#bucky barnes

[billskaarsgard]

Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (2021)

[vunblr]

What if...?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight dom! Bucky. A little angst.

Summary: Bucky navigates his insecurities and guilt from his past as he grows closer to his new neighbor, a nurse.

Word Count: About 8.4k.

She knew exactly who he was the first time they bumped into each other when she ran toward the stairs of her apartment building, and he suddenly emerged from them, lost in thought. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, and the glint of metal was pretty noticeable when he reached out to grab her elbow to prevent her from falling backward. The touch was brief, since he retired his hand promptly when he was sure she would not fall, his blue eyes revealing something akin to regret.

“I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, his voice low and gravelly as he retracted his hand, tucking it into his jacket.

“Oh, don’t be,” she responded, the corners of her lips lifting just slightly as she waved her hand dismissively. “I should’ve been more careful. The elevator’s out, and I was in such a hurry… ugh. We always tell the kids not to run in hallways and stairs because accidents can happen, and here I am-" She cut herself off, realizing she was rambling, and gave an embarrassed smile. “Anyway… hi. I’m Y/n, I just moved in yesterday.” She extended her hand.

He reached out, his grip firm but gentle. “James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky.”

Her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, and as she straightened her nurse uniform, she bit her lip. Handsome. The cute wrinkles that creased the corners of his striking blue eyes, were the kind that hinted at a man who had both smiled and seen more than his fair share of hardship, and it was hard not to notice. His body, the epitome of perfection. She mentally slapped herself for staring. “Well, Bucky, I’m running late for work, so I need to go, but I’ll see you around. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

He nodded, watching as she hurried down the stairs, her uniform swaying slightly with her steps. He stood there, rooted to the spot for a moment longer than he should have, replaying the soft smile on her lips.

The days after that encounter passed in a blur of awkward run-ins. Each time, she greeted him with the same soft smile, and each time, Bucky found himself lost in thoughts he hadn’t allowed himself in years.

It started with a polite nod, maybe a smile here and there, but soon, their brief encounters turned into casual conversations. Small talk about their days, the weather, even little jokes about the state of their shared building. He found himself looking forward to those moments, however fleeting they were, because it felt so easy to exchange a few words with her, how her laughter always seemed to come just when he needed to hear it. He’d often catch her gaze lingering on him a second too long before she looked away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks and it was enough to make him wonder if maybe, just maybe, she felt the same pull that he did.

Then, one evening, as they both stood waiting for the elevator, she quirked a brow at him. "You know, Bucky," she started, her voice light, "if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were following me."

He blinked, caught off guard, but the playful glint in her eyes made him relax. He let out a small chuckle. "Well… I could say the same about you." She laughed, and once again, the sound made him feel almost normal.

His therapist had been telling him for months that he was isolated, and that he needed to socialize, form connections. She had even suggested dating, but every time he tried, it hadn’t gone well. The interactions felt awkward, forced, and he often found an excuse to leave early, or worse, sometimes he didn’t even bother with an excuse, just walking out of there without a word.

There was something about Y/n that set her apart, mostly the ease with which their conversations flowed. He wasn’t the type to talk much, often keeping things curt and to the point, but she had this way of making the silence between them feel comfortable, never pushing him to share more than he wanted. He didn’t have to try so hard to keep up with standard appearances. But the pull toward her wasn’t just about feeling comfortable, he wanted her. He caught himself watching her more often than he’d like to admit, she was exactly his type, soft and curvy in all the right places. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to touch her, to run his hands over her body, feel her warmth beneath his fingertips. But every time he got close to asking her out, fear crept in, locking the words in his throat. Fear of rejection, of being too damaged, of her seeing the parts of him he was ashamed of. It always stopped him.

Tonight felt different, though. There was something in her playful approach that made the fear feel less suffocating, less overwhelming. The elevator doors opened, and as they stepped inside, Bucky turned to her, his heart hammering in his chest. He could barely believe he was about to do this.

"Y/n?" he asked, his voice lower than usual.

She glanced at him, her eyes curious. "Yeah?"

He swallowed hard, feeling the moment's weight as he stood before her, and almost panicked. This wasn’t something he was used to. He could fight in gruesome battles, survive impossible odds, flip a fucking armored truck with a tug of his arm… but asking someone out? That felt like a whole different battlefield. It was terrifying in a way those other things weren’t.

For a moment, he almost backpedaled. His mind scrambled, desperately searching for something else to say, some way to deflect his intentions and change the subject. But nothing came. He was stuck. He’d already opened his mouth, and there was no way to retreat now without looking like a fool.

Taking a deep breath, he jumped.

“Would you like to grab dinner with me sometime?” The words came out gruff but honest. For a second, doubt crept in, making him wonder if he’d just made a mistake.

Her eyes widened in surprise before lighting up, a smile spreading across her face that eased the knot on his stomach. “Oh, I’d love to. It’d be fun to do something outside the building for a change. We run into each other so much, that I actually thought about asking you to hang out, but you always seemed rushed, like you couldn’t wait to leave. I’m glad that’s not the case.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “You know, we can be neighbors and friends. There’s nothing in the building rules against it.”

Bucky blinked, his heart sinking at the word friends. He forced one of the practiced, uncomfortable smiles his therapist suggested. Friendzoned -a term he’d only recently discovered- wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he hadn’t spelled it out, either. Of course she thought he was just trying to be friendly, he hadn’t given her a fucking hint of his real intentions. He hadn’t flirted, hadn’t made even the slightest move to swoon her.

The old him would’ve had no trouble conveying his interest. He would’ve been smooth and confident, knowing exactly how to charm her and make his intentions clear. But he wasn’t that guy anymore. He hadn’t done this in decades, and the rules seemed to have shifted in ways he didn’t fully understand. Hell, he had shifted. He sighed. 

"Uh, Y/n?" he started, his tone careful and tentative. She looked back at him, her eyes curious. "I just want to be clear," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "I meant it... as a date. Not just neighbors or friends grabbing a bite."

For a moment, she didn’t respond, still processing what he had just said. His words hung in the air, heavy with significance. And then, something clicked. A blush crept up her neck as her smile turned more thoughtful. He wanted to spend time with her not because they lived in the same building or happened to bump into each other, but because he was interested.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize… I mean…” she stumbled with her words, “I didn’t know you meant it like that." She has had her fair share of men in her life but being honest with herself, in a million years, she wouldn’t have guessed someone like him would be asking her out. Not Bucky, the quiet, handsome, brooding neighbor with the sharp jawline and the weight of a thousand untold stories in his eyes. For months, she had brushed off the little moments between them as neighborly interactions, nothing more. It had been easier that way. Safer, maybe. But now, standing here, the truth of his intentions was undeniable.

He waited, his expression still calm, but the vulnerability in his eyes was unmistakable. She almost laughed at herself, the absurdity of it all. Of course, she had noticed him. How could she not?

Her smile softened, "I’m glad you clarified." she finally said, her voice quieter now. "And yeah, Bucky. I’d like that, a lot."

Bucky gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as if he’d been holding his breath and had just now allowed himself to exhale. A faint smile crept onto his lips, one that actually reached his eyes, softening the hardened edges he usually carried.

"Great," he murmured, his voice low but warm. "I’ll, uh, figure something out."

They shared one last look before the elevator doors opened, and as they stepped out, Bucky’s heart was still racing, but this time, it wasn’t from fear.

The first date had been simple, almost quiet in its ease. He brought her flowers, a small, hesitant gesture that made her eyes light up. They went to a bistro and talked about life, interests, and the kind of things you only share when you feel a certain sense of safety with someone. Bucky never said more than necessary, but she learned to read the way his eyes softened when he listened, the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when she said something that caught him off guard. It was easy and comfortable as their previous interactions, and yet, in the back of his mind, there was always the whisper: do you even deserve this?

The second date was at the small café on the corner of their building. There had been more laughter this time, the conversation flowing easily. As they sat across from each other, their knees brushed under the table. It was subtle, almost unintentional, but the warmth of the touch lingered. It happened again, and neither of them moved away.

They walked back in silence, a comfortable quiet settling between them, though there was an undeniable charge in the air. As they reached her door, she turned to face him, and for a moment, the space between them felt heavier, thick with the weight of everything unsaid.

His hand hovered just near her lower back, not quite touching, but close enough that she felt the warmth of his body through the fabric of her dress. For a brief second, she thought he might pull her closer to break that last sliver of space between them, but he didn’t. His hand lingered for just a moment longer before falling away, his expression betraying a flicker of hesitation.

Bucky’s gaze dropped briefly to her lips, his brows furrowing slightly, before he looked away, almost as if chastising himself. His old-fashioned upbringing, perhaps, held him back and kept him from making the move she half-expected, the one she wanted.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. His tired eyes lingered on hers just a little too long, as if he were still debating, still fighting the pull to act on the desire he was clearly feeling.

She nodded, trying to ignore the flutter on her chest and to respect his boundaries, even though her hands itched to reach for him, to pull him closer and start what he wouldn’t. “Goodnight, Bucky,” she said softly, her own voice betraying the emotions swirling beneath the surface.

They stood there for a heartbeat longer, the short distance between their doors now feeling like miles. He gave her a small, almost hesitant smile, then turned toward his own apartment, the quiet between them somehow louder now.

By the time the third date approached, Bucky’s nerves were starting to get the better of him. He didn’t want to ruin this. The cocky Sergeant Barnes -the man who hadn’t yet turned into a walking nightmare- would’ve laughed at him. That version of himself had been bold, self-assured, the type of man who could sweep a woman off her feet without a second thought. He’d have taken the lead with ease, knowing exactly how to handle the situation. But that man was long gone, buried beneath the weight of all he had done, all he had become.

Before leaving for the date, he poured himself an imperial pint of asgardian ale. Just enough to give him a buzz, to take the edge off. Standing there, glass in hand, he caught his reflection in the window and sighed. Could she see it? The darkness? The scars left behind from being Hydra’s puppet? And even if she didn’t... how long until she did? You don’t deserve this, the voice whispered again, unrelenting.

That night, after dinner, they found themselves in her living room, two untouched coffee cups growing cold on the table beside them. The dim light softened the space around them, creating an intimate cocoon that made their conversation flow effortlessly. Yet, beneath the easy chatter, Bucky’s doubts lingered. He couldn’t shake the feeling that any move forward could shatter the delicate balance between them.

He’d been raised with a sense of propriety, a rhythm to follow when it came to courting. There was a dance to it, an unspoken set of rules about when to advance and when to hold back. The trouble now was figuring out how much to let himself move forward, how far to let this go before the weight of his past dragged him under again.

As their conversation naturally ebbed into silence, he noticed her gaze flicker to his lips, lingering just a bit longer than usual. His pulse quickened. She was giving him a sign, even if she hadn’t meant to. For a brief moment, he hesitated, but the look in her eyes, the quiet anticipation, and the ale still running through his system urged him forward.

He leaned in slightly, their knees brushing, the warmth of her body drawing him closer. His hand hovered near her arm, and she responded getting closer, her lips parting ever so slightly as if inviting him in without saying a word.

Slowly, deliberately, he closed the distance between them, his heart pounding in his chest. The kiss was meant to be soft and chaste, but all restraint flew out the window the second their lips touched.

His hand slipped to the small of her back, pulling her closer, the kiss growing hungrier, more urgent, as if months of longing were unraveling in that single moment. With a gentle, almost teasing flick of his tongue against her lower lip, he urged her to open her mouth. She complied, her lips parting as she allowed him in, and things turned molten. His tongue slid against hers, and the heat between them spiraled when she let out a quiet, breathless moan. The sound sent a jolt of desire pushing him further. His metal hand remained firm on her back, pulling her as close as possible, while the other slipped into her hair. She responded eagerly, her fingers gliding up his chest and tangling in his now messy bun, tugging him closer as if she couldn’t get enough. The kiss was all-consuming, urgent and messy, as months of tension finally broke free. Eventually, they slowly pulled apart, heavy breaths mingling in the charged air between them. His gaze dropped to her lips, now swollen and flushed from their activities, and he felt the undeniable pull to dive back in.

Then he noticed it. His vibranium hand had slid down to her waist and was gripping harder than he intended. Much harder. He swallowed and looked at it, the realization sinking in. His hand, still gripping tightly, could harm her. He sighed, frustration and self-reproach tugging at him, unable to find a balance between his longing and his fear of hurting her.

She caught the sigh, her eyes following his downward gaze until they landed on his hand, still gripping her waist. And then it clicked, she understood. It wasn’t just the pressure of his hand; it was everything behind it. The strength he was constantly aware of, the control he had to maintain, the fear of hurting someone he cared about without meaning to. It wasn’t just about this moment, it was about everything he carried with him.

Instead of pulling away, she did the opposite. She shifted slightly, pressing closer into his hand, her body language reassuring him. With that small gesture, she was telling him she trusted him, she wasn’t fragile, and she wasn’t going to break. He didn’t need to hold back with her.

He exhaled softly, and a question bubbled up, one that had been lingering in his mind for far too long. “Have you ever thought how things would have been if we had met under different circumstances?” His voice was quiet, almost tentative, the weight of the topic heavy in the intimate space between them.

Her brow furrowed slightly, curiosity piqued. “Different how?” she asked, leaning in a little, her eyes searching his.

Bucky took a breath, his gaze drifting again as if he were caught somewhere between the past and the present. “I mean… if I hadn’t been…” He trailed off for a second, a shadow crossing his expression. “If I didn’t become what I am. If I’d been just… me.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as though speaking the words out loud might break something fragile between them.

She stayed quiet, giving him the space he needed, her hand gently resting on his arm, a subtle reassurance.

“I think about it sometimes,” he admitted, his eyes still distant, fixed on a point somewhere beyond her. “If we’d met before all the... before everything.” His lips pressed into a thin line, guilt flickering behind his blue eyes. “Maybe in another time, I could’ve been just a guy. Someone who didn’t have…” He paused, his metal hand still against her back. “Someone that wouldn’t have been so messed up. Someone normal and approachable.”

Her heart clenched at the weight of his words. “Bucky…” she started, her voice soft, but he shook his head slightly as if to wave off her sympathy.

“I don’t know,” he continued, quieter now. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve…” He cut himself off, jaw tightening.

Without hesitation, she entwined their fingers, squeezing gently. “You do deserve this,” she said firmly, her voice unwavering as she met his gaze. She wasn’t going to let him retreat into the dark place where his self-deprecation lived. “You deserve to be happy, Buck. You’re a good man.” She sighed and shifted beside him, her head resting back against the couch as she considered his previous words and then an idea popped up.

“Let’s see… if I had been born before 1920, I’d probably still be a nurse.” Her lips curved into a small smile as she looked at him sideways, eyes gleaming in the dim light. She watched him closely, seeing how he would react, her heart thumping just a little faster as she waited. “I’d have enlisted to work in a field hospital. And… who knows, maybe we could have met there when you were serving.” She let the thought linger in the air, light and playful, hoping it would lift the heaviness that had settled between them.

Bucky’s brows lifted slightly, and he tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He shifted closer to her without even realizing, his hand still resting lightly on her waist. “You would’ve been responsible for making sure I was fit for duty,” he mused, his tone a little lighter now as if the idea of an alternate history didn’t seem so bad. “Keeping an eye on me, seeing my injuries, maybe even patching me up yourself.” He added with a playful edge, allowing himself to immerse in the scenario.

She grinned, shaking her head, eyes twinkling as she imagined the scene. “Oh, from what I heard about you, I doubt you would have visited the hospital very often, Sarge,” she teased, nudging his knee with hers playfully, a grin tugging at her lips.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and genuine, as his thumb began tracing slow, soothing circles on her back, a gesture she was growing fond of. “Probably not,” he agreed, leaning in slightly, his voice dipping into something softer. “But I would’ve noticed you from afar. Even if I had no reason to be there, you would’ve stood out.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. Her fingers absentmindedly brushed the back of his hand, a smile playing on her lips as she waited for his answer.

Bucky glanced down at their intertwined hands, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against her softer ones. He looked back up at her, his voice steady, but with a hint of something deeper. “Because you’re beautiful,” he said simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She blinked, caught off guard by the casual sincerity in his tone. “Beautiful, me? Pfft!” She laughed softly, with a playful spark in her eyes. “But... now that I think about it, pin-up girls were a thing when you were serving, weren’t they?”

Bucky leaned back into the couch, pulling her with him, his arm wrapping firmer around her waist, a slow grin forming at her words. “Yeah, well, nurses were definitely included in the ‘interesting’ category too,” he teased. His eyes flicked down, tracing the curves of her body as his hand tightened slightly around her waist, making her feel self-conscious. “Especially ones with curves like yours.”

She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head, but before she could say anything, Bucky continued, his voice lower now, a bit more serious. “You’d have been popular among the guys in camp, you know. They’d have been lining up, falling over themselves to get your attention.” He paused, his gaze flicking back to hers. “But trust me, I would’ve noticed you first. And I wouldn’t have let anyone else have a shot.”

Her cheeks flushed as she tucked her legs beneath her, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, so you would’ve asked me out?” she teased, her curiosity bubbling to the surface as she edged closer to him, her eyes locked on his.

Bucky turned slightly toward her, the hand resting on her arm sliding down slowly, his fingers brushing her skin in soft, teasing strokes. “Oh, I wouldn’t have just asked,” he said with a smirk. “I’d have made sure you had no reason to say no.”

She felt her heart quicken at the subtle heat in his voice, the playful edge giving way to something more intense. Her breath hitched slightly, and she bit her lip as she gazed up at him. “Is that so?” she murmured, her voice soft, a bit more serious now. “And how would you have done that?” She leaned in a little, her shoulder brushing against his, her warmth radiating into the small space between them. “How was the game back then? Brought flowers? Invited me to dance?”

“Both, probably,” he murmured, his hand now resting on her thigh, his thumb grazing the fabric of her dress in slow, deliberate motions. “Flowers, because they’re classic... and dancing, because it’s intimate.”

“Well,” she whispered, her voice softer now as she leaned her head toward him, lips just inches from his ear, “I guess I would’ve let you court me, Sarge. Tell me about a date with you.”

Bucky’s hand tightened slightly on her thigh, the pressure just enough to make her heart race. His stubbled cheek brushed against hers as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. “Saturday night,” he whispered, his lips barely grazing the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “dinner at the Officers’ Club, followed by a slow dance... and then back to my quarters for a proper goodnight kiss.”

Her breath hitched, her pulse quickening as the warmth of his breath and the weight of his words settled between them. She could feel the tension thickening in the air, her voice trembling slightly as she teased, “Only a kiss?”

Bucky smirked against her skin, his lips hovering near her ear. “Maybe more than just a kiss,” he rasped, his voice low and full of promise, “but only if you wanted it too.”

She arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Hmm, I dunno, Sergeant Barnes... things were done more properly back then, right? No sex before marriage, and all that stuff?”

He let out a low chuckle, his hand already inching higher up her thigh, the heat of his touch sending shivers up her spine. “You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, his voice taking on a teasing edge. “I would've waited until our wedding night…” His hand slid beneath the fabric of her dress, fingers grazing the soft skin of her thigh. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have thought about it. Every. Single. Day.” He leaned in again as he whispered. “How you’d look... how you’d feel... imagining all the ways I’d finally get to touch you.” His breath was warm against her skin, the words heavy with tension.

“Is that so?” she murmured, her fingers sliding up his chest, gripping his collar just enough to keep him close. “You think you could’ve waited?”

His hand tightened again on her thigh. “I would’ve tried... but I don’t think you would’ve made it easy.” Bucky’s playful tone faded into something more serious, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “Would you have let me… let me have you like that?” His words carried a weight that made her heart race.

She swallowed, her fingers gripping his shirt tighter as she looked up into his eyes, feeling the pull of him in a way that left her defenseless. “I-” her voice faltered, her pulse racing, but she managed to find her words. “Yeah, Bucky... I would’ve.”

Bucky’s metal hand, firm but tender, climbed from her waist tracing a slow, deliberate path up her spine. He then reached for the little buttons at the neckline of her dress, his touch both careful and bold as he unfastened them, one by one. Each undone button revealed more of her skin to his darkened gaze, and the way he looked at her made her feel exposed in a way that went beyond the physical. “I would’ve taken care of you,” he murmured, his lips brushing her collarbone. “Made sure no one else got close to you.”

Her body leaned instinctively toward him, craving the closeness as her free hand ran up his arm, her fingers tracing the firm muscles beneath his shirt. “No one else would’ve mattered,” she whispered.

With a swift, deliberate motion, the hand on her neckline slid down and snaked behind her, grasping her ass and pulling her fully into his lap. She gasped as her hips pressed against his, feeling exactly how much he wanted her. “Every night,” he growled, his voice rough with need, “I would’ve made sure you were mine.” His eyes were ablaze with raw desire as his grip tightened, holding her firmly against him.

Her pulse raced, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and his mouth crashed into hers in a searing kiss. His other hand slid higher up her thigh, teasing the edge of her underwear, fingers brushing the soft skin. A soft moan escaped her lips, muffled by the kiss, and when he broke it, his lips found the curve of her neck.

“So only one kiss, huh?” she chuckled in a breathed tone, her voice trembling with anticipation as her hips instinctively rocked against him.

Bucky inhaled deeply against her skin, trailing hot kisses down toward her chest. “Well, I would've kissed you every chance I got but believe me, that wouldn’t have been enough...” His words were thick with promise, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed his arousal harder against her, his hand slipping between them, fingers tracing her slick heat over her underwear. The breathless gasp that escaped her was all the encouragement he needed. “… that wouldn’t have been fucking enough.” he whispered against her skin, his voice low and filled with hunger, as his fingers moved with purpose, leaving no doubt about what he wanted.

She bit her lip, her voice soft but laced with playful intent as she fed into the fantasy they were weaving. “Well, if we had ourselves a little house with a white fence, I’d have waited for you to come home every day in a frilly apron,” her eyes locked onto his, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she added, “with nothing underneath.”

The image she painted made Bucky’s breath hitch, his grip tightening around her ass. His eyes nearly rolled back, his imagination spiraling into wild possibilities. “Damn.” His voice was laced with lust. “If I could’ve had you waiting for me like that,” he murmured, his hand gripping her tighter, fingers digging into her skin as his restraint began to falter “I’d have come home early every damn day just to take advantage of you.” His lips brushed the swell of her breasts, the heat between them spiraling as his imagination ran wild, and he pulled her impossibly closer while teasing over her soaked panties.

Her gaze flicked from his lips back to his darkened eyes. “Oh yeah?” she challenged, her voice a sultry whisper. “Right there on the kitchen table?”

Bucky’s smirk deepened, the raw desire in his eyes nearly swallowing her whole. “Hell yes, right there on the kitchen table,” he growled, his vibranium hand gripping her ass harder, possessively. “I’d bend you over it, flip up that little apron, and bury myself inside you until you screamed my name for the whole damn neighborhood to hear.” He confessed without a hint of remorse or shame.

Her body reacted instantly, hips pressing hard against the teasing hand hovering over her clothed pussy. A soft whimper escaped her, the sound almost desperate. His hand answered her need by slipping her panties aside, his fingers slowly sinking into her heat, stretching her with deliberate, agonizing precision. The sensation sent a shudder through her, her body arching into his touch.

She let out a shaky breath, her playful tone faltering as her body betrayed her. “How kinky,” she managed to tease, biting her lip as she met his gaze, her voice barely steady under the growing pressure inside her.

Bucky inhaled sharply, savoring the way she responded, his hand moving with more purpose now. “Kinky enough to have you blushing for days,” he growled, his teeth grazing up to her jawline before dragging his lips slowly up to brush against hers. His fingers kept sliding deeper inside her with slow, deliberate strokes. “And when the milkman came the next morning…” The hand on her ass squeezed the supple skin harder, pulling her even close against him, while the other continued its relentless torment between her legs. “...you’d be so sore from the night before, you wouldn’t even be able to stand straight. Couldn’t look anyone in the eye without blushing, remembering just how loud you screamed.”

She blushed at his statement, totally immersed in the fantasy. “That sounds… so good, Buck.” She managed to say, her voice trembling with want. She bit her lip again, locking eyes with him and starting to ground herself shamelessly against his fingers, the pressure building quickly inside her. “But... would you only fuck me at the kitchen table when coming back? What about… other creative places? Like the back porch, under the shade of the bindweed?...”

Bucky's eyes closed as her suggestion sparked a flood of heated thoughts. “Hell, yes," he growled, his voice deep and gravelly, thick with desire. He pushed his fingers deeper inside her, his thumb circling her swollen clit, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. “I’d lift that sexy little apron right up, spread your legs wide open, and fuck you right there under the bindweeds," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, each word laced with promise. "And you'd moan my name, scream it, while everyone else thinks we’re just having a quiet afternoon tea."

The combination of his filthy words and the relentless pressure of his fingers sent her body trembling with anticipation, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. "Bucky…" she moaned softly, her hands tightening their grip on him, desperate for everything he was giving her. Her hips bucked uncontrollably against his hand, her breath hitching as his fingers curled inside her, hitting just the right spot and sending waves of pleasure radiating through her body. The pleasure built inside her, tightening, coiling until every nerve in her body felt alive.

Bucky felt the signals and growled, his fingers moving faster now, each stroke deliberate and calculated as his forehead pressed against hers, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. “I’d had make sure no one could ever touch you the way I did,” he muttered, his voice low and possessive. "Every inch of you, mine." He punctuated the last words with hard, rhythmic rubs at one side of her clit and that was all she needed for the climax to hit her, a wave of intense pleasure crashing through her. Her moans turned into soft cries as she buried her face on his neck, her body trembling violently as his hand continued to work her through it, prolonging her ecstasy.

When her body came down from her high, still trembling from the intensity, Bucky slowly withdrew his fingers. Panting, she looked at his gaze and saw the raw, unbridled desire burning in his cobalt eyes. Without hesitation, she leaned in, her lips finding his stubbled jaw, trailing soft, hungry kisses down his neck, nipping and sucking against his skin while her hand wandered lower and lower on his abdomen, finally unbuttoning his pants with deliberate slowness, venturing inside his underwear.

The moment her fingers brushed against his cock, he tensed and groaned. “W-wait,” he rasped, his voice thick with need and restraint. His hand held hers firmly, keeping her from going further.

Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, her lips still hovering near his neck. “Why?” she murmured, her voice low but steady. “I want to make you feel good too. You deserve it, Bucky,” she whispered, her words full of tenderness and desire. Her fingers twitched beneath his grip, her intention clear.

Bucky let out a low, shaky breath with a hint of frustration. He knew he had to come clean. “I want it too, trust me,” he muttered, his voice low, strained. “But it’s been so long... too long. If you touch me now…” He trailed off, swallowing hard, the unspoken words hanging in the air. “Let me lead,” he whispered, his voice thick with promise. He leaned in to kiss her, deep and slow, pouring all the pent-up desire into the kiss.

She sighed softly, pulling back just enough to reach for the hem of her dress, slipping it over her head in one fluid motion. The fabric lifted away from her body, leaving her sitting in only her bra and panties as the dress was tossed to the side of the couch.

Bucky’s gaze darkened as he took her in, his hands instinctively roaming over her bare skin. But then he groaned again softly, almost painfully, his fingers pausing as his grip tightened around her waist. “What happened to let me lead?” he rasped; his voice thick with restraint.

Her breath hitched at his words, her lips parting as if to respond with a half-hearted apology, but before she could, his hands were already sliding down her body, reclaiming control. His fingers traced her bra straps, slipping them off her shoulders with excruciating slowness. “I need to do it my way,” he murmured, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “If you don’t behave... this ends before we even begin.”

The meaning of his earlier words hit her then, her body stiffening as realization dawned. He wasn’t just leading to take his time with her; he was fighting to keep from losing control, from coming right there in his pants. Her teasing grin faltered, replaced with a softer expression. “Oh,” she whispered, her voice quieter now, laced with understanding. “I didn’t realize…” Her fingers gently grazed his cheek, guilt creeping into her tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.”

Bucky tensed slightly at her touch, inwardly cursing himself for letting his vulnerability slip. His masculine pride stung. Great job, Barnes. Way to cool the mood. He forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers in an attempt to brush off the tension. “It’s alright,” he muttered, but the strain in his voice betrayed him. His fingers dug into her hips just a little, grounding himself. “I just... got worked up faster than I expected.” He exhaled shakily, trying to ease the tension. Then he started to move.

As his fingers worked at the clasp of her bra, his touch slow and deliberate, he broke the silence with a low murmur, his voice thick with desire, yet laced with a hint of vulnerability. “You know… I liked you from the moment we bumped into each other on the stairs,” he said, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I still remember the way you looked at me, even after I knocked you off balance and grabbed your arm. No gloves, metal hand out in the open… but you didn’t flinch.”

She smiled softly at the memory, her breath hitching slightly as the tension between them simmered. When her bra fell away, his gaze dropped to her exposed breasts, and a low groan rumbled in his chest. His flesh hand cupped her gently, his thumb brushing over her nipple in a slow, teasing motion.

“I loved how your uniform looked on you then,” he continued, his voice growing huskier as his metal hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer. “I still do. Every time I see you in it, it makes it hard to focus on anything else.”

His thumb continued its slow teasing, but then his expression shifted, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. His voice dropped, a hint of regret slipping into his words. “I wish I’d asked you out sooner. The old me… he would've handled this better. Would’ve known exactly how to...”

She cut him off before he could finish, her eyes fierce, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him closer. “Stop,” she said firmly, her voice soft but unwavering. “The moment of ‘what if’ has passed. I don't want the man you used to be.” Her lips brushed against his jaw, her breath hot against his skin. “I want you. Not someone I never knew.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them fixing his gaze on hers. She wasn’t looking for the version of him with the effortless charm and swagger. She never did. She wanted him, baggage, scars, and everything else.

A slow, shaky breath escaped him, his grip on her tightening as a flicker of vulnerability passed through his eyes. “You don’t know how much that means,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, his lips brushing against her jaw, then down to her neck. His movements were soft at first, but as her hands gripped his shoulders, urging him on, the hesitation melted away.

His mouth found hers again, kissing her hard, his hands moving with more confidence again. “I’ve wanted this... you,” he rasped, his breath hot against her skin. “For so damn long.” She responded with a moan, her body arching into him as he took full control.

Bucky groaned, unable to hold back any longer as the tension between them reached its peak. He gently shifted her off his lap, laying her down on the couch, his hands lingering on her hips for a moment before he stood. His breath was heavy, and though his chest tightened with familiar insecurities, especially about his arm, he pushed forward.

His fingers moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. As the fabric fell to the floor, his eyes darted to her face, half-expecting some flicker of hesitation or doubt. Instead, her gaze roamed over him, dark with desire as her eyes took in the hard lines of his chest. “Damn... you’re perfect.” Her voice came out breath and soft. Swallowing hard, Bucky quickly slid his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, kicking them aside. Now fully bare before her, he stood there, his chest rising and falling as her gaze lingered on him. He could see her eyes focused on his size, her lips parted as she let out a soft, breathless sound. The way she looked at him -no hesitation, only hunger- made his insecurities, the doubts about his scars, his arm, everything, to retract to a far corner of his mind.

Without a word, he climbed on top of her, positioning himself between her legs, their bodies pressed together, heat and tension coiling between them. His hands trailed down her sides, gripping her hips firmly as he pulled her closer. Slowly, he guided his cock to her slick entrance, teasing her folds as he coated his shaft with her wetness. A low, rumbling groan escaped his lips as he playfully rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit, the pressure sending jolts of pleasure through her.

Her body reacted instantly, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she writhed beneath him. “Bucky…” she moaned softly, her hips tilting up toward him, her body aching for more.

He moved slowly, sliding inside her inch by inch, and paused as soon as he was fully sheathed, giving her a moment to adjust. Her body clenched tightly around him, a gasp escaping her lips as her nails dug into his shoulders. Her breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, the sensation of him filling her completely overwhelming her. The tight heat of her body had him teetering on the edge, but he held back, determined to give her time.

He pulled back slightly, then pushed forward again, slowly and deliberately, testing her response. Her breath hitched, her thighs trembling around his hips with each thrust. She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering shut as she struggled to find her breath.

“Fuck, Bucky,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice barely audible but heavy with surprise and awe. “You’re… big. I’ve never... God!”

Her words sparked something deep within him, the mixture of vulnerability and pleasure igniting a fire he could barely contain. A low growl rumbled in his throat as his control began to slip. His hands moved to the back of her thighs, gripping them firmly just beneath her knees, then in one swift motion, he lifted her legs, spreading her wider as he started to thrust deeper, hitting spots that made her eyes fly open, a strangled moan escaping her lips. “Bucky… oh my God,” she gasped, her voice trembling as she struggled to take all of him.

Encouraged by her reaction, Bucky picked up the pace, his thrusts growing harder and faster, losing himself in the haze of lust that overtook him. He pulled her thighs higher, spreading her wider, driving into her with relentless force. Each thrust was deeper and rougher, and her moans quickly turned into desperate, breathless cries of pleasure.

The sound of her moans, the way she cried out his name, only fueled him further. “You like that?” he growled, his voice low and ragged as he thrust into her again, deeper, harder. Her slick heat gripped him tighter with every movement, making his pulse race. “Look at me, Doll. You like it rough?”

Her body arched beneath him, her hands scrambling for something to hold onto as the intensity of his thrusts tore through her. “Yes! Bucky… fuck! Don’t stop,” she moaned, her voice breaking as he kept his relentless, punishing pace.

“Oh, I won’t stop,” he growled, pulling out of her with a slick sound, only to flip her over onto her stomach in one swift motion. His hands gripped her hips roughly, pulling her ass up and positioning her on all fours before she had time to catch her breath.

Before she could process the shift, Bucky slammed back into her, filling her completely. She gasped, her fingers clutching at the couch cushions as he drove into her from behind, his pace unrelenting. “Is this what you wanted, Doll?” he rasped, his flesh hand sliding up her back before grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back slightly as his hips pistoned against her, thrusting deep and hard.

She let out a scream of pleasure, her body trembling as he pounded into her. “Yes! Oh God, yes,” she cried, her voice hoarse, her body helpless under his rough control.

Bucky grunted with each powerful thrust, his grip on her hair tightening, his metal hand digging into her hip, guiding her back onto him. The angle allowed him to go even deeper, kissing her cervix with every push of his hips. Her moans only spurred him on, the rhythm of their bodies frantic and primal, skin slapping against skin.

He released her hair and grabbed both her hips, yanking her back onto his cock with force, losing himself in the haze of lust. “Come for me,” he growled, his hand coming down on her ass with a sharp smack, making her gasp.

Before she could recover, his hand slid between her legs, his fingers finding her clit. He circled it with firm, deliberate pressure, his voice rough as he leaned over her, thrusting deeper still. “I want you to come all over me, Doll.” The moment his fingers found her swollen nub, her body responded, hips bucking involuntarily as her breath hitched. The pressure building inside her hit its peak, and with a loud, desperate moan, she shattered beneath him, her body trembling violently as she came hard.

The feel of her tight, wet heat spasming around him was too much for Bucky to handle. He let out a guttural moan, his hips slamming into her as his own release took hold. “Fuck,” he growled, his voice ragged as his body tensed, and he came hard, spilling thick, hot spurts into her. His hips jerked involuntarily with each wave of pleasure, the intensity of his orgasm hitting him harder than he’d expected. He gasped, his forehead falling to her back as he rode out the aftershocks, his cock pulsing inside her, still surrounded by the tight, wet heat of her body.

The sound of their heavy breathing filled the room, the intensity of their release leaving them trembling, their bodies slick with sweat. Bucky stayed inside her for a moment longer, his fingers lazily circling her clit, drawing out her pleasure as her body continued to spasm beneath him. But as the haze of bliss began to fade, his mind started to catch up with his body, and a flicker of doubt crept in. Had he been… too much?

Slowly, he withdrew from her, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. His hand slid up to her shoulder, gentle, almost tentative. “Are you okay?” His voice was low, uncertainty laced in every word.

She turned her head slightly, her cheek pressing into the cushion as her hooded eyes found his. “I’m better than okay,” she murmured. “That was... perfect, Buck.”

He exhaled, feeling the tension in his body ease, but his mind refused to quiet. What if she was trying to play it cool after being on the receiving end of nearly 80 years of pent-up frustration?

Sensing his unease, she shifted, sitting up on the couch. Her hands cradled his face, her thumbs gently brushing against his skin. He looked almost miserable for someone who had, minutes ago, been nothing short of a god of intercourse.

“You didn’t hurt me, Bucky,” she said, her voice firm yet warm. “I meant it when I said it was perfect. Stop overthinking. It was the best I’ve ever had.” Her cheeks flushed as she realized the weight of her words, but she didn’t back down. “I mean it,” she added, her voice softening as her gaze dropped for a moment, the blush deepening. “It really was the best I’ve ever had.”

The tension in his body slowly began to melt away as he absorbed her words, a flicker of relief washing over him. His breathing steadied, and the storm of doubts in his mind started to quiet. He looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for letting his insecurities creep in. Running a hand through his messy hair, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice low and sincere. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. I just... I get in my head sometimes.”

She gave him a gentle smile, her fingers brushing his scruffy cheek again. “You didn’t ruin anything, Bucky, not even close. If anything, the only thing you’ll have to atone for... is setting the bar pretty high.”

Bucky’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile as her words sank in. He exhaled deeply, feeling the weight on his chest finally lift. Without saying anything, he reached up, his hand gently cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing softly over her skin in a silent gesture of gratitude.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. The silence between them wasn’t empty; it was full of understanding, unspoken promises, and the certainty that, somehow, they were exactly where they were meant to be.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

[loverslodge]

very discreet

summery: you and bucky have a relationship nobody is aware of. they keep trying to set him up with other women while bucky is trying to avoid them.

pairing: Grumpy!Bucky x Quiet!Reader

warning: SMUT, fluff, bad writing???, swearing

A/N: clearly i have a thing for grumpy bucky but i also have a thing was hidden relationships.

“Oh come on Bucky, how long will you stay single? Don't you think it's time you start looking for a partner?” Natasha pointed her knife at Bucky while they were polishing their weapons.

“I don't need anyone, Nat.” Bucky sighs and keeps on cleaning his guns.

“Bullshit!” Natasha stabs the wooden table beside Bucky. “We're all wrung out after missions and we all need a release. You know better than to stay holed up in a room with veins full of adrenaline. If not a girlfriend, get some beneficial partner.” Natasha shrugged.

“You might be doing that, Nat but I really don't need someone. I am happy where I am.” Bucky picks up his guns and arranges them back in their place. He wipes his workstation clean and walks out.

The mission today wasn't that bad but Bucky felt tired. The entire team has been on his case for over two months. How can he convince them that he doesnt need anyone? He's fine where he is. In fact, he is happier than ever and he would never trade this with anything else.

He walks in his room and wearily grabs his towel and sweatpants to take a shower. He turns on the water and stands under it till he hears his bathroom door being opened. He turns on the hot water to the right temperature and shuffles to make space. He hears some rustling and the shower curtain is pulled slightly open. You, very slowly step in and stand under the water source.

“I missed you, doll.” Bucky wraps his arms around you. You nod with a slight blush.

You pull out the loofah and pour the body wash on it. Bucky takes it from your hand and starts helping you clean up. Once you are covered in soap, you turn to Bucky and return the favor. Washing away the grime, dirt and tiredness of the day, you both towel each other dry.

“Bucky,” You point at one of his t-shirts from the wardrobe and look down thinking he might reject what you're asking.

“You don't need to ask me, doll. What's mine is yours.” He pulls a t-shirt on you and kisses your cheek. You nod and blush even more. You shuffle onto the bed and snuggle to your side of the bed, waiting patiently for Bucky to come.

“Tell me about your day, doll. Was it very draining?” he slips into the bed and brings you closer. You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his chest and nod a yes.

He sighs in content and pulls the comforter up. Your legs are parted and one of them is resting on Bucky’s hips. He kisses your forehead and his metal arm slowly drags to your inner thighs. You weren't wearing any underwear, giving complete access to Bucky, as he plunged his metal middle finger into your core. You gasp and your hold around Bucky tightens. He pulls out his finger and rubs your clit, making you moan in his chest. His hold on your waist tightens as he pushes two fingers in you again and uses his thumb to caress your nub. Your moans and gasps fill the quiet room as you reach the edge. You twist a little and put your hand on your mouth as you come all over Bucky’s sweatpants. You sigh and push Bucky a little, signaling him to grab new sweatpants. He complies and snuggles back into the bed against you.

……………………

The kitchen was lively today. Nobody was on a mission so the atmosphere was very relaxed. But not everyone was relaxing.

“Bucky, come on, go on this date. She's really nice and totally your type.” Sam pushed the topic further.

“How do you know my type, bird brain?” Bucky walked behind the kitchen counter.

You were standing there, making lunch for everyone while Bucky helped. Bucky would discreetly hold your waist or find a way to keep close to you in the kitchen. You were a blushing mess but Bucky didn't mind. As he saw nobody was looking, he kissed your cheek and went to the fridge to pretend as if nothing had happened. You just stood there with eyes wide.

“Let me help out.” Bucky very subtly held your waist and moved you away from the stove and started stirring the soup pot. He knew he had shocked you enough and you needed to calm down.

“She's all goth. You grunt, she stares. It's like a match made in heaven, Tinman. Go out with her. Nat arranged the date for you.” Sam continued and Nat nodded.

You looked up and saw Bucky roll his eyes and shake his head. His hand went to his chest and caressed his shirt before going back to the stove.

“I'm not going anywhere. I've told you before, I do not want to go on dates. I am happy where I am.”

“Too late, Barnes. She'll be waiting for you at the cafe this evening. I've already arranged the date and promised her. You can't back out now.” Nat warned Bucky.

“What the fuck, Nat! I told you I'm not interested. Cancel it. Im not going and thats final.” Bucky slams the stirring spoon on the counter and stomps out of the kitchen but not before subtly nudging you to follow.

“Talk some sense into him. He listens to you. Tell him it is a good idea to meet new people,” Sam pleads to you.

You just shake your head and grab some soup in two bowls. One for you and one for Bucky. The rest of the team gather slowly to grab the soup.

You stop in front of your door and knock. A furrowed eyed Bucky opens the door and side steps to let you in.

You hold out the soup bowl towards Bucky who has turned his back to you. “Bucky?”

Your quiet whisper of his name was enough to melt his brains off. He stands up and takes the soup bowl from your hand, putting it to the side. He hugs you and nuzzles his head in your neck, breathing in deeply. Your hand instinctively wraps around his waist and you start rubbing his back to calm him down.

“They just won't let it go. I'm sorry, doll. I wish I could give a better reason to them.” Bucky mumbles into your neck, sending waves of goosebumps all over your body.

“It's okay. Go.” You try to make him go because you know what it's like to be stood up and you know for the fact that Bucky will stand the girl up.

“I'm not gonna listen to you this time, doll. This is ridiculous. I am not leaving and that is final. Maybe I'll send one of those apology flowers you talk about to her through Happy.” he tightens his hold on you. You sigh. You knew it was pointless from getting him to change his mind.

You just wanted him to go and tell the girl that he is committed elsewhere but he is so stubborn that he won't even listen to what you have to say so you try to pull away to at least have him finish his soup.

“No. stop pulling away.” He sits back on bed with you in his lap, not even letting you go. You giggle and try to make space between the two of you so you can at least grab the soup bowl.

“Bucky, soup.” You manage to release your hand point at the bowls.

“Fine. but only because you are hungry and you made this with so much love.” His stomach grumbles and he makes a face, making you giggle even more.

His frown melts into a smile and he grabs your face, peppering kisses all over it, making you giggle and laugh. “This is why I'm not going anywhere. You are perfect, doll. I love you.”

……………………

“You piece of shit! Did you seriously stand her up? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Nat blasted at him and threw a punch at him.

Bucky ducked and svewerd to the side to keep you safe. You were standing very close to Bucky to hide the fact that he was holding your waist. But just as Nat threw a punch at him, he pulled away and moved away from you.

“Are you crazy? You could have hurt her.” Bucky pointed at you while dodging Nat’s punches. “And I sent flowers to say sorry. I told you I am not interested. When I say no, accept it.”

Bucky blocks Nat’s punches with his metal arm and pushes her away. Before she could do more damage, Steve walks in and stands between Bucky and Nat.

“Enough, both of you. This is not a dueling ground. Walk it off, Romanov. And you, Bucky, let's talk.” Steve nods at you and guides Bucky out of the gym leaving you sigh in relief.

That night, everyone had dinner on their own. You weren't very keen on cooking so you, Bucky and Steve got pizza together. They had put on Harry Potter since you loved talking about it.

Bucky couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you mouthed the dialogues with the characters. He smiled. Steve nudged Bucky and shook his head with a smile.

Steve loved seeing his best friend so happy. Steve loved you like a sister too. Your quiet and shy nature had calmed Steve in many situations and he was grateful. You had taken Steve’s side during the fallout and helped Bucky without a complaint. Surprisingly Bucky wanted to keep you by his side. Steve saw Bucky open up to you and you accepted him naturally. One day Steve found Bucky cuddled up with you and he knew this was his brother’s happy ending.

“I'm off to bed. Doll, take care,” Steve kissed your forehead. “Buck, please stop fighting with people. And think about what I said, both of you. I know where you come from but think about it before it causes more such issues.”

Steve closed the door behind him as he walked out and went off to bed. You turned off the movie and got up to throw the boxes away. Bucky took the boxes from you and walked out of the room to throw them off while you cleaned up the room and got ready to sleep.

Bucky walked in, took off his shirt and crawled in the bed beside you. “What are you thinking, doll?” He saw your solemn expression.

“Maybe Steve is right.” You whisper quietly, fumbling with the edge of the blanket.

Bucky holds your hand and pulls you close to lie on his chest. “Are you worried? I will do what you want to do, doll.”

“You have been doing what we want, Bucky, but after today, I didn't think it would get this serious.”

“Are you talking about my little tiff with Nat? It worked out at the end. You know that.” Bucky kissed your forehead.

“That and the fact that you got set up on a date. I-i know that you won't ever go but, it-it scared me. I-” Your voice started to waver.

You cried on Bucky’s chest. He lifted your face up and wiped away the tears, kissing your forehead.

“Doll, I get it. That's what made me more angry. They were talking about it to you as well. Trying to involve you in their little plans. I hated that you had to listen to all of that.”

“So? What do you think?” You lift your face and rest your chin on his chest, looking at him.

“Don't tell Steve I said this, it'll get to his head, but he is right.”

You rise up to give him a peck but Bucky pulls you for a deeper kiss. You moan and straddle his waist. He lifts your (his) t-shirt up and throws it on the floor, without letting his lips leave yours. You grind against his clothed erection.

“Didn't wear any panties, doll? My perfect girl.”

He flips you and removes his sweatpants. He aligns himself against your folds and slowly pushes himself in. your back arches on the bed and a loud moan escapes your throat. He flips the pair of you again and gets you on top of him, pushing his cock deeper into you. You slowly start to grind against him, making him moan and hiss. His hands are kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples as he starts pushing himself into you. You start bouncing over him to match his rutting speed.

“Fuck, doll. You're being so good right now.”

You whimper as you get closer to the edge. “Bucky, im gonna-”

“Cum, doll. Ive got us.”

His speed increases and soon you both cum and he fills you up while you're gushing down on him. You pant as your body falls on him. He caresses your back as you both catch your breaths.

He slowly gets up, taking you with him, to the bathroom to clean up. The cleaning up in the shower turns into another session and later you both fall on the bed, naked and exhausted. You pull yourself a little further from Bucky and pull out a dainty gold band from the bedside table.

You hand the ring over to Bucky who chuckles and slips it on your finger. You sigh with content and snuggle into the blanket with Bucky’s chest against your back, all tucked in.

……………….

The New Year’s party by Tony Stark is always iconic and it was just as this year too. You and Bucky came to the party together. Bucky was immediately called over by Tony to meet some people while you made your way to the corner of the room. Steve saw you and stood beside you with beer in his hand.

You look at Steve with beer and giggle.

Steve looks at you and rolls his eyes. “I know. But I enjoy the feeling of the bottle in my hand. Makes me feel normal, y’know.”

You nod and pat his back. He relaxes. You point at his hand and he shakes his head. “Not today.” Steve instantly changes the topic. “Bucky told me about your plan today. I'm here for support, you know that, right?” You nod your head vigorously, making Steve laugh out loud.

Hearing Steve laugh, Bucky turns his head in the direction to see a smile on your face while Steve laughs. He relaxes a little and goes back to the conversation. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not get to you the entire night. Someone either dragged him away or you were occupied with conversation with the teammates, but mostly it was the first reason.

It was time for dinner and you started digging around the buffet table to find your favorites. Bucky subtly joined you and handed him the plate.

“I'm nervous, doll.” He whispers in your ears. You look up to him and his stale blue eyes are staring deep into yours. You look around to see if someone isn't looking and pull him in a very secluded corner. You peck his lips and hug him tightly. He releases the breath he didn't know he was holding and wraps his free arm around you.

“Thank you, doll, I needed it.”

You take the plate from him and walk back to the buffet table and gather more food before moving back to the corner of the room. Bucky looks at you as you go with a bounce in your step. He could tell you were happy with the decision and he smiled.

……………….

People were counting down and Bucky was dragged to the other side of the room. You stood in your corner and tried to find Bucky in the crowd. You could have pushed through but he was too surrounded. You shift from one foot to another. The heels were killing you and Bucky had promised that you'd leave immediately after the countdown was done.

Bucky dodged and stumbled against the crowd to reach you. He heard many women in the crowd saying they had a chance with him and he did not want to give it to them.

3

Bucky came across one woman who tried to grab his shirt.

2

Natasha pointed at some woman behind Bucky who would like a kiss but Bucky distracted her

1

Almost there

Happy New Year!

Your back was to the crowd. A hand slipped around your waist and pulled you around to face your blue-eyed man. “Happy New Year, doll.”

He kissed you deeply. He was pouring out all the adrenaline that had flown into him while reaching you. Your hand cupped his face and pulled him closer. His metal arm held the back of your head to angle it better while his flesh arm held you tightly against his body.

You heard the entire room gasp and then pin drop silence. You needed to breathe so you tapped his shoulder twice. He pulled his lips away from yours and rested his forehead against yours.

“I guess it's time, doll.”

He moves to your side and pulls you closer to him. But before he could get a word out, Sam jumped in.

“You and her? When did that happen?”

“Well, if you would be quiet, I would tell you.” Bucky pulls you to the couch and sits down, taking you on his lap. You try to slide down beside him but his hold won’t budge. “Well, this is a family matter and I assume the rest of you got the message.”

“Right, well, thank you all for joining the party but I guess it ends here today.” Tony starts shooing people away.

Steve comes and sits beside Bucky and you. He slaps Bucky on the back supportively and you smile a little before burying your face in Bucky’s neck out of embarrassment.

“Everyone is gone. Out with it, Tinman.” Sam jumps onto the adjacent sofa with Nat and the rest of the team in tow.

“We're married.” Bucky pulls out his hand from around your waist and grabs your left hand to show off the matching wedding bands.

“What the fuck!!!” Natasha jumps out of the seat and comes close to check the rings.

“Since when?” Tony asked.

“Three years now, right doll?” You nod.

“Three years! Right under our noses?”

“When did you get married? Where? How? What?”

Everyone was very confused with the revelation.

“We met during the fallout and well, i started to fall in love with her. She felt the same and we got married in a city hall in New York.” Bucky explained in short terms. You were still in his lap and nodded to everything he said, supporting his statement.

“But, why were we not invited? We were with you the whole time! How did we not know about this?” Sam almost screamed his head off.

“You werent there all the time. Remember the day Steve sent you all to stakeout? He helped me and the doll get to the city hall and we got married. Captain America as our witness.” Bucky chuckled at the last statement, earning a small whack from you on his chest. Steve just rolled his eyes.

“You knew!” Natasha pointed at Steve who shrugged. “It wasn't my story to tell and I just wanted to see my best friend happy. He was happy with her so I stopped them.”

The discussion went on for almost an hour. Your little stifled yawn caught Bucky’s attention and he got up with you in his arms.

“Alright kids, my wife and I are tired and I have plans for our third anniversary tomorrow.”

“Bye.” You wave at them and slump back in his arms.

“Wait! At Least tell us your anniversary date.”

“It's January 1st. It was dead winter and my wife showed me that I can be happy during the cold too.”

He lets the elevator door shut on everyone’s faces. Seeing a sleepy you in his arms was all he could ask for this New Year.

................................

this fic is open for requests

[l0standn0tf0und]

James Buchanan Barnes ☆ fic recs p.3

part 1.

part 2.

part 40s(wip)

♡ = smut, 18+ only

bucky with a partner who isn’t quite…right

bucky and touch headcanons

all these things that I've done

bloodstains and daydreams

how's retirement, bucky?

scars to your beautiful

complaining by bucky

silver and garnet

good morning

in my dreams

almost kisses

gentle kisses

filthy fingers

cold metal

the life

♡closer

♡rinse cycle

♡enlivened mornings

♡bucky's second first time

♡helping bucky stay grounded by riding him

All credits and support to the authors: @hesthermay @fandoms-writings @collaredsoldat @angelltheninth @buckybarnesandmarvel @mrs-bucky-barnes106 @mercurial-chuckles @tom-holland-parker @buckys-metal-arm @eufezco @buckys-wintersoldier @aquaticmercy @embbarnes @brunchable @gaysindistress

masterlist

[navybrat817]

Moving in Slow Motion

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: Everything changes for Bucky when he meets you and your daughter.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff, meet-cute, daughter nicknamed Sweet Pea, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: How mob!Bucky and our single mom met. Thanks to @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me babble about this AU. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky met you and Sweet Pea at a science museum and his life changed for the better.

Growing up, Bucky enjoyed going to the museum. Beyond developing critical and analytical thinking, science encourages curiosity and creativity.

In another life, he liked to imagine he taught science and had a family instead of being a mob boss.

It wasn’t fair to think that since his friends were his family, but something was missing that they couldn’t provide him with.

Whether for nostalgic purposes or to clear his head, he found himself back in the familiar museum. He stood and silently observed various exhibits, his eyes darting back and forth as families bustled around him and enjoyed the interactive experiences.

Something tightened in his chest and he didn’t want to ponder on that for long.

A chorus of chatter and excitement drew his attention and he stepped back to make room when he saw a group of kids in matching shirts walk by. Field trips were always something to look forward to and the wonder in their eyes reminded him of simpler times.

“Mama, Mama, look!” A sweet voice called out before something bumped his leg. He glanced down to see a little girl look up at him with wide eyes. “Sorry, Mister.”

Bucky Barnes struck fear into powerful men all over the world. He could only imagine how he looked to this sweet little girl with his large and imposing stature.

People liked to say he had a cold heart, but one look at her and it melted.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Sweet Pea.” He wasn’t sure where the nickname came from as he crouched down to make sure she was okay. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

She quickly shook her head and appeared to relax a bit when he gave her a small smile. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. “No, Mister. I’m okay.”

He nodded, glad to hear that. “You just got excited by everything here, didn’t you? I get it.”

“Uh-huh.” She smiled, making his smile widen. He didn’t smile much these days. “Science is my favorite!”

“It’s my favorite, too,” he said, pointing to one of the rooms. “Did you know in that room you can try to build your own roller coaster?”

She gasped, her eyes lighting up. “I can?!”

He chuckled. Her enthusiasm was infectious. “You sure can. I’ll bet you can build a really good one.”

“Sir, did she bump into you?” You rushed over through the crowd as Bucky’s eyes flickered up, his breath caught in his throat. You weren’t in a matching shirt like the kids, but wore a similar color. “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t help but stare at you as he stood upright, everything moving in slow motion. The little girl made his heart melt, but you set it on fire.

“I said sorry, Mama,” your daughter said, a slight pout on her face when you put a protective arm around her and gave him a wary look. He appreciated your protective instinct. “Accidents happen.”

Bucky wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself that his eyes went to your left hand and was happy to not see a wedding ring. Questions went through his mind, ranging from why you weren’t married to what was the full backstory of you and your daughter?

“I know how happy you are to be here, but you also need to be careful and stay close to me,” you said in a gentle, but firm tone. Bucky had a feeling you weren’t referring to bumping into people, but to avoid strangers. “Okay?”

“Okay, Mama,” she replied, hugging your legs.

“It’s fine. Really. I’m pretty sure I walked straight into a wall once because one of the exhibits distracted me,” he teased, unsure of why he wanted to talk to you. He just did.

You smiled after a moment, keeping your arm around your daughter. “I appreciate that. This visit was all she talked about for the last week.”

“I don’t blame her. I hope she has the best time,” he said sincerely.

Your daughter tugged on your shirt. “Show him what I colored!”

Your eyes went to Bucky before you dug into your tote bag. “What do we say?” You asked your daughter.

“Please,” she replied.

Bucky smiled to himself when you took out a coloring sheet with various science and space objects. “Wow! Did you color this?” He asked the little girl. “It’s very good.”

She smiled proudly. “Uh-huh!”

“It’s for a contest. The winner gets a free season pass to the museum,” you explained, carefully tucking it back in your bag.

“I hope I win,” she said, hopefulness in her innocent eyes.

Maybe he could make a donation and get that season pass for her. Hell, he had enough money to buy the museum if he wished.

“Well, I’m not a judge, but you’d win if it was up to me,” Bucky said, taking it as a victory when she smiled again.

You gazed at him before you shook your head. “We should get back to the group.”

“Aww,” she pouted, giving Bucky a small wave. “Bye bye, Mister.”

“Bucky. My name is Bucky,” he said, wishing the wholesome interaction didn’t have to end. He was completely enamored with the two of you. “It was nice meeting you, Sweet Pea.”

“Sweet Pea?” You repeated. He worried he made a mistake in saying that before you smiled. “I call her that sometimes.”

“It’s fitting,” he said, tucking a bit of his hair back. “Any chance I might get your name before you go?”

You hesitated before you told him. You even gave him your daughter’s real name. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

Bucky was probably pushing his luck, but he’d regret it if he didn’t try. “Look, I know this is forward, but can I give you my number?” He asked, giving you what he hoped was a charming yet soft stare.

He didn’t take offense to the skepticism in your eyes. “Um…” You glanced over your shoulder to make sure the group was still close by.

“It’s more than okay if you say no,” he said. He didn’t want you to feel pressured in the slightest and he shouldn’t have assumed you were single because you weren’t wearing a ring.

It was also selfish in a way since you and your daughter seemed so bright and his world was dark, but maybe you two were the real reason he went to the museum today.

After a moment and exchanging a look with your daughter, you shrugged and handed him your phone. “Sure, why not?”

His heart soared when he put his number in, wondering how quickly he’d hear from you. “You won’t regret it,” he promised, making sure to give Sweet Pea one more smile, too. “Have fun making the roller coaster. And good luck with the contest.”

“Thanks, Mister Bucky!”

Bucky’s heart melted all over again as she pulled you away. You even glanced back and gave him a tiny smile, which he returned with one of his own.

He didn’t know you yet, but he sensed deep down that your expectations were set low when it came to men. He was going to enjoy raising the bar.

And he was going to enjoy giving you and Sweet Pea the best life possible, if you gave him a chance.

Wait ‘til the gang hears about this…

I don't have a name yet for the AU and still coming up with a nickname for our reader (Dream Girl and Starlight have been suggested!), but I can't wait to share more. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mohish-ko]

★ "But I knew him" ★

[deliciousangelfestival]

He's The Sweetest

Summary: After discovering his secret and coming to terms with it, she faces an even bigger challenge—dealing with her family.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Author Note : This is a second part of He's The Killer

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky sat in a dimly lit office, the tension thick as he faced his boss, Jake, who sat behind the desk. The room felt cold, sterile, just like the life he’d been living for years. Jake leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable as Bucky’s voice cut through the silence

“Accept my resignation,” Bucky said firmly.

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly not pleased. “It’s difficult to let you go. I’m serious.”

As if on cue, Bucky’s phone buzzed. He glanced down, his hardened expression softening ever so slightly as he read the message.

You: “Can Alpine stay at my place today? I have another panda toy for her.”

Bucky stared at the screen for a moment, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. He quickly replied, his thumb hovering awkwardly over the heart emoji before hitting send.

Bucky: “Of course. 💕”

He chuckled to himself—never in his life had he thought he’d use that emoji. But this was the first time you had offered to bring Alpine, his beloved cat, to your place. Why? A small knot of concern twisted in his chest.

His lighthearted moment shattered as he tapped into his surveillance feed from the secret lair in his apartment. His eyes widened. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

On the screen, he saw you standing in front of his hidden room, eyes wide with shock. His heart dropped. This was why he needed his retirement approved—quickly.

Taking a deep breath, his mind racing. His entire life had been a bleak mix of exhaustion, bitterness, and emptiness. He’d been a hitman for so long, it had swallowed him whole. The thrill, the violence—it used to be all he knew.

But that had started to change the day he found that baby panda.

It was during one of his missions—his target had been involved in the black market and owned a panda as a pet. Bucky remembered seeing the fluffy little creature, terrified and out of place, and for the first time in a long time, something had stirred in him.

He’d cradled the baby panda in his arms, its softness grounding him in a way nothing else had. He couldn’t leave it behind. After eliminating the target, he made sure the panda was sent to a sanctuary where it could be safe. That same panda had grown and was eventually sent to the zoo where it could be with others of its kind.

Since then, pandas had become more than just animals to him. They represented innocence, something he hadn’t felt in years. It had started with that baby panda and, unexpectedly, it had continued with you.

Meeting you had been a complete surprise. You were the first stranger who had ever willingly helped him. That day at the zoo, when you’d offered him your umbrella in the pouring rain—it wasn’t just an act of kindness, it was something more. You worked as a nurse, saving lives, the complete opposite of what he did. That contrast between your worlds fascinated him.

And now, you’d found his secret.

Jake’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You’re really not changing your mind, huh?” Jake said, leaning forward, his hands resting on the desk.

He started typing, his fingers flying across the keyboard. After a few moments, he pointed at the screen. “Here. Done. Everything’s erased.”

Bucky glanced at the screen, relief flooding him. "I’ll return the weapons," he added.

Jake shook his head with a dry laugh. “Keep 'em.”

“No,” Bucky replied, shaking his head, especially after the look of shock he’d seen on your face. “I’m done.”

Jake studied him for a long moment, leaning back in his chair again, arms crossed. “You’ve changed, man.”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “I’ve decided to change.”

With a low whistle, Jake stood and offered his hand. “Well, congrats. You’ve graduated from an ice block into a normal human being.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he shook Jake’s hand.

Jake handed him a letter. “Here. With this, you can work as a contractor anywhere you want. Consider it a gift.”

Bucky took the letter, folding it neatly. “Thanks, Jake.”

With a final nod, Bucky turned to leave, his hand on the door. “Goodbye.”

“See you around, Barnes,” Jake called after him, his tone softer now.

Bucky walked out of the office, his mind already on you, on what you’d seen—and on how he was going to explain his life, his past, and everything he wanted to leave behind for you.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bucky made his way to your place, noticing how quiet the street was as he walked up to your building. When he reached your door, it seemed like no one was home. He frowned, but just as he was about to knock, your neighbor, the sweet elderly woman from down the hall, spotted him.

“Ah, James! How are you, dear?” she called out warmly, shuffling over with a small box in her hands. “Could you give this to your girlfriend? I made her a lemon cake. I heard she’s home.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. ‘So, you’re home?’ he thought, glancing back at your door. “Oh, thanks, Gladys,” he replied, accepting the box. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”

The woman smiled, patting his arm. “Thanks to her for helping with my hip pain. She's a blessing.”

He nodded, offering her a kind smile. “Glad to help. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Turning back to your door, Bucky knocked softly, his heart pounding. “Y/N? Gladys made you a cake.”

There was silence for a moment before he heard soft footsteps approaching the door. It cracked open just slightly, and through the small gap, he could see you, holding Alpine in your arms. Your face was hesitant, guarded.

Bucky immediately sensed your fear. He felt a knot tighten in his chest, knowing he was the reason for it.

“Hi,” he said softly, his voice low, trying to reassure you.

You didn’t reply right away, just staring at him with uncertainty.

“Can I come in?” Bucky asked gently, his hand still holding the box of cake. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

You hesitated for a moment longer, but then, with a small nod, you opened the door wider, stepping back to let him inside. You didn’t speak, still standing a few feet away from him, clutching Alpine to your chest as if she were a shield.

Bucky took a deep breath, setting the cake down on the counter. He turned to face you, his eyes soft but serious. “I know what you found,” he began. “The weapons, the surveillance… I need to explain.”

You stayed quiet, watching him closely, your grip on Alpine tightening.

“I used to be a hitman,” Bucky admitted, his voice steady. “For years, that’s what I did. I was… good at it. But it made my life empty, and I became someone I didn’t even recognize anymore.”

"Two years ago, I got hurt badly. I almost died." He paused, reflecting on the memory. "It was a miracle. Because a nurse didn't give up on saving me."

Your eyes widened slightly at the confirmation, but you didn’t move, just listening.

“After that, I didn’t want that life anymore. Even before I met you, I’d already started planning to retire,” Bucky continued, taking a step closer to you. “Meeting you… it just made me want to hurry up and leave it all behind. You were the first person who made me think I could actually be someone else.”

You shifted slightly, lowering your gaze to the floor for a moment, processing everything he was telling you.

“I get if you don’t want anything to do with me after this,” Bucky said quietly. “But I’m not that man anymore. I don’t want to be.”

There was a long pause before you finally spoke. “So… you’re retired now?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. I’ve left that life behind for good. Everything’s been erased.”

You looked up at him, still holding Alpine close, but something in your expression softened. “That means… you could protect me, right?”

Bucky blinked, surprised by your question. “Protect you?”

You bit your lip, looking a bit sheepish. “I mean… it’s not like I need someone to, but… it’s kinda reassuring knowing you could, if anything ever happened.”

A small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of Bucky’s lips. He took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “I’d never let anything happen to you,” he promised.

You finally smiled back, the tension in the room starting to dissolve. “I believe you.”

There was a moment of silence, but this time it wasn’t awkward or heavy. It was peaceful. You placed Alpine gently down on the couch and walked toward Bucky, resting your hand on his chest. “I guess that’s just another part of you I’ll have to get used to.”

Bucky exhaled, the weight of the conversation lifting off his shoulders. “Thank you… for understanding.”

You smiled, a bit shyly this time, and then you led him to the bedroom. The night was quiet, and as the two of you settled into bed, you rested your head on his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. It felt safe, comforting, like you were finally where you both belonged.

Alpine curled up at the foot of the bed, and Bucky pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his heart full in a way it hadn’t been for a long, long time.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, warming the room. You stirred slightly, still wrapped in Bucky’s arms, feeling a rare moment of peace. That is, until you heard the front door creak open, followed by your mother’s voice echoing from the kitchen.

“Y/N, honey! I brought some food for your fridge!”

Your heart dropped, and you shot up in bed, wide-eyed. 'Oh no. Mom's here. I'm not ready for this!' You frantically glanced around the room, then froze when you heard another voice—a second, more cheerful one.

“And we’re borrowing your bathroom!” your aunt chimed in from the hallway.

Your eyes widened even further. 'Damn it, Aunt Margaret too?' You turned to Bucky, who was still blissfully asleep beside you. Leaning over him, you shook his shoulder with urgency. “Wake up!”

Bucky blinked, still half-asleep, his brows furrowing as he mumbled, “Huh? What’s going on?”

Panic surged through you. You glanced toward the door and back at him. Without another word, you grabbed the blanket, quickly wrapping it around him as you began pushing him toward your wardrobe. “Just get in here!”

Still groggy, Bucky allowed himself to be shoved toward the wardrobe. “Are we under attack?” he muttered, half-dazed.

“Oh, it’s way worse,” you whispered harshly, yanking open the wardrobe door.

Bucky immediately tensed, his training kicking in. “Who?” His voice was low and serious now.

You glanced nervously toward the hallway. “My aunts.”

Bucky blinked, confused. “Your—”

Before he could say more, you stuffed him into the wardrobe, quickly closing the door. You ran a hand through your hair in frustration, throwing on a hoodie and rushing out of the bedroom.

In the kitchen, your mom, Sophie, was already busy rearranging food in your fridge, humming to herself as she worked. She turned when she heard your footsteps. “Oh, hi, sweetie. Hope you don’t mind me coming over. I brought some meals for the week.”

Behind her, Aunt Margaret stood with a small smile. “We didn’t want to bother you, but we need to use your bathroom real quick before heading to the spa. Hope that’s okay.”

You forced a smile, trying to stay calm. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Smile more, don’t be rude,” your mother reminded you, placing another container in the fridge.

“Mom, I just woke up,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes.

Suddenly, a sharp gasp came from behind you. “Oh my goodness, who’s this?” Aunt Margaret exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

Your stomach dropped again as you turned and ran back toward the bedroom. You barely made it through the door before you saw Margaret standing by the wardrobe. She had, of course, snooped her way in, and now she was staring wide-eyed at Bucky, who was still awkwardly wrapped in the blanket. His muscular arms were exposed, and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hello,” Bucky said, his voice deep but sheepish, as he pulled the blanket tighter around himself.

Your mom and Aunt Margaret were utterly speechless, their mouths hanging open as they took in the sight of him. Sophie blinked several times, trying to process what she was seeing. “Who… is this?” she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, feeling your face flush. “Uh… this is my boyfriend.”

Both your mom and Aunt Margaret gasped in unison. “Boyfriend?” they exclaimed, their eyes lighting up with disbelief and excitement.

“Oh my goodness!” your mom clapped her hands together. “You didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend!”

Margaret, still grinning, rushed toward Bucky, looking at him like he was the most exciting thing she’d seen in years. “We’re so happy for you, Y/N! And such a handsome one, too.”

Bucky, clearly out of his element, nodded politely. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a small, awkward smile.

Your mom, still beaming, clasped her hands together. “You both have to come to dinner on Sunday. The whole family will be there. We’d love to get to know him better.”

Bucky straightened up, still holding the blanket around him. “Of course, ma’am. I’d be happy to.”

After what felt like an eternity of pleasantries, your mom and Aunt Margaret finally left, their excitement palpable as they discussed plans for the evening family dinner. You closed the door behind them, letting out a long, exasperated breath.

Bucky emerged from the bedroom, running a hand through his hair. “So… dinner?”

You turned to him, shaking your head. “Prepare yourself, Bucky. It’s going to be dreadful.”

He gave you a puzzled look. “You don’t like family dinners?”

You sighed, sitting down on the couch. “It’s not that. It’s just… a lot.”

Bucky sat beside you, looking thoughtful. “I’ve never really done the whole family dinner thing,” he admitted quietly.

You glanced at him, surprised. “Never?”

He shook his head. “Nope. This is new territory for me.”

A small smile crept onto your face. “Well, get ready. My family doesn’t hold back.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his hand resting on yours. “Guess we’ll face it together then.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. “Yeah. Together.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

It was a quiet Sunday evening when you and Bucky arrived at your family’s house for dinner. As soon as you stepped inside, all eyes turned toward Bucky. It was like he was some rare, exotic artifact on display. Every relative, from your cousins to your elderly aunts, stared at him with wide eyes and hushed whispers, as if they couldn’t believe you had brought someone with you, let alone someone like him.

Bucky, dressed neatly but clearly out of his comfort zone, politely nodded and shook hands as he was introduced to everyone. He kept his posture composed, but you could tell he was uneasy by the way he kept glancing at you, searching for some sort of reassurance.

At the dinner table, the seating was predictably divided—men on one side, women on the other. You sat with your mother, aunts, and cousins, while Bucky sat with the men, looking slightly out of place as they tried to make small talk. You caught his eye across the table, and he gave you a small smile, as if to say, I’ve got this.

But then, it happened. One of your nosier aunts, Aunt Margaret, leaned over to you with a curious glint in her eyes. “So, what does your boyfriend do for work?”

You took a breath, bracing yourself. “He’s a contractor,” you replied casually, hoping that would suffice.

Aunt Margaret wasn’t done. She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Does he have a home?”

“Yes,” you said, your tone firm. “He has his own place.”

“Well, that’s good,” Aunt Margaret said with a sniff. “So much better than your father. He had a medical degree, but what good did it ever do him? Useless.”

You felt a sharp pang in your chest. Your father had always done what he could. He might not have used his degree, but he had made sure you had a roof over your head, food on the table, and your school tuition paid. When your mother needed surgery, he borrowed money to make it happen, and he paid it all back. In your eyes, he had been a good father, despite his flaws. But finding out about his infidelity at his funeral—that had shattered you.

Before you could respond, Aunt Margaret continued, oblivious to the hurt in your eyes. “Well, at least your future is secure now. You could just set the wedding date. The family has already met him, after all.”

You clenched your fists under the table. “Why is everyone so obsessed with me getting married? Are any of you planning to pay for it?”

Aunt Margaret looked taken aback. “It’s just—well, why wait? Especially at your age.”

You felt your temper rising. “If you’re not donating or paying for my wedding, you have no right to give me orders.”

Aunt Margaret gasped, her hand flying to her chest. She stood abruptly and left the table in a huff.

Your mother, always the peacemaker, leaned toward you. “Don’t be mad, sweetie. They only want the best for you.”

You let out a dry laugh. “The best for me? Mom, I’ve seen enough of the marriages in this family to be scared out of my mind. Maybe they just want to see if I’ll have a better marriage than they did.”

Your mom sighed softly. “You don’t know how it will be until you go through it.”

“Mom, please,” you said, shaking your head. “I know you want the best for me. But the one who will actually live the marriage is me, not them.”

Your voice softened as you continued, “I do want to get married. I want to be with the man I love, to stay by his side for the rest of my life. But I need to be sure it’s what I want, on my terms.”

Your aunt, having recovered from her earlier offense, decided to pipe up again. “Well, you’re not getting any younger. Why waste time?”

That was it. You snapped. “Almost all of you have been in terrible marriages! Domestic violence, cheating husbands—and him!”

You pointed across the table at your uncle, whose face turned a shade of red. “You’re the worst of all. You cheated on your wife while she was sick, stressed her so much it led to her getting breast cancer! While she was going through chemo, all she ever wanted was for you to apologize, and you couldn’t even do that. No wonder your kids hate you.”

The table went dead silent. Your uncle glared at you, but he couldn’t deny what you had said. The truth hung in the air like a dark cloud.

“You’re rude!” one of the other aunts muttered under her breath.

You let out a humorless laugh, throwing your hands up. “I’m the bad guy? Fine. It’s not a family gathering if there’s no drama, right?”

Your voice dropped, filled with contempt. “Look, even though we’re family, there are still boundaries. And you’ve crossed them.”

You could feel the tension in the room rise, but you weren’t done. Glancing at Bucky, who had been watching in silence, you reached for his hand, gripping it firmly. “Oh, and if anyone here thinks they can push my mom around, remember one thing.”

The entire table leaned in as you gave them a deadly serious look. “My boyfriend is a hitman.”

Everyone gasped, eyes widening as they looked between you and Bucky. Bucky himself seemed surprised, his eyes blinking as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said. He didn’t deny it, though, which only added to the shock.

You continued, undeterred. “I’ve seen his weapon collection. So if any of you think about messing with us—don’t.”

Your aunts and uncles exchanged nervous glances, clearly shaken. One by one, they started to gather their things, mumbling hurried excuses as they filed out of the house. Only your cousins lingered behind, giving you discreet thumbs up as they left, clearly impressed by your boldness.

As the last of them disappeared, you turned to Bucky, letting out a long breath. “Well, that went well.”

Bucky gave you an amused smile. “Guess I don’t have to return my weapons after all.”

You laughed, feeling lighter now that the tension had lifted. “Guess not. But I think we’ve officially scared them off for good.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You were amazing back there.”

You leaned into him, feeling a sense of victory. “Yeah, I was.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the dust settled from the family dinner, only three of you remained in the house: you, Bucky, and your mother. You felt the weight of the awkward silence pressing down, and when it was finally time to leave, you slipped into the car first, not ready to face your mom. You knew she would defend her sisters and brother, no matter what.

Through the window, you caught a glimpse of Sophie, your cousin, glancing your way. Her expression was a mix of concern and curiosity as she exchanged whispers with your mother. Sophie was aware of your feelings, but she had brushed them off, just as she always did. You had confided in her about your trauma, about how her mother's words had cut deep, yet she had chosen to ignore it. In that moment, you realized what you were holding in was like a ticking bomb, waiting for the right moment to explode.

Bucky noticed Sophie’s gaze and turned to her, curiosity etched on his face. “So, was it true what she said? Are you really a hitman?”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “I used to be.”

Sophie was taken aback, her eyes widening slightly. “Well, I guess she likes strong men,” she said, forcing a nervous laugh that felt strained in the tense atmosphere.

“Ma'am, may I have your permission to marry your daughter?” Bucky asked, his tone respectful yet playful.

Sophie raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and delight crossing her face. “I won’t ask her now; I’ll wait until she’s calmed down. But I do need your consent.”

“Of course,” Sophie said with a genuine smile, her eyes softening. “I give you my blessing.”

As you drove back home, the tension in the car was palpable. You sighed heavily, breaking the silence. “Urgh. I’m so embarrassed.”

Bucky glanced at you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you show so many emotions.”

“No…,” you protested, feeling your cheeks flush with heat.

“I’m not kidding. Instead, I’m amazed,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Really?” you asked, a flicker of surprise igniting in your voice.

“Yes. In my former job, I used weapons to take out my targets. But you…” Bucky glanced at you with admiration. “You wield words like weapons. It’s not just a triple kill; I saw them lose it.”

His gaze held you captive, and you felt the truth of his words resonate deep within you. He would never put you on the edge; the ending was obvious: you would win the argument. “If you became a lawyer, you’d have a 100% success rate,” he added, grinning.

You looked down at your hands in your lap, feeling a warmth spread through you. “You know, the reason I was brave back there is that you were by my side.”

Bucky’s expression softened, and he reached out, holding your hand gently. “If you want me to,” he said, his voice low and steady, “I can make them disappear. Especially your uncle. Just say the word.”

His grip was reassuring, and for the first time since the dinner, you felt a flicker of safety amidst the chaos.

Bucky glanced over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "By the way, I’ve got an extra ticket to see the pandas. Want to go?"

Your face lit up immediately. "Of course!" you replied, barely able to contain your excitement, already picturing the fluffy pandas in your mind.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Extras:

In the stark, sterile environment of the emergency room two years ago, chaos reigned as doctors and nurses hustled to save a critical patient. The man lay on the gurney, his body battered and pale, a deep stab wound in his abdomen oozing crimson, soaking the sheets beneath him. His eyes were vacant, and the beeping monitors signaled a disheartening rhythm that reflected his fading pulse.

“Time of death,” the attending physician announced grimly, his voice heavy with the weight of finality.

“Y/N, stop it. He’s gone,” one nurse urged, her expression a mix of concern and resignation. She stepped back, crossing her arms tightly as if trying to shield herself from the painful reality.

“No. Let’s give it one more try,” you insisted, your heart racing with adrenaline and determination. You positioned yourself beside the patient, refusing to back down in the face of despair.

With steely resolve, you pressed your hands against his chest, starting compressions with calculated urgency. “Come on, just one more time,” you urged, your voice steady yet filled with hope, as if willing him to respond.

The seconds felt like an eternity, but suddenly, the monitor emitted a series of frantic beeps, and you felt a faint pulse beneath your fingers. “I’ve got it! I’ve got a pulse!” you shouted, your heart soaring with renewed hope.

A wave of relief washed over the room as the team rallied around you, working swiftly to stabilize him. You squeezed the patient’s hand, your grip firm and reassuring. “I’m glad you didn’t give up,” you murmured softly, your eyes locking onto his as a connection formed in that fleeting moment.

As the medical team continued their efforts, you noticed the scars etched into his skin—marks of battles fought and survived. Leaning closer, you brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, your heart swelling with empathy. “You’ve been through a lot. Get some rest,” you whispered gently, a comforting smile breaking through your worry as you remained by his side, willing him to pull through.

The room, once filled with despair, now held a fragile glimmer of hope, and you knew that as long as you believed in his fight, miracles could still happen.

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff

@borkybawnes

@unaxv

@danzer8705

@snowangel431

@strangefunthornqueen

@calwitch

@billyseye

@yiiiikesmish

@irishhappiness

@nicestgirlonline

@indomitablemegnolia

@dreamlandcreations

@identity2212

[lostwhump]

@whumptober | Day #11: "Leave No Trace Behind" Avengers: Infinity War (2018)

[aquaticmercy]

Of Black Ink and White Lilies

Summary : Bucky wants to get a tattoo, so he asks you for advice.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) (written with tattooed!reader in mind.)

Warnings/tags : fluff. Tattoos. Angst if you really squint.

Requested by : myself!

Word count : 1.6k

Note : Not many of you on here know this, but I’m quite heavily tattooed! I have a sleeve and the top half of my chest is filled. My legs are quite full, too. My irl boyfriend also has tattoos, but he has significantly less than me, so he often asks me for advice on what to get next. This fic is inspired by him because he gives me Bucky vibes lol. Enjoy!

Requests are open!

○ buy me a ko-fi ○

Bucky Barnes had been through so much in his lifetime. Since witnessing the horrors of World War II, the brutality of mind control, and eventually finding his freedom in the 21st century, he was bound to have changed, grown, and healed more times than he would ever care to admit. For a while, he was convinced that he overstayed his welcome. Until he met you. 

When he met you, he felt more alive than he ever did. You gave him something he had not found in the modern world: meaning.

Which is why— for the past few weeks at least— he’d been glancing at your tattoos with more interest, more intent, than he usually did. He loved your tattoos, he always had. 

It was fascinating how you viewed your skin as a canvas of colors and lines. Every drop of ink that lived into your skin seemed to tell a part of your life, and he admired how you wore them proudly, loudly on display for the world to see. From the intricate patterns that wound up your beautiful body, to the shapes that danced along skin, every piece was personal, intimate, and a wonderful confirmation of the life you had lived.

And Bucky is now realising that he also wanted part of him immortalised in ink. 

One problem: he didn’t know where to start. Until very recently, he never considered getting a tattoo. Hell, back when he was young, tattoos were something most people didn’t have, and he was sure Steve would probably give him a raised eyebrow if he got it in the 40s. It was a taboo— only sailors and bikers, the ultra-macho type had them. 

It was something he had to unlearn while adapting to modern life. You definitely sped up the process for him. Seeing ink on such a lovely human being — who he thought was extremely easy on the eyes — made him think twice about his old-fashioned views on ink. 

Every time he glanced at you, sprawled out on the couch reading your latest favourite novel or cooking pancakes for breakfast in one of his oversized shirts with all your body art on display, he felt the urge—heard the little voice in his head that said maybe it was time he etched something permanent onto his own skin.

That evening, you did what you always do on a lazy day— you were both curled up on the couch, tangled in each others’ presence. You were just admiring your boyfriend’s features when you noticed his gaze lingering a little longer than usual, particularly focused on the ink winding up body. You were used to him admiring your tattoos. He often traced his fingers absentmindedly over them, but this felt a bit different.

"You're staring again, Barnes," you teased as you nudged him gently. He blinked, your words pulling from his deep thoughts. He gave you an almost shy smile.

"Sorry, doll," he said, his fingers tracing a line of ink. "M’ just thinking."

"About?" You asked, tilting your head inquisitively. 

He hesitated for a moment longer than he had meant to. When he finally spoke, his voice came out a little softer than usual. "Bout’ getting a tattoo,” he answered.

You raised your eyebrows, unable to hide your pleasant surprise. Bucky had never mentioned wanting a tattoo before. You couldn’t help but smile as you leaned closer. "Really?”

"Really,” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. His metal hand rested on your knee, rubbing your skin. “I mean… I think so. I’m not sure what to get."

You had to admit, the thought of him even thinking of getting one made your heartbeat a little quick. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. Until now you weren’t sure that day would ever come. 

“Get something that means a lot to you,” your voice adorably squeaky with excitement. “Something personal."

“There’s a lot that means something to me,” Bucky considered it, “but I don’t know what would be right. You have all these beautiful pieces, and they seem to fit you perfectly. I don’t know what would do that for me.”

"It will fit if it feels right to you.” You placed your hand over his and squeezed gently, “I’m sure if you think about it, something’ll stand out."

Bucky was quiet for a moment, like he was deep in thought. You didn’t press him; this was something he had to decide for himself, and any form of pressure wouldn’t help. After all, you wanted it to mean as much to him as yours meant to you.

"You think I should go for something small to start?" His voice was thoughtful as bright blue eyes lifted up to meet yours.

"That’s up to you.” You said, putting your hand on his, “But that might be a good idea. You can always get bigger ones later."

"One step at a time, doll." Bucky found himself chuckling at the thought of getting more than one tattoo. 

You smiled. "Whatever you choose, I know it’ll be perfect." You leaned in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

—

A week passed since that conversation, and Bucky hadn’t said a word about the tattoo. You figured he either wasn’t ready yet or maybe still hadn’t made up his mind. 

It wasn’t until one evening, on a particularly rainy day, that the topic even came up again.

You came home that day, finding him waiting patiently in the living room. He had a small, shy smile on his handsome face.

"Hey, sweetheart," you greeted, placing your bag onto an armchair.

Bucky stood there almost awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. He was shifting his weight slightly like a high schooler that was about to ask his high school crush to prom. 

He was brimming with anticipation, or nerves? 

“I did something," he said, his voice a little smaller than usual. He was so cute when he was nervous.

"And what might that be?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Not answering, he instead reached down and lifted the hem of his t-shirt. He revealed a newly inked tattoo on his left side, just above his ribs. Your breath hitched as you saw in the delicate black and gray flowers that now decorated his battle-hardened skin.

Lilies.

The same flowers he had brought you on your very first date. 

Your heart fluttered as wildly as a baby bluebird taking flight for the first time. Your mind flooded back with memories of that day. It had been a wonderful date, simple and extravagant at all. He took you to dinner and a quiet walk along the waterfront, where you ended up talking for hours.

That day, Bucky had shown up with a bouquet of white lilies, their sweet smell filling the air as you had greeted him, and it filled your apartment for the entire week, making you think of him every time you’re home. The scent had made you think of Bucky so much that he had given you a lily-scented perfume for your first anniversary— and you knew it wasn’t cheap to get.

On that first date, the flowers were such a small gesture, but one that had stayed with you all this time. 

"Bucky…" you breathed out a sigh. Your hand reached out instinctively to touch the tattoo, but you stopped yourself, knowing it was still fresh. 

He read your emotions like an open book as his lips tugged into a small smile. "I remembered how much you liked them. How happy you looked when I brought them to you that night.” He put a hand on your waist. “I wanted something that reminded me of you. Of us."

Your eyes misted over, swelling with joy as you studied the delicate design. 

The art was perfect— elegant, simple, yet brimming with memories. You could see the care that had gone into choosing the design. The thought he had behind it. 

Bucky wasn’t the type to do things lightly and this tattoo was a perfect example of that.

“I can’t believe you chose this." You said, voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s smile softened, gazing at you with an admiration you recognized. He gently pulled you into his arms, careful not to press his side against you. "You told me to get something that mattered the most to me.”

You couldn’t help the tears that slipped from your eyes, caressing his cheek gently. You were overwhelmed by how sweet a man that had so much wrong done to him can be. "I love it. I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

You pulled back slightly, wiping your eyes. "How was it?"

Bucky chuckled, “Kinda stings, but worth it."

It seemed silly to you, that a man who was so used to pain even thought of the ache of getting a tattoo, but then you realized this is possibly the first time he was willingly inflicting pain on himself, and it was to commemorate your relationship.

You stifled a sob at the realisation. "Careful babe,” You shook your head. “Next thing you know you’ll be getting full sleeves."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful sparkle in his eyes. "You wish."

You pressed your lips to his, your heart full of fluttering content.

Bucky smiled against your lips. He may have been the Winter Soldier once, but now, he was simply Bucky— a man in love, with lilies inked into his skin to prove it.

“And maybe,” Bucky whispered quietly, already considering his next tattoo. “If you’re lucky.”

-end

[neonovember]

bucky barnes as a husband headcanon!

heavily inspired by my steve headcanons here, I wanna try my hand at writing more of james. he is the epitome of devotion, he falls first and falls hard.

this kind of takes part in an alternative au (think avengers are still together but its post the falcon and the winter soldier)

he is canonically good at cunnilingus

you can never get used to how intense bucky just..stares at you. Every single moment of the day you'll just catch him watching you silently not saying a word. It wasn't creepy, no it had this protective almost darkness to it that was all consuming. At one of Tony’s parties, he’s watching you across the room with a glass in his hand or mysterious and shit. (probably thinking about when is a polite time to leave)

which is never because bucky just drags you both out of every gathering. Every goodbye is an Irish one

man bun bucky. That’s it.

lets you cut his hair when it gets to the point of covering his eyes. Sometimes his stubble too, thumb circling and grazes your thigh as you lean over him with a scalpel.

most of the team are still gobsmacked at how bucky just's..trusts you. Whether it be with a shaving, or jumping out of a corner. If any of the team tried to pull a knife on bucky he would probably (not) accidently break their jaw

after missions all the Avengers know he’ll be offline for at least a couple days to be with you. What they don’t discuss is half of those days are fucking you bruised. He gets all pent up and irritated when he isn’t around you, it’s like you recalibrate his mood back to baseline regular bucky when he can finally sink into you.

Standard sleeping position: one arm wrapped around your stomach, the metal one around your thigh. Face buried into your neck.

doll, darlin’, honey

stations a few target practice posts in your backyard. teaches you how to shoot, chest pressed up against your back as he helps move your body in the right position. always make sure you know where the weapons are in the house

singing to records whilst he's cleaning said weapons at the table

takes you to all the places still standing he remembers in Brooklyn, you hold his hand and let him rest against your shoulder when the past gets caught in his throat.

Steve finds a place in the city with actual good music, where people actually dance, and it becomes your spot every Friday.

yeah, one thing bucky remembers would be his muscle memory of the dance floor, he’s goooood. Teaches you everything he knows in your kitchen of course, always ends up with you making out on top of each other though

dry humping like teenagers, bucky with his low hanging jeans, not wearing boxes and making a mess just from the taste of your mouth

actually, sometimes breaks down in tears when he realises you’re his wife. Like forever.

always thinking about you, what you're doing, if you've eaten. even if hes in the middle of recon you will be in the back of his mind.

leans over and loops his dog tags around your neck whenever he leaves for missions. kisses your eyelids when your sleeping and the fight calls him

the second time you and bucky visited Wakanda he had Shuri craft the ring to be fused into his vibranium finger..yeah I know.

bucky isn’t the extroverted talking type, but with you he is constantly just yapping..about anything and everything. Following you around the house like a puppy, coming to you for the answers about the new world and questions he always harboured even before the ice

bucky is hilarious, he's already an adonis, but he could laugh you of your pants

can’t bear fighting with you, he never yells. He just kind of goes quiet and takes a walk

you guys live in a house with a huge backyard and a wraparound porch

loves cooking, lets him turn his mind off sometimes and make you something hearty and warm. he has a frilly gingham patterned apron he wears and his curls are wrapped into a bun with your scrunchie. floor always ends up on his cheek, and you always end up on the kitchen bench with his mouth on you

night terrors had him sleeping in a sleeping bag next to the bed, he refused despite your attempts. Sometimes he'd wait till you fell asleep against him and make the heartbreaking quiet separation and sleep on the floor

sometimes likes to take of his arm around the house, especially sleeping. Keeps it near in case though, for you.

he’s thick everywhere…took an hour of foreplay minimum to get you ready for him. You both will never get used to each other, needing to take a moment of hushed gasps and groans when he first sinks in

the wedding was in Sams backyard in Delacroix, just Sam, Sarah, the kids and Yoshi and the team

fairylights wrapped around the spanish moss of hanging trees, soft jazz and hard liquor. Sarah’s seafood boil and a dance floor where bucky spends half the night with you there

dad!bucky on the other hand..now that is a different ballpark. wait no actually, just him when you're both expecting. let's not forgot when he stormed into the tower and broke through the office doors to ask why on earth tony had scheduled him a mission so close to the birth of your baby, tossing him his phone which was now crumbled heap of metal in the shape of his fists....(you were two weeks along)

[bubbarnes]

“... the weight, certain weight areas was toughest to get rid of while shooting Thunderbolts*.”

[erinwantstowrite]

right now im thinking about Friendsgiving and how funny it's gonna be but mostly im thinking about how the justice league will react upon hearing about the avengers and stuff. specifically the fact that peter doesn't know shit about bucky besides that he's captain america's rude ass boyfriend that is the only person willing to throw him around for enrichment

someone, upon hearing peter mention bucky: oh so what does bucky do?

peter, not knowing they mean as a job or as a hero: uh i think he killed that jfk guy

[incorrectquotesmcu]

Yelena: Do we force you to do things you don’t want to?

Y/N: Yeah, but it’s okay.

Bucky: How is it okay?

Y/N: I promised myself if I ever got friends I’d do whatever they said. Really, I’m lucky you guys found me before a cult did.

[lostalioth]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥

→ premise: if bucky was a pill then you were an addict and you wanna show him just addicted you are.

→ pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, cock piercing [jacobs ladder piercing], cock worship, nicknames [sweets, little one], oral [m receiving], small face fucking

→ a/n: kinktober 07

Now to say you were obsessed would be an understatement, you were addicted, captivated by your boyfriend Bucky Barnes. He didn't really understand why, often telling you he didn't deserve all the affection and attention you gave him. Therefore you were determined to show him your level of devotion as well as show him just how infatuated you were with him.

“Just lay back baby and let me worship you” you started explaining to Bucky in a soft tone as an attempt to calm his nerves. Lightly you push at his chest so that he backs up, his calf’s hitting the edge of the couch causing him to tumble back. He feels his whole body fill with heat at the look on your face as he falls back onto the couch. Your pupils blown, eyes lidded and glazed over in sheer lust, tugging your lip between your teeth, almost stifling a small moan at the sight of him. He leans back putting his hands out on the plush cushions, on instinct his thighs widen in a man spread. The new position giving your eyes perfect access to rake over his body, taking in the hard lines of his muscles that peaked through his tight Henley. As you soak in his state, his body responds, hips bucking up as his cock grows hard, his jeans and boxers becoming uncomfortable.

His nerves set afire once again as you sensually and slowly sink to your knees in front of him, your hands landing on his knees and traveling up his thighs to run over his bulge. “Sweets you know you dont have to do this” his cheeks flush in embarrassment as your tongue darts out to swipe over your top lip, you were practically salivating. Now Bucky wasn't the type of man to say no to a blow job obviously but he didn't feel deserving of being ‘worshiped’ as you called it.

“James Buchanan Barnes, shut up and let me appreciate my sexy ass boyfriend and his pretty cock, please?” Your voice comes out sassy and authoritative until the last word practically morphs into a plea. Your fingers are already working at undoing his belt buckle and the button to his jeans. He was growing more and more desperate for your mouth the longer the teasing went on.

“Mhmm yeah can definitely do that for ya’ little one” he rambled out, frantically nodding as his breathing grew heavier. You smile up at him in gratitude, your hands pulling his leather belt out of the loops and peeling his jeans down his legs. He lifts his hips up to aid you, his bulge finally feeling relief from its confines when you strip him of his boxers right after. His cock bouncing free and lightly hitting his toned stomach, a sigh falls from his lips as you take in the sight of it, making his stomach tighten and flip. He wasn't used to being admired in this way, the feeling unfamiliar but not unpleasant. His tip reddened and begging for attention as it leaks precum, your mouth watering as your eyes catch when the light hits his frenum piercings. 8 of them in total, one for every inch line the underside of his shaft making up his jacobs ladder piercing. To make it easier on you, taking all of him during your first time together he had you count each piercing as you felt them push inside you.

While you're lost in that memory, your eyes are still appreciating and committing the sight of his cock to memory as if you haven't seen it a hundred times by now. Bucky lifts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, hunching his body over to lean down and press his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. Prolonging the intimate moment with you on your knees, he cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb under your eye in a loving manner. You hum into the kiss, your body melting at his touch before you pull away, him returning to his previous position.

Your tongue pokes out of your mouth, dragging down his shaft hitting each piercing as it goes. He sucks in a breath, hands gripping onto the edge of the couch cushions to refrain from just jumping to the end with him fucking up into your hot mouth.

“Fuck sweets” he hissed out when you kiss and kitten lick at his balls before licking back up the side of his cock. You grip the base of him while licking at his tip causing his cock to twitch in your hand before you sink your mouth down on him. “Shit~ just like that little one, oh god” he groans out as his head falls back, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. Bucky knew there was no chance of him making it to heaven when he passed but he knew if he did there was no way it’d feel half as good as this.

He softly moans out when you hollow out your cheeks and suck, your tongue running on the underside of his tip. Bucky lifts up his shirt giving your hands better access to rub along and roam his body. Nails starching at his v-line as you sink your mouth further down on him, taking his cock to the base in your throat, counting each barbell in your head. bucky can feel his balls tighten as they sit full of cum, he was already getting close. “S’good sweets, fuck” he breathed out as he rests his hand on the back of your head. He felt heavy as he sat in your mouth, his piercings cold on your tongue.

“Mhm~ please little one, can i fuck your mouth?” He begs, normally he wouldn't ask but he didnt know how much longer you wanted to extend your worship of his cock but he didn't think he’d last much longer. You hum around him in response as a ‘yes’ bracing yourself by grabbing onto his thick thighs. “Thank you, thank you oh fuck” a long string of curses leave his lips as his hips gradually start bucking up, thrusting his cock into your mouth, your spit spilling out and pooling at the base of his cock as your jaw goes slack to accommodate him fucking your thorat.

“Worship me whenever you want little one, this cocks all yours anyway sweets.” He groaned out, his hips flattering in rhythm as the knot in his stomach was about to snap. It would take a while before Bucky felt deserving of your adoration and worship but if this was one of the ways you planned to show it, he could get used to it.

→ a/n: this wasnt proofread and it was rushed as always, its also being posted later than i wanted lmao kinktober is low-key starting to drain me but fuck it. It’s been giving me issues with this post showing up in tags too so im annoyed with it lol.

[tojigasm]

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀Imperfect For You

ᥫ᭡... Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Warnings: domestic fluff | comfort | reader had a bad day | smut | flirting | some anal kissing | cussing | NSFW, minors DNI

⊹₊˚ꕤ˚₊⊹ Been sooooo busy with school so here's a little something for you beauties. Hopefully I'll be able to finish one of my Swann Arlaud drafts too. Kisses xoxo

You'd like to think that bad days happen as a frequent collapse of karma you'd earned up over each month or so. Coined as 'The Fuckening' by both Bucky and yourself.

on most annual karmic days of the month, you usually run into small issues throughout the day. you miss a light on your way to work, maybe burn your lip on coffee, or accidently wear two different socks.

However, today was abnormally awful with seemingly no end to your karmic backlog of bullshit built up.

It started with you tripping over one of Bucky's high tops while getting ready, then you missed a light on your way to work, ultimately resulting in you being late, and then you'd stumbled over your words during a work presentation, got nauseous during lunch because you'd forgotten your packed lunch at home without enough time to leave the office, and then almost got hit by someone merging into your lane on your way back home.

upon pulling into the driveway of your apartment complex, you breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Bucky's red Ford F-150 parked amongst a sea of other vehicles. And while you're more than relieved to know you wont be having to wait for him to get home to detail the horrific events of your day, it also means that his giant ass truck took up the very last spot meaning that you're stuck in the teeny tiny garage you can almost never get out of.

Once parked, you immediately hit your head on the top of your car as you step out, falling back into your seat with a groan before grabbing your purse and making your way towards your apartment.

Light from the kitchen settles through the flowery curtains you'd picked out when the two of you first moved in. The amber light illuminating the pastel flowers and nimble green threaded vines.

The smell of lasagna pasta couldn't be more inviting as you made your way into the warmth of your home, slipping off your heels with one hand as the other struggled to shut the front door.

Busy with your shoes, you hadn't noticed Bucky making his way towards you until a warm hand pressed over your own, helping to push the door back.

Letting out a hitched squeal, you jumped slightly before bringing a hand to rest over your racing heart.

"Woah," Bucky stood still at your side as not to spook you further, slowly pulling both hands into the air shoulder width apart.

You turn your head up to look at him as you pull your other heel off.

He's sporting his red Henley that you love so dearly and he's ran his metal hand through his hair recently.

His eyes are wide and dark brows furrowed as he watches you lazily drop both heels onto the wooden floor.

"Hi."

"Hi...?" Bucky drops his hands down to his side, looking you up and down as you made your way through the entryway and into the kitchen, "Y'okay?"

Not having the energy to relax completely at the moment, you offer a weak hum. you're far too exhausted and honestly too pissed off from the events of the day to particularly get into why you've been more on edge as of late.

Bucky follows you into the kitchen but before you're able to make it any further you decide you should go put on your pajamas.

Turning around to head upstairs, you collide face first with his metal arm, and the both of you let out a sharp gasp.

Bucky's hands are instantly on you, cupping your cheeks and turning your head side to side as he looks you over as you nurse the tender spot of your temple.

"Jesus..." Bucky says under his breath, massaging the cool pad of his metal thumb in circles over the small bump, "Sorry, sweetheart," he chuckles lightly, "Didn't realize y'were turning around."

You don't say anything in response, closing your eyes to try and stop the onslaught of tears and wrecked emotions from the wretched events of the day.

irked by your silence, Bucky soothes his hand over your chin softly, "Hey," he coos, and you meet his eyes, "Y'okay?"

Something about the gentleness of Bucky's voice paired with the soft soothing motions of his hold on you sends you over the edge and before you're able to stop yourself, hot tears are running down your cheeks and strewing your thick lashes together.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky's eyes widen "What happened?"

You're too tired to speak, too exhausted to explain so you opt to snuggle yourself into his chest, muffling your sobs in the thick fabric of his Henley.

Bucky holds you there, running his hand up and down the fabric of your work clothes, keeping your head tucked to his chest with his metal hand.

After a moment, you start to feel overwhelmed by everything; the fabric of your work clothes is suddenly itchy against your skin and your feet hurt from your heels and your hair feels like its pulling on the nerves of your skull.

Pulling at the hem of your shirt and fidgeting in Bucky's hold, he seems to catch on quickly.

"Shhh, shhh," Bucky presses a kiss to the side of your head, pulling back to lean against the wall as he helps you pull your top off and unbutton your bottoms, "I gotcha'."

Left in your panties and socks, still wrapped in Bucky's thick arms, you mentally thank Bucky for shutting the blinds and curtains to the balcony before you got home.

Holding you there for another moment, he runs his hand up and down your back again before leaning down some to cup your cheeks in his hands again.

"Wanna go put on your pj's and I can get your dinner ready?"

you nod and he whispers a soft "M'kay," pressing a firm kiss to your hairline.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

After changing into your pajamas, that being one of Bucky's navy tops that hangs down to your knees with a pair of striped pajamas shorts, you made your way back downstairs to the kitchen.

Bucky meets you as you enter the kitchen, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and handing you your bowl of lasagna pasta. His right hand scratches at your lower back gently.

"Thankyou," you lean your head against his chest and he hums into your hair.

"Wanna tell me about your day?" He asks, leaning on his metal hand on the kitchen table, keeping his right hand on your lower back.

Swallowing a forkful of your pasta, you give a soft nod.

Bucky nods, "M'gonna go change," he makes his way past you towards the stairs.

With a soft sigh, you make your way into your living room to sit down on your tawny-colored couch.

You scroll through your phone, taking small bites of your pasta as you listen to Bucky rustle around in your shared bedroom.

When Bucky comes downstairs again, he makes his way into the kitchen and you can hear the clinking of Bucky's metal hand against the pot of lasagna pasta as he serves himself a bowl before he comes into the living room, taking a seat beside you on the couch.

He drops his hand to your thigh, gently massaging and squeezing the plush of your skin.

You pull your legs up onto the couch as Bucky turns the TV on, sifting through the streaming services before settling on one of your favorite tv shows.

As the two of you eat, he occasionally runs his hand over some part of your skin or presses a kiss to the side of your head. The softness of his actions settles you into a relaxed headspace as he takes your mind off the stress of the day.

Once the episode finishes, Bucky takes your bowl and places both yours and his own onto the table.

He pulls you into his lap by your arm, helping you settle both thighs over his own and placing your hands onto his broad shoulders.

"Tell me what happened," he speaks softly.

You're compelled to tell the frustrating events of your day as he soothes it out of you with gentle words and soft touches; everything about him far more kinder than whatever heavy cloud was that had been weighing over you.

Taking a shaky inhale as you steady yourself to relive the horribly bad day you'd had, Bucky's quick to shush you softly, whispering "S' okay," as you pull at the hem of his navy blue T-shirt.

"So... first it started with me tripping over one of your shoes while I was trying to get ready and then that made me late to work because I missed a light and then I was flustered from that for the rest of the day and realized I wasn't well-prepared enough for my work presentation. Then, I stumbled over my words during the presentation Infront of my boss and that made me even more flustered and after that I got nauseous because I realized that when I'd gone downstairs while getting ready and tripped over your shoe, I'd originally been downstairs to get my lunch but I forgot and then forgot to pack my lunch and that made me have a horrible headache throughout the rest of the day. And finally, when I was driving home, someone almost hit me while merging onto the highway."

You realize you're still playing with the hem of Bucky's shirt, having not looked up at him once during your rant.

Your eyes tilt upwards to meet his.

"So yeah, today was not fun."

"Doesn't sound fun." Bucky sighs, soothing his hand down the side of your thigh, "Sorry about my shoe by the way."

You nod, bringing your eyes down to his lap again.

"Just wanna forget about t'day. It sucked really bad."

"I can see that," Bucky chuckles lightly, earning a weak giggle form you. "Need some help forgetting about your bad day?" Bucky gives you a soft pout.

"Please?"

He hums and moves to stand up, helping you off his lap as he grabs both of your bowls of the table, "Go upstairs while I clean up."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

On your bed, you scroll through your phone as you listen to Bucky move about downstairs. Texting your friends and googling random things that come across your feed.

You're in the middle of looking at images of colorful sea slugs when Bucky makes his way into your bedroom.

Instantly, you're placing your phone onto the nightstand and sitting up onto your knees to meet him in a soft kiss at the foot of the bed. Towering over you, he keeps his hand on your neck, gently holding you still as he presses soft kisses to the corner of your mouth and down your jaw before placing a final one to the top of your head.

He can tell you're already antsy by the way you're eager to follow his lead, worked up from the day paired with the commanding tone of his voice as he maneuvers you to your hands and knees.

Bucky gently caresses the plush of your ass through the fabric of his top you're wearing, squeezing and smoothing over your skin.

You're impatient under him, whining when he slips his fingers down to run the pad of his cool thumb over the soaked fabric of your panties.

Bucky ignores you, continuing to gently press and circle your clit beneath the fabric, holding his right hand to your hip, keeping you steady.

He takes a seat beside you on the bed, not halting his movements as he switches between hands. He presses his metal hand to the dip of your back, forcing you to rest on your forearms, keeping your ass in the air.

"Good girl," He says warmly, pulling your panties to the side of your cunt before slipping his cool thumb past your soaked folds.

The cool intrusion forces a shiver up your spine and whimper softly into the skin of your forearm.

You readjust yourself on your knees and Bucky lets you, slowing his touch as you sway slightly before settling again.

Bucky continues to gently stroke his thumb over your clit as he pumps his finger into your cunt sweetly, lude noises echoing about your bedroom as your juices soak the metal of his wrist.

"Jesus," Bucky comments and you reach a hand between your thighs to hold at his forearm, pushing his fingers deeper into your heat with a broken whine, "I know, I know."

You almost jump when the scratchy hairs of his beard tickle the soft insides of your thighs, pulling a choked gasp from your wet lips.

His tongue is hot against your folds, licking hot and thick stripes up your cunt. He curls his tongue past your folds, sucking at your heat.

Bucky's metal hand holds you at your thigh, keeping you still as you try to push yourself back into him.

Reaching your hand between your thighs again, you slip your hand around his metal forefinger wrapped around your thigh, to which he drops his hand from your skin to weave your hot fingers with his cool ones.

"Buck...haaa," you coo, dropping your forehead to the hot skin of your forearm, "Feels good," you manage, nearly drooling onto the sheets below you.

Bucky hums into your cunt, nodding his head and bumping his nose against your folds, pulling another sob from your lips, "Mhm."

You blame your quick rise to your peak on the stress of the day as you untangle your hand from his and push him away by his forehead, panting as he takes ahold of your wrist, circling your pulse point.

"Y'okay?" his brows furrow and you fight the urge to teasingly trace the crevices of his face that they make.

You nod against your arm, eyes fluttering in content, "Just need a moment."

Bucky nods, smoothing his cool fingers over your hot and sticky thigh, "M'kay," he presses a kiss to your folds before slipping the top of your panties further to the side, and before you're able to cover yourself, he a presses a soft kiss to your puckered hole.

"James!" you squeal, immediately dropping your butt down and reaching back with both hands to cover yourself.

"What?" Bucky laughs, "S'not like I haven't seen it before," he adds, leaning down and biting the plush of your ass cheek teasingly.

You burrow your face into the sheets with a groan, kicking the tips of your feet under your butt.

Bucky grabs one of your toes through your sock, only letting go when you squeal and tuck yourself into a small ball.

Through a chuckle, Bucky stands up form the bed and pulls your hips up along with him, holding you still as he runs his fingers up and down your folds again, earning a weak mewl from you.

Leaning down, he presses a kiss to your lips and whispers, "Y'want some more?"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Got you some sheets,” you say as you enter the front room.  

Bucky pulls on the foldout frame and it catches, like it always does. It offers little resistance as he wrenches on it and unfurls with a metallic whine. The legs stamp on the floor and he stands straight. 

“Sorry, not tryna break the place,” he narrows his eyes at the stubborn piece of furniture. 

“Like I said, everything around here is old.” 

“So I fit right in, got it,” his brows flick. 

“Not exactly what I meant,” you set the stacks of sheets, a quilt, and a pillow on the mattress. “Need help?” 

“Think I can figure it out. You don’t do cot inspections, do you?” He asks. 

You hesitate before you realise he’s joking. 

“You got until 1900 hours to get that made up,” you try to kid back then immediately make a face. “You know what, ignore that. I’m gonna have a decaf. Need anything?” 

His cheek dimples and he shakes his head, “got more than enough.” 

He turns and moves the linens. You retreat quickly. You can’t believe you’re such a weirdo. You could blame the fact that you rarely have company and those people who do stop by are backwoods seniors, but he’s even older than them. In spirit, at least. 

You load the drip filter with decaf grinds and sit at the table as you wait. Your eyes skim the faded wallpaper. You remember when you were a kid and you’d come to visit Grandma. You’d sit and count the flowers as she baked a pie. It was the one place where you weren’t afraid. 

“Mind if I grab some water?” Bucky’s voice slices through the veil of nostalgia and you flinch. You sit up and cross your arms. 

“In the fridge,” you sniff and stand as the kettle starts to boil.  

You pour over the filter and wait for it to brew. Bucky opens a cupboard and takes out a glass. He’s quiet as he fills it and puts the jug back in the fridge. You stand at the counter awkwardly. 

“I’ll be right back,” you mutter and flee before he can answer. 

The adrenaline of his arrival has worn away. Your social battery is dying and you’re receding back into your usual introverted troll. You go down to the linen closet and take out a peachy towel, hand towel, and wash cloth. 

You come back down to the front room. He’s not there. You leave the armful on the bed. It’s neatly made; straight edges, not a wrinkle. You return to the kitchen and sniff as you fidget. 

“I left some towels on your bed, in case you need to wash up,” you toy with the zipper of your collar. “Tomorrow we can hit the grocery store in case you need anything. Soap or... whatever.” 

“Packed it. Got used to living out of a bag,” he assures you. 

“Fair,” you agree. 

You blow out through your lips and return to the counter. The mug is full. You dump the filter and rinse the pour-over lid. You put it in the rack and pick up the cup. You stare into the dark brew as if you might just dive in and hope to drown. 

“Hey, look,” he says, “don’t worry about keeping me up or nothing. I don’t really sleep so...” 

“Yeah,” you swallow. “I... I do my work here. That’s my desk,” you point to the table. “I got headphone though.” 

“Right, I can stay out of the way,” he shows a palm. “Kinda my whole thing. In and out without being seen.” 

You look at him. He’s right but the context is not so funny. The thought of what he’s done makes you little leery. 

“I’ll let you enjoy your coffee. Could stand to stretch out after the ride up.” 

He takes his glass and heads for the door, tapping the frame with his fingers before he passes through. It’s a bit reassuring that he’s just as awkward. You guess it will be like that until you get used to each other. You really hope Sam doesn’t leave him up here long enough for you to be used to each other. 

You pick up the mug and quietly shuffle out. You keep your eyes down the hallway as you go to your room. You close yourself in, careful not to shut the door too heavily, and go to your bed. You put the cup on the night stand and sigh. 

Sam is going to get an earful, once your signal comes in. He really just dropped this grown man on you like you’re some sort of boarding house. As much as he did for you, this seems like a little much. Well, he’s never been very good at knowing the limit. 

You get up and change into a loose pair of pajama pants and a cozy sleep shirt. The nights get colder as the season passes. Fall won’t stave off the frost much longer. 

Maybe that will drive him away. This country isn’t exactly famous for its hospitable weather. The scenery might be nice and some of the people, but there’s not much else. Not unless you enjoy the wildlife. The crows, the squirrels, the chipmunks, wild hares, and groundhogs. Then there’s the more deadly ones; coyotes, bears, and moose.  

You really don’t think Sam thought any of this out. After all, who wants to be in Canada. Especially someone like Bucky. Someone who’s been all around the world, who lived in one of liveliest cities on the planet. This bodunk town in the north is going to bore him right back to his own country.