
“Sorry…” you waver.
“Hey! Do not apologize!” Alexei shouts from the front seat, waving his pointer finger in the air. “There is nothing wrong with needing a little bit of release—”
The van fills with a chorus of annoyed groans before he can properly finish his sentence.
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JOHN WALKER X READER — you and john try to have a quickie on a mission, but mistakenly forget to turn off your comms (1.1k words)
John Walker saw it coming.
He knew what he was in for the moment the idea fell from your mouth — the blueprint of an elaborate heist to return the smuggled vibranium back to Wakanda, for which each of the New Avengers had their role.
Alexei had been honored to be a distraction, to brush elbows with the wealthiest people in the world and get his fill of complimentary champagne. John, however, was slightly offended that his only part in the whole thing was to woo the woman running the gala long enough to catch her in a lie.
“That’s it?” he laughed from the opposite end of the long table. “You want me to… flirt with some woman I don’t even know?”
You nodded. “Yes. I want you to flirt and look pretty— That’s what you’re best at.”
Yelena fought back a laugh. John shifted uncomfortably in his seat, swallowing through a pang of mild embarrassment. “And it won’t make you jealous?” he wondered aloud.
“Why would I be jealous?” you scoffed.
“Well, what if she doesn’t give in right away?” the blonde man challenged, folding his strong arms over the table to lean in close. “What if she thinks I actually want to have sex with her—? What if she doesn’t want to tell me anything until I’ve had sex with her?”
You hesitated, for only a fleeting moment, then shrugged a lazy shoulder in response. “Whatever it takes.”
John nodded slowly and leaned back again, as though he were taking your words as some kind of dare.
Alexei, unable to read the room, then offered, “Well, if Walker’s too scared to do it, I would be happy to take one for the team and sleep with this strange woman—”
The plan went exactly as you thought it would.
Maybe a little too well.
John Walker plays his part to perfection, the only way he knows how. Turns out, you were right — he was best at flirting and looking pretty, it seems — because it takes very little work on his part to get what he wants.
He dials his charm to eleven, like he knows you’re watching over him; and the drunk woman, worth more money than Walker will ever see in his life, fawns over him with ease. He gets the intel and then some, sporting a smirk and a pink lip print on his cheek.
“Did ya get that, honey?” he asks into his comm, smiling at the nearest security camera because he knows you’re watching him from there.
“Don’t look so smug,” you grouse in his ear. “Meet me at the rendezvous point when you’re done gloating.”
John’s able to sneak his way into the basement, thanks in part to Alexei’s Russian drinking game that he’s roped a group of drunken elites into.
He finds you waiting for him in the security room, all dolled up to blend into the party you never actually attended. The thin, emerald silk of your dress drapes over your body like soft, summer rain.
John loses his breath at the sight of you, quickly forgetting that he came here to gloat, as the door clicks shut behind him.
“Where’s everybody else?” he asks, walking to stand behind you in front of the wall of security cameras. You can see the entire gala from here, every bustling body filmed in black-and-white static.
He stands close enough behind you for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body. He can smell the vanilla perfume in your hair the same way you can smell the oaky cologne on his neck.
“Ava and Bob are tracking down your new girlfriend,” you quip, pointing to the screen at the bottom left corner where the two of them rush down the hallway. “And Yelena and Bucky are jetting off to the super luxurious private island your girlfriend really wanted to take you to.”
“She still waiting for me in her room?” John wonders, eyes flitting across the screens ahead of him.
“Yep,” you nod without looking back at him. “You can probably still catch her before the others if you’re fast enough. You know, if you were serious about that good time you wanted to show her.”
John laughs. You feel the exhale of the warm breath against your shoulder, right before he leans in to press a kiss to your bare skin.
“You’re so jealous,” he croons lowly into your neck.
You fight a shiver when his scruff brushes against you there. “I’m not jealous,” you insist proudly, shrugging your shoulder and dipping away from his touch. 
You spin on your heel and brace yourself against the table to slide yourself on top of it. John migrates instinctively towards your parted thighs.
“No?” he presses sarcastically with his head tilted like a puppy.
“No. ‘Cause she’s about to go to prison,” you say, nodding towards the camera where Ava leads the confused woman, dressed in nothing but a silk robe, out of her hotel room. “And you’re about to fuck me.”
“Really?” John hums, despite settling in between your spread legs like he was made to do it. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”
You use his tie like a leash to pull him closer, smiling with a sadistic look in your eye. “Don’t keep me waiting, Walker.”
It’s a mess of scrambling limbs. John hurries to free his cock from the confines of his slacks while you lift the skirt of your dress to slide your panties to the side. 
You watch with lidded eyes, propped against the square screens behind you, while John works himself the rest of the way hard with his fist. You inhale the sweet scent of his cologne when he leans over you, and bite back a whimper when he slides slowly inside of you.
The quiet security room fills quickly with the sounds of heavy breaths and quiet moans — but before John can fuck you the way he wants, the door swings suddenly open.
Bob stumbles in, mouth already parted to say something, but his eyes widen in shock before he can.
“Jesus, Bob!” John shouts, jerking out of you and tucking his stiff cock back into his pants.
The curly-haired boy falters for a moment. He knows he should leave, but his brain isn’t working properly. He turns around to face the corner instead. “Sorry!” he squeaks. “I’m sorry!”
“What are you doing in here?” you pant.
“You said to meet at the rendezvous point!”
You and John share an anxious look. Both of you have forgotten about the in-ears and the live microphone inside them. “You’ve been hearing us on comms?” you waver, distantly fearful of the answer. “Like, this whole time?”
Bob nods. “Yeah…?”
“Why didn’t you say something?” John snaps.
Ava’s voice crackles suddenly through the microphone. “Well, we didn’t want to be rude—”
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YELENA BELOVA X READER — walker almost catches you and yelena having a "late night snack" in the kitchen (1k words)
Yelena Belova can’t help herself.
It’s the whiskey running through her veins, maybe, or the way you look in the yellow refrigerator light. She forgets all about the movie paused upstairs and the late-night snack the two of you came searching for at three in the morning.
You bend at the waist, reaching for something deep in the fridge, and your t-shirt rises to reveal your underwear. Modest. Cotton. Pale pink and decorated with so many cream-colored stars.
It drives Yelena wild. 
You leave the carton of milk on the counter and stand on the tips of your toes, reaching for the boxes of cereal Walker always keeps on the highest shelf. You just barely manage to grab the Cinnamon Toast Crunch container when you feel Yelena press herself against your back, caging you between her body and the counter’s edge.
“Excuse me,” you giggle and struggle to spin in her hold.
You just barely manage to catch Yelena’s lazy smile before she leans in closer. “You’re excused,” she murmurs, voice low and smooth as honey.
She kisses you once, twice, and then a third time — longer and more languid than before — then begins to trail her lips down your jaw. 
You grin when she licks over your pulse point. Her fingers ball the hem of your shirt into her fists. “I really want to finish that movie, Lena…” you lilt knowingly.
“We will,” she hums, half-muffled against you. “Right after I make you feel good.”
She goes to sink to her knees in front of you. You hold tightly to the outsides of her elbows to stop her, eyes wide and glittering with panic. “Not here,” you scold with a shake of your head.
Yelena’s face scrunches in a stubborn, girlish pout — far too cute to be a world-class assassin. “Yes, here,” she argues.
“What if someone walks in?”
“No one will walk in. I promise.”
She smiles when your hardened gaze refuses to waver. She leans in close, trailing the tip of his nose over the bridge of yours. Her breath fans over your cupid’s bow. “It’s late, everyone’s sleeping. And I’ll be quick, okay?”
Her fingers dip beneath your shirt, curling over the hem of your panties. She doesn’t know how wet you are for her already. You don’t know how her mouth is watering for a taste of you now.
You huff and turn to the side, finding the blinking green numbers on the stovetop: 2:57 a.m. 
“Fine,” you cave. “But I’m only giving you three minutes.”
Yelena falls slowly to her knees. “I only need one,” she smirks, pressing a chaste kiss to your clothed stomach as she slides your pretty underwear to the side with an expert hand.
You scoff. “That’s very presumptuous of y—” She licks a fat stripe up the length of your pussy. You sigh a broken moan. “—Oh…”
Her hands carress the backs of your thighs, just beneath your ass, as she kisses your cunt the way she would your mouth.
Your knees threaten to buckle when her lips lock with your sensitive clit, sucking gently there until you keen. You feel her smiling against you when you brace yourself on the counter’s edge to keep from falling.
Yelena’s mouth is a merciless thing. She has every intention of making you cum in a minute, just like she promised she would. She focuses mostly on your swollen clit — licking, then sucking, then sucking and licking — to pull a swift and powerful orgasm from your body. 
You think she would’ve broken a record if Walker hadn’t walked in at the absolute worst time.
You tense when the hall light turns on. His steps are slow and heavy, like he’s barely lifting his feet off the ground. John turns the corner, dressed in sagging sweatpants and a tank top, and flinches at the sight of you there — leaning awkwardly against the counter. 
With the kitchen island in the way, he can’t see Yelena from where he’s standing — or how she’s sucking an orgasm most devilishly from your body.
You’re grateful when he stops short in the doorway. You’re less grateful when your girlfriend refuses to cease her merciless assault on your pussy.
“What are you doing up?” John asks, voice gravelly with sleep.
“Oh, you know, just—” You clear your throat when your voice wavers. “Just getting something to eat.”
He nods politely and takes another step.
Panic swells within you the same way your orgasm does.
“Did you need something?” you blurt, fighting back a whimper when Yelena's teeth scrape gently along your clit.
John’s brows furrow, but he makes no mention of how strange you’re being. “I was just getting some water—”
He takes another step. You reach for a rogue water bottle and chuck it across the room, perhaps more forcefully than you mean to.
“Here you go!” you shout with a wavering smile, feeling your orgasm tightening in the pit of your stomach.
John catches the plastic thing against his chest. He scoffs a tired laugh and shakes his head. “Thanks, weirdo…” he mumbles and walks away.
You don’t relax until the hall light has turned off and you’ve heard his bedroom door click shut again. Then you deflate against the kitchen counter — one hand propping yourself up and the other holding tight to the back of Yelena’s head.
You give the short, blonde tendrils an especially sharp tug and she moans into your pussy, heavy eyes fluttering shut.
Your thighs tremble on either side of her face when you cum. You bite your lip until it hurts in a feeble attempt to keep yourself quiet. The kitchen fills with the sound of your subdued whimpering as Yelena sucks the remnants of your orgasm from your weeping cunt.
She doesn’t stop until you’re pushing her away.
Yelena leans back, wiping her glistening mouth with the back of her hand. She smiles while you catch your breath. “How was it?” she quips.
“I’m so getting you back for that,” you pant. “Just so you know.”
“Oh…” she croons sarcastically, rising to full height again. “Are you now?”
You nod once, lidded eyes glinting with something stern and mischievous.
Yelena tries not to cower at the way you look at her, like you’re some kinda succubus who can’t wait to swallow her whole.
“The entire tower is going to hear you screaming before I’m done with you, Belova.”
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ROBERT REYNOLDS X READER — the one where alexei finally learns to knock before entering your bedroom (1k words)
Bob Reynolds is having the most amazing dream.
It’s of you and him, all tangled in an unmade bed, and bathing in the morning glow of a golden sunrise. You’re pressed against the side of him, heavy and warm, with your arm tucked under the blanket. You rub his half-hard cock over his boxers and press chaste kisses up and down the length of jaw. Bob’s mouth tugs upward in a lazy smile as he exhales slowly through his nose.
His eyes flutter open on their own accord. 
He finds his bedroom soaked in the same orange glow he was dreaming about. He blinks the haze of sleep from his eyes, and only then registers your body pressed against his — and the way you knead his stiff, clothed cock with a gentle hand. 
Bob wakes from one dream only to enter the next. His sigh of contentment leaves in a grumbled moan in his throat.
He feels your smile curl against his jaw. “Good morning,” you hum against his skin.
Bob nods until the words catch up to him, chestnut curls in a frizzy halo around his head. “Yes, it is…” he jokes, words weighed down with sleep.
Your body trembles with a quiet laugh from where you’re lying along his side. “Well, you were poking me in the back to be fair,” you say, punctuating your murmurs with another kiss to his neck. “So this is kinda your fault, if you think about it.”
Bob might’ve argued if he wasn’t already so close to his orgasm. Your hand dips beneath the hem of his boxers, using his pearly pre-cum as lubricate while you glide your fist up and down his cock.
His stomach tenses — there’s a knot at the pit of it he feels tightening, bound to snap at any moment.
His mouth parts to speak, but a pathetic whine escapes instead.
“You don’t care, do you, Bobby?” you coo to him, mouth brushing the shell of his ear. “You just wanna cum, don’t you?”
He nods wordlessly, eyes squeezed shut.
“Use your words.”
“Yes,” Bob squeaks obediently, right before he sighs. “Yes, please…”
With his eyes still shut, he feels the mattress dip beside him as you crawl on top of his body. The blankets shift to accommodate you as you settle between his legs.
“Where do you wanna cum, then?” you ask, too innocently for how demoniacal you're being just now. “In my hand or in my mouth?”
“Your mouth,” Bob answers instantly, voice breaking as cock jerks in your fist. “In your mouth, please— In your mouth.”
You nod, even though he can’t see you, and smile wide at the broken look on his face. “Good boy,” you hum, just to make his cock drool, before you dip beneath the covers. 
You tuck the hem of his boxers beneath his balls, keeping the base of his cock in your fist as you lick gently at the tip. You savor the salty tang of his pre-cum when you suckle at his sensitive head with no warning. Bob tenses immediately beneath you. A moan escapes from his parted mouth, filling the quiet bedroom.  
“Sorry!” he squeaks when he realizes how loud he’s being, exhaling a trembling breath and squeezing his hands into fists. He yearns to touch you, but not without permission. “I’m sorry, baby…”
If you’re angry with him, you don’t show it.
You just take is cock down your throat and until he keens. You work at him swiftly and mercilessly — knowing that, at any moment, it’ll be seven in the morning, and the rest of the tower will be up and recruiting for the latest mission.
You need Bob to cum before then.
So you swallow around the length of his cock and cup his sensitive balls in your hand. It’s a near-lethal combination that you only use during your quickies — or when you’re especially trying to torture him. 
“Can I cum?” Bob pants when he feels the knot tightening in his stomach. “Please, can I cum?”
You don’t answer him with words. You can’t with your nose buried in his pubic hair and his cock stuffed down your throat. You hum affirmatively around him instead, “Mhm.” 
The added stimulation makes him burst. Two salty ropes of warm cum pool in your mouth.
“Oh— shit!” 
His moans turn into something more urgent, fearful even, as your bedroom door clicks suddenly open.
Both of you jerk into upright positions — you on your knees, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and Bob cupping his palms over his still twitching cock.
You find Alexei standing in the doorway, with a steaming breakfast burrito clutched in his fist. He blinks hard, like he’s trying to discern exactly what it is he’s looking at.
He swallows down his mouthful and fights back a sudden wave of nausea. 
“Team meeting downstairs in five,” is all he says, half-detached and strangely robotic, before turning back the way he came.
“Shut the door!” you call to his disappearing figure.
He doesn't seem to hear you.
“Lenaaaa!” he shouts over you, Russian voice booming throughout the quiet tower. “Never make me do that again!”
You and Bob are only slightly late to the team meeting in question.
The room is deafeningly silent, heavy with a nameless tension. Neither of the team seems to look at you with anything other than sleep in their eyes — other than Alexei, of course, who sits slouched at the head of the table.
Yelena pets unenthusiastically at his shoulder, begrudgingly comforting the pouting man.
You take your designated seats at the long table without a word — you at the opposite end, and Bob sitting most adjacent to you.
Alexei’s eyes harden into a pitiful glare. “Is there anything you two want to say to me?” he wonders dramatically, accent sounding deep in his throat. “An ‘I’m sorry,’ perhaps?”
Bob shifts uncomfortably, gaze averted. “Sorry—”
“Learn how to knock,” you deadpan, then flash a cynical smile that makes the man cower. “Or I’ll show you something a lot worse than what you saw this morning.”
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vintagebuckybarnes · 8 months ago
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Pumpkin Spice And Everything Nice
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Pairing → College Student! Boyfriend! Bucky Barnes x College Student! Partner! Gender Neutral! Reader
Total Wordcount → 2.2K
Summary → Falling in love with your roommate, Bucky, has been one of the best things ever to have happened to you, and he’s showing you every single day how much he loves you. Today, you’ll turn the tables around by taking him on a surprise date after he tells you he’s never been to a pumpkin patch. Together, you will make some memories you will cherish forever, and a tradition might also be born from it.
Tags & Warnings → Canon divergence, college au, roommate au, roommates turned lovers, domestic bliss bursting the seams of this story, implied lovemaking.
Story Rating → Teen
Author’s Note → This story is written for a writing challenge hosted by @elixirfromthestars! This story is inspired by the Stud & Smartie universe, written by the lovely @navybrat817. I have, of course, tried to give my spin to the story, but I believe in giving credit where credit is due, so thank you so much for inspiring this story, Navy! 💜
Writing Prompts @anyfandomfluffbingo → ”Come back to bed.” @elixirfromthestars → College au | “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.” | “What else do I need if I have my whole world in my arms?” | “I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest.” @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition → Food coma @fandom-free-bingo Medical Edition → ‘I always want you to’ | “I’m here.” | Singing in the shower
Tag List → If you’d like to be tagged in my stories, you can add yourself to my tag list here.
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Falling in love with your roommate may have been the best thing ever to have happened to you, apart from starting your new, exciting life on the other side of the country. Even though your parents have always given you everything your heart desired, the one thing you always missed was the freedom to explore the world, and even though moving to New York isn’t exactly the other side of the world, it still felt like a dream come true to move out of the small town you used to call home. Now, your home is your roommate and boyfriend, Bucky.
For the past few weeks, the weather in New York City has changed into your favorite season, and the changing colors are making you feel happier than ever. Autumn has always been the time of year that made you feel the happiest, as cozy days at home with hot chocolate and movie nights with rain in the background have calmed your mind down on days when you needed it most. It also means your favorite activity of the year is returning: visiting a pumpkin patch and enjoying as many pumpkin-related treats as you can handle in one day.
The rain is softly tapping against the window as you’re curled up under the covers of your boyfriend’s room - your bed hasn’t seen any sign of life in a little over a month, as you’ve practically moved into his bedroom, seeing that it’s the larger of the two in your apartment. Even though you lived there first, and he became your roommate about a month into your first semester, you moved into the smaller bedroom on your first day, decorating it into a warm, cozy place that now has turned into your reading room.
Bucky’s arm is wrapped around you, his warm body pressed against your back as his lips leave a trail of soft kisses over your neck and shoulder. From the moment you two started officially dating, he has made it his mission to wake you up this way every day, and so far, he’s succeeded every time. Your days have started better, and you’ve also noticed your sleeping habits have improved since sharing a bed with him. However, it also means that your habit of getting up early has gone out the window now that you want to spend as much time together as possible.
“How do you look even more beautiful every morning we spend together, Angel?”
In Bucky’s words, you can feel the heat surging throughout your body, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as he compliments you. Without a second thought, you turn around in his hold, gently kissing the tip of his nose once you’re comfortable.
“I’m not sure. It must be because of how happy you make me, Bucky,” you tell him, your fingers trailing softly over his cheekbone. At this, it’s his turn to smile widely, his cheeks reddening at your sweet words. The love between you two is filling your entire apartment, threatening to burst at the seams, and you’ve been wondering for a while if it’s too soon to say it, but you also know you won’t be able to hold it in much longer. And this is precisely why you have planned a special date today.
“I think it’s about time we get up and get ready for my plans today; we still have to drive a little over an hour to get to our destination,” you tell him, but he shakes his head slightly at the thought of leaving the warm nest you two have created. His eyes meet yours lovingly, his entire face softening as he pulls you in for a gentle kiss that takes your breath away.
“No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed,” Bucky whispers, his deep, gravelly voice finding its way deep into your body and soul as it often does. He could tell you anything he wants, and you’d happily gobble it up as long as it means you getting to hear it as much as possible. A soft, almost inaudible moan slips past your lips as you remember what he told you yesterday as you two were making love in this very same bed, your eyes slipping shut at the thought of it.
“What’s on your mind?” Bucky then asks, despite knowing exactly what’s going through your head. Instead of answering, you pull the duvet over your head to hide from him, and he laughs loudly as he pulls you against his chest, where you happily make yourself comfortable again. Your following words sound a bit muffled to your boyfriend, but they make him smile nevertheless.
“I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest. It’s comforting,” you tell him, and you two stay like this for a little longer until you really have to get out of bed. By the time Bucky is in the shower belting out one of his go-to shower songs, and you’re making breakfast - pumpkin spiced pancakes with maple syrup - the rain has finally stopped, and the sun is starting to appear, giving you hope for the day to turn beautiful.
The warm smell of spices fills the air as your boyfriend comes out of his room, fully dressed and his hair styled in the usual way. His cheeks are still red from the hot shower as he walks into the kitchen, ready to get more cuddles in before breakfast. As you feel his long, strong arms wrapping around your waist, you sink into his hold, his cologne hanging in the air and the spices you used in the pancakes.
“Something smells good,” he says as he puts his head on your shoulder, peeking over at the growing pile you’ve already created. A smile brightens your face as you lean into your boyfriend’s hold, butterflies in your stomach running rampant at the simple touch. Sometimes, it still feels unreal for you to be together, and this is one of those moments, but you cherish every second as if it might be the last.
“Thank you,” you whisper to your boyfriend as you concentrate on flipping the pancake. A satisfied hum is in the air as you appreciate its golden brown color.
“Now, before I go and finish the pancakes, is there anything else you need from me?” you ask with a teasing hint to your voice, but the answer that came from your boyfriend is something you wouldn’t have expected him to say, instead going for something like whipped cream or extra syrup. He doesn’t disappoint, though.
“What else do I need when I have my whole world in my arms? Unless you’re offering to come back to bed with me, in which case I definitely need you to do that!” You roll your eyes playfully as you chuckle, knowing he’s always looking for ways to get you back in bed to spend the entire day doing nothing but making love.
“If I didn’t have something special planned for today, I would have gone back to bed with you, but I’ve been working on today’s plans for nearly a month, and it seems like a waste to let it go by without a second thought,” you tell him softly after turning in his arms, your hands lying on his shoulders.
“In that case, I’m sticking to your plans today, Angel. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my princess,” he tells you, which has a wave of heat coursing through your veins. Bucky leans in to kiss your lips softly, your eyes slipping shut as he does. When he pulls away, you follow him to get more kisses, and he happily gives them before letting you finish the pancakes and setting up some plates and cutlery on the kitchen island where you two have breakfast together nearly every morning.
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“Bucky? Where are you?!” you ask again as you walk through your apartment, ready to go but unable to find your boyfriend. It’s like he’s hiding from you without meaning to do so, and when you finally hear his voice, you let out a breath of relief you weren’t aware you were holding in.
“I’m here, Angel,” he yells from the bathroom attached to your now-shared bedroom. His head pokes around the corner as you walk into the room, plopping down a small bag on the bed before walking over to him and pecking him on the cheek.
“Are you ready to go?” you ask him, and he nods with a broad smile, excitement flowing through his body as he does. How you look up at him has him softening, his neck bending to capture your lips with his. It doesn't take long for the two of you to be in your car, singing along loudly to your favorite music while enjoying some snacks you brought in preparation for your date.
Once you're nearing your destination, Bucky is increasingly curious about what you will do. So far, you have given him practically nothing to work with other than saying you're going somewhere he's never been before, and he's still wracking his brain over what it could possibly be.
"I think it's unfair that you're not giving any hints, Angel; how am I supposed to know where we're going if you're not saying anything?" A slight pout on his lips makes you chuckle as you glance over briefly, and your butterflies inside are again going wild.
"I think it's entirely fair because you always surprise me with the most romantic dates, so today, I will give you a taste of your medicine. It might not be as romantic as you leaving rose petals everywhere before cooking me a fancy dinner and taking me to bed afterward, but I'm sure it'll be a close second."
As Bucky looks outside after your comment, a small smile tugging at his mouth, he suddenly spots a large sign for a pumpkin patch, and it all clicks.
"You're taking me to a pumpkin patch, right?!" The excitement is audible as his voice raises slightly near the end. Not too long ago, he confessed to you that he had never been to a pumpkin patch while growing up, so today, you'll change that. After a few hours of research, you found one that's supposedly amazing, and even though it's a nearly three-hour car ride away, you're more than willing to drive to see his first reaction to visiting a pumpkin patch.
"Wait-" he says, narrowing his eyes at you, "- you've been giving hints for a while, huh? The fall decorations, pumpkins appearing in our apartment, the pumpkin pancakes..." As he pieces everything together, you can't help but feel proud of being able to go through this experience with him.
"Hm-hmm."
The rest of the car ride, you two discuss every hint you've dropped, even the ones he didn't pick up on, and when you arrive, it's like heaven's gates have opened based on your boyfriend's expression. He takes you everywhere, eyes growing wide as the two of you take your time taking everything in.
There are a few food stands that sell the most delicious pumpkin and apple treats, as well as a hot chocolate stand, different games having to do with pumpkins, a maze built out of pumpkins, and last but not least, a patch to pick your pumpkin to take home for carving.
The happiness in his eyes is childlike in the best possible way, and he can't stop squeezing your hand in excitement as he takes a moment to stop at every stand and game, wanting to try everything.
"Would you like me to buy you a treat of my choice?" you ask him as you stand in front of a stand that sells countless types of pumpkin—and apple-flavored pastries, as well as drinks such as apple cider and pumpkin-spiced lattes.
"I always want you to choose something for me, Angel. You have the best taste in everything related to baked goods. I'm happy to end the day in some sort of a food coma if you keep choosing these amazing treats," he says, and your mouth curls into a smile as you order two warm apple turnovers and a large slice of a classic pumpkin pie to share. Bucky gets you both a cup of hot chocolate from the stand directly next to it, and once you've found a comfortable spot to enjoy your treats, you're happily diving in.
"Bucky, I have something to tell you-"
"I'll let you finish in a moment, but first, I must tell you something, Angel. I cannot thank you enough for taking me here! The weather is fantastic, the treats are heavenly, and most importantly, it made me realize how much I love you."
As he says the words, you're overwhelmed with emotions, tears brimming at your waterline as they sink in. Knowing that he feels the same about you and loves you is a feeling you could only dream of, but knowing it's true has your heart beating out of your chest from pure excitement.
"I love you too, Bucky," you whisper, followed by a kiss that seals your words. They're finally in the universe, and you couldn't be happier. Out of all the things you thought would come out of going to college, you never in a million years falling in love with your roommate would be one of those things.
Even though your life may not always have been the most exciting, you're now looking forward to the excitement and love Bucky will bring from here on out, starting with going to a pumpkin patch every year to relive the moment you're currently experiencing.
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Masterlist → Bucky Barnes
GIF: Source → All the other graphics are made by @vintagebuckybarnes
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suprsaturatd · 2 years ago
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Shrimps is bugs.
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smolcatpilot · 1 year ago
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Some drawings that I made while watching frankenbugs shipwrecked 64 streams!
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