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mrs-illyrian-baby · 2 months

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5 Times There Was Only One Bed (and the one time there were two beds) | Bucky x Reader | One Shot - 4.7k

Whether it's on a mission, a work event or a holiday, your sleeping arrangements never seem to work out as planned. It doesn't really bother you until...it does. Confronted with a night sleeping apart, you and Bucky finally talk.

Warnings: 18+ for language, suggestive situations and sexism (but not from our Bucky he would never). Also rated F for fluffy and S for snuggling.

Written for the @bucks-and-noble Valentrope event - "there was only on bed" the reigning champion of tropes!

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Fics

Your first mission with Bucky Barnes went really well, until it didn’t.

After successfully destroying an underground Hydra base you’d returned to your transport in a less than desirable state.

“Fuck, four flats.” You huffed, poking the tyre with the toe of your tactical boot.

“Fuel line’s been cut.” Bucky muttered from the front, “lucky they didn’t torch it.”

Bucky quietly rubbed a gloved hand over his face, before looking up at the admittedly stunning night sky, he seemed to study it for a moment before making a quarter turn to his left and climbing up a ridge of sandy rock. As if dazed you followed him. You could see for miles thanks to the glow of a full moon, the stars dense and glittering above you both. It was almost romantic, if you didn’t have blood on your cheek and an empty gun on your hip.

Bucky still looked like he could sweep you off your feet though, with his structured tactical vest making his broad shoulders look even wider, his wind swept hair giving him the look of a romantic hero on the front of a paperback, especially with one foot perched on the outcrop of rock above you.

“Let’s go.” He pointed towards a glow rising from beyond the horizon and you’d started walking, doing your best to keep up with his long strides. You could see the motel, how far could it really be.

As soon as you climbed down the motel vanished and the reality of your trek set in.

Around hour two Bucky slowed his pace to allow you to catch up. He didn’t speak much, just what was necessary, and sometimes a hello when he saw you around the compound. But he struck you as shy, rather than cruel or rude. He had checked on you after the mission brief two days ago to make sure you were happy with the plans and, when you were left at the drop off zone, had given you a few of his spare rounds.

You were starting to flag, your steps faltering in the dust and your fingers frozen. Without the sun the desert was so cold the tips of your ears felt like they’d fallen off. Bucky slowed too, cracking a heat pack and handing it over, swapping it for your pack.

“Thank you,” you whispered, teeth chattering.

He didn’t say anything, just gave you a tight smile and turned back towards the motel, growing closer with each step.

Three hours after you’d discovered the flat tyre, you fell through the door of the dingy motel room, exhausted, cold and starving, only to be met with the sight of one queen size bed and a single chair by the window.

“I’m gonna sleep,” you slurred, unable to manage more than zipping off your tactical vest. You fell onto your back and tried to toe off your boots but they were too tight. Your eyes slid shut and you felt the sensation of Bucky sitting on the other side of the thin mattress, making you roll towards him slightly. His weight shifted and settled, the warmth of his body behind yours comforting after everything you’d seen that evening.

He smelt nice too, despite the blood and sweat and gunpowder, he smelt like sandalwood and the desert air. It was all you could think of as you drifted into a deep sleep, how much you wanted to press your face into his back and breathe him in.

The next morning you woke to find Bucky already showered and dressed, pushing his damp hair back from his face and brushing his teeth while he called Torres for new exit plans.

Your boots and socks were off, arranged neatly by the door, a coffee steaming on the bedside table.

Despite all the changes a new team had brought, Bucky liked working with you. You were quiet too and didn’t mind when he was silent for almost a whole mission. You were efficient and skilled, but empathetic, always stopping during the fall out to ensure the team were together and protecting civilians whenever you could.

So it was no surprise to him when you offered to share the bed at the hotel. Sam and Joaquín had long since retired to their room, but you’d both stayed at the hotel bar, silently emptying a bottle of red wine while Bucky continued his 100 Books to Read Before You Die list and you scrolled through your phone, catching up on everything you’d missed during the five day - “phone’s off, and yes, I mean you Agent” - mission.

As soon as you retired to the room you knew there’d been a mistake.

“Ah, shit.” You’d dropped your bag to the floor by the door and Bucky had almost walked into your back, peering over your shoulder at the very neatly made double bed. The only bed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take the couch.” Bucky had sighed, resigned to a night of lumpy, uncomfortable sleep.

“There isn’t one.” You pushed your bag further into the room with your foot and Bucky brushed past to survey the space.

“The floor then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, the bed’s big enough for two, we can share.”

You’d said it with such easy grace that he’d felt almost insulted that his chivalrous offer was so easily deflected. Then you’d returned from the bathroom smelling like mint and almond oil, your loose pyjamas hanging off one shoulder and just like that, he gave in.

By the time he’d change and brushed his teeth you were already asleep, holding a pillow close to your chest with your leg well over onto his side of the bed. Carefully he moved you back to your side and slid under the cool sheet next to you.

He woke first the next morning to find you still attempting to occupy the majority of the bed, your face relaxed and mouth slightly open. Bucky indulged in a moment of quiet comfort before getting up. You wouldn’t want him staring at you, you’d be embarrassed that you were trying to cuddle him and it’d ruin the fragile bond you were forming with each mission.

By 9am you were both making fun of Joaquín’s terrible hotel bookings over pancakes and coffee.

“Why can’t we just ask for directions?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yes?”

“Because we just crossed a border illegally, we have no papers, no passports, we’re lying low.”

“They’re hardly going to ask to see our passports, Bucky.” You sighed, hitching your bag higher on your back.

You’d been walking since 5am that morning, crossing through a forest trail to avoid borders and rendezvous with Torres in a village that should have been a few miles away so that you could evac together.

5am seemed a long time ago now that the sun was setting. You’d stopped briefly to heat up a can of beans, a “late lunch, early dinner” Bucky had called it, smiling at you over the steaming mess tin you were sharing.

The scalding heat had dissipated now though and you were tired. The memory of his hand touching yours as you ate still lingering.

“We’re not going to find him tonight, we should stop.” Bucky suggested, “I’ll find a good place to camp.”

Suddenly you were grateful that Mr Overprepared had packed a tent.

“Good idea.” You agreed, rubbing your hands together.

“Well, I will be, you didn’t bring a tent, did you?” He said, walking deeper into the woods, running his foot over the ground, looking for somewhere flat.

Your heart sank, he was right, you’d laughed at him when he’d attached it to his already full pack and he’d said you’d regret it, a teasing look in his eye. Well. You were regretting it. It had started raining a few minutes before, gentle rain drops that got heavy in each gap between the canopy. You had no doubt it’d be heavier soon though, and with the sun setting you didn’t relish the idea of being wet and cold out in the dark.

Bucky stopped and turned, lowering his pack to the floor between two large trunked trees and those twinkling eyes made butterflies take flight in the pit of your stomach. A boyish grin crossed his face as he got to work.

Ten minutes later and the tent was up, strung between the trees and extra protected with some fallen foliage.

Bucky unlaced his boots and placed them between the inner and outer tent before climbing in, when you didn’t follow he poked his head back around the flap of the tent, patting the unrolled sleeping bag next to him.

“C’mon, you really think I’d make you sleep out there?” He was almost laughing, and the sound was so welcome, so stupidly content despite your situation, you could barely stand it.

You squeezed in, using the inner fleece layer from your coat as a blanket. Bucky lifted the side of his sleeping bag.

“C’mon,” he mumbled, eyes already closed, when you hesitated he tugged you closer until you were tucked against his chest. He rearranged your coats on top of you both until you could feel your fingers again. “Warmer?”

“Yeah, thanks, Bucky.”

He didn’t respond, his breathing heavy and even, beneath his sweater you could hear the steady thump of his heart as it lulled you to sleep in his arms.

Bucky hated these stupid events, he’d only been persuaded to come because you’d done those big round puppy dog eyes and said it’d be no fun without him. Joaquín had asked too and, although Sam had joked that it’d be more fun without ‘Mr Grumpy’, Bucky knew he’d only been teasing.

But it was you that had convinced him. It was those eyes, the way your voice had gone up a little and you’d pouted in that silly way you did when Joaquín took the last doughnut at mission briefings. He couldn’t resist. And he had no idea what to do about it.

Behind him he could hear another team talking about you, how they didn't understand why you were always working with ‘that asshole Barnes’ so much.

In the anonymous dark they joked about you, about him, as if you were a reward for a guard dog. A babysitter for his more violent tendencies. Worse, disgusting, accusations about how you'd come by your place in the team. He suddenly missed his mother, she'd have washed their mouths out with soap.

He felt sick.

Bucky took a long swig from his beer and chased it with a shot of whisky, anything to stop his teeth from grinding.

They were wrong on so many counts. You were skilled and fearless, soft and fierce at all the right moments. But you didn't care about him, or Sam or Joaquín for that matter. Not in the vile, disrespectful way those men imagined. You didn’t men like them - him - messy, unpredictable, unstable. You didn’t really need anyone.

But Bucky - he took another swig, trying to stop the swirling feeling in his chest - he cared for you. He couldn't stop thinking about you. And as angry as he was at what he heard, he was equally ashamed for wishing that you did want him.

He’d been watching you dance with Joaquín and one of your other agent friends for more than an hour now. Your body swaying and rippling in time to the music, your dress ghosting over your hips in a way that made his mouth dry. It was one thing to work with you in army fatigues or go to meetings with you in your casual jeans - the stealth suit had been really pushing his patience recently so he didn't want to think about it - but he could at least keep himself under control while your skin was covered. Then you arrived wearing this dress. The neckline alone made him want to sink to his knees in front of you.

Joaquín danced away with your friend, you winked at the lieutenant and smacked his ass as he passed - you were definitely drunk.

Alone you swayed to the music, still in your own world.

“She’s so fucking drunk -”

“Absolute embarrassment -”

“Can’t believe they let her in -”

Bucky slammed his drink down on the bar top and grabbed his leather jacket, stalking across the dancefloor like a shadow, the lights skimming over him.

You were facing away from him and he couldn’t resist, his hands finding your waist so naturally, his body melting into yours, matching the slow roll of your hips so he could lean into your ear.

“I think it’s time to go,” he whisper-shouted above the pounding music.

“Bucky!” You exclaimed, completely ignoring his suggestion, “dance with me!”

You span in his hands, leaning up and into him, your hands around his neck, twisting into his hair. The little tug you gave sent pleasure shooting down his spine. God he was weak, his body moved without his say so, slipping a leg between yours and - fuck - you were grinding against him. He was lost.

The song ended, fading into the next as the lights flickered and he regained enough of his faculties to remember you were drunk, very drunk.

“C’mon, doll, let’s go, I’ll get you some water-”

“You still here, sweetheart? Don’t you think you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.”

Was he still here? Fucking asshole.

Bucky rounded on him, keeping you close with a hand around your waist.

“You boys having a good night?” You grinned, unable to hear their cruel words over the music.

You were just so - good, so kind, even when these pricks were trying to tear you down, your first instinct was to be friendly - he couldn’t stand it.

“I said -” the agent grinned, dipping down, placing his hands on his knees and levelling his face with yours, that patronising glint in his eyes, “are you still fucking here you stupid bitch?”

Bucky saw red, tucking you under his left arm, pushing you behind his back as he had so many times during missions, and smashing his right straight into the agent’s nose.

“Didn’t your Ma teach you to speak to ladies with respect?”

Blood dripped onto the dark dance floor, a circle forming as the other party goers backed away.

Bucky gave the man one last disapproving look and then his attention was solely focussed on you, leading you out past the crowd until you were outside in the freezing air. He draped his jacket around your shoulders and watched as you snuggled inside. Was he dreaming or did you inhale deeply when he did it?

“M’sorry, Buck.” You hiccupped, leaning into him, eyes half shut.

He took your weight gladly, “s’okay, you didn’t do anything wrong, it was those idiots in there.” With staggering steps you made it to the next street over and Bucky said nothing as he unlocked the door.

“Where are we?” You slurred, your ankles twisting in your heels with each step.

“My place, I thought you could sober up here while I call you a cab to get you back to your hotel.”

He settled you on the couch and tried to walk away, but there was a hand hooked in his belt loop.

“F’got you live in Neewww York,” you closed your eyes, resting your head against his hip as you continued to mumble about ‘the big apple’, he willed himself to breath deeply, he was struggling to keep his body under control.

“Yeah - what’s your hotel called?”

“You called me ‘doll’,” you giggled, your fingers closing around his belt.

“I did, sorry, it just slipped out. Your hotel?”

“Dun worry, I liked it - can I stay here? I sleep here.” You let go, only to curl up on the sofa, your dress sliding up your thighs.

“Sure.” He sighed.

Bucky scooped you up again and nudged the door to his bedroom open with his hip, the duvet was still rumpled from the night before. Another night of no sleep, at least it was because of you and not another nightmare. And now you were here, nose pressed into his chest, ready to sleep in his bed.

“Okay, I’ll be out here if you need me, g’night.”

“Stay.”

“I’ll be right outside if you need-”

“Stay.”

And it was those puppy dog eyes again, the pout, the voice, the hand on his belt.

Even though he knew you’d sleep like a log, hogging his duvet and encroaching on his space, even though he knew you’d be embarrassed in the morning, probably hungover as hell. Even though, come the morning, he was right. He still had the best nights sleep he’d ever had since he bought the place.

You hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time, you were sure if you stood up you’d simply melt into a puddle. Sun warm skin, the buzz of a few too many afternoon beers in your system and the sound of laughter as Sam, Joaquín and Bucky continued to try and catch a single fish had lulled you into a half sleep, dozing on the deck of the Paul & Darlene

“Hey, you want another beer, doll?”

Bucky’s voice drifted over to you and you cracked one eye open. He’d unbuttoned his shirt half way down his chest, the white cotton sticking to his sweaty, sunkissed skin. He hadn’t been able to drop the nickname since he'd had to rescue you at the gala. Although you'd done your best to keep yourself away. The way his eyes burned into you when he turned your way, the memory of his body imprinted into yours, his leg pressing against you, the shadow of a hardness that made your mouth water.

He'd been the perfect gentleman, of course. Had made sure you were safe and comfortable, even escorted you back to your hotel in the morning after a huge home cooked breakfast.

He was a gent. And you were an embarrassment. It ate away at you until you couldn't even look at him.

“Hmm?”

“Beer?” He asked again, holding out the bottle, the cap already popped off.

“Uh, yeah, thanks.”

He flopped down beside you on the deck, the last of the day fading beyond the horizon and leaving you bobbing in the inky abyss where the sky met the water.

“You feeling okay?” He took a swig and you watched the condensation on the bottle trickle over his fingers.

“Oh, yeah, fine.”

“You look dazed, that's all, don't want you getting sunstroke on us.”

Bucky looked genuinely concerned and you figured, from the sudden sick feeling inside, that maybe your heart had skipped a few beats or flipped over or something.

“Uh -” Fuck, did he have to leave his shirt open like that? He asked a question, what was it?

“Are you okay?” He used the back of his right hand and placed it against your forehead, “you feel really hot. Maybe you do have sun stroke.”

“I’m fine, honestly.” You shrugged him off, but went looking for a bottle of water anyway.

As the boat made its way back to the dock you watched the lights of Sarah’s house flicker on in the distance. Sam had invited the three of you to stay, taking up all of Sarah’s space and the room on the boat, while her and the boys went into the city for the night. It was a generous offer, one that you couldn’t say no to after months of hard work without a break.

In the pitch dark you all stumbled back up the driveway, only to find Sarah on the porch.

“Sarah -” Sam jogged to reach her first, concern written on his brow.

“I’m alright, Sam, don’t fuss. It’s just Cass, ate too many beignets and threw up so I thought we should come home. He’s upstairs with AJ. Sorry we messed up your plans.”

Bucky took the suitcase from her hands, “it’s your home Sarah, you haven’t messed up anything.”

She threw an arm around his shoulders and hugged him sideways, a familiar gesture you’d seen her make before, but for some reason your tummy twisted, jealousy stirring.

“Means we’ll need some rooms back though, I know I said you could all stay but-”

A chorus of voices filled the air, refusing to let Sarah apologise, before you started to get organised.

“Well Cass needs his own bed, that’s a given.” You said, worried that the young boy might be ill as well as over excited about his food.

“Of course,” Joaquín agreed. “Sarah, you’re obviously taking your room too. We wouldn’t ask you to give that up. I’ll go on the couch in the sitting room.” He smiled.

You looked between your other two colleagues, but Bucky spoke first.

“Well if Torres’ taking the couch I’m not going to argue, I’d rather be in a bed even if it is on a boat.” He ruffled Joaquín’s hair affectionately and the younger man shoved at him.

Sam looked at you, “you can take my bed, if you want, I can change the sheets -”

“I’ll sleep on other sofa -”

“You’ll share with me, right doll?”

The three of you spoke at once, and Sarah raised her eyebrows then her hands before opening the front door, “I’ll be in bed, you kids figure this out yourself.”

“Bucky -” Sam started.

“Sam - we’ve shared before,” there was a glimmer of hope that glowed inside of you when Bucky stepped closer, his shirt fluttering open again in the breeze, revealing his toned chest and that dusting of dark hair, creeping under the buckle of his jeans. “Besides, wouldn’t be the first time you’ve made us share, would it?” Bucky joked, nudging Sam as they went to collect more blankets and bedding, “what about that hotel-”

His voice faded until all you could hear were the crickets in the distance, you’d forgotten about Joaquín until he walked past, turning backwards at the last moment so he could see you again, “if you don’t want to share with Barnes…” he let the offer hang in the air and you were torn.

Really, you should protest and ask for your own space. But then you’d missed the sound of his steady breathing beside you, the weight and warmth of him when he turned over into your space. In fact you’d missed him completely, even if you’d been avoiding him on purpose.

Secretly you hoped the bedroom on the boat would be cooler now the sun had gone down, perhaps he’d hold you like he did while you were camping.

Sam let you back onto the boat, making sure you had enough blankets for two distinct sleeping arrangements if you wanted.

Bucky slid into the cool cotton sheets in only his boxers and, shyly, you followed. Expecting to sleep alone you’d packed shorts and a vest, revealing more than you really wanted to considering he clearly didn’t return your interest.

Bucky kept politely to his side of the bed, his arms awkwardly stiff at his side when he turned away from you. Unable to stop yourself you turned too, watching the strong line of his back relax as his breathing evened out.

The boat bobbed gently, lulling you to sleep. You were vaguely aware of a strong arm tugging you closer, the smell of Bucky’s shampoo and sun cream and the weight of a bed rising to meet you.

Everything went perfectly, again, until it didn’t.

Intelligence? Secured. Exit? Executed to perfection. Adrenaline fueled burger stop where Bucky wiped a drop of sauce from your lips exactly as you planned? Complete. Motel booking? Perfect?

You and Bucky stared at the two motel beds.

In the entire time you’d been working together you’d never really managed it. There were either no rooms, the room was wrong or there was no room at all, just whatever you could find. And now there were two beds and you felt sick and your head hurt and after everything you’d seen and done today the last thing you wanted to do was sleep alone.

“Doll?” Bucky placed a hand on the small of your back and reality came screeching to a halt around you.

“Sorry, Buck, I must be really tired, I’m going to shower and get in bed. Do you mind if I go first?” You were already half to the bathroom, the zip down on your tac suit, were you imagining Bucky’s eyes dropping down to where your skin was revealed?

“Of course, whatever you need, I’ll just be…here,”

After a perfunctory shower consisting of a dribble of hot water that quickly turned into a freezing cold torrent, you returned to the shared room.

Bucky hurried past, his body brushing against yours in the doorway, firm and muscular, yet you knew that being held by him was soft and warm. You tried not to feel too sad that there’d be no excuse for getting close to him again for the rest of your trip.

By the time he was finished you were tucked into bed, trying to read the paperback you’d found in the draw because the television signal was terrible.

He stood in the window, a shadow against the light filtering in through the thin material of the curtains, ruffling his wet hair with a towel, his sweatpants so at odds with the man who’d been by your side just a few hours before. This was a rare sight, one you were privileged to see.

Bucky tossed the towel onto the chair by the door and then sat on the end of the other bed, watching you read from the corner of his eye. You knew because the last three paragraphs had become a blur of words, your focus solely on Bucky.

“Maybe we should go to sleep, we’ve got a long drive tomorrow.”

“You’re right.”

You both slid down into bed, separately, and you’d never felt so alone.

In the darkness you could see the shape of him, facing the door with his hand tucked under his pillow, and somehow the darkness made you braver.

“Would it be weird if I said I missed you?” You whispered.

Bucky rolled over, but put his hand back under his pillow, no doubt he had something hidden under there, he usually did.

“I miss you too.”

You shuffled back, letting the sheets fall further down the bed, “I know you have your own space over there and you probably don’t want to be all cramped up with me, but if you wanted to share still -”

Bucky was out of his bed before you could finish, slipping under the sheets. He’d taken off his sweatpants before getting into bed, his legs bed warm against your own and you bit your lip, trying to focus on his face and not on his almost naked body just inches away.

“Hi.”

“Hi, doll.”

“You don’t have to keep calling me that.”

“What if I want to?”

He was so close, his breath minty when it ghosted over your lips, his nose touching yours, his long eyelashes making his crystal eyes look brighter.

“What if I missed you being in my bed? What if I always want to share with you?” He reached his hand out, cupping your cheek.

“You do?”

And then his lips were on yours, so soft, his tongue slipping past yours as you gasped. One cool metal hand and one callused, drawing you closer, a leg between your thighs, your bodies rolling together and - “oh, Bucky.” You sighed into his mouth, letting him tug you into him.

“I - I want that too -” you squeezed out between kisses, “I wanna always - always - be in your bed - I - I always hoped we had too.”

“You did?” He pulled back, stroking a thumb down your cheek and over your kiss bitten lips.

“Uh huh, I did,”

“You been sabotaging us this whole time, baby?” He laughed, his eyes sparkling.

“No,” you laughed too, turning your head to kiss the pad of his thumb, “maybe I should’ve though.”

“Maybe,” his hand left your face to cup the back of your neck, drawing you down for another languid kiss.

“How long?”

“How long, what?”

“How long have you wanted -” his question trailed off into another series of featherlight kisses.

“Since, ugh - Utah?” You offered shyly, embarrassed to admit that you’d been head over heels from the start.

With a groan he rolled you over, slipping his body between your open legs, his hips settling just right against your own. “Fuck,” he dropped his forehead to yours, “we could’ve been doing this the whole time.” He admitted, lifting his head to smile down at you.

“Well then I guess we have some making up to do,” you linked your hands behind his head, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I guess we do, doll.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes/reader #Bucky Barnes x female!Reader #Bucky Barnes/female reader #bucky x female reader #Bucky fluff #bucky

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jen-with-a-pen · 2 months

Text

𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦

summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

word count: 6.5K

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.

If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is.

Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter– to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day.

You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.

When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.

Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.

After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.

You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week.

With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.

Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together.

Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”

The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival.

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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’

“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door.

“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.

You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.

Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger.

“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.

It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder.

The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit.

“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.

“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip.

Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing.

“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.

You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.

“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.

Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.

“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”

“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink.

Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it.

You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time.

You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell.

Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.

The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.

“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear.

“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”

White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.

He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.

“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.

His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.

You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below.

With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.

“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost.

“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape.

“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”

He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully.

“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.

“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.

“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”

He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.

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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium.

There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form.

Your face burned.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?”

You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.”

He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.

♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.

You swallowed a groan.

“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”

“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”

“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”

Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours.

“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.”

You wanted to take his finger and break it.

You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.

You doubted it was convincing.

“Fine.”

He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion.

When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.

“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”

“When the hell did you–”

“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.

“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance.

He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.

The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles.

“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.

Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.

It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike.

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The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”

“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own.

Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–

“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously.

“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side.

“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.

“Because there’s only one fucking bed?”

“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.

You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”

His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward.

You swallowed. “You heard me.”

One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard.

Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body.

“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.

“Look at me!”

“No! Fuck– Get off me!”

With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.

You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.

“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.”

His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”

You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone.

“Is that all, Sergeant?”

His Adam's apple bobbed.

“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.

“You heard me.”

The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged.

“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.

“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”

Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.

“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you.

And you let him.

“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.

“Holy–fuck, holy shit.”

Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why.

He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame.

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your heart stopped.

“You’re telling me.”

Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door.

Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy.

Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.

Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however.

He looked at you. Really looked at you. ��You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?”

You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”

“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.

“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release.

“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.

“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”

He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”

“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”

“Number fuckin’ one.”

The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core.

Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.

“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.

He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs.

“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass.

SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”

SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”

SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.”

Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him.

“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”

You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure.

“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you.

“Fuck! Again! Please, again!”

He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you.

“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode.

“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”

“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.

For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile.

“Thanks.”

He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”

You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”

“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.

“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”

“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.

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queers-gambit · 1 month

Text

Adore Her, Dior Her

prompt: ( requested ) what good is having all that money if he can't spend it on the woman he loves?

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 4.3k+

warnings: author foams at the mouth for Mafia AUs, overwhelming fluff, cursing, not edited.

"That's the one. That's one we should get!"

"You've said that about the past three dresses, Buck!" You groaned, smoothing your hands over the skirt. "We need to narrow this down, okay? The wedding's in a month!"

"Why did we even agree to go?"

You glared, "'Cause we love my brother and we're supporting him."

"But she's just so - "

"Jen. Her name's Jen."

Bucky nodded, leaning back on the cushioned chair, "Well, Jen's just wrong for him. Literally the definition of toxic."

"Does it count if they're toxic together? To each other?" You sighed, standing on the pedestal and turning to look in the three mirrors beside the dressing room.

"Of course it does," he stood, buttoning his suit jacket out of habit. He approached you, head cocking as he looked your body up and down to get the full view of the gown you tried on. "You're really okay letting him marry her? Turn this way a bit, baby, lemme see the front."

You scoffed, but took his offered hand and twisted on the small platform towards him, "You were there at Christmas, he doesn't listen to reason. So, if Daniel's convinced Jen's for him, as his sister, my only job is be supportive."

"They literally abuse each other," he pointed out.

"Well, he's not changing his mind. Okay? It's been three years, he won't budge, whenever someone brings up them breaking up, he goes into hiding - so, I don't know what else I can do," your hands slapped your thighs when you shrugged, "except just be there for him. Now, focus, please, help me narrow a dress down."

He shook his head as you turned to face the mirrors again, "Actually, you know what? I don't think anything in this store is for us."

The attendant perked up and scurried over, rushing, "Oh, well, we have a much larger selection in the back, Mr. Barnes - "

"That won't be necessary, Barbra, thank you, though," he nodded. "Doll," his hand planted on your waist, head over your shoulder as you still looked yourself over in the mirrors, "go get changed, I know where we need to go."

"Bucky, no, there's plenty of options here," you argued, twisting on the wee little pedestal to face him again. "We don't need to drop a stack on a dress - "

"You let me worry about the price tag," he smirked, leaning in to peck your cheek. "Just go change, pretty girl, c'mon. Step-to!"

You offered Barbra, the attendant, an apologetic smile as you shuffled back into the changing room; quickly stripping from the dress. When you exited in your street clothes, Bucky was tipping the aged woman for her effort in gathering your options, but the moment he saw you, his hand was extending to hold yours tightly.

"What was wrong with that store?" You asked when you stepped onto the noisy and busy street to approach the sleek, tinted car Bucky drove for day-to-day errands.

"We're not shopping at David's fucking Bridal."

"You literally drove us here," you laughed.

"Yeah, and then I had a much better idea," he smirked at you, unlocking the car and opening your passenger door. "C'mon, princess, just gotta trust me."

"Last time you said that - "

"That wasn't my fault," he groaned, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment. When you opened your mouth to retort, he rushed, "Aht, nope, don't say shit. C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere special so get that pretty ass in the car."

He grinned when you laughed and did as bid, feet safely inside when he closed the door after you were settled. Bucky easily jogged around the back of his car, New York busy this time of year as traffic flew past on the street and forced Buck slow. He dropped into the driver's seat, sniffling slightly.

"Reminds me," Bucky smirked as he pulled onto the street, "how would you feel about us going to Aspen this winter?"

You sighed, "Why?"

"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"

"Well, yeah! It's so magical."

"Okay, so, we can go over New Years?"

You sighed, "You know, we don't have to go anywhere..."

"Sweetheart," he cleared his throat, "I actually have some business in Aspen, this will just help determine when I schedule the meetings for."

"Oh," you nodded slowly.

He sighed, "I know my job isn't orthodox, but business is business, right, sugar?”

"No, yeah, yeah, I get it. It sounds kinda nice, maybe we can go skiing."

"You know how to ski?"

"No, but I'm sure someone in Aspen could help teach me."

Bucky grinned. The drive was full of easy conversation, neither you nor Bucky dwelling on his business dealings, always feeling as if it was taboo given his station in the Mafia. So when he pulled up in front of a designer store, you gawked. "Now, if we can't find something here - "

"Um, absolutely not," you laughed. "Bucky, I can't even afford to walk into a place like that!"

"Good thing I'm paying," he smirked. He assisted you out of the car, tossing his keys to one of his security guards who had been following in a separate, tinted vehicle. When you both entered the dimly lit store, you were blown away by the gorgeous minimalist design; warm lighting, open floor space, and racks of different clothing options.

"Ah, Mr. Barnes! Hello, hello, hello!" A new attendant greeted with more enthusiasm than you would've greeted any of your clients, approaching you two. She shook your boyfriend's hand vigorously, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, "Looking for a dress to wear to a wedding."

She offered you a forced smile, telling your boyfriend swiftly with her teeth on full display, "You came to the right spot!"

"See?" Bucky smirked at you. "All right, Valeria, what's first?"

Valeria waved you both onward to a private changing room, offering complimentary sparkling waters, coffees, teas - even offering to go retrieve anything you two would want from the Starbucks down the block. Valeria took your measurements and dress size, making idle chit-chat with Bucky and making it obvious he was a regular in the store, then scurrying off to collect an armful of options.

"This is - wow," you nodded in impression, petting the material of the display dresses hung along the wall.

"Like it?"

"It's growing on me," you eased with a small shrug, hearing Bucky chuckle and for his phone to chime. You perused the place as he became glued to the little device, sat in front of the dressing rooms.

Valeria returned with another attendant carrying coffees. "Right this way, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria directed you into a changing room, missing the giddy look you sent Bucky over your shoulder at being called his wife. "All right, so," she sighed, hanging up the dresses she selected, "I think these are modest enough for a wedding, but still glamorous to turn a few heads."

You hummed, "They're kinda short, don't know if that's the energy I want to be giving off at my brother's wedding."

"They'll fit differently once on but we can always accommodate," she assured, pulling one from the hanger. "Here we go," she assisted you, zipping you in and looking you over. "Oh, it's just darling on you! Look at that, not a single hair outta place, right?"

You giggled lightly, "It's certainly pretty."

"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"

You nodded, following her out to reveal Bucky sitting on a plush loveseat, sipping his coffee. His eyes widened when he saw you, nodding, "Oh, yeah. This is what I'm talking about."

"Hush, we're only buying one."

His eyes rolled, "I'll buy the whole damn store if I want."

"You don't own it already? Hm," you teased, perking your brows.

"Keep sayin' shit, I'll cut a check right now - "

"Bucky," you tisked, moving to the runway mirrors. "It's a little tight, isn't it?"

"It's snug," Valeria agreed. "Is there a color scheme for the wedding?"

"Um," you paused, "I'm not sure - I just know it's in winter, like, in a month."

"Maybe a pretty powder blue?" She looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Or how about a pale green? Like an olive tone?"

"She looks gorgeous in anything," Bucky smirked from behind you, taking another pull of his coffee.

"What about that brown number?" You asked, ignoring the way his compliments made you feel like the only girl he's ever seen in the world.

"You have a very good eye, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria nodded. She asked her coworker to go find your size, taking you back into the dressing room. You narrowed down the options without changing again, not wanting anything black or dark since it was a wedding and not a funeral. Though, you knew Bucky would disagree.

You showed your boyfriend a pretty little green dress, but he shook his head. "I thought the black was nice," he told you.

"I'm not wearing black to a wedding," you laughed lightly. "It screams bad luck to me, don't you think?"

"Think it's more of a statement, sayin' the entire event is a sham and they shouldn't be doing this," Bucky snickered, the other attendant, Laura, returning with a pretty brown dress. "That satin?" He asked, rubbing the material when it was presented to you both.

"It's very fashionable now," Laura nodded, "and it's not too dark."

"Since when is it a rule to not wear dark colors to a wedding? I miss the memo?" Buck leaned back to his seat.

All three women offered him a small look, you chuckling under your breath before Valeria was leading you back into the changing room. "If I may, Mrs?" She spoke softly, "I've known Mr. Barnes for a number of years but he's never brought anyone into the store. Then, one day, he tells me he needs a new suit because the 'girl of his dreams' had agreed to a date, and every time since then?" She smiled softly at you, "He's sang your praises. I'm very honored you're trusting me with helping you today."

"Oh," you blinked in shock, giggling nervously, "well, thank you very much, Valeria, now I know why his suits are always top of the line." She waved you off, making you add, "And for the record, I'm not Mrs. Barnes, guess that'd be his mother, wouldn't it?"

"Oh," her eyes widened, gasping softly, "oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I just - he talks so highly about you - "

"No, it's okay, it's okay," you rushed, patting her arm. "I actually kind of like it..."

She hummed, zipping you into another dress, "You know, he's the reason my girl and I are together."

"Really? How'd that happen?"

Valeria chuckled, "He's very bold, your man. We were getting coffee one day, discussing his wardrobe for a business trip he had in Hong Kong, when my lady walked in. I went all silly and stupid, and Mr. Barnes just," she shook her head with a fond smile, "brazenly asked her out for me, in front of the whole shop."

"Oh, Jesus, yeah - sounds like him."

"Well, luckily, it worked, else I don't think he would've come back for my assistance. I was so embarrassed, you have no idea, but my lady - Charlie - thought it was charming and cute. Mr. Barnes hasn't let me live it down since. Says he demands an invite to the wedding." She met your eyes through the mirror, offering, "And I'd be really happy to give him a plus one, hmm?"

"You're so sweet," you whispered, turning to survey the dress. You spent the better part of three hours there, trying on dress after dress, nitpicking almost everything as you just weren't sure what to wear. Bucky wasn't much help, he just approved everything.

So, it was up to Valeria and Laura to help you; bringing out iPads and design books, trying to piece something together that best fit your comfort and the vibe of the wedding. You didn't want to look like a walking money bag since your family wasn't by any means wealthy, thinking it would be a slap to their faces since your boyfriend could spend his money without ever thinking about it. You didn't want to give your family any reason to talk behind your back.

"I like the brown satin," Laura offered softly, looking you over in the mirror. "But the blue is just wow, it really looks like it was made for you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but I think the green compliments her eyes more," Valeria cocked her head in thought. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"

"Up," you answered, trying to mimic the look by pulling your locks off your shoulders, "with thin jewelry, I think."

"Diamonds?"

"Pearls, if I can find a dress that looks nice with it," you smiled, seeing Bucky's reflection in the mirror watching you with a soft smile on his face; head titled in thought before his phone chimed again and warranted his attention. "Maybe we could try the pink dress?" You looked to the two women for an opinion.

"No," Valeria shook her head, "it washes you out. And pink in winter? Oh, sweetie, I'd lose my job if I let you leave here with that. Guess that means you'll have to come back in the spring, right?"

You grinned in response as Laura chimed in, "The green's actually really nice, but the brown looks much better with your body type." Then she turned to Bucky, prompting, "Mr. Barnes? Final decision - which dress?"

Bucky paused, musing, "Lemme see them all again, get one last taste. It's between the green and brown numbers?"

"Or the blue," Valeria nodded. "C'mon, sweetie," she offered her hand to help you off the wee runway you were perched on in front of the magnificent mirrors.

"You look sensational in them all, doll, how the hell am I supposed to choose just one?" Bucky teased, his canines on display from the broad grin that stretched his lips.

"You'll find a way," you answered.

"Awh, telling me Mr. Big-Tough-Manly-Business-Man who makes impossible decisions everyday can't choose a simple piece of fashion?" Valeria tacked on.

"You guys can't pick either!" He laughed, "And you do a helluva lot more shopping than I do!"

Laura, Valeria, and you paused to exchange looks, you pointing at Bucky and relenting in a drawl, "Touché."

When you were escorted back into the dressing room, Laura waiting outside the door for your privacy with Valeria, Bucky sat back on the plush loveseat and extended his one arm over the back of the seating. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as if in disbelief - but he was. Bucky was in disbelief.

How did a rugged Mob boss find himself here? Watching his girl like a private fashion show?

His whole life, all he knew was turmoil, pain, drama, and fear. He knew he would inherit his father's well-built organization after he passed and knew what this life would entail; having no preconceived notions about a quiet life. He knew he would have to be tougher than tough, adaptable, intelligent, and confident in his role as the head of the 3-6 Brooklyn Mob. Knowing the idea of a family was farfetched, knowing he'd never know the simple pleasures in life, that he would constantly be on the move - in-able to form real, sentimental, emotional connections. He knew, in this life, he'd remain alone for everyone's best interest and safety, indulging in a series of flings and one-off relationships that couldn't haunt him.

Yet they did. These encounters reminded Bucky how alone, how stranded, how isolated, how different he was. Instead of satisfying an unquenchable thirst, these fleeting partners became heavy anchors to Bucky's reality and reminded him that there was no such thing as love - nor was there any room or logic.

And then... He met you. Bucky's lips silently spread in a grin as he remembered meeting you at a bakery; purchasing the last slice of coconut cream pie to your absolute chagrin. He thought you were gorgeous, something ethereal and unobtainable; authentic, raw, and unfiltered - things his one night stands could never measure up to. So, he offered you the slice of pie if it meant giving him your number as currency.

After that, it was impossible for Bucky to consider ever being alone again because you were the sun; center of the universe that drew everyone into your orbit. He was smitten, content, excited to date you, turned on by the fact you had no idea who he was - a rare occurrence in the city. You were pure as fresh snow; sweet, kind, affectionate, attentive, and borderline overly empathetic.

Bucky knew he was in love with you after only a few weeks when he had shown up at your apartment, dripping in blood. You didn't panic like he feared you would, just checked up and down the hallway before yanking him into your home. You cleaned him up, tending to wounds, offering a safe space for him to relax in; making mindless conversation to help distract him from the pain he endured.

And now? Now, Bucky was sat in Dior, giving his opinion on your wedding guest dress; wondering how he allowed himself to get to this point of being domestic. Bucky wasn't a man to give his opinion on dresses, what color nail polish you should use, to send fresh bouquets of flowers every other week. Yet here he was, sipping too-expensive coffee, deciding between brown, green, and blue dresses that he never would've batted an eye at.

However, that was just the domino effect you caused in his life. You were sweeter than apple pie, becoming Bucky's one tether to reality that saved him from losing himself in this dark, criminal mindset he adopted. You didn't know it, but you had transformed Bucky from a brooding asshole into a boyfriend; someone you were proud to claim and never hid from - never shied away from. He admired the way you came to terms with his job, knowing it was a hard pill to swallow and yet noting the way you just accepted him as he was.

Bucky realized in that moment that he adored this new aspect of life after thinking it was impossible to obtain. He adored sitting here, offering opinions on dresses, his security left outside instead of hovering over him like a brutal reminder he was seedy. He loved having you to come home to, he loved being part of your mundane world - a person who went to weddings, who drank Starbucks, who asked her boyfriend his opinion about how she looked in dresses. Who thought bouquets of flowers were romantic, who baked him homemade cakes for his birthday, who worked overtime in order to afford his Christmas or birthday presents, who walked to the takeout place instead of paying for delivery.

All that you are, Bucky adored deeply; falling in love with you each and every single day. All he wanted to do was protect you, share his life with you, even pick out outfits for weddings you would attend. He knew if any of the men in his organization knew the extent of his affection, they'd surely weaponize it against him... Or at the very least, tease him relentlessly. Yet he never cared, knowing you wanted to be loved out loud instead of hidden away in a storage closet; but did care if it meant his enemies could use you to get to him. It was a risk, an occupation hazard for loved ones to become targets, but that only made Bucky so much more protective of you.

Laura glanced at Bucky and saw the fond smile soften to let his teeth trap his bottom lip, smiling at the Mob boss looking soft, content, smitten being there. She knew most boyfriends would never put this much effort into helping their girlfriends in the fashion department, thinking he must've been truly in love to look so at-ease. Plus his enthusiasm through the entire ordeal assured her that Bucky was genuinely enjoying himself.

Once again, you slipped into the blue dress and showed Bucky. He hummed and snapped a photo, asking you to turn this way and that. Then you tried the green dress, him taking another photo, and finally, you changed into the brown satin dress, facing Bucky for his final verdict.

Bucky hummed in contemplation, swiping through the photos. "You know what?" He asked, looking at you with a grin. "You look delectable in everything, I can't decide - so, let's just get them all."

"Bucky, no - "

"We'll take all three, Valeria, please," Bucky interrupted you.

You waited until the attendants left you alone with a knowing look shot in your direction to ring up the desired purchases, hip cocking and hands to your hips. With an underlying exasperation, you questioned, "What the hell, Buck?"

He grinned and stood, again, buttoning his suit jacket, "C'mon, princess, this is fun, right? Being spoiled?." His arms wrapped around your waist, looking down at you as if you hung the very sun that sucked him into your orbit. "What's the point of all my money if I can't spend it on you? Huh?"

"You can save it for a rainy day?"

He shrugged, "Not necessary."

"Maybe pay to send some underprivileged kids to go to college?"

"Well, there's a thought," your boyfriend mused, "but I already do that through the Stark Foundation. I sponsor a few scholarships."

"Okay, well, buying all three still doesn't help me decide what to wear," you chuckled, you mimicked his action and wrapped your arms tightly around the base of his ribs. Due to his height, your head had to tip backwards to meet his eyes with a small smile.

You could look at this gorgeous man all day, everyday if God ever permitted such an act. Why wasn't dating a paid activity? You'd be the top earner with the way you were absolutely enthralled with all Bucky Barnes was. And what an honor it was to earn his mutual adoration.

"We'll figure it out at home. Gotta get you moving in the material to make an honest judgement," he offered softly. "But you look gorgeous in all of them, baby, seriously. Like, drop dead gorgeous that makes every girl brim with jealousy. Shit, doll, you're gonna run the risk of outshining the bride."

You sighed, "Look, Buck, I appreciate what you're doing, but three designer dresses? Where the hell am I ever gonna wear them? What kinda event calls for overpriced fashion statements?"

Buck eased with a soft expression, "Guess I'll just have to take you out so you can put them all to good use, huh?"

"That's not a solution!"

"Is to me," he let a hand drift to roughly palm the meat of your ass cheek over the brown satin; another symptom of him being whipped, his comfort over public displays of affection. "Seriously, doll, how the hell did I get so lucky?"

"Hmm?"

"Just look at you, my girl," he chuckled lightly, "radiant in anything you put on. It's almost unfair, makes me wonder what I did so right to have someone like you I can call my own. I can't wait to show you off in those dresses, just look so Goddamn tantalizing. I mean, damn, baby, I'm gonna have to fight off men with my gun and the jealous women with a stick."

"You do realize we're already dating, you don't have to lay it on so thick."

"And you do realize being with you makes me the luckiest bastard in the city, right? Least I can do is spoil you, I've already got everything else I've ever wanted."

Your heart swelled at his words, sighing gently as your chin rested on his chest to keep your head tilted. Softly, you admitted, "I don't think you're the lucky one, pretty sure the honor's mine. I couldn't ask for anything more in a man - in a partner. I'm so fucking in love with you, Bucky, it honestly doesn't make sense."

He nodded, asking, "Know what else doesn't make sense?"

"What's that?"

"You refusing those dresses, I mean, c'mon!" He laughed, you groaning and releasing your hold; making his tighten to prevent you from escaping. "Those dresses look phenomenal on you, you really gonna reject my gift? C'mon, you know the rules, doll, if you adore her, you Dior her." You were ready to retort, but Bucky smiled, "For the record, I think you should wear the blue dress to the wedding."

"Blue it is," you smiled, lifting onto your toes and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to meet his lips in a scratchy kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," you whispered, feeling his lips spread against yours before he brought you back in for a much-more passionate kiss. "Hm!" You hummed, pulling away to scold, "But no more, all right? You spend too much money on me - I mean, who the hell needs three designer dresses?"

"You do," he whispered, "you deserve all of this, sugar, and I'll do what I can t'spoil you the way you should be. Might as well get used to it, I got no plans on stopping."

Your eyes rolled in good faith, excusing yourself, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Lemme get changed and we can - "

"Nah," he shook his head, petting the skin of your back exposed from the brown satin dress with his fingertips, "know what? Stay in the dress, I wanna take you out and show you off."

Your lips found his in a breath-sucking kiss, trying to convey your appreciation and giddiness over never having been spoiled like this in your entire life - feeling grateful, refreshed, and privileged for a man like Bucky in your life. Whatever greater force there was in this world, you thanked repeatedly for choosing you to love this man and for this man to love you. There was no telling what you did to deserve him, but blessed be those heavenly powers.

requesting rules and masterlist

MCU masterlist

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buckyysdoll · 9 months

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weirdomellow · 3 months

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Riding Bucky

Woke up to the new photos and all I have are thots about beefy Bucky 🫠

18+ below! Minors DNI!

Bucky Barnes x female reader

Imagine riding Bucky's dick and feeling his chest hair 🫠

Imagine him being tied to the bed just for fun without any domination. It was actually his idea to do this, to be tied up and to see how much you want to take control

You both are already naked and there he is in all his glory, gorgeous and with that amazing chest hair that drives you insane

You are wet from just looking at him and when you sink down on him, the sounds coming out of you are unreal. You feel him, vein by vein and inch by inch. He feels so damn good.

You start slow, your hands on his chest, you touch his hair, feel him in you, with you.

As you start riding him, there is a sinister smile on his face. You both know he wants to hold you, take control but you both want to see how well you want to be in control this time. See how long it lasts until he snaps.

As you ride him, you get louder, more electric. You feel your orgasm building. Normally you love being edged but this time, you want to come again and again. You want to be ruined and ruin him.

When you come, you cry out loud, creaming his cock and nibbling on his neck, feeling his scent and him.

You both never felt so good before.

And afterwards? He DOES snap, ties you up this time and makes sure you come for him again and again.

#personal ideas #personal thots #beefy bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #beefy!bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x woc!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you

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daisybvck · 4 months

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𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 : Bucky Barnes x reader

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 : Your superior agent Bucky Barnes just wants the best for you, right ?

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 : 18+, smut, Bucky Barnes as a fucking whole, dubcon/noncon, cockwarming, manipulation, praise

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Bucky had invented a way to manipulate you into fucking him. And honestly; he was pretty proud of himself. When he approached you last week and offered some one-on-one training, you jumped at the chance. No one else is able to perform domain expansions like him, who were you to turn down additional support? You'd do anything to get ahead in your training, and the better you were, the better help you'd be in the field

You were grateful, albeit a little confused when he didn't invite you out to go into the compound gym Instead, he drove you to his apartment.

But that's okay... Right?

He probably has tools and things here he needs to get before he heads out. Although you've never actually seen him use anything besides that blunt butterfly knife. That's okay too, just because he doesn't use any other weapon isn't to say he doesn't have others. It's the only logical explanation as to why you were in his apartment right now. He was finding a spare tool just for you!

Alas, that suspicion was dashed as you watched Bucky remove his tie, calmly. Before you could ask what he was doing, he tied the silk accessory around your neck. You would have objected; but you were just totally lost for words at what was happening. When there was a secure knot around your neck, he tugged you closer to him.

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Please remove your clothes... Slowly." he demanded. He backed away to form a gap between you both. He wanted to see you do as you were instructed and enjoy the display. He began unbuttoning the top button his dress shirt.

"I don't_"

"Speak up if you have something to say he interjected, insulting your whispering tone. You couldn't help it. Your throat practically closed all on its own.

"I don't- why are you- how is this going to help?" you stuttered. His vision sharpened in on you. The stuttering displeased him, immensely. “I'm just not sure how removing our clothes is going to make me a better sorcerer.”

"Are you questioning me?"

"No! I just-" you choked as you found yourself being dragged closer to the blonde man before you once again.

He looked down sternly into your eyes, his lips in a tight line as he planned his next words. You knew he was preparing to chew you out. But what he was actually doing was attempting to come up with a plausible lie to manipulate you into thinking this is acceptable conduct from a superior.

"The avengers are all about endurance. Whoever has the weakest will to go on, less energy to fight, will lose. This is to help you. But if you're too selfish-” he trailed off, knowing the idle threat of removing the opportunity from you would have you at his beck and call.

“I’m not selfish! 'm sorry Bucky, just didn't understand!”

“Please... Please help me. I'm so grateful, promise." you whimpered pathetically. You even began to remove your clothing for him, just as he'd asked. Better late than never, he supposes.

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He joins you in continuing to take off more articles of clothing. He's satisfied with the speed you find yourself naked. While shirtless, he pauses to inspect your body.

He has waited an awfully long time to see you like this. In this vulnerable, intimate state. And you're too dense to realise it's all a rouse. But he'll never tell, and he's sure you'll keep it secret too. God forbid any of the others discover his sick little plan. If you're both careful, both smart about this, you could probably do this forever. You feel a little embarrassed under his harsh gaze, using your arms to cover whatever intimate areas as best you can.

He tuts once and shakes his head.

"Don't do that. You have a fine body, beautiful in fact." he admits. You don't really want to uncover yourself, but you do as he asks regardless. He raises his index finger, whistling as he spins it through the air. You obey his speechless command and spin around. You're unsure if he wants you to do a 360° or 180°.

"Stop." he speaks while your back is facing him.

He comes up behind you, palming his hands over the flesh of your right cheek. He knows you're only doing it because you're uncomfortable, but he's revelling in the way you're squirming around under his touch.

Has it been a while for you, perhaps? Just as it had been quite some time for him? You yip as you feel his palm collide with your soft flesh.

"I want you to remove my trousers and underwear for me.” he informs you. You're spun around to be facing him, and soon he's pressing down on your shoulders, indicating that he wants you on your knees. He doesn't mind that you are fumbling and taking too long. He knows this is a lot for you to handle out of the blue. He can see in the way your whole body shakes that you're terrified, but he'll be gentle with you - mostly.

Finally his member springs free and thumps against his chiselled body. Even he cracks a little smile on that serious expression when he notices your eyes bulge in fascination. The little patches of drool forming in the corner of your mouth don't go unnoticed either.

It's so pretty. The prettiest you've ever seen. If Nanami didn't know any better, he'd thinking you were falling in love. He couldn't believe you were genuinely salivating over his dick like this. What else were you meant to do?

The tip was pink and pretty, the type of pink that makes you feel giddy. The head wasn't particularly large, but the slit was delectable, too. A gorgeous hole that you wanted nothing more than to tease with your tongue. And it was already leaking for you. So pearly and drippy. The length was admirable, too. It was a just perfect girth; and not too veiny. Two distinct veins ran along the underside his his length.

You couldn't take it anymore. You had to have it, to taste it. But before you could swallow him up, he yanked on your makeshift leash and tugged you away from his erection.

"Not today.

"But-"

"This is business, not pleasure, remember?" he reminded you. You nodded, dumbly. How could you be so stupid? It was so amusing to him. His sweet, naïve girl. “When I sit down, you're going to sink yourself down onto me." he instructed. You squinted at him in confusion, it seemed like an over explanatory way of saying he wanted to have sex with you.

"You want me to ride you." It's a statement, not a question. Because that is what it sounds like he wants, but he shakes his head. What a silly girl you are. There's more to life than fucking.

"I just want your cunt wrapped around me."

Your knees were either side of his thighs as your pussy enveloped his desperate, wanting cock. It shocked you that Bucky was such a gentle kisser, very sweet and tender. Even as he moved from your lips to other parts of your body, he was never rough with you. Featherlight kisses worked down to your neck, your shoulders, and eventually the soft flesh of your breasts.

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This is the extent of your encounter, this is all you'd been doing with him for the last half an hour. His lips and wet tongue felt perfect around your protruding nipples; but now it was nowhere near close to enough. You were so full, full of him, and yet there was no relief. His cock head was nuzzled snuggly in your cunt. It would be so easy for him to fuck up into you, granting both the release you desperately craved. But he had forbade it. He stilled your attempt at riding him by digging his fingers into your hips and slamming you back down in place.

"Sit still for me sweetheart.?

"'s too hard! Too hard Bucky!"

It was embarrassing. Wriggling around in his lap like a desperate virgin. It was out of your control now. Your cunt was soaking wet because of him and he could feel the way your sopping walls clenched around him. Even he has to admit that he can barely hold himself back anymore.

"You're never going to reach my level if you can't endure.

A little pathetic aren't you, hm?" he taunts. It's mean an unnecessary, but it's all part of a larger scheme. If you feel like you've failed, you'll be desperate to do it again and prove him wrong. And he can keep up this charade for as long as he can get away with.

"I- I can't! James please, I can't wait any longer. Fuck me! I need it, need it s'bad!" you are nearly screaming as you beg and plead with him to make your dreams a reality. He hushes you as he repositions himself ever so slightly. He needs to get a more comfortable angle if he wants you to see what he's truly capable of. Bucky kisses the shell of your ear a few times and coos. He's going to make it better, he's going to make you feel better.

"So obedient for me angel, aren't you?" he whispers to you, bouncing you lightly on the length of his cock. It's not enough, you know it and he knows it. He's just getting started. He picks up the pace as he aligns his mouth to whisper into your ear once again. "You're such a good girl when you're begging for cock. the vibrations of his voice traverse directly into your ear and make you shudder. He grunts harshly as his whispering results in your cunt clamping him in a vice grip once again.

"Wanna be a good girl... Wanna be a good agent!" you explain. He shushes you again and praises you for your determination. His thumbs are put to use when tears spill from your eyes; the pleasure of his cock finally pleasing you feeling so heavenly and so intense all in one.

"Good girls... Good agents can endure their training”

“Good girls aren't desperate to get fucked by their superiors." he hums. He does feel a little guilty. He's chastising you for no good reason, after all. He wanted

this just as much as you did - if not more so, in fact. But the way you sniffle at his words dashes any guilt he felt.

You really are a good girl.

“sorry B-Bucky. I'II do- I'II do better n-next time!”

“Promise!" you stutter, hoping to get your point across.

You know you're understood when his index finger and thumb find your chin, tilting your face to his. His lips meet yours in another sweet, delicate kiss.

"Ah, yes." he begins, "Clever girl. Next time."

433 notes · View notes

softevnstan · 1 year

Note

(nsfw) random prompt event generator for bucky!!

Bucky and Y/N going back to one or the other's house after a date, where they eventually end up dry-humping on the couch. Y/N only intends this as foreplay, but Bucky is already getting overwhelmed. Y/N finds this amusing and endearing, leaning close to whisper something teasingly into Bucky's ear. It turns out that Bucky is more excited than Y/N thought, and hits orgasm without any further stimulation, to the surprise of Y/N and the embarrassment of Bucky. What happens next?

pairing. bucky barnes x gender neutral! reader

summary. After a date night out with Bucky as you explore your new relationship, you unintentionally wind up taking your makeout session a little too far. Quickly you learn it's been far too long since Bucky has had a partner.

warnings. SMUT - minors DNI. kissing, praise kink, dirty talk, size difference, beefy bucky, dry humping, masturbation (bucky and you), implied/referenced trauma, reader has v but still gender neutral. p with plot, recovering!bucky barnes (half-way).

a.n. ok, i have other things to write and originally i was gonna let this wait... until i read the prompt again and saw this as an opportunity for some mild bottom/fluffy bucky. (bucky is a bottom you can't change my mind, but i'll write top for you all i promise) starts a little fluffy at first because idk how to not write some sort of context to situations, and bucky is still in recovery reasonably so

w.c. 7.6k howdidthishappen

Your date with Bucky exceeded your expectations. Wary that things would potentially be a little rough around the edges while the soldier was still trying to put himself back together, you were pleasantly surprised when he picked you up at your apartment with a bouquet of flowers - specifically an interesting combination of sunflowers and roses. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had bought you flowers, and after running them inside so as to not ruin them by taking them on the trip, Bucky held your hand all the way to his motorcycle and helped you settle comfortably before embarking on the evening together. No awkward pauses or tense, heavy moments with Bucky; It was sweet and a dream come true that you didn’t even know you’d had.

He’d surprised you on where you both were going initially. Blindly trusting Bucky with wherever he chose your date location, he decided that the Art Museum was the safest choice. Dinners could be awkward - what if you don’t like the way someone chews their food? Movies hardly left time to actually get to know one another, instead just sitting in the dark with occasional spared glances. Anything too physical could be exerting and hinder you from another date with Bucky. So after indecisively pondering, Bucky had chosen that an art exhibit was the best way to go.

You loved it.

So many classic paintings and countless mediums of art filled the halls as you two strode hand in hand. Bucky was on the quieter side, but not enough to deter you. He’d smile and watch the twinkle in your eyes when you both came across a particularly marvelous work of art that you loved. Bucky had listened smittenly as you gushed about the way some pieces of art made you feel or the message you interpreted behind it all. Eventually, Bucky had begun to open up throughout the night to do the same. What felt like hours of enriched conversation and two people simply being in the moment.

Sometimes people don’t need candles and rose petals, sometimes people just need someone to talk to and feel just as down to earth with.

Unfortunately, neither of you had finished going through the whole museum together in one sitting.

Bucky had used that as the opportunity to salvage the situation; “I guess that means we’ll just have to come back together.” He’d said fondly when you both stopped at the mini-cafe built in the museum before you both left.

Instead of letting the date die down when the museum began closing for the night, you offered to bring the party back to your apartment instead. Tempting Bucky with a bottle of wine sitting in your kitchen so you two could just spend some more time together, he didn’t need too much convincing. Any excuse to stay close to you, to steal some of your time just a little longer before returning to his dull apartment.

‘How could I say no to you, doll?’ He had said, and you’d beamed at the small victory.

Truly, you hadn’t meant for it to end up where it was (not that you were complaining). When you asked Bucky to come into your apartment building, when you’d walked together hand in hand, you didn’t think you’d wind up like this. But somewhere between being plastered against Bucky’s backside and having the privilege to let your hands wander and explore tight leather hiding thick arms or the adrenaline of feeling the wind whipping in your hair, you’d started to become insatiable on the trip back.

Bucky had this way with you that made you feel like a teenager in love all over again.

Sure, he was quiet, but he was misunderstood. Soft and sweet, he had a compassionate heart and an intelligent mind, the gentle giant.

It’d taken some time to help Bucky bring down those walls initially - countless weeks you’d spent just trying to be his friend before he finally caved and agreed. He was a private person, you learned, but once peeling back all the layers, Bucky was amazing and worth all the work that went into opening him up. Creative and smart, a book-lover and funny, he was gentle and tender and emotional in every way that a man could be if they let themselves. He wasn’t afraid to be honest, but was instead afraid to voice that too loud. He wasn’t afraid to be emotional or vulnerable with those he trusted - not the unfeeling machine that so many had made him out to be. Bucky had simply needed someone who understood him - or was willing to if nothing else.

Once you’d gotten past all of it, all of the rough nights and moody days, it was worth it. You’d watched Bucky become something he never was before…

He was the one who had taken your relationship a step further.

Tentatively and timidly, might you add. Always endearing. He’d been anxious asking you to come out with him - as though he’d been fighting with himself for a long while on whether or not he should even ask. When he finally called you and asked if you’d like to go out on a date with him tonight - yes, he’d used date - you’d been elated.

And sure, you were moving a little too fast at that moment, but life is short and he’s already on seventy years of borrowed time. Bucky deserves to be loved.

Warm hand had rubbed up the length of Bucky’s bicep, and you gave his shoulder a squeeze when getting off of his motorcycle with a teasing glint in your eyes.

When he walked with you into the building, you hugged his left arm to your side - refusing for any additional space to come between the both of you as you prattled on about 'Birthday', by Dorothea Tanning and how you interpreted it as the door into the imagination, and Bucky was busy trying to remember which painting it was you were talking about - it was 'the winged scared cat-creature on the floor' that rejogged his memory.

Bucky was just happy you clung so easily to the cold and hard metal of his vibranium arm as if it were his own.

Turning into your hall, you’d begun to pull Bucky by the arm. Turning on your heel and offering him a smitten smile when you tugged him closer to your body in a backward walk. His eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile, his smile wide and showing off pretty white teeth. Even the sheepish duck of his head was precious when you led him into your apartment, finally excited to have time where it could be just you and Bucky without prying eyes.

"If you were eager to get home, you could've just said so," Bucky teased you, and you gave a playful smirk in response.

"M'not, I'm just excited to finally be alone with you." you'd cooed, attempting to make the words seductive but honestly they came more sentimental than anything.

The door gave way behind you when you twisted the knob with your one hand, the other still clutching to Bucky's sleeve. It didn't give Bucky a chance to respond to your retort when you tugged him right on into your apartment. Instead, it earned a chuckle that snapped into a gasp with your pull.

It was when that door shut that something came over you. Tucked into your own little corner of the world, you didn’t fear overwhelming Bucky with affection that made him uncomfortable. No worries about people gawking and making him feel out of place (or him being afraid of gawking, really).

When you both were just past the threshold of your apartment, you turned and used your foot to push the door shut. Fingers sliding up Bucky's arm, you used the moment to grab the lapels of his leather coat and step back - coming flush with the door and dragging Bucky right on into your tight space.

Hardly giving him a chance to protest. Wide cobalt eyes study you when you both are finally still, Bucky's hands hovering a little uselessly briefly and while shocked, still pleasantly surprised by your bravery.

"Someone is a little impatient," Bucky comments, expression softening. "Not impatient, just excited." You defend with a loving smile. "I could've sworn there was a bottle of wine mentioned..." Bucky trails. "Can you even get intoxicated?" You rhetorically question with a curious tilt of your head and a knowing grin. "Can't I drink for the taste like most people do?" Bucky retorts. "Touché."

You both fall into a small fit of giggles and soft laughs, the small talk helping to alleviate some of Bucky's nerves. His hands slowly come to settle on your sides since you're not budging from where you'd pressed flat against the door. Enjoying being wedged between a door and Bucky - you'd be crazy not to.

Despite the way, your mind is running a million miles a minute and your gaze can't seem to draw away from Bucky's pouty lips, Bucky doesn't seem to be picking up as easily on your advances. That's okay. He's always been worth the wait.

“...Did you have a good evenin’, doll?” he asks, flesh hand smoothing down to delicately rest on your hip.

“I was with you, wasn’t I?" Bucky looks at you for a beat as if slightly unconvinced... "Yes, Bucky. One of the best dates I've ever been on... ‘S a shame, I don’t want it to end.” You coo, drawing Bucky in closer until you’re both flush against each other. His left-gloved hand lifted to push your hair from your face tenderly.

“Who says it has to end right here?” Bucky hums with his signature playboy grin - no wonder why he had every girl in Brooklyn creaming their panties.

The low husk of his voice strikes you to your very core, allowing your imagination to run wild with the countless thoughts of what the man before you could really do if he tried. Really, it wouldn’t take much; Bucky already had you curled around his finger, whether he knew it or not was another question.

“I thought you’d never ask,” pleased, you lay your hands flat on Bucky’s chest. Feeling under his open coat and hands finding the expanse of muscle. You tilt your head back, biting your bottom lip seductively with a cheeky grin.

You aren’t ready to find Bucky’s eyes watching you so intently. The way he wets his bottom lip before worrying it between his teeth and releasing that pouty lip of his. Eyes boring right into you and keeping you pinned between him and the door. Ever so carefully, Bucky cups your cheek in his large gloved palm. There’s hardly a missed beat when you turn your head and nose affectionately into his palm, able to hear the soft whirring of the machinery before pressing a chaste kiss to leave behind.

“I had fun tonight,” You reiterate to him softly - the drag of your lips accentuated with every word against his palm.

“M’glad. You look good when you’re happy.” Bucky murmurs, but he seems distracted. Cobalt eyes follow every drag of your lips, Bucky exhales a shallow breath.

“I bet I could think of a few ways you could make me even happier, Bucky,” you singsong, hand sliding up over Bucky’s that hold your cheek to press affectionately into his touch. Always grateful for anything, nuzzling into him like a needy kitten.

Part of you is waiting for the next step. For him to make the next move - that’s the dance between you two. You step, and Bucky steps one more further. Playing off of each other. It doesn’t come.

“M’sure you could, sugar,” Bucky starts, and you’re waiting for the ‘But’... “But,” There it is. “Maybe we should slow down just a little. It’s been such a good night…”

“We could make it better,” you offer, and Bucky flushes slightly at the implication.

“...I don’t want to move too fast,” Bucky says after a pause in a hushed whisper - as though scared if he speaks any louder, the universe may come in and rip this good thing away from him as it has a history of doing.

“Listen, I care about you. And I had a really, really good time with you - I’m still so happy you agreed to come out with me. But you’re not- Not some dame. I’m not just trying to get into your pants, Y/N…” Bucky elaborates tentatively, and you watch him with understanding in your gaze.

“I know,” You softly lament. “You’re not that kind of fella, Bucky…” “I want you to feel comfortable with me - happy,” Bucky emphasizes, and for half a moment your heart hurts for the man in front of you. So convinced he’s still capable of doing harm, even after all of this time. “I can’t think of a time I’ve been uncomfortable around you at all, actually,�� Softly you contest, and Bucky offers you a briefly amused smile.

“We can take our time,” Bucky presses; You can tell it’s more for him than it is for you. “Anything you need.” No questions about it. Nuzzling into Bucky’s palm, your lips form a chaste smile. “You’re too good to me, sugar…” “Funny, I’ve found myself thinking that all night.” Bucky finds humor in the words; expression softening and some of the tension that had begun to rebuild in him falling away. Bucky laughs. Soft, but rich. He leans in and presses a lingering kiss to your temple; Protective and loving. “Earlier, you said you had fun… So did I. This was one of the best nights in a while for me,” The admission comes with the feel of Bucky’s lips ghosting your skin. It’s distracting.

“I’m glad; You deserve good things, too, Bucky.” Something you tend to try to remind Bucky of often; You’ll slam that fact into his head until he one day decides to believe it for himself and see what everyone else sees. “You are my good thing,” he whispers even quieter; Unintentionally dropping the tone of his voice and sending shivers down your spine.

No words are exchanged when your hands lift and find Bucky’s defined jaw; cradling him gently and drawing him in for a deep but loving kiss. The first of many tonight.

Both you and Bucky had soon migrated from the door in the foyer to your cozy living room. You both struggled to keep space between one another; Lips meeting together over and over again. The only sound was your own heart pounding in your ears and the soft breaths between you and Bucky.

You were planted in his lap. Sat on strong, thick thighs - your arms draped around Bucky’s broad shoulders. His hands sat comfortably on your sides; gloves abandoned on the coffee table when he’d wanted to feel you. Not leather obstructing him from feeling the proper warmth of your flushed skin. His head tipped back to accommodate the way you had gained a few inches on him upon being seated in his lap.

Despite the way you two were entangled, it was nothing more than kisses. His hands hadn’t dared to venture below your belt, and while the kisses were definitely full of passion, it wasn’t the flame you were yearning and burning for. To respect Bucky’s request though, you didn’t proceed any further. Content with the taste of Bucky on your tongue, the warmth of his breath, and the barely there noises you were able to draw out of him that rumbled in his chest. His lips were soft and moved naturally against one another - It was a moment of euphoria.

Just the way your mouths slotted together alone was enough to rile you up; It’d been so long, and no one was as tender a lover as Bucky was with you. Each time he touched you, it was with consideration and care for what you wanted, what would feel good. Never in the means of his own self-gain. It made you that much more desiring of him; the connection that you both maintained had been there for months, it was simply that you both had finally begun to act on it.

You’d told yourself you’d be slow. Take this at your own pace. No one wants to rush into a relationship that has the potential to end messy. But there you were; Necking in your living room with Brooklyn’s finest bachelor since 1936. Truly, you were only human, and it hadn’t escalated further than that. Breathing each other in, heated and heavy. You hadn’t even done it intentionally.

One could only fault you so much when your hips rolled into Bucky’s. Formerly nestled still in his lap, you found yourself moving without thought. Grinding down into the soldier’s lap, it elicited a deep groan from his throat, and tilted his head down to pull your lips apart. His hands instinctively moved to your hips; Clutching moderately tight to still your ministrations. You relished in the subtle pressure that came with Bucky’s hands securely enough to hold you still for hardly a moment. It was enough time for you to have realized the mistake you’d made.

“Shit, I’m sorry–” you stammered between the both of you, and Bucky instead took a shallow inhale. “No, no– It… It was good. It felt good, it’s-... It’s just… been a while.” Bucky timidly expressed, cheeks flushed and breathless. You noticed how he struggled briefly to maintain a heated gaze with you, eyes averting before pinching shut altogether.

“Do we need to stop? It’s okay if we do, Bucky…” Let him know that he had that out if he needed it; You wouldn’t be upset.

That option left Bucky shaking his head profusely. “No,” he rasps out, and you can feel his breath fanning your face. Can still taste him on your lips. You’re both still so close… You can feel the faint flex of his fingers holding you. “I want to keep going… Just… Give me a moment, alright?” He requests, and you give him a comforting smile and an understanding nod.

Your fingers card up into Bucky’s disheveled locks and brush thick hair back from falling in his face. Some of the tension leaves his body when you press a chaste kiss to his temple.

“Whatever you need,” you softly let him know. You’re both still for a minute or two. Simply letting Bucky hold your hips while you kept some of the pressure on your knees - dug into the cushions on either side of his thick thighs. Soothingly rubbing your fingers through Bucky’s hair and giving him a tender hug he relishes in.

Then, slowly, he pulls you back down. Guiding your ass back into his lap and bodies coming flush together. The moment is experimental and you allow Bucky to take all the time he needs even if there is a burning in your thighs from the awkward position. Basking in the relief with a soft sigh and nosing into Bucky’s hair. His hands experimentally dare to explore a little further down. Rubbing from your waist down over your hips to the tops of your thighs. His hands feel like that of a bear's paws in comparison to your physique.

“How are we feeling…?” You ask, checking in on him. “A little better… I’ve been using that 4-7-8 breathing method my therapist recommended, actually,” Bucky says, and you can tell for a moment he just needs to play it by ear. Even if you both don’t do anything tonight, he’s worth the wait.

“Really? That’s good,” Indulging in the moment of chit-chat as his hands still continue the back-and-forth motion. Hypnotizing and leaving your thighs tingling.

Bucky’s reply comes in a soft hum, tilting his head down to nudge his nose at your neck. You tilt your head enough for him to burrow in the hollow of your throat and nose affectionately there. His warm breath makes your skin break out in goosebumps. You let out a shaky exhale before a sappy grin spreads across your face.

He begins to slowly mouth at the sensitive skin of your throat. Gentle kisses and the faint scratch of his stubble that initially tickles enough to make you wiggle in his lap.

“Bucky!” You squeak and you feel the grin against your skin.

“Easy, easy…” Bucky lowly tells you and it burns into your core. It’s easy to go lax when he’s the voice coaxing you back. “Good doll,” Bucky says with a chuckle - clearly teasing but it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“M’ticklish,” You defend as your arms squeeze around his shoulders. “I can tell. Might come in handy one day…” His lips still ghost over your skin; ever so distracting.

“You wouldn't.” “I might,” Bucky says, his voice smooth but thick like honey.

A playful pinch to Bucky’s shoulder makes him surrender with a laugh before tipping his head up to press your foreheads together again. This time you’re surprised to find his eyes meeting yours head-on.

“Thank you for being understanding,” Bucky addresses the elephant in the room, traces of anxiety in those gray eyes. “I’m still trying to learn how to let myself be with someone else…”

The words feels so raw; A hushed confession and a moment Bucky is being fully honest with you. Not hiding from it or skirting around it - communicating his boundaries and being able to give himself the time he needs. Your chest swells with pride for the man before you in his growth; You’re so inlove.

“It’s okay, really. I’m not here just to get into your pants, Bucky. I care about you, and we can go as fast or as slow as you need.” You affirm, always wanting Bucky to know that. That he’s safe with you the way you are with him.

“I know,” he whispers, tipping his head up a little further to let your lips brush. “It’s why I like you so much…”

You smile, unable to help but feel a fluttering in your chest. Bucky draws you the rest of the way to press your lips together again. Starting from scratch so that Bucky is able to be more expecting and prepared this time. The build-up doesn’t bother you in the slightest, and it doesn’t take the both of you long to build up where you once were. Bucky’s comfortable kissing you. It’s everything else that daunts him.

Bucky is the one who holds your hips tight against his lap as he gives an experimental roll of his hips up into your ass; feeling the semi-bulge through his jeans. You gasp against his lips, and he seizes the moment to lick hot into your mouth. He doesn’t do it again; Teasing you and inviting you to take the next step. Experimentally, you return the gesture when you grind against Bucky’s lap. It draws a noise from both of you at that time.

“Yeah..,” Bucky huskily groans. “That’s good, fuck…” Bucky’s praise eggs you on to keep pressing down into Bucky. Rotating your hips to allow both of you to grind through your clothes; Traces of Bucky’s arousal evident in his jeans.

He steals your breath with a claiming kiss. Strong hands trailing up your thighs to test the waters. Feeling over the swell of your ass and encouraging you to keep pressing down into him. Rutting against his constricted and half-swelled cock. You’re unsure what to do with your hands other than planting them firmly on Bucky’s chest as you grind your sexes together. Fingers curling into bunch fabric of his shirt as Bucky’s head tilts to deepen your kiss further.

With each second that passes, you feel dizzier. High on the endorphins and lack of oxygen - your chest felt warm and fuzzy. Kissed senseless as Bucky’s firm hands squeeze the globes of your ass and rips a needy keen from your throat, drawing your grinds to a controlled halt. Right when you fear as though you might be too light-headed from the lack of air, Bucky shows some mercy. Freeing your lips and leaving you to gasp; Bucky licking his lips with a satisfied grin.

“I think I taste mint, did you pop a tic-tac earlier when I wasn’t looking…?” Bucky breathlessly teases, both of you so close that you can feel his smile. In that moment, you’re simply trying to return to Earth for a moment between soft, airy breaths.

When you will yourself to finally look at Bucky again, his eyes are blown. His black pupils swallowing the blue of his eyes; leaving behind a thin ring. Something inside of him looks livelier than you’ve ever seen, Bucky’s cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

“Jesus, Bucky,” is all you manage, earning a cheeky grin from Bucky - proud. “Speechless? I’m relieved to know after nearly a century I haven’t gotten rusty… It’d be embarrassing if I was 107 and didn’t know how to kiss,” Bucky jokes, and something inside of you feels so warm and fuzzy.

That you both can joke while still being in the moment and grinding into each other moments prior.

“Cocky, are we soldier?” You hum after regaining some of your composure, hands lifting to hold his face. Before Bucky has a chance to speak, the wiggle of your hips draws a reminder of the length in his jeans. Bucky chokes on a stifled groan low in his throat at the way you frott into him.

“Very funny,” he asks, still slightly out of breath.

“You took me by surprise,” you admit softly, “You never seem so brave…” “Frankly, sugar, it’s… Been a really long time. I’ve spent a too long runnin’ and not getting to actually feel alive - I’m not just surviving anymore. It’s taken time and it’ll still take more, but you make me feel better.” Bucky confesses fondly, and you snort with amusement. Pressing a loving kiss to his lips.

“Sap.” You murmur between soft pecks. “Only you could turn something hot into something sweet.” “Can’t we have both?” Bucky cooes. “Absolutely.”

This time, you take lead. Pecking kisses down from Bucky’s lips, over his stubbled cheek and defined jaw. His head tilts back to accommodate the way you nudge, leaving open-mouth kisses in your wake. Sucking the salty skin to leave behind loving bruises that will only last so long with Bucky’s healing factor. He groans; Adam’s apple bobbing when you stamp kisses back up his neck to the juncture of his ear and jaw. A soft kiss before you take a playful nip at his earlobe and send shivers racking through the man under you. “Oh, babydoll,” Bucky sighs airly, taking it upon himself to guide your hips. You move on your own accord as Bucky grinds you into his lap; Moving you back and forth to rut together through your clothes. You don’t have to do any of the work, instead just taking some time to give Bucky the loving he deserves.

When you peer at his face, his eyes are closed. Lashes kissing the tops of his cheeks and lips parted with soft breaths; the occasional clench of teeth pulls out a gravelly rumble from his chest. All of it has you so hot, so riled up. It’s just the two of you alone in the apartment; The air is charged with electricity between the two of you. The scrape of your teeth makes Bucky’s lips curl into a devious grin.

“You’re doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praises. “My pretty baby, yeah… God– Do you feel what you do to me, honey…?” Bucky’s voice was hoarse, the friction working him up just as much as it was you. The throbbing between your legs was becoming insatiable - your answer coming in a whimper as you sucked another purpling bruise into Bucky’s throat.

Your hips move enthusiastically. Trying to meet Bucky for every grind; Becoming too much for him to handle at one point.

“Sl-Slow down, baby… Easy, we’ve got time,” he attempts to coax, but you’re busy chasing that high at that moment. You want to make Bucky feel good - this is doing that for him; Pleasing him.

“What’s wrong, big guy?” You ask with an airy giggle, nosing up to Bucky’s ear. Your lips press against the shell of his ear; “I can’t get enough of you touching me, Bucky. I just want to make you come, thinking about it turns me on so much…”

You don’t realize until it’s too late what the words do to him, whispered out right in his ear. Bucky’s nose scrunches up and his jaw goes slack. His body becomes taut underneath you; Hands clutching hard and leaving a dull ache in your bones despite the way you’re still trying to move. Bucky’s hips stutter harshly, and suddenly he’s gasping out. Moaning low and breathy as he rides out his orgasm with half-hearted bucks up into your ass.

Your eyes widen with a sense of wonder as Bucky comes undone in those short few seconds. His lips curl into a perfect ‘o’ and he shudders, eyes pinched shut. “Ohhhh fuuuck,” Bucky moans, long and drawn out, and there’s not a hotter sight than Bucky Barnes coming because of you. You smile; Pleased with yourself and priding yourself on the fact of being able to be the one to do this to Bucky. You continue the grueling roll of your hips into his hard dick - little left to the imagination while your fingers tangle in his hair and you hold him close. Watching his face all the while; Not wanting to miss a single moment.

Bucky rides it out until he’s left with beads of sweat misting his hairline, panting with the rise and fall of his chest. Taking his time, licking his lips before seemingly becoming sheepish of how easily he’d just fallen apart. No warning; It’s been so long since he’s had another sexual partner to experience these things within a positive environment.

Your hips only stop when he’s well and done, knowing that most guys half the time are one-and-done. “That… That felt really good, m’sorry, it’s– it’s different. With, y’know, someone else… Versus alone…” Bucky manages awkwardly, and you simply draw him in for a lingering kiss.

“I understand,” You murmur comfortingly against his lips. “You can clean up in the bathroom; I don’t have anything in your size for underwear, unfortunately, but I can find a pair of flannel bottoms that might fit…” “What about you?” Bucky asks, raising a brow. “Me?” “You.. You didn’t get to… Y’know.”

It’s oddly endearing how he worries about the fact that you weren’t able to get off the way he had. “What, we’re afraid to use adult language now?” You tease, and Bucky rolls his eyes. “M’bein’ serious. I want you to feel good…” Bucky says, rubbing your thighs soothingly. “I can get it up again if you give me a minute.” He adds, and for a moment you’re confused before placing the answer upon a super soldier refractory period.

“You’d be comfortable with that..?” You ask with a curious tilt, and Bucky bites his lips together; you can see the lingering daze in his eyes from the post-orgasm haze. “No,” he answers almost nervously. “I… Tonight has been a lot already. I don’t think I want to go there yet…” And you expect it to end there, but: “I have something else in mind, though.”

“Oh, do you now…?” you muse, curious. “Have you ever heard of mutual masturbation…?”

You’re both sat facing one another on the couch; One of your legs tucked under your body and pants long abandoned to the floor leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You’d felt far less reluctance than Bucky had when it came to stripping down; The layers shed easily as your anticipation festered more and more to the surface.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited. You’ve known Bucky for a while now, and let’s not lie to yourself - He’s a good-looking man who can do things with a single look. The ‘Barnes Charm’ he was so popular for when he was young was still there; Showing itself in small flickers of moments from time to time. The only instances in acting on it on your behalf were in the comfort of your bedroom, alone in the sheets. No one’s business but yours.

But now you’re there with him and no one else. No one to disturb your private moment.

Touch was something that was hard for Bucky - he’d expressed that to you when he stammered over what he’d been asking of you. That he’d rather watch one another right then.

Bucky had no problem drinking you in, either. His eyes were fixed on every movement you made - when you’d peeled your shirt off his eyes followed the expanse of glowing skin and studied it all. Every curve and slope of your body; There was no question of how enamored he was with you. It was the first time in a long time you’d felt truly seen. Someone who wasn’t just trying to get into your pants but found you breathtaking.

It was flattering; You could feel the heat in your cheeks and the way it flustered you to be looked at in awe. There was something about Bucky that made you feel perfect. He was a man that was genuine in everything he did; Not much of a people-pleaser if he doesn’t have to be. Arguably a little stubborn, actually. You knew nothing about the way he looked at you was feigned.

He chews his lip as his eyes study you. Leaned more forward from where he’s sat sideways on his half of the couch. Left hand clutching the back of the couch cushion, Bucky had that familiar bulge in his jeans (which were now unbuttoned and peeled open to show off his navy blue briefs).

“You look so perfect, doll…” Bucky murmurs lovingly after a moment, and your heart melts in your chest.

The words felt too intimate for you to accept easily, but you didn’t want to reject the compliment either. So rather than reply verbally, you leaned back into the cushion propped up behind you and drew your right leg up; Pressed into the back of the couch. Your right leg dangles off the side of the couch and leaving you exposed to Bucky. A welcome invitation if he decides to change his mind and wants to touch you.

Bucky breath hitches; shuddering out a slow exhale through his nose. His gaze is hungry, his hand thoughtlessly moving to his own groin to palm the returning erection.

“I’ll love you right, one of these days, sugar.” Bucky promises with a lick of his lips. “This is just fine for tonight, Bucky,” You reassure him, and his gaze racks up to your face. “Thank you again for understanding,” And the softness in his hungry eyes sends a cold desire to your core - something more intimate about that look than the one threatening to eat you whole. “Anything for you.” You tell him, meaning every word.

With that, you make a deliberate show of teasing your fingers down your chest and tummy before slinking between your legs.

“Aww, that’s it, sugar,” Bucky hums fondly with a breathy chuckle. “Eager little thing, gonna put on a pretty show for me..?”

“Only if you promise to do the same; This is just as much for me as it is for you,” You tease affectionately, mood defiled when you trace your hole with your middle and ring finger. The pads of your fingers are cold on sensitive skin, leaving you to shiver and sigh out an airy moan.

“M’not in nearly as a rush as you are, sweetheart.” Bucky hums, and you catch the way his hand slides down to palm at his cock through his underwear. “So excited to be on display, are we?” “Just for you,” you exhale, preening at the way he looks at you while experimentally dipping the tips of your fingers into your wet and wanting hole.

“Thank God, might have to wring someone by the neck if I gotta share a sight as sweet as this...” The tone is playful and joking, but there are traces of genuine possessiveness in Bucky’s voice. The idea alone is enough to have you showing off; gathering the wetness and making a deliberate show of smearing it over glistening skin. Bucky licks his lips with a look as though he wants to eat you alive.

Atleast it’ll give him something to look forward to for when you both do get to the point you can be physically comfortable with intimacy. You can have more than enough fun with this.

“Mother, mary, n’ joseph…” Bucky drawls; that Brooklyn accent of his coming through thick with the rumble of his words. He relaxes back into the couch while you continue the steady stroke of teasing yourself, playing with your clit and leaving your cunt throbbing. Bucky properly slides his jeans down his thighs and bunches his briefs along with them.

The evidence of his previous orgasm smeared in his soiled briefs, his cock thick and bobbing at the cool air. Bucky hisses through his teeth before spitting into his hand and stroking himself off languidly.

“Don’t stop, sweetheart. Keep touchin’ yourself for me, I wanna see how you like it…” the words were hummed low, squeaking a moan out of you with just the way he spoke to you alone. “Aww, did you like that, baby? Like the way I talk to you..?”

You bite your lip, swallowing back the noises and answering Bucky’s question in a profuse nod. Fingers still insistently tracing yourself to that sweet spot, you could feel the slow knot building in the pit of your tummy.

“Ah, ah, ah… If m’gonna talk, I wanna hear those sweet noises, babydoll. Sing for me,” Bucky cooes with a breathy chuckle, still fucking his fist on the length of his cock. Pre-come beading at the slit and making the tip glisten with the signs of his arousal.

“Oh, Bucky,” You wantonly mewl out, surprising yourself with how helpless you sound. Trailing your slick fingers down to press the tip of your middle finger into your weeping cunt. Experimentally pressing in, having been pent up for what felt likes ages and aching for relief.

“That’s it, baby,” Bucky’s hand begins to speed up over his aching cock; His thickness jerking in his palm whenever you make a particularly sweet noise. “Show me how you stuff that needy cunt; I wanna see how you - fuck - take care of yourself…”

You moan for Bucky; needy and high and airy. It just feeds into his own arousal as he jerks off across from you. His own groans deep and rough - Piercing gaze keeping you pinned to the couch. Unable to look away from the way Bucky’s gaze bore into you.

His eyes watch you expectantly; Waiting for you to do what he’s asked. You oblige.

Your fingers press knuckle-deep into your cunt; Experimentally thrusting into your channel and leaving your back to arch slightly off the arm of the couch.

“Oh,” you mewl out, fingers driving into your hole, stretching your tightness and leaving your arousal to spill out.

Bucky jerks his thick cock, hand sliding easily and the ministration made easier by the pre-come that spills over his fist. He shifts his hips, licking his lips and grinning at the way you fuck yourself open.

“Look at you, such a pretty baby,” Bucky breathes low between pants for air. “If I didn’t know any better I’d have thought you – mmh, god - were waitin’ for this. So eager to get that hole wet…”

The way Bucky talks to you makes your chest flutter. Your face feels hot, gasping as it drives the way you fuck your hole. Watching the up-stroke on Bucky’s cock - imagining the length sliding home into you and whimpering at the thought. Your eyes screw shut, the room filled with the slick sounds of your fingers in your hole.

“Oh no, babydoll, open those pretty eyes. I want you to watch me,” Bucky demands, and your eyes open on command. “Yeah, that’s it… Good baby, see this?” Bucky stops the stroking of his dick to let his fingers wrap around the girth and give a little tap of the tip to his thigh. Showing off the girth and his thick balls.

“Yeah, yeah this is all for you, honey. M’so hard for you, all for you…” The rumble of his voice was soothing as it was arousing.

“Bu-Bucky,” you squeak past trembling lips. Thighs softly quaking — Bucky’s words could get you off alone. Who knew he was such a filthy talker?

“I’m right here, sugar. ‘S okay, make yourself feel good. Don’t gotta hold back for nothin’, show me, pretty thing. I wanna see it all…” It’s permission if you’ve ever heard it, and suddenly at that moment, you realize how dependent Bucky’s say was over your building orgasm. As if your body knew it was waiting on his approval before you could let yourself come undone.

Your legs draw up to clench your thighs – Stopping yourself when you remember Bucky’s eyes are still fixed upon your flushed body. Watching the hypnotizing display of the quick work you made fingering your needy cunt while he relished int he display. Stroking his cock languidly before building up a pace that matched your own; Wanting to follow your arousal with you.

Just because you both weren’t touching doesn’t mean he couldn’t work with you.

It doesn’t take much; Not that it surprises you. You’d been pent up from the previous grinding into one another; hot and bothered by kisses that gave you a hint of what more could be like.

While your one hand is busy playing with your nub, your free hand smooths up to ruck up your shirt. Bucky’s dilated eyes light up even more when your hand moves under your top; Rolling a nipple between your fingers and drawing even more whorish noise from your swollen lips.

Bucky downright growls, hips arching subtly off the couch as he fucks up into his fist.

“Fuck, you like to play with your nipples, baby? Aww, bet you’re so sensitive… Mm, fuck, yea… M’gonna love gettin’ my hands on you when we’re ready. Gonna learn every nook n’ cranny of you; Wanna worship that pretty body of yours.”

He keeps talking like that; each word straight to your aching core and leaving you soaked. Bucky picks up on it in the way you get louder — noisier.

“You like that? Of course you do — who knew you were so fuckin’ filthy, sugar? Aw, m’gonna come, baby,” Bucky’s voice even until it begins to find a sense of urgency towards the end. A sharp breath from him, both of your hands moving while you watch one another. Pleasuring yourselves and being your most intimate selves; On display for one another.

Your jaw is slack, gasping and moaning out pitiful squeaks while you touch yourself. Bucky’s hand moves smoothly over his arousal, the sound of skin on skin as he jerks himself off.

“Oh, oh fuck, please, I-I’m gonna come, Bucky,” you cry out, and Bucky thumbs at the tip of his cock; wrist twisting towards the head.

“Come for me, baby. C-Cream all over your pretty fingers — come for me, come for me,” Bucky’s words drive you over the edge.

Your walls flutter emptily; begging to be filled as you come undone under your fingers. It’s cloud nine, riding out your high on your familiar fingers. Thighs trembling and soaked with your wetness, hips canting up into nothing as you finish on your fingers. Gasping and squealing out until you’re reduced to pathetic whimpers.

Bucky watches you all the while. Fucking his fist and growling out through his bared teeth when you come. Reaching his own orgasm and painting his fist in thick stripes of creamy white that you want to lick clean. He pants, face flushed as his cock spills his heavy load. Staining the denim of his jeans and leaving a mess (though he’s careful of the couch).

You both slump into the couch, still facing one another when the high has passed. Panting for air, the smell of sex and sweat heavy in the air. You’re the one to break the quiet with an airy giggle, which Bucky grinds widely in response to.

“Are you alright, honey..?” Bucky asks curiously, his own voice hoarse and quiet. “Perfect. How’s about a shower…? You’ve already seen me from the stomach down, I’ve already seen your dick. That’s practically all we have. Nothing to hide,” you offer with a roughness to your own voice, swallowing thickly. You smile, still lingering in the soft air of the post-orgasmic haze.

“Sounds perfect, baby. I’ll go get the shower runnin’, okay?” Bucky offers, tucking his mess back into his underwear (he won’t be wearing them much longer anyways). Scooting forward, he uses his clean hand to cup the back of your head and press a gentle kiss to your temple.

You nod with a soft, ‘mhm’. Enjoying the settling moment's peace and serenity despite the cooling wetness coating your thighs. Moving will be awful but it was well worth it.

Bucky certainly leaves an impression. Kicking off the evening with flowers and a ride to the art museum, strolling the halls lovingly with him while partaking in art, only to come back to your apartment and masturbate together. Bucky might be more full of surprises than you thought. You couldn’t be more excited.

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flordeamatista · 7 months

Text

𝗛𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗠𝗲 𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻

pairing: bull rider!bucky barnes x heiress!reader

concept: Passionate dusk pleasure covers you both with lust, spilling its mist through the night.

word count: 3k

warnings: best friends to lovers, ranch hand Bucky who works for reader's family, fluff, angst, smut (riding Bucky) soft kisses, nickname- Sweetheart

a/n: I created this fantasy daydream almost a year ago. Hopefully you'll love these other pretty men this fall/winter as well. Way Down We Go Masterlist

lovely beta: @writing-for-marvel and @lfnr-blog-blog-blog

line divider by the lovely @lfnr-blog-blog-blog and she made me the pngs

masterlist

Despite the danger of loss, time purifies something impure, but still wants to be touched.

He sees the world ticking off to every moment in life for him to be ready for the moment because you only have eight seconds to live.

Stepping up to the bull, Bucky felt its rage throbbing through its thick white hide. The creature looked mean, angry, and fierce as it pawed at the ground beneath it. It was ready to face its challenger, waiting for a chance to strike back at the man who dared to encroach on its territory.

Under its thick, white hide, the bull's muscles bulged, while steam hissed from its nostrils. Grasping the sticky rope with one hand and clutching his cowboy hat with the other, Bucky's heart raced. People held their breath in the thick air of tension.

Suddenly, a crackling roar filled the arena, like a thousand thunderclaps rolling across the sky.

One second.

Its horns aimed at the middle of the arena like deadly weapons, as the gates burst open, and the bull charged forward. The packed arena roared as the mighty bull rushed forward, its horns glittering in the moon’s light, and him riding it with the creature of the night.

Bucky's show.

Two seconds.

Terrified that he wouldn't make it to the end, his limbs quivered and his grip on the rope tightened. But then he remembered why he was doing this.

The love.

Three seconds.

He felt a faint warmth behind him, which when he glanced in its direction revealed you at the edge of the arena beaming with pride and waving your arms for encouragement. You came to see him. The applause grew louder and were about to roar even more when Bucky’s hold on the strap and his hat grew tighter.

Three words: Only for you.

Four seconds.

A sudden wave of power surged through Bucky's veins at the sight of you, giving him newfound strength and focus as he fought against being bucked off the wild beast beneath him.

Maintain his body's strength.

Five seconds.

The bull's fury was intensified by the crowd's jeers. The spectators continued to cheer wildly while Bucky remained atop the bull, wishing desperately that he could turn around and see whether or not you were still there.

Observe him, love him, sweetheart

Six seconds.

Bucky's cowboy hat was lifted off his head abruptly as he clung to the bull's back. His legs were spread wide, straddling the saddle and pinning him against its stiff leather surface. The force of the animal's bucking sent drops of sweat flying from his brow, into his sea-blue eyes, and down his throat. He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the rope before stretching out his free arm. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the bull's rhythm, his muscles quivering with each buck. Though he felt himself slipping, he was determined to keep going. He was desperate for any gust of air that could keep him in place.

With every muscle in his body, he willed it to remain still.

Seven seconds.

Bucky saw out of the corner of his eye that you were still there; leaning over one rail with your fist raised in triumph at his progress so far. With this last boost of courage, he made it through to eight seconds.

Bucky soared into the air and landed on his knees, facing you. Dedicated to the person who never seems to leave his mind, the wind knew where to land his two feet. The bull rushed towards him out of the corner of his eye. His attention was caught by clowns maneuvering the bull away from him. Several yards from the fence, his hat lay in the middle. His instincts pushed him forward, despite knowing it was potentially dangerous.

The danger of losing you would be worse if he didn't do it. Then he picked up his hat and bowed when his name sung.

With arms outstretched and legs pumping, he leapt through the open gate and sprinted towards you, where you stood watching.

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close. His warm breath caressed your ear as he whispered, “You know I won in eight seconds. I don't want money. I want eight kisses from the sweetest lips in the world." He placed his hat on your head. When he stared straight at you, the glint in his blue eyes revealed something very lustful. A smirk spreads across his face as he licks his lips and walks away.

Electricity flowed between you. The air was electric with anticipation and excitement, as your heart raced. You had been moved by Bucky Barnes' first kiss, which made crossing lines with a best friend harder every day.

You want more kisses, and you want to give him more than eight.

Just as the sun began to glow over the horizon, pink hues were cast over the still landscape. Morning mist hung in the air, the cooling feeling kissing his skin.

A warm, orange sunrise tints his cheeks as he gazes at you in your bedroom, from his hiding spot on your balcony. Taking a breath, he opens the french glass door. A smile spreads over his lips as a breeze blows past him.

A single rose nestled between his fingers looked delicate compared to his strong hands.

Taking a deep breath, he bent forward and placed the flower next to your pillow.

With a whisper of wind, he left his love as he left the room.

Dreams and kisses make one 'I love you' form in his eyes when they are merged from your lips.

The air was heavy with humidity and the sky was painted with orange, pink, and tangerine hues. The light that reflected off the shimmering shadows around you slowly sank below the horizon as you.

A glass of red wine in one hand, you watched from your balcony as he emerged from the hills after working in the stables. Shirtless, he headed up to a spotlight near the tree line, pulling off his glove before running his fingers through his hair.

The soft petals caressed your fingertips as you slowly sank down into the mattress, a smile pulling at your lips as you felt the sudden rush of adrenaline, as if the night whispered in the breeze that things were going to be different from now on. He had given you proof of his love, and now all he wanted was for you to take what he'd offered, to hold onto it with him and keep it by your side forevermore. He knew better than anyone about one thing: love can never be separated from you, no matter how much the air around you sings out to carry his love with you.

In order to embrace this step in your friendship, it took more than just time; it required action as well. He gave you an exit that allowed you to see and feel his love without being forced to confront him; he left his words in this letter, giving you the upper hand.

Taking a moment to savor the memories of the day Bucky entered your life was a joy you recorded. The soft voices of joy and the ever-growing bond between you were evident. A giggle escaped your lips as you ran your fingers over the rose's velvety petals. When it comes to your feelings, he is the heart of it.

You can only watch for so long before dreaming of running your fingers through his hair. Pulling off his shirt, he stripped in front of a spotlight, showing off his body to nature. The sun highlighted his silhouette as he walked closer, to reveal tan skin adorned with sweat and dirt.

The purpose of being outside is to tease him since he sees you. It's not like you walked from that spot to see if he could glance through your window or balcony. You were playing this game of riding with soft gazes, teasing.

You knew that it was wrong to play a game like this, but you couldn't help yourself. In your position, no one played games with the employees, but who has the authority to tell you no. Your body felt a burning sensation as it encounters the one person that makes it feel the meaning of lust and desire.

You felt your heart flutter as you realized what he meant. You wanted to tell him, but the words stuck in your throat. You know you crossed the line that night but what happens if you cross the line every night?

Your family was left speechless when Bucky declined the prize money, saying he wanted something more precious than money asking only for a single rose.

To him, you were the most valuable flower in the world.

The fire inside of me is being built patiently and carefully by you, and I eagerly anticipate the day when it is fully ignited.

Seeing you from the balcony, he stepped closer to get a better glimpse of you from below and saw your fingers tug at the brim of his hat.

His blue eyes darkened, he called your name with a moan. To give him a little show, you slowly unbuttoned your blouse by sliding the buttons through their tiny loops. His eyes were fixed on you intently, watching every move you made. Shadows were cast on the wall behind you as the last sun rays glinted off your exposed skin. As the light faded, you stood proudly.

There was a whisper of wind around the two of you.

You both watched each other attentively.

To the sound of rushing air, he waited patiently while you undid them slowly. When you approached the railing closer to your balcony, your blouse fell to the floor. It was hard not to smirk at his eyes that roamed around you and looked behind him to ensure no one could see this beautiful painting he was seeing.

To start time, you blew him a kiss and yelled, "One".

Time was ticking away, and if he didn't act quickly, his chance would be gone.

You caught his gaze in surprise. As the cool stone of the wall pressed against his hands and feet, he realized it wasn't a dream, but reality.

You steady yourself on the door frame with one hand while the other grasps the blinds. He heard you yell "Two!"

A journey was being set out, and he was determined to follow it wherever it led. The power of your kiss drove him to scale the wall.

Not like last time. Last time he lost his opportunity.

Love remains, despite time's passing.

Bucky saw you sob that night, tears dripping down your face as your ex-boyfriend’s words sunk in. You were nothing more than an object to him, and he told you so.

His hands were strong and calloused as he grabbed yours, yet his touch was gentle and caressing. As he smiled, his eyes showed respect, love, security, safety, and patience. When he released your hands, his fingertips gently touched the side of your face before finding your lips.

Slowly and deliberately, the kiss deepened with an intensity that left you both trembling.

But you ran. You left.

The next morning you ran to leave abroad, and all he could do was watch you go.

From that point forward, he devoted himself to becoming the kind of man who deserved someone like you in his life. In spite of all the advances he received, he refused to accept any of them.

The memories of the day you left melt my heart, I will never be able to forget you, I feel the nights so cold without you, and I keep hoping that I'll see you again soon

This is because he knew your kiss was the only one capable of bringing him the same amount of happiness. He worked hard at your parents' ranch until he was the star.

He waited to taste your lips again.

And now he gets that opportunity.

Bucky's strong hands gently yet firmly grasped your waist; the warmth of his touch sent a tingling sensation up your spine. He turned you around so that you faced him, the blue eyes you had imagined finally appearing before you. All the laughter, knowing you could always rely on him as a friend, him wanting to be yours, and you wanting to be his.

Moving closer, he inhaled slowly, as if stalking his prey. His lips parted a little as he took in all of you.

His chest glistened in the light like a pane of glass, and his chest was covered with streams of sweat, reflecting the light like tiny diamonds. His touch was like a caress of liquid fire on your body, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins. You clung to his neck tightly, wanting to stay there forever.

You knew why he'd reprimanded you for being sassy earlier—but when he looked at you with such hunger and desire, it felt like something greater was at stake.

Before yesterday, Bucky always stood by you, and he will stand by you tomorrow as well.

In a whisper, he spoke four simple words: “My lips need kisses."

You smiled to yourself and replied softly, "Let me finish counting. Three!”

His warm fingertips traced delicate circles on your neck nape as his hands reached your shoulders. You felt a sense of security as he gently yet firmly held your hand in his, and then delicately kissed its soft surface. With eyes closed and breath held, you savored the tender sensation of his lips on your skin.

He smirked as you open your eyes and see him. "Four seconds left," he says.

As you stand close to him, he moves down to kiss your lips and instead moves to your check. Grabbing your throat, "Five, pretty boy," you tease him. You felt the heat of his breath tickle your earlobe as he hummed softly before placing a gentle bite just below your collarbone.

You opened your eyes and saw him licking his lips, a smirk playing across the corners of his mouth as he seemed to revel in the quiet. Through the still air, you heard your own soft whisper, "Six! You're running out of time Bucky. What's happened to winning?"

His thumb shifted under your chin, tilting it towards him.

"Seven!" you softly whisper into the air.

A gentle touch, a kiss, a rush, a flame ignited, an unstoppable passion.

His mouth suddenly slams into yours, and you felt his tongue sliding into your mouth as he parted his lips. Moaning into the kiss, you felt him deepening it and he is wet, messy, and desperate.

In that moment, everything else melted away; the heat of the moment, the rush of desire; it's the kiss that ignites your heart.

"Think you can handle another one, Sweetheart?" he hummed between your lips.

"Bucky, you win. You've got it all, and all the kisses."

A passionate lust for him consumed you, and you cannot resist it. You reach for his face and pull him in for a second intense ferocious kiss. You let him inhale every kiss from your lips into his. Your gaze flitted over his eyes and you saw the reflection of desire and hunger.

“I'm gonna ride you, Mr. Cowboy” you whispered breathlessly.

A smile spreads across his face as he hugs you, and you giggle into the room.

Passionate dusk pleasure covers you both with lust, spilling its mist through the night.

“Ride me, Sweetheart”

Straddling Bucky's hips, you slowly lowered yourself onto him. His thickness filled every part of you and you couldn't help but moan in pleasure at the sensation. His hands moved up to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled you deeper into him. With each passing moment, you both developed a deep connection; you long to ride every move with him and share every emotion. A wet tongue lapped against the tips of Bucky's fingers and wet fingers running all over your body, sending vibrations throughout. Teasing you as he marked every inch of you.

"You're such a fucking tease, you know that?" you moaned softly as you felt the electric shock pass through every inch of your skin as you kept moving yourself towards him. His gaze was hot on yours as he watched every second of this blissful ecstasy. Taking your time, you savored and you reached the point of perfection together. He swept his eyes over every inch of your skin, sending electric shocks through your body that increased with every move.

You were pinned beneath him as he spun around with your hands in his. He brushed your forehead sweat with his lips and whispered into your mouth, "Sweetheart, you feel so good. From kisses to orgasms, everything is yours, and so am I." With a tender kiss, he mumbled, "I belong to you, too."

Your feelings for Bucky were clear from this moment on; you could not bear to be apart from him. In the midst of this shifting world, you might be this lady, but all you wanted to do is ride your rider from sunset to sunrise.

Today, tomorrow, and wherever my kisses of love can lead, I dedicate my entire life to showing you my love.

727 notes · View notes

eviesaurusrex · 9 months

Text

—ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ | ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋʏ

GIFs not mine!

summary: Perfect moments with their best girl.

word count: 5.5k ooooopsie

warnings: nothing, tooth-rotting fluff because these two deserve the world, kissing, two big, strong men being softies for their girl, but also sometimes in overprotective mode, reader is described as shorter than them, allusion to smutty smut and lingerie, short make-out session, an ex is making a short appearance, not entirely proofread

author’s note: I’ve never written something for Stucky, but thanks to tumblr, I’ve shipped them for a very long time and had to do this, so here we are. Don’t hate me for this being utter shit, thanks.

* * *

Sunny days were her favorites. So, sunny days were naturally entirely reserved for her when everyone had gotten time off missions. When the weather forecast predicted sunny days ahead, Steve and Bucky did everything to try and get these days off, especially when the weeks lying behind them had been filled with rain and clouds.

Their best girl was a vitamin D junkie, so they became vitamin D junkies as well.

Her sigh, full of contentment, let hearts flutter as Bucky watched the woman they loved bathing in the warming rays of sunshine, his shades perched on her pretty nose. Nothing of her wasn’t pretty, especially when the sun tickled her skin and let her seem as radiant as the burning star itself.

She had her arms crossed under her head, an opened novel resting on her slowly moving chest, her pretty lips slightly parted, and her eyes closed behind the tinted glass. At the sight of her relaxed state of mind, cruel but crucial missions finally somewhere in the very back of her head, Bucky couldn’t stop himself. Staring wasn’t enough to satisfy his craving at that particular moment, and he bent his head to press a sweet kiss to her even sweeter-tasting lips, humming in amusement at the little gasp leaving her mouth before she herself hummed in contentment and kissed him back.

“What was that for?” YN asked, eyes now opened to stare up at the handsome brunet looming over her as he still was propped up on his arm right next to her on the picnic blanket they had placed somewhere in Central Park near the lake. He started playing with strands of her hair and shrugged one shoulder, a breathtaking smile slowly stretching over his face, even reaching his pretty blue eyes and making them sparkle with happiness. “Nothin’, doll. Just felt like kissin’ ya,” Bucky mumbled close to her lips after he had bent down again, but Steve’s voice made him stop a mere millimeter apart from her. “Already startin’ without me even though I got’ya some food and iced coffee on my way here? Rude.” But his smile told something else.

Pushing Bucky off of her with a hand pressed against his chest, YN reached up as soon as the blond super soldier had knelt on their blanket and tangled her fingers in the neckline of his light blue shirt. “He started,” she whispered conspiratorially with a giggle, well knowing that the other super soldier could hear her words just perfectly. His quiet scoff just underlined it. But Steve only grinned happily and obliged without so much as a second thought as YN pulled him downward to her face and kissed him Hello. “You said something about iced coffee, if I remember correctly?” He hummed in approval and reached for the paper cup holder to get her current favorite summer drink. “Couldn’t let you enjoy the day without it.” Another kiss came close after before his blue eyes followed YN’s movements as she grabbed the cup, took a deep sip, and lay back down again, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest.

Steve followed close by, putting down the food and the other two drinks he had gotten for them, and settled on her other side onto the blanket, his long legs stretched out and crossed at his ankles. Bucky smiled at him over their best girl’s body and couldn’t stop himself from bending over YN to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s cheek, grinning at the blush creeping up into his cheeks, still not used to the openly shown affection from either of them. It was like a dream, and he loved how his life had turned—how all their lives had turned.

YN had watched her two lovesick men with a gentle smile before littering both their handsome faces with kisses until it was her who was showered in kisses, turning her into a giggling mess underneath the sun. They ignored every single look thrown their way, not caring for the people and their silly thoughts because they were as happy as probably humanely possible. They bathed in her adorable sounds, savored every single touch of her skin, and every single look and smile she showed them.

“How’s our sun girl today,” Steve mumbled against her lips, feeling Bucky’s fingers carding through his hair and YN’s thumb caressing his cheek, her smiling lips pressing almost open-mouthed kisses to his. “Perfectly and utterly content.” It was only a sighed whisper, but it was enough to make both their hearts flutter again. It still was a somewhat adrenaline rush to realize how happy they made this woman, how lucky they’ve been that she loved them both, just as they both loved her. It still continued to blow their minds how open they could be nowadays, how little the majority of people cared when they saw the trio strolling through the city, sharing kisses, holding hands, walking as closely next to one another as possible. Sometimes, Steve just had to think that all this was nothing but a dream and that he would wake up any minute now, back in his sickly body and his loved ones entirely out of reach.

“Hey.”

Bucky drew him out of his mind and back to their cozy little spot in Central Park, blue eyes meeting blue eyes, dark brows worryingly drawn together. The blond super soldier only shook his head slightly, a smile tucking at the corner of his mouth as he looked from one worried face to another, swiftly pressing easing kisses to both their cheeks. “It’s alright. I’m okay. Jus’ tired and too much in my head. Wanna try one of these loaded donuts I found on my way?” YN squealed at that and sat up faster than both men would’ve considered possible, smiling at one another behind her back before following close to at least get a single bite of those treats before they vanished right before their eyes.

Sometimes, this woman really blew their minds.

* * *

It was already dark outside; the night stretching across the window-covered wall of their shared room at the compound, and the moon shining brightly into the dimly lit bedroom. Steve was lying on his side of the massive and custom-manufactured bed Tony had gifted them last Christmas after he had been tired of hearing YN groan and whine about the little space she had between two buffed super soldiers. Now, she was sprawled like a cute little sea star over him and the rest of the bed, almost seemingly covering every bit and appearing a lot taller than she actually was compared to the two men she called the loves of her life. Steve sometimes had to ask himself how she managed to cover basically every inch of the bed while also being sprawled atop their bodies, and some nights even managed to fall out of the bed.

This woman was an enigma to him, but Steve loved her even more for that. It didn’t matter that some nights he felt a foot or an elbow in his ribs or that Bucky always woke him when he single-handedly manhandled YN back into her designated spot of their bed without paying attention to where Steve was sleeping. Even if he could change everything, he wouldn’t change a single thing. This was what he’d always wanted back in the days, what he envied people for. It simply was perfection.

One of his large hands softly and lovingly drew indescribable patterns on YN’s partly exposed skin, his other hand holding the novel he was currently reading after she had bought it during one of their many dates in the city. It was her love language—picking books and gifting them. And Steve happily obliged and started reading it right away. His eyes couldn’t leave the words on the pages, already deeply enraptured by the story unfolding in front of his eyes, head sometimes dipping to his right to press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. Her slow but deep breathing was the only sound except for his in the room, and in his eyes, it was the only thing he’d ever need in his life—that and Bucky’s heartbeat next to hers when they all drifted off to sleep.

Suddenly, he felt YN moving more in her sleep, her fingers grasping his shirt like a lifeline, and a small whimper escaped her lips, brows deeply furrowed. He let the book rest on the blanket thrown over both of them and started humming the tune of one of her favorite songs while also pressing feather-light kisses to her forehead, trying to pull her unconsciousness out of the bad dream and back to something bright and joyful. And it worked like a charm, just as it always did, and soon, YN rested unmoving against his chest again, her breathing back to the long deep breaths of deep slumber.

Steve picked up his book where he had left off, only to let his motion stop midair as his eyes found Bucky leaning against the doorframe, watching his two people with a small smile on his lips. “Bad dream again?” The blond nodded and put the book on the nightstand. “They come and go as they please.” Bucky had more experience with them than he had, so he just nodded in understanding and walked over to them. His duffel bag leaned against the wall as he sat down on Steve’s bedside, hands finding together and holding tightly onto one another. The brunet kissed the blond first before pressing a lingering kiss to YN’s forehead, sighing deeply as their familiar scent enveloped him and soothed his mind. “I’m too tired to take a shower, but she’ll tell me a piece of her mind when she wakes up and realizes I climbed into bed in my tactical gear,” Bucky groaned quietly, head resting at Steve’s shoulder, but then chuckled and pushed himself back up after he had felt a kiss to his temple. The Rogers grinned at that.

Yes, they were decades-old super soldiers and fought off the most dangerous people on this planet, but they feared the wrath of this tiny, delicate woman more than anything else in this world. And they never liked to upset her in the first place.

“Just a quick rinse. It’ll make you feel better,” Steve nudged Bucky gently and smiled lovingly at his deep sigh, watching his shoulders slump down and his body succumbing to the exhaustion after a mission. “Only a quick one. And only because I love you two.” With that, Bucky let his hand wander into Steve’s neck and pulled him towards him, but only so much as not to disturb YN in her much-needed sleep, and exhaled slowly as he felt their lips touching. “I could join you,” Steve mumbled into the kiss, feeling excitement rushing through his body at the thought alone, but knew Bucky would shake his head even before he actually did it. “You need to take care of our girl here. Y’know how easily she wakes up when no one is next to her.” Then, he smirked and kissed Steve slowly and languidly. “Remember, we have the entire weekend to ourselves. Just the three of us in here, unoccupied time. The little something I found for her should arrive tomorrow.” Steve’s breath hitched in his throat as the memory of a night spent online shopping moved back into his mind, accompanied by the mere anticipation he had felt when Bucky had found the scandalous piece they both knew she would love—until it would be on the floor, probably in lacey shreds.

Bucky chuckled as Steve finally pushed him off the bed. “Go and take a shower, sarge. I know someone is in need of her big spoon.” And he was right because as the other man climbed into their bed and pressed his chest against her back, YN smiled in her sleep and wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, nuzzling closer into each of her super soldiers, the bad dreams entirely gone for the night.

* * *

Choreomania echoed through the still empty apartment somewhere in Brooklyn, the sun filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, facing Prospect Park in its green beauty. YN hummed and sang along to the vinyl of Florence + The Machine, wearing an old pair of sweatpants—she wasn’t even sure who they belonged to, either Steve or Bucky—and an old tank top, and now, after hours filled with painting the walls, she was covered in paint splotches, her fingers raw from removing the old wallpaper meticulously, so she could paint the walls just like they preferred.

This would be their home. This would be their safe space. This would be the home of their family. And therefore, it had to simply be perfect. And that’s why YN was already in here, already working hard for their dream home to become a reality instead of a fleeting image in their heads, even though they had decided to do this together after Steve’s and Bucky’s last mission for the month. But she couldn’t wait. She wasn’t able to sit around at the compound, reading her books and watching her shows when she already had all the time possible at hand to do something.

Dipping the painter’s roll back into the color, YN quickly climbed the ladder to check the painter’s tape one last time, only to rearrange and re-stick it again. She was satisfied with the result after the adjustment; the blue tape line was now perfectly even, and the wall was ready to be painted. With a nod, the Avenger started to climb down the metal ladder, only to slip off it on her sock-clad feet. A shriek thought its way out of her throat as she felt herself falling and following earth’s gravitational forces until a pair of strong arms caught her mid-air and pressed her against a broad chest.

“Woah there, doll,” Bucky’s voice murmured close to her ear, and instinctively, YN’s arms circled his neck. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’ here all by yourself, hm?” She searched his crystal blue eyes with her own and shrugged, almost helplessly, at the sight of his worried gaze and his scrunched-up brows. YN couldn’t even get a word out of her mouth because suddenly, heavy steps echoed through the hallway, and Steve entered the living room, brows just as worriedly furrowed as his boyfriend’s. “What happened?” Immediately, he let go of the bags he had carried, letting them tumble to the hardwood floor just as she had almost done and hurried himself over to the pair, his eyes already scanning for possible injuries before his hands followed. They softly wandered over her arms and her legs, and Bucky let his hand feel her back up and down, only to hum, satisfied when she didn’t flinch in pain.

YN shrugged again and looked from one high-towering super soldier to the other. “I thought I could start on the walls already while you two are still in Prague.” Now that she thought about it… “What are you two doing here, anyway? You weren’t supposed to be back until, what? The day after tomorrow?” Then, she had to add: “I don’t mean I’m not excited to have you back already, in one piece, because I am—excited. Welcome home.” Her eyes almost teared up when she first pulled Steve down at his neck and kissed his soft lips gently before turning her head to Bucky and kissing him just as lovingly. The two soldiers smiled softly down at the woman between them, still lying in Bucky’s arms, and recognized the feeling swirling inside them instantly: pure happiness and domestic bliss.

“You should’ve waited for us, baby girl,” Steve muttered after the brunet had sat her back on her feet, and he had the opportunity to take a gentle hold of her hands. The delicate tips of her fingers were an angry red, her skin plastered in probably toxic paint, and the grumble of her stomach had been heard by the two men downstairs when they first arrived at their new home. “I’m fine. It’s nothing, really, Stevie. The mustard-yellow wallpaper just put up a harder fight than anticipated, but I conquered it.” Her proud grin warmed the two men from the inside, and Bucky wrapped his arms around her shoulders, propping his chin atop her head. “Well, that fight must’ve been a sight to behold,” he chuckled before his metal thumb started to draw circles into her upper arm. “But I think someone forgot to look after herself, so you’ll take a break now and eat something while we’re dealing with the walls. Alright, doll?”

Quietly muttering, YN obliged and nodded because she knew this wasn’t a fight she could ever win. Steve and Bucky were too protective for that, too worried about her well-being to let her have her way now. So she let these two settle her on their folded jackets, back propped up against the wooden passage frame, and takeout from her favorite Chinese restaurant in hands. Her eyes never left them, watching them as they quickly tried to wipe her skin clean of the smelly paint before pressing kisses to her face, reminding her to eat her lunch, and went to work.

They stared at her progress for a moment, trying to figure out what her vision had been for their living room, before grabbing the painter’s rolls and rolling off the excess paint in the plastic bins. “You did such a great job, doll.” Bucky smiled over at her, his heart aching beautifully as he watched his best girl starting to smile radiantly with the chopsticks between her lips, and he was sure she had never been more beautiful than now. “Oh, definitely. This will be done before you finish your food,” Steve added to the praise, smiling himself, as he started to paint the first wall while Bucky climbed the ladder to treat the bare wooden planks with oil.

“You two should do this all day, every day. You look hot renovating our home.” The words were almost swallowed by the bite of Chinese takeout and chopsticks still in her mouth, and YN felt her cheeks blushing when they both turned and looked over at her. “Oh, yeah? Maybe we should take off our shirts then, baby girl?” Steve wiggled his blond brows teasingly, and a laugh escaped him, head thrown back, as YN bombarded him with a napkin. “Don’t you dare. See that window over there?” She pointed to the window at one of the sides, facing the house on the other side of the street. “That woman living there already ogled you two when we first went here. It obviously doesn’t matter that she’s married, but you don’t have to fuel her ego or whatever.”

Quietly grumbling, YN stared down into the box of takeout, the urgent feeling of hiding her two boyfriends from the world almost overwhelming again. Sometimes, she couldn’t help herself and felt overly protective of them, and sometimes even jealous, especially when women tried to take them away from her. It was stupid, she knew that because she knew that these two would never leave her—and neither would she. The thought alone hurt. But sometimes, her brain morphed back to the state of mind she had before them when men always only played with her and never meant what they said. Steve and Bucky changed that, changed her. And now, she was certain that these men would never dump her.

YN didn’t realize the lack of sounds—the wet noises of even wetter paint against a dry wall and the occasionally rusty sound of the ladder when it ached under Bucky’s weight—too focused on munching on her food to distract her mind and think about anything but that awful woman on the other side of the road. She didn’t even hear the sounds of heavy steps creeping closer to her sitting form, and she only realized how close they were when Steve lifted her off the ground and into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips and carrying her over to the aforementioned window. The woman felt the glass pressed against her back, and she swallowed the last bite down, cocking one brow at their antics. Bucky had settled himself right next to them, leaning sideways against the wall next to the window and letting his hand cup her cheek.

Switching between their faces, YN looked from one to the other, both brows now almost touching her hairline, and her head cocked to the side questioningly. “What are you doing?” Her voice sounded more breathless than initially planned, and her lips parted slightly when Steve turned his attention to her exposed sensitive neck, softly breathing against it before kissing it languidly. “We can’t have our doll being all broody and jealous,” Bucky whispered in Steve’s place, his thumb slowly caressing the skin over her cheekbone. “We can’t have our best and only girl think that stares of some woman would let us react in any way possible.” Now he bent his head to start kissing from her collarbone upwards to her chin, slowly and teasingly. “Need to show that woman who we belong to.” Steve hummed in agreement before he nibbled at her most sensitive spot, gently sucking the skin between his lips, and chuckled when he heard the familiar sound of a gasp of air. “And we only belong to one woman,” he finally mumbled, lips pressed against lips, kissing her like a man possessed, before he backed off to let Bucky get his turn with their girl. He kissed her like a man starved, all tongue and teeth until they both needed oxygen and parted with labored breaths, all the while Steve had his chin propped up on her shoulder, eyes staring contently out the window and occasionally kissing her neck.

“I think that woman will never look at us again, baby girl.”

* * *

Following her through her favorite bookshop was a simple task—and a simple pleasure. They loved to watch their girl strolling through the aisles, her eyes wandering over the colorful book covers in different designs and art styles, stopping more as she actually walked, always a new book in sight that had picked her interest and curiosity. They followed her like two broad shadows, always shielding her from the outside world because they knew how much she needed those hours of mindless strolling and discovering.

YN stopped again at that moment, eyes wandering over the entire length of the bookshelf until they stopped at a book in the top half of the shelf. Pressing herself onto the tiptoes, she tried to reach it, but still, she was too short. With a huff, the woman lowered herself again and turned to her two boyfriends, looking up at them with big, round, pleading eyes, even though YN knew very well that she didn’t need to beg. “Could you…?” She couldn’t even get the entire question out before Bucky was right at her side, one of his big hands resting on the small of her back. “Which one, doll?” Her finger instantly stretched out and pointed to a blue and purple book spine which the brunet grabbed without any signs of effort and handed it to her with a smile and a kiss to her lips. “Thank you, baby,” she grinned up at him before reading the blurb on the back of the book and decided to give it a new home on her bookshelf.

Finding its way into the crook of her elbow, YN continued down the aisles and didn’t even have to turn and ask one of them to grab her another book because both men knew that title by heart now. And it was the main reason they headed to the shop today. Steve pressed himself against her back as he took it from the shelf, one hand resting on her shoulder and lovingly squeezing it, his lips wandering from exposed shoulder to her neck. He reveled in the sounds of her soft giggles and grinned against her skin when she whispered a Thanks, Stevie, when she gathered the third book of her favorite series in her arms. “Any time, baby girl.” It was only a soft whisper against the nape of her neck before Steve took a step back for her to continue her strolling and gathered Bucky’s hand in his to intertwine their fingers.

“We will leave a tremendous amount of money again,” he chuckled as they watched their girl picking up two other books and piling them in her arm, and Steve laughed softly at that. “Try and see it as a donation and continued support of local businesses,” the blond countered, the grin still on his face as he nudged Bucky’s side lovingly with his arm. “At least we earn enough to keep up with her small book addiction.” Steve threw Bucky a look at that and couldn’t contain his laugh as the brunet winked at him and pulled him closer to his side to press a kiss to his lips. “Just wait for what books she picked out for us again. We still need you to let go of The Hobbit for a while,” teased Steve, a bubbling laugh bursting out of him when Bucky nudged his side now and rolled his eyes at him. “Yeah yeah, whatever.”

But then, he stopped for a moment as he looked in the aisles ahead of them—the empty aisles ahead of them. “Where did she go?” It was common for them to lose YN at some point, but it never happened so quickly and without either of them realizing it until it was too late. Steve softly rubbed his shoulder when he felt Bucky’s anxiety getting the best of him. “She’s probably just around the corner in the next aisles, Buck. Remember the list she wrote and forgot on the coffee table? She should be somewhere left of us now. C’mon.” Lovingly, Steve coaxed him to come with him, well knowing how Bucky tended to think the worst when YN just disappeared, still not entirely processing the fact that Hydra was destroyed and no one would ever come for her again.

But when they rounded the shelf and looked into the aisles where Steve had thought YN must be by now, only to not find her there, even his heart skipped a couple of beats. Bucky swallowed thickly next to him, his eyes jumping from one face to another, trying to find her between the shopping people. “It’s okay, Buck. See?” He pointed to the books and the sign reading Non-Fiction hanging above the bookshelf. “They reorganized. She took a right turn then. Okay?” The brunet inhaled deeply and nodded slowly, still not fully convinced. “Let’s find our girl before she raids the entire store,” Steve tried to lighten the mood when he pulled Bucky with him, only to pick up YN’s voice in the aforementioned right aisles.

“What do you want, Chandler? You see, I’m busy buying books which is way more important than your sorry ass. So… Off you go.”

Both super soldiers stopped at the crossing and stared the man down who had the audacity to cheat on this gorgeous woman in front of them. He never deserved her, and they had picked up the pieces he had left and built her up again. And now, he had the audacity to talk to her, to even breathe the same air as she did.

“Chandler.” Bucky’s voice was as deep as it gets, sending chills down every spine of every person who never heard the growl before. But Chandler was too stupid to sense the danger he found himself in because he had dared to talk to her. His eyes moved from them to YN before he chuckled lowly. “So, it’s true? You not only sleep with one but two of them? Or are you just a spectator when they’re at it?” Steve grabbed the shoulder of his boyfriend to hold him back, even if he felt like punching that idiot himself, especially when he leaned closer to her than they both liked. “Always knew you’re a fucking freak.”

They both were on their way to beat the hell out of him, but YN beat them to it. She let go of her books, only for the stack to softly levitate in the air instead of following the gravitational laws of this planet, and with one hand, she grabbed Chandler’s neck and pushed him against the bookshelf with astonishing ease. He gulped and looked helplessly at the two men, trying to get their help, but they just watched their girl being the badass they knew she was. “Listen, dumbass. You can insult me all you want because I couldn’t care less for your opinion about me, but—“ YN let her fingers grip tighter until he had trouble getting enough oxygen into his lungs. “—but don’t you dare and insult my men. I don’t take those lightly. Are we clear?” He nodded quickly, and she let go of him, a radiant smile now on her face. “Perfect. Then off you go now. Go go. Your little dolly is waiting over there, round eyes and all. You should check on her. That’s what you always could do best anyway.”

With a barely seen flick of her wrist, the books landed in her arm again, and with another smile, she turned to her two boyfriends, staring proudly down at her in her pretty sundress and her new possessions in hand. “I think I got everything I need for now,” she smiled up at them and let Steve grab the piling stack of books out of her arms to carry it for her.

Bucky pulled her into his side, his arm thrown over her shoulders and lips pressing kiss after kiss to the crown of her head as they followed Steve to the counter. “You didn’t have to do this, doll.” It was only a mumble, and YN almost didn’t hear it but caught up to it just in time to look up at him and wrap both arms around his middle. “Yes, I had to. No one is talking like that about my boys in front of me, ever. You wouldn’t take shit about me either, won’t you? You wouldn’t allow it.” He stopped to wrap both arms around his best girl and pulled her into his chest, bending his head to kiss both her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “You know we would never take anyone’s shit about you, doll. Never. Even if it’s minor, we would step in and stop it.” The thought alone that anyone would hurt her, physically or mentally, almost broke him. No, they would always protect their best girl; the cost didn't matter. It would always be them against the entire world.

Her smile illuminated the shop, and he oh so willingly let his face get pulled down by her fingers wrapped around his chin to be kissed once again. He would never get enough of her, either. “See?” She now grinned and grumbling, he caved and nodded. “Okay, Okay, I see your point, doll,” he finally muttered, a smile tucking at his lips nonetheless because he could never be mad at her.

Giggling, YN received the paper bag full of new books—even though she still had piles over piles of TBRs waiting at home—and let Bucky take it out of her hands, so she could walk in between her two super soldiers and hold each of their hands. But instead of following them on their familiar route after a successful book shopping tour, she gently but urgently pulled at their hands to make them turn right instead of left. Steve furrowed his brows and looked down at her, not really knowing what was wrong. “Baby girl? The coffee shop is this way.” He already softly pulled at her hand, always having his strength in check. “But I don’t wanna go there,” she started, and immediately, both grew worried again. It wasn’t like her not wanting her iced coffee alongside her new books, so she could sit in the sun and start reading. Steve’s thoughts already wandered to the bookshop situation, blaming it on Chandler and wanting to beat him up just like the boys back in the day beat him up. “If it’s because of him, we’ll make sure that he leaves if he’s even there,” Steve promised with an undertone, ready to move heaven and earth for their woman, but the shake of her head stopped him right there. “No! No, I just wanna… Well, maybe it’s because of him, but not because I’m upset about it, but because you are clearly upset about it. So, I just wanna head home, order some food, and read in bed while cuddling with you. Would that be alright?”

She looked from one towering man to the other and let her eyes fall shut as they both pulled her in, wrapping her in their wonderfully tight hugs. She let them kiss her in the middle of the sidewalk and felt loved and cherished to an extent that wasn’t possible before Steve and Bucky entered her life.

“Of course, doll.”

“Whatever you want, baby girl.”

But deep down, Bucky and Steve couldn’t get over the fact how perfect their best girl was.

* * *

Thank you for reading (even though it wasn’t the best thing ever written)! As usual: reblogs would be absolutely great, just as overall love for this piece, and I’d love to read whatever you thought while reading!

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 9 months

Text

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Word count : 2.4k

Warnings: smut

It was rare for you to fall asleep like this, in a tangled mess of limbs. Bucky was a furnace, emanating heat from every inch of his body which often left you feeling too uncomfortable to sleep. It had taken a long time for Bucky to let his guard down when he came to sleep. The dreams that plagued his unconscious form left him in a heightened state of anxiety and he worried how it might affect you. He hadn't quite found the words to express how much he cared about you, afraid of the frailty of life and the fleeting nature of love.

He enjoyed intimacy but he very much appreciated his space in bed, occasionally slipping away to sleep on the floor. So you felt very much surprised to find him spooning your back, his arm draped across your torso and one of his legs hooked between your thighs.

It was 3am and you weren't sure what had woken you, but you supposed it was the almost suffocating grip your boyfriend had around your chest. For several moments, you lay still, contemplating the best way to extricate yourself from his grasp without waking him. An answer came in the form of your name, mumbled in your ear almost incoherently by Bucky.

Turning to face him, you whispered back to him. "Buck?"

No answer. Except for a few deep breaths which puffed warm air across your face, there was silence.

Had you imagined it?

You turned away, wriggling like a mouse trying to free itself from a python's hold. Bucky groaned and you froze, breath held anxiously until you were confident that he was still in a state of slumber. You were stuck. It was hardly something to complain about, being cradled in the arms of a man who was enchanted by your very being.

The clock in your room ticked away faithfully, intermingled with the sounds of the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest. You closed your eyes, starting to drift off to the melody of your bed chamber.

Another loud groan from Bucky made your eyes fly open. Was he sick? In pain? You twisted around to peer at his face in the dark. In a futile attempt, you reached out to find your glasses, but they were miles from your reach.

"Buck?" you called softly, squinting at his face through the darkness. The lines of his face were mildly lit by the moonlight which crept through a crack in the blinds and as your eyes adjusted to the night you found a softness in his features which only came with sleep.

As you stared, his lips parted gently and uttered your name in a breathy moan. He was dreaming. Of you. For a second he stirred, only to tighten his grasp and pull closer towards you. It was only then that you noticed that he was more alert than you'd originally suspected.

It wasn't just his leg you could feel pushed against your thigh. Your sleeping super soldier had an undeniable hard on. You smirked, that must be some dream he was having!

You waited, wondering whether to wake him or not. But as time ticked on, the sizable tent in his boxers was not diminishing, in fact, his erection was swelling and pushing against your ass. Even in his sleep, Bucky muttered quietly, mostly things you couldn't make out, but one phrase caught your attention. "I want you."

The lust in his words, still thick with sleep, filled you with a sudden and carnal urge. It lit a fire in the depths of your loins and made you hum in appreciation. Losing yourself in the moment you pushed back against his cock making Bucky's chest flutter and he exhaled a shuddering breath.

Your desire to hear your boyfriend make more of those salacious sounds was overwhelming, but a voice deep down inside you was telling you to tread carefully. Bucky wasn't awake, and even though his body was responding to his thoughts, you felt you had no right to administer any pleasure without his knowing consent.

"Buck," you turned your head towards your slumbering husband. "Hey handsome, rise and shine." You chuckled softly at your own words, Bucky was already halfway there.

He moaned protestingly, he had never been good at the shining part. Your hundred year old grumpus was definitely a night owl, so it was almost a blessing that the sun hadn't risen.

"Buck, Bucky," you breathed his name onto his lips, hoping to wake him gently. "Wake up, I want you to fuck me."

Bucky’s eyelids fluttered slightly in response to your words. You smirked at what was needed to get his attention. "Babe please, I want you inside me."

"What did you say, doll?" he slurred sleepily.

"Hi," you whispered, smiling as he opened his eyes and met your gaze.

"Hi," he answered, marveling at your beauty. Even in the middle of the night you looked like an angel to him, an angel that had fallen into his arms. "You look stunning."

"Thank you."

"I was dreaming about you."

You laughed, "oh, I don't doubt that."

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at your reaction of mirth. "What's so funny?"

"You were dreaming of me, that was abundantly clear."

"Oh? What makes you so sure?"

"I'm pretty sure this," you took the hand that was cradling your chest and guided it to his erection, "gives the game away."

Bucky's expression quickly turned to horror and he pulled away from the embrace. "Oh God, I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"Woah, Buck, it's fine."

"It's not fine."

"Isn't that for me to decide?"

Your boyfriend looked at you, you certainly had a way of winning an argument. "I'll just go cool off."

"Well, I'd rather you didn't." You put a hand on his arm as he attempted to untangle himself from you.

Bucky stopped in his tracks, one leg was already hanging off the bed as he tried to escape to the bathroom. He turned back to face you. "What?"

"Get back in bed, Bucky."

He looked at you with uncertainty.

"Please, babe. Take off your pants."

Bucky felt his cock twitch at your words.

"Help me?"

"Help you? Don't make me get out of this bed Buck. Just take off your boxers and get back in. We're losing heat."

"We?"

"Yeah, get back in here and I'll show you how hot I actually am."

Bucky chuckled, "I'm intimately familiar with how hot you are, doll."

"I still think you need a little refresher," you waved him under the duvet in the darkness. "Touch me."

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist in response to your request for him to touch you.

"Kiss me."

His lips were on your neck, kissing, sucking, tasting that sweet unique blend that made you so appealing and aroused him so.

Every nip he made at your neck, every stroke his fingers made over your abdomen stoked the fire in loins. He slipped under your shirt, raking his fingers across your bare flesh up towards your unbound breasts.

You pushed your back against his chest, against his now throbbing member. "Here, Bucky," you reveled in the way that he massaged your breast.

Lost in the moment you closed your eyes, taking in everything you could feel. Your boyfriend was now propped up on his elbow, his chin resting on your shoulder. Every now and then his nose would graze your jawline and the stubble on his chin tickled your skin. His breath was hot and heavy and each one felt like a billow, stoking the desire inside you.

"Yes, Bucky," you murmured, pressing your hand on his. "Here."

Since Bucky was behind you, you both faced the same direction and couldn't meet his eyes, you knew he was craving something more from the way his breath had become more haggard.

"I thought I'd told you to get rid of those pants?" you scolded as Bucky thrusted his hips against your backside, erection still clothed. You turned your head to face him, taking your hand off his and running it over his leg. It was almost as though the tiny hairs on his thigh rose along the lines you traced with your fingers.

Gently, you tugged at the elasticated waistline of his boxers and Bucky shivered in anticipation. You tried to pull them down but you couldn't quite manage at the awkward angle.

"Bucky, help a girl out."

Behind you, Bucky smirked. He removed his hand from your bosom and slipped it between your legs, pushing down hard on your scantily clad pussy.

"BUCK!" Caught unawares, your eyes flew open and you gasped with pleasure.

"Enough help for you, doll?" he whispered smugly in your ear.

You shivered, desire penetrating your core by the pressure he was applying, massaging your folds gently, every now and then breaking through to lightly graze your clit. It wreaked havoc with your senses, the teasing, the anticipation, the tiny taste of what he had to offer you, but keeping the real feast just out of reach. You were desperate, filled with a carnal lust that made your juices flow freely soaking the silken cloth that kept him from you.

"I want you," you mumbled incoherently.

"What was that?" Bucky feigned deafness.

"I want you to fuck me," you forced yourself to enunciate.

"Doll, when did you get so confident about telling me what you want?" Bucky asked conversationally, as though you were having a casual chat, hand still caressing your crotch. "I had no idea how desperate you were."

"Clearly not quite enough for you to get your pants off though."

Bucky laughed, you loved the sound. "Eager. I like it."

He hoisted his hips off the bed and awkwardly used his free hand to push down his pants.

"Need a little help there, soldier?"

You hooked your thumb into one corner of the elastic band around his waist and tugged as Bucky did the same thing on the other side, successfully freeing his fully erect member.

Seeing him like this, engorged, veins throbbing, tip glistening made your mouth water. There was nothing you enjoyed more than looking up at your boyfriend and watching him come undone. But tonight you were feeling impatient, you didn't want him to waste time, teasing him with your lips, you wanted him pushing, pulsing inside you. Every second he wasn't thrusting into you was a second wasted.

Twisting your arm around Bucky's, which was still securely clamped on your clit, you reached under him to give him a few strokes before leading him towards your aching center.

"Oh God, doll, I-ahhh!"

"I want you, Bucky. Now!" You didn't care how desperate you sounded.

"Show me," he growled in your ear. "Show me how much you want this." Bucky's cock was pressed up against your ass, he was grinding against you at the same intoxicating pace at which he ran his fingers back and forth over your already quivering clit.

You lifted your top leg, moaning wantonly as Bucky used the opportunity to slip his fingers under your panties. Unadulterated access to your leaking core. Once your leg was hooked around Bucky's thigh, you guided him inside you, reveling in the initial stretch as he pushed apart your glossy walls. He pushed into the hilt before holding still, willing himself not to come undone with just one thrust. He used the opportunity to pepper small kisses on your bare shoulder.

"I love how you fill me up, Buck."

Bucky was murmuring in your ear, words you couldn't quite make out because you were so lost in the way his cock was pushing into you. "I want to be with you forever."

Forever didn't seem long enough to you in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to be lost in each other's bliss for eternity. Slowly at first, Bucky moved in and out, rolling his hips expertly, knowing exactly how to make you unravel at the seams. Each time his hips slapped against your ass it felt like he was pushing the air right out of your lungs and the pressure building inside of you was almost suffocating.

His lips ghosted your neck and ear, erratic breaths felt hot and heavy on your cheek. His tip swept across your sweet spot, slow and steady and you could feel the pressure building inside you, like a volcano ready to erupt.

"Buck-" you continued to whimper, barely able to articulate anything of meaning. But Bucky understood exactly what you meant.

He propped himself up with his free arm, changing the angle at which he plunged into you, deeper, faster, harder, making you twist and writhe in ecstasy. Bucky's hand was still pressed on your clit, but he had long since given up on any methodical administration, not that it mattered, every thrust of his cock made his hand slide across your nub. It was haphazard and completely unmethodical and felt incredible.

"I want to come, Buck!"

"Look at me, doll," Bucky whispered in your ear. "Come on beautiful. I want to see you."

"Come with me, Buck!" you choked out, turning your head as far back as you could. Your nails dug into his arms as you craned your head in your boyfriend's direction.

You couldn't see him, because your orgasm forced your eyes shut. Try as you might, you had never mastered the skill of keeping your eyes open when you came. Your bodies shook with pleasure and you desperately tried to face Bucky. You we're doing really well until he collapsed on your back, face falling into the crook of your neck.

"Oof," your remaining breath was forced from your lungs as Bucky's full weight crushed you.

"S-ry," a muffled sound emerged from behind you.

"Post orgasm suffocation isn't ideal, babe."

Bucky groaned with effort as he pushed himself away with one arm, extracting himself from your center. He lay back on his pillow and chuckled contentedly. "You're still breathing there, doll?"

"Barely."

"You ok?" His face was laced with sudden concern.

"Oh I'm more than ok. Just give me a minute to get the feeling back in my extremities."

"I'll be here when you're ready."

You lay face first on your pillow, soaking in the post orgasmic euphoria of your nocturnal activities. After a few minutes of laying in the dark in silence, you rolled over to see how your boyfriend was doing.

"Buck?"

Silence.

"Hey, Bucky!"

You were answered with a loud snore.

"That good, huh?" you said bemusedly at your boyfriend's slumbering form before pulling the duvet up to his chin. "Sweet dreams, babe."

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fan fiction

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navybrat817 · 3 months

Note

Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?

I wish I had the answer, nonnie!

Slip Inside

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️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 wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.

He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.

Like you knew he was watching you.

“I love you,” he breathed into the room.

You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.

You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.

And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.

Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.

“Mine,” he whispered.

Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.

If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.

“You're mine,” he growled lowly.

Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.

You didn't know he'd come home tonight.

He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.

Only him.

He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.

You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.

And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.

He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.

He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.

But he had to make it last and make you come first.

With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.

He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.

“Bucky?” You mumbled.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”

You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.

“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”

You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.

“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”

Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.

He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.

You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”

“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”

He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.

“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.

He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.

“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.

“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”

Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.

We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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mrs-illyrian-baby · 2 months

Text

Good Girl | Bucky x Reader | Mutually Beneficial AU | Drabble

You don't listen to Sarge's instructions during a mission so he has to show you that you can be a good girl if you try.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, dom!Bucky, dirty talk, pet names & honourifics, clothing dispartiy and leather kink.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Mutually Beneficial Masterlist

Bucky dragged you to the back of the plane, sliding the panel that separated the main sitting area from a small cargo hold at the back.

Sam had shouted that the both of you should behave, there was no worry about that. You'd behave now, the fire behind Bucky's eyes told you you'd behave for a long time after this as well.

"You could have died" he hissed, hauling you up onto the large container box. Even though he was looking up at you now, you still felt small. Stupid. Tears welled in your eyes as he continued to berate you, that you were an agent first, that you were supposed to follow orders because they keep you safe.

He looked up from his tirade to see the tears begin to roll and stepped forward, back into your space.

"Babydoll?" He dropped his voice, quiet now, and wary.

"I'm so sorry" you sobbed, letting the tears over flow and pour down your face "I'm so sorry, I wanna follow orders, I wanna be good, I thought-" you hiccuped "I thought you were in danger, I couldn't-" hiccup "bare it".

Strong hands cupped your face, brushing your tears away, his hands cold from his leather gloves.

"Oh, Babydoll, that's why?"

You nodded, voice failing you. Bucky wrapped you in his arms, pulling you close and burying his own face in your leather clad chest.

"I wanna be good" you whispered "I wanted to be good. I - I love you is all and I"

He looked up, pressing his thumb to your lips, salty and red from your tears.

"I love you too, Baby, I'm sorry. You are good, you are" he ran a hand over your hair.

"Even though I didn't follow your orders?"

"Even though you didn't follow my orders. I can't blame you, I'd have done the same thing" he murmured.

"Will you tell me I'm good again? I feel...bad" you flushed, trying to hide your embarrassed face in his neck.

"Yeah? You need to feel like my good girl again?" The words went straight through you like electricity.

"Yes, yes please, Sarge" you did your best innocent eyes, blinking slowly and biting his thumb, still resting against your mouth.

"Hmmm... okay" he narrowed his eyes but the low grin he was hiding gave him away "Let's get you out of this" he plucked at the leather jacket and polyester combat trousers you were wearing, a few knife cuts against the legs from your earlier tussel.

Bucky backed across the small hold to the thin bench against the wall of the plane as you stripped, patting his knee "c'mon then, Babydoll, c'mere like my good girl, my best girl"

On wobbly legs you walked across the space, you felt dizzy, sick like you'd been poisoned by your own lust. Falling into his lap he spread your legs over his own, knees widening until your body hovered between you.

He pulled you down by your tag, holding you still while he kissed you, biting at your bottom lip and pulling away enough to look you in the eye.

"That's my Babydoll" he slid a leather clad hand across your wet folds, the cold material drawing stark attention to his tight black attire and your complete lack of clothing. The thought made you gush, fresh slick coating the leather as he pushed two fingers in "What a good girl, all wet for me."

He leaned forward making you clutch at his jacket for balance "think you could get wetter"

You moaned a response, you're sure you could, the question was more whether you'd survive it.

His fingers stilled, your hips winding in response, trying to find purchase, friction, something. Bucky chuckled darkly, biting the lobe of your ear until you cried out. His other hand shot up, covering your mouth. Without his support you dug your hands deeper into his clothes, feet barely touching the floor as your legs dangled over his thighs.

"Hush, Baby" you quietly moaned against his mouth, moving your hips again "I know what you need, my desperate girl can't wait any longer, can you" you shook your head, trying to stay quiet "and you want to be a good girl for your Sergeant, right?" You nodded "then you'll fuck yourself" you moaned again, his hand tightening over your lips "quietly! Or not at all. Can you do that?" You nodded. His hand moved away "tell me"

"I can do that, Sarge"

"Do what"

"Fuck myself, Sarge" you were so deeply ashamed of how much you needed this, but God, he was right, you were wetter, your arousal dripping on the floor.

"How?"

"On your fingers, Sarge" his deep chuckle was back.

"Good girl, yes, but I was looking for quietly"

"Yes, yes quietly, Sarge, I'll be quiet, I'll be good, Sarge, promise, so good"

He brought his legs a little closer together, your toes just touching the floor and giving you enough leverage to bounce on his hand.

"Then show me"

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sunshinebuckybarnes · 8 months

Note

distracted

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Summary: As Bucky's Personal Assistant you're required to take minutes in meetings, but something has you distracted.

Warnings: petnames (angel, sir), smut; oral (m receiving). This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.

Author's note: gosh I feel like it's been an age since I last wrote something! There really is just something about this man in a suit! (word count: 1.2k)

There was something about Bucky Barnes in a suit. The way they were perfectly tailored to show off his muscular frame without being too obvious. The three-piece ones in particular were a personal favourite.

With each layer, it was like there was a secret being revealed.

When his blazer came off, you could appreciate how his shirt clung to his arms. Every movement highlights taut muscle just waiting to be discovered.

When the waistcoat came off and he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing the artwork that adorned his arms; it felt like you were in on a dirty little secret.

And when his trousers came off? Well, at that point you were his dirty little secret.

"Something have you distracted?"

His voice snaps you out of your head. You look around the now empty meeting room before locking eyes with Bucky Barnes, your boss and CEO.

You feel vulnerable under his stare and it lights a fire within you. He looks at you expectantly. He asked you a question and he expects an answer.

Clearing your throat you fumble an apology, making a start on gathering your things until you hear the click of a lock.

Your heartbeat quickens as you lift your gaze. Watching as he stalks around the conference table until he's standing behind you.

"Can you show me the minutes from this meeting?" he asks casually, resting his hands on the back of your chair.

Shit.

You'd been too distracted fantasising about what was under his impressive suit that you'd completely ignored to do your job.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I must have been distracted," you whisper, not daring to glance back at him.

You jump as his hands come to rest on your shoulders. His nimble fingers dig into your tense muscles, if you didn't know any better you'd think he was trying to relax you. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you did know better.

"What's got you distracted, huh?"

His lips are a whisper away from your ear causing you to shudder involuntarily as his breath caresses your skin.

You're unable to form a coherent sentence, your mind flicking through all of the possible scenarios - most of which end in the same outcome.

Bucky doesn't give you much chance to respond before he turns your chair to face him. He crowds into your space, his large arms caging you in as he rests his hands on the arms of your chair.

"Don't be shy, you can tell me," his face is level with yours, his eyes dropping to your lips as he utters his next words, "What's got you distracted, angel?"

"You, sir," you whisper.

Bucky smirks wickedly at your admission, "Is that so? And what about me has you distracted?"

His piercing eyes bore into you as he awaits your response. You squeeze your thighs together subconsciously at the filthy thoughts running through your mind.

Bucky's smirk grows as he watches you squirm under his gaze.

"I was distracted by your suit, sir. Particularly what's under it."

Bucky hums at your admission, one of his hands cupping your cheek gently, tilting your face up to catch your eye.

"That's highly unprofessional. Maybe if you're so easily distracted we should reconsider your role."

You bite back a smile, your heart rate picking up as this little game continues.

"Or I could make it up to you?" You counter, giving him your best innocent look.

You revel in the way his pupils dilate and his hold on your face tightens slightly.

"And how are you going to make it up to me?"

"By sucking your cock."

He lets out a laugh, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, "You truly are something else, angel." Bucky straightens up and stares down at you, "it's all yours."

You don't need to be told twice as you waste no time undoing his belt, palming his hard dick through his trousers before pulling them down his thick thighs along with his boxers.

Your mouth salivates at the sight of his impressive cock. Wrapping your hand around him you stroke him gently, wanting to work him up as much as possible before you take him in your mouth.

Unfortunately, Bucky knows your game and is not in the mood for teasing. He bats your hand away as he steps closer to you.

"Hands on the arms of the chair. You're gonna let me use that pretty little mouth of yours, aren't you angel?"

"Yes, sir," you purr, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

"That's my good girl."

Bucky taps the tip of his cock on your tongue a few times before slowly sliding it into your mouth. You moan at the first taste of him, enjoying the feel of his thick cock on your tongue.

He sets a slow, languid pace, groaning at the feel of your hot mouth around him. Thrusting shallowly at first, knowing how much you enjoy taking him fully and knowing how crazy it's driving you to not have it all. One of his hands rests on the back of your head as he guides you further down his cock.

"That's it, angel," he groans, his head falling back as he hits the back of your throat, "so fucking good to me."

He holds you there for a moment, moaning as he feels your throat constrict around him, before letting you take things at your pace.

You pull back so only the tip is left, swirling your tongue around it before hollowing your cheeks and taking him fully again.

The moan Bucky lets out has you repeating the motion as you're determined to bring him as much pleasure as you can.

"Fuck, just like that angel," he grunts, his hips snapping forward involuntarily causing you to gag around him.

Your fingers dig into the arms of the chair. You want to touch him so badly but you know better than to ignore his demand.

Both of Bucky's hands tangle in your hair as he fucks your mouth. You can tell he's close by the way his breath comes out in pants and his hips begin to lose their rhythm. You look up at him and the moment his eyes connect with yours it's enough to tip him over the edge.

You moan at the taste of him at the back of your throat, sucking him harder to drain everything he's got.

"My sweet angel," he sighs, pulling his cock from your mouth. His hands frame your face and he pulls you up to stand, pulling you into a fierce kiss.

You're breathless when he pulls away and you smile up at him.

"Am I forgiven, Sir?" You ask sweetly.

Bucky smiles at you, leaning down to kiss you tenderly, "You're definitely forgiven, angel. Now I would love nothing more to bend you over this table and make you see stars but I have another meeting in five minutes."

You pout at his words which makes him chuckle before he gives you a quick peck.

"How about you take the afternoon off? Go to my place, have a relaxing bath, I'll pick up food when I'm finished and then I'll spend all night between those pretty legs?"

You hum, leaning up on your tip toes to give him a quick kiss, "that sounds wonderful."

He smooths your hair down before slapping your ass and nudging you towards the door. You can't help but shoot him a wink as he pulls his trousers up and you unlock the door.

Yep, so we can add CEO!Bucky to the list of AUs 😊 thank you for reading! As always comments and reblogs are super appreciated ✨💜

#bucky barnes #ceo!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #sebastian stan fic

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queers-gambit · 27 days

Text

Damage Done

prompt: The Winter Soldier is activated and Bucky's lover is unlucky enough to be in proximity.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.4k+

note: oh, wow, Cherry wrote Bucky NOT in a Mafia AU?

warnings: takes place during Civil War, absolutely no plot - author just doesn't know how to shut the fuck up. cursing, violence, established relationship, small angst, injury, blood, hurt and comfort, Winter Soldier antics, choking, abrupt ending, maybe domestic violence? it's the WS.

it's really not that bad, it's not terribly descriptive but still tread carefully if triggered by these topics.

"Keep them together," Agent Everett Ross commanded, a little man with a raging Napoleon Complex, gesturing at you and Bucky; the latter held in mobile, restrictive captivity. "He doesn't play nice if he doesn't see her, or so it's said," his eyes rolled.

"You're making a huge mistake!" You barked, struggling in the restraints they had you wrapped in.

"No, I don't think so," he sneered, approaching you as Bucky's unit kept moving. "I think the mistake was letting you out of anyone's sight. Tell me, how long have you been in cahoots with the Winter Soldier?"

"He's not the Winter Soldier anymore, you jackass, he's a person! A real, live human being! His name's James but he prefers Bucky! He likes plums," you were yanked away, still snarling, "his favorite color is blue, likes motorcycles, he has real guilt over his past transgressions, and you've got the wrong guy!"

"Oh, right, like you're the best judge of character," Ross laughed.

"Natasha! Nat! Fucking tell him!" You pleaded, struggling in the hold of the men who kept iron clad restraint on you and were starting to drag you away. "You've got the wrong guy! Bucky didn't do this! I wouldn't lie - not to you, Natasha! Tell him!"

"That's touching, really sweet," Ross mocked, rolling his eyes as you were finally overpowered and lead away.

"Hang on a second," Nat muttered, sharing a look with Tony. "Was her DNA or facial recognition anywhere at the UN? Anywhere near where the bomb was set off?"

"What's that matter - "

"Since they met, they've not parted ways," Nat spelled out. "He won't go anywhere without her - you, yourself, are keeping them together for interrogation - "

"It's just easier," Ross scoffed.

"No, you know..." She blinked in confusion, "You know, Bucky won't talk unless she's there - you know he'll be ten times as difficult if she's not in the room."

"So?"

"So, in the past two years, have you heard about him without her? Have you seen her without him?"

"Nobody's seen or heard from either of them," Ross shook his head.

"Exactly," she nodded, lungs tightening with nerves. "If you can't find evidence of her being in Vienna... Bucky might not be your guy... Besides, they're both trained to avoid cameras - "

"Mistakes are made," Ross waved off.

"Not by two highly trained assassins like them," she snapped. "Check the files, go back - look! Actually look, run her scans through facial recognition - if you don't find her, it wasn't Bucky."

"You're so sure?" Tony asked skeptically.

"I know her," Natasha nodded, "better than anyone. She's as good as my sister, she's as good as blood. I know her. I know she wouldn't run this risk - "

"Then you also know she wouldn't get caught," Ross laughed.

"Neither would Bucky."

The silence stretched, but Ross was stubborn; sneering at the Avengers and taking his leave with his own plan of action in mind. He left Tony and Natasha to deal with Sam and Steve as he went to observe the interrogation. When he got before the monitors, he watched as it took four different men to restrain you enough to hoist your locks up the wall until they were clicked in place by ultra-strength magnets.

You jostled, feeling the full extent of your containment, grunting when the pipe you were connected to shocked your entire system into submission. Everett Ross smirked at your pain; watching your tongue swipe over your teeth, arms high above your head, readjusting your weight in your feet, but otherwise, not moving.

Ross heard Bucky ask quietly, his eyes watching you carefully from inside the reinforced cell, "You okay, doll?"

"Looks like they learned from last time," you grit, the cuffs around your wrists electrified; charring your skin, making you grimace slightly in a veiled attempt to hide your pain from your lover.

"Don't fight, you'll make it worse," he advised softly, frowning, eyes glassy from restrained emotion.

"They could've at least put me in a bit more comfortable position," you sneered, glaring up at one of the cameras, shaking your head as if in disappointment.

"I don't think they want to play nice, sweetheart."

"Yeah, could've guessed that from when they arrested us," you shook your head, puckering your lips to gather the blood in your mouth; spitting it to the floor. "You good, baby?" You asked as the men who restrained you moved to plug in the power cell caging Bucky.

He nodded silently at you, bowing his head and letting his long locks curtain his face. You frowned, shifting again as you blindly felt your cuffs and designed a way to get free; watching the men stoically as they exited the room to make way for the psychologist. Your jaw clenched, the air smelling foul - alerting you that something wasn't quite right.

"Hello, Mr. Barnes," the accented man greeted casually, standing at a single table in front of Bucky, you off to the side; chains rattling as your defenses flared. The psychologist smirked and greeted you, too, assuring your real identity was known - something that Natasha released to the world about two years ago when HYDRA sent Bucky after Cap in DC. You didn't fault her, in fact, you respected her move, and after getting out of the blown-to-shit base, you had run into the Winter Soldier... Beginning your epic love story, both of you on the run from authorities and higher powers.

You smuggled Bucky out of the country, using fake aliases that had yet to see the light of day and therefor, wasn't released in the files Nat published during her takedown of the compromised S.H.I.E.L.D. agency. He was appreciative, pondering how he was meant to go forward in a world he didn't know; so, you agreed to stick around for a bit to help settle him, and that bit turned into a couple of years - the two of you inseparable.

There was an incident in London that almost exposed you, but instead, it just shined a light on your new partnership. Captain American, Nat, Sam, shit - even Tony Stark himself was unable to catch up; your trail going cold, Nat knowing your Widow training was running the show and keeping you safe. Granted, she probably could've unraveled the web you had weaved - but the truth was, she didn't want to. So, she kept quiet. Leading you all here...

"I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you both," the man you'd come to know as Helmut Zemo continued; playing his part very well, but not well enough to convince you of his innocence. Something about the man rubbed you the wrong way. "Do you mind if I sit?" He asked politely, feigning like you two had a choice. When he did, Zemo continued, "Your first name is James?"

He noted the way Bucky and you shared a look, both remaining silent. Zemo tried to assure, "I'm not here to judge you - either of you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?" Continued silence, your head subtly shaking - an act only Bucky clocked. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."

"My name is Bucky," he croaked, your sigh echoing around the room.

"Hm," Zemo nodded, "I take it, she doesn't want you to talk?"

"She wants me safe," Bucky answered stiffly.

"That is admirable," the psychologist offered kindly, "a great display of love, is it not?"

"Jesus Christ," you shook your head, offering a glare, "you went through all that schooling to ask stupid fucking questions? Might wanna get your money back."

Zemo chuckled after humming, "I am merely trying to establish the connection you two share. I hear it is rare to find one without the other, that you two have become, uh, joined at the hip?"

"I protect her," Bucky offered, sharing a long look with you, "and she protects me."

"An equal partnership, would you say?"

"Yes."

"Buck," you warned, wrists twisting to hold the cuffs; being zapped, making your jaw clench and the veins in your neck to bulge.

"It's all right," his voice sounded like it was being put through a grater. "We're caught, doll, it's all right."

You huffed, eyeing Zemo as his eyes flickered between you two. He nodded, making a note in his little book, "I was warned that you would be unwilling to cooperate without her present. Why is that?"

"She keeps me safe."

Zemo hummed, "So you've said, and yet... Here you both are..." You were ready to lash out, but the doctor changed course, "Tell me, Bucky. You've seen a great deal, haven't you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Your restraints zapped you again when you jolted forward as if to physically silence Zemo, Bucky's head snapping over and his eyes drooping in sympathy. "Told you not to move, it'll only get worse," he told you softly.

"He's asking questions that will get him killed," you snarled, gritting your teeth as the electric currents seized most of your energy. But it was worth it, finding a little weak spot and letting your mind devise a specific plan.

"You fear," Zemo continued, "that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. I feel it is safe to assume, uh, your lady is privy to your past experiences? Perhaps, you two have shared a couple?"

"Just leave her out of this," Bucky pleaded.

"Don't worry," he assured you both, tapping something on his tablet before looking back at Bucky with a sick recognition. "We only have to talk about one. One mission... That I know you," he nodded at you, "were not present for."

"Kinda game you playin', Doc?" You sneered. "Think anything he says will change my opinion about him?"

"No, no, I know your relationship is too strong for that," Zemo smiled. "So, it's not so much what he will say... But what he will do..."

"The fuck does that - "

But then, the lights went out; darkening the room save for the lights individual to Bucky's holding cell. You perked up, the electric currents halting as the cuffs died with the power and gave you an opportunity to begin working on your escape. As red panic lights flickered, Bucky questioned, "What the hell is this?"

"Why don't we discuss your home?" Zemo offered. "Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no," he reached into his satchel, revealing a red notebook the world thought long lost... Buried in snow... Forgotten in time. "I mean, your real home," Zemo removed his glasses as you frantically started working.

"No, no, no, no, no, hey, hey, hey, don't - fuck!" You grit, trying harder to free yourself. "Bucky - Bucky, don't listen - ah, Goddamnit!"

The man you now understood to be a fake psychologist stood with a little flashlight, opening the red notebook, and began repeating words in Russian that would activate the decommissioned Winter Soldier. Bucky had told you all about these words, begging you to provide a shield against them should they ever be uttered again; but you had prior knowledge, the Winter Soldier someone you had been debriefed on during your time with other secret agencies.

"Longing."

"No," Bucky whispered, head tilting back in panic as he felt his stomach curl in a familiar pattern.

"Bucky - don't fucking listen, please!" You begged, still working to free yourself.

"Rusted."

"Stop," Bucky pleaded, sounding in pain.

"Don't do this!" You pleaded to Zemo. "You're fucking hurting him, please, stop!"

"Seventeen."

"Stop!" Bucky barked, his vibranium hand clenching in anger and pain; the entire arm whirring from the flex of his muscle. He began to pant, a deep growl emitting above your panicked whimpers.

"Daybreak!"

"You have no idea what you're doing!" You raged, Bucky screaming in pain as his mind was forcibly sunk back into dark recesses of his past. "Don't - Bucky, baby, listen to me - don't fucking listen to him, please, please, baby, don't do this!"

He screamed, breaking free of the iron restraints that kept him seated in the reinforced, mobile cell. "Furnace!" Zemo continued, ignoring the pain and panic you and Bucky were both thrown into.

"Fucking stop, please! You don't understand!" You begged, freeing one hand and working in vain to unlatch the other. Bucky was out of his seat, anger coursing like a palpable rain over you all - him screaming as his metal arm worked to pound into the strengthened glass surrounding him.

"Nine!"

"Bucky, please, baby, please, don't do this!" You tried a new tactic, hoping you were enough to cut through the brainwashing - but how silly to imagine. Decades of trauma was washing over Bucky again and your little words couldn't cut through the barricades of his mind.

"Benign!"

"You stupid fucking little man!"

Zemo rounded around the cell, Bucky still pounding away at the glass. "Homecoming! One!"

"DON'T!"

"Freight car!"

You whimpered in fear when Bucky punched the entire door off the hinges, freeing him at last; but the words were spoken, the damage done. He crouched on the floor, Zemo pausing to take in the sight, slowly approaching Bucky as he stood upright; the jangling of your chains louder and more frantic as you tried to free your last wrist.

"Jesus Christ," you whispered, trying to divide focus between the two tasks of freeing yourself and protecting Bucky - but being terribly unsuccessful as you watched Zemo stand in front of your dead-eyed boyfriend.

What a ridiculous, mundane label to assign someone like Bucky.

In Russian, Zemo questioned, "Soldier?"

And in Russian, the man you loved answered, "Ready to comply."

Zemo demanded in English, "Mission report. December 16, 1991."

You whimpered in fear, listening to Bucky give the report that would haunt you for years to come. Just as he finished, you managed to get out of the cuffs, but the clanging of your freed restraints caught Zemo's attention - who smirked with abundant cruelty. "Don't," you warned, backing out of the room just as officers began to flood it.

It was a brutal fight, trying to stave off Bucky once in his Winter Soldier mindset. You grunted as he engaged you, men dead at your feet - the lucky ones just knocked out. You grit your teeth, trying to defend yourself as Bucky operated mechanically; doing what you could to protect yourself, but it wasn't enough.

Blows landed, punching and kicking one another in an equal match of strength and stamina.

"Seize her," Zemo demanded, and in the next moment, Bucky had you by the neck; an effort that made you wheeze and claw at his bionic hand.

"Bucky," you begged. "Baby - baby - it's me, it's me, please, don't, it's me! Don't do this, baby, please, come back to me. Come back!" You struggled in his grip, trying to pry his hand open, "Baby, please, please, come back to me," spit drooled from your lips as he squeezed tighter. "This isn't you!" You managed to squeeze out, tears surfacing. "Not anymore, don't let them win!"

"Shut her up, Solider," Zemo commanded in Russian, your eyes widening and trying to beg Bucky again before he was sending you into a wall. He marched up to you, grabbing your hair, and surging his balled up metal fist directly into the bridge of your nose, breaking it, head jolting backwards, and effectively knocking you out.

When you came back into consciousness, it was to Steve's worried face; his hands caressing your cheeks and begging, "You all right?"

"Fucking hell," you winced, reaching up to prod the tender spot on your head; revealing blood.

"Got your ass kicked, huh?" He frowned.

"Watch your language, Cap," you smirked, wincing when your face throbbed. "Shit, how bad is it?"

He looked you over, offering, "Definitely a broken nose."

"Goddamnit - where is he? Where's Bucky?"

"Help me," a voice pleaded from the next room, Zemo playing his part by splaying out on the floor like bait.

"Don't trust him, something ain't right about him, Steve," you whispered, waving him on as you sluggishly hoisted yourself up the wall to lean against it. "Kept asking about Siberia, asking about shit nobody should actually know."

"Get yourself safe," Steve told you swiftly, nodding at Sam; who was checking on the status of the other bodies around you.

"Just find him, Steve, he's lost in his own mind - a threat to himself," you panted, slowly standing.

"I know - "

"You don't know," you shook your head, wiping a trickle of blood from your temple, "but you're gonna have to do more than understand him right now, Steve."

"I've got this," he promised, watching you nod and limp away. You had just missed the action, Bucky overpowering both Sam and Steve; getting to a safety landing and running into Natasha, Tony, and Agent Sharon Carter.

"We'll hash our bullshit out later," you panted, "but for now - "

You heard a commotion behind you, flinching out of sight when Bucky made himself known and began taking down rogue agents unlucky enough to stand before the Winter Soldier.

"He have an off switch?" Nat asked.

"Not that I've found," you frowned. "Split up."

Tony tried to engage Bucky first, using a mobile Iron Man device he wore on his wrist that used sonics to disorient Bucky. It only worked to a small extent, the two exchanging a few blows, Bucky firing a bullet at Tony's face at pointblank range that was saved by his technologically advanced glasses. Bucky got the upper hand, sending Tony flying back, letting Sharon and Nat attack.

He disposed of them both easily, stumbling when you caught him off guard and wrapped your legs around him. Normally, you'd do anything to have your legs around him - but this wasn't one of those times. You exchanged several punches, blocking one another, going for disarming hits but being of equal challenge; leaving small cuts and blooming bruises on each other as if to prove the engagement. Natasha rejoined the fight, two Widows showing Bucky up on a few instances, but he was heaving her across the room as you swung onto his shoulders in an impressive acrobatic move.

You heaved your fists down in a repeated fashion on the top of his head, Bucky charging at one of the cafe tables; slamming you down and choking you again with his metal hand. Both your hands held his, legs up around his neck to try to keep him at a distance for relief on your windpipe.

Through a strangled breath, you managed, "You could at least recognize me!"

"Who said I don't?" He growled, reaching out to snap a piece of wood from a chair.

You tried to regain normal breath, wheezing, "This isn't you, baby, you are not this person anymore - you're not a psychotic, robot killer! You're a man - please!"

"You don't know a damn thing about me," he seethed.

"I know everything about you," you strangled, "and I know this isn't you. Come back to me, baby, please! Y-You can't let the demons win, Buck, please - fucking listen to me!" But he only raised the wooden shaft above his head. "BUCKY, DON'T!"

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

You cried out shrilly when he jabbed the sharp wood into your shoulder, staking you to the table just as King T'Challa rushed onto the scene and stole your brainwashed boyfriend's attention. You hissed in pain, trying to yank the wood free but being unsuccessful; resulting in blood to splatter onto the tiled floor.

Hearing someone pant your name, you caught a glimpse of red and knew it was Nat, her face worried over yours a moment later. "Where's Bucky?" You coughed and winced in pain.

"Goin' up by the looks of it," she informed, "now hang on, this is gonna hurt. Want a belt to bite?"

"No, just do it, get it done, please," you panted, bracing yourself, and suddenly, without warning, your companion heaved the piercing shaft free from your flesh. Naturally, you cried out, groaning and clenching your jaw so tight, it nearly crushed your teeth into dust.

"Hey, you seen..." Sam arrived on scene, taking in your injury, "Holy shit, you good?"

"Yeah," you grunted, stumbling to your feet as blood bloomed into a bigger, brighter blemish on your tactical shirt. "We gotta go, Sam, we should get outta here."

"Hang on," Nat paused you two, your opposite hand holding your wound; her hands occupied by a smart device, "looks like Bucky tried to highjack a helicopter. Steve stopped him, but it resulted in them all crashing in the river."

"Shit," Sam breathed. "We gotta go find them."

"We need to get outta here, you know, away from the cops and agents," your head shook. "Get somewhere safe, away from this catastrophe. We'll regroup with Steve."

"Go," Nat permitted, "I won't say a word."

"You're one of a kind, Nat," you praised, pecking her cheek. "Let's go, Sam. And grab that First Aid kit," you pointed to the wall where the white box was mounted. He agreed and you lead the way out of the facility.

Bucky groaned as he woke up, head lulling back before realizing he couldn't move his metal arm; finding it clamped in industrial weights. Sam called you both to attention, but while Steve jogged over, you remained in your place out of sheer distress.

You only vaguely listened to the conversation, hands trembling as your shoulder was bandaged to prevent further injury or infection. You did what you could to patch up any injury, and when you heard your name, you dialed in; Bucky asking, "Where is she? Is she okay?"

"You don't remember?" Sam sneered.

"No..."

"You stabbed her," the Falcon growled.

"What? N-No, I-I-I couldn't've - I wouldn't!"

"You did," Steve confirmed, pity coloring his words. "Punched her out pretty well, choked her, too. Broke her nose..."

"Please - Steve, please, tell me I didn't."

"I'm sorry, Buck."

"That why she's not here? She's in a hospital?"

"Actually, no," Sam trailed, "she's just in the other room."

"She didn't want to come here?"

Steve sighed as Sam informed, "Don't think she wants to see you right now, man."

"I didn't mean to hurt her."

"We know," Steve swiftly promised, nodding his head. "She knows it, too, you just have to give her some time."

Bucky looked utterly defeated, murmuring, "I scared her. Oh, my God, I scared her..."

"Gotta agree with you there."

"Sam," Steve reprimanded. "Look, Buck, she'll come around."

You waited until the two men left Bucky alone to regroup and stratify a new course of action. Slowly and almost sheepishly, you entered where Bucky was being kept, steps silent but he heard you anyways. His blue eyes flashed in concern as he met your gaze, mouth opening and closing as if words failed him.

"Doll," he finally breathed, "a-are you all right?"

"I'm okay."

"Don't bullshit me, how hard did I hit you? Steve said I broke your nose, I-I'm so sorry, doll, please believe me. What'd I do to your shoulder? Is that where I stabbed you?"

"Buck," you sighed, slowly squatting in front of him, "I need you to take a breath and know that I understand you were not in your right state of mind. You were forcibly triggered and sent back into that way of thinking, I know it wasn't you."

"I still hurt you, I still did it."

"Did you, though?" Your head cocked, eyes narrowing slightly, "Because I know my Bucky wouldn't hurt me, would never dare lay a hand on me - but the Winter Solider is a different story. You didn't do this, Buck, you weren't you."

"I can smell the fear on you."

"Well, yeah, it fuckin' scared me. I tried to stop that fake doctor, I tried to help, tried to save you and keep your safe. I'm sorry I was too slow, that I failed."

"You didn't fail anything, sweetheart... I-I failed you, I broke my promise to never hurt you."

"No, you didn't. The Winter Solider did all that, not my Bucky."

He frowned, repeating to ask softly, "Your Bucky?"

"My Bucky - the kind, charismatic, impossibly stubborn, kind hearted man I've loved the past couple of years who always gives me the crispiest fries, who has nightmares, who loves me unconditionally despite what I, too, have done in my past. And you know what I was doing out there while Sam and Steve talked to you?"

"What's that, doll?"

"Understanding that loving someone means loving their flaws, accepting them exactly as they are. So, while, yes, the Winter Solider scares the fuck outta me, he's still part of you and I can't authentically love you if I reject the Soldier."

His head shook "Your kindness is wasted on me."

"I think you should let me decide what's a waste and what's not when it comes to my own energy and emotion."

"I'm just gonna end up hurting you again. You're better off without me, baby, you and I both know you're better off keeping your distance. You should get out now while you still can."

"Not gonna happen. 'Cause you know what else I realized?" You reached up to caress his cheek, "I trust you beyond reasonable doubt, I trust you even if I'm afraid of the Winter Solider. I should've been faster, I should've helped you more, but I was powerless against that red notebook."

"You and I, both..."

You pet the cheek you were holding. "Buck, I know it was scary, I know how it must've felt being forced back into that mindset, but I want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul - you're not gonna scare me off. Because I love you, Bucky, and every single part of you - whether choking me out or not. Whether I earn a broken nose or not."

"I'm so sorry. I-I can't believe I did that, I'm so sorry, I hate that I hurt you. I'm so sorry, baby, I can't - I can't even put it in words how much I regret putting you in that position."

You smirked, "See? The Winter Soldier has no remorse, but my Bucky does." You gingerly reached out to curl his hair behind his ear. "My Bucky apologizes and takes accountability. There's no reason to not love that man - especially when he deserves it so much. Hey? Hear me? You deserve to be loved, too, Buck."

"And you deserve a man who doesn't run the risk of being turned into a psycho killing machine over a few measly words."

"I deserve to love my best friend, so let me do that. Say whatever you want, try to push me away - but I'm like a boomerang, baby, I'll just come right back."

"What kinda man puts his best girl in that kinda position? Who hurts the most important person in his life?"

"A man who endured decades of abuse," you laid your hands on either of his thighs, "a man who wasn't allowed control of his own mind. I can't - no, no, I won't fault you for that, Buck. Today wasn't your fault and I'll remind you of that as often as it takes. Don't you dare feel guilty because you didn't do this to me, okay? You didn't put me in any position - that fake fucking doctor did this, Agent Ross did this, special ops put us here. You, my sweet boy, didn't do anything to be at fault. You were trapped, but look at you now - freed, level headed, talking to me."

His eyes gleamed with a sheen of emotion, staring at the bloodied bandage wrapping your shoulder wound before his eyes danced over the bruising and other aftermath of your injuries. "I could've killed you," he muttered, tears filling his eyes.

"But you didn't - and surprisingly, neither did the Winter Soldier. Maybe there was a part of you still alive, wanting to refuse orders and not actually hurt me."

"Perhaps," he frowned. "I'm still so sorry, doll, I hate that I did this to you. It never should've happened."

Your head nodded, "I know, baby, and listen - I forgive you. Yeah? Hear me? I forgive you, this is in the past."

"Are you sure about me? You sure you wanna do this? Knowing I could flip a switch and hurt you - maybe even worse than today?"

"I'm sure about you, Buck," you agreed. "I don't wanna be without you, so, sign me up for whatever's to come."

"You might regret that."

"The only thing I could ever regret is abandoning you. I don't want to do this without you - I love our life together. In any world, in any lifetime, I'd still choose you. There's nothing that would make me regret you - regret being with you."

"You sure? I don't want to make you do anything out of your comfort."

"I love you, Bucky, yes, I'm sure. No matter what damage you think you might've caused, whatever damage has been done, I promise, that's not the truth. There's nothing about you that I could regret."

"Well, all that's left now is to get to Siberia, stop the other Winter Soldiers."

"And figure out a way to free your mind once and for all... It's what you deserve," you told him softly, rocking to your knees to meet his forehead with yours and caressing his cheek again. When you heard approaching footsteps, you sighed and pulled away from him to stand and turn, spying Sam and Steve. "C'mon, Cap, get him outta this. He's not gonna attack anyone," you requested, gesturing where your boyfriend was trapped.

"You sure?" Sam asked stiffly. "He did a real number on you alone. Not to mention all the other agents and cops he took out back there."

"He's good," you snapped, perking your brows at Steve, "and you two would do well not to throw what happened in his face, it wasn't his fault. So c'mon, free him, he's not a wild animal."

Steve agreed and lifted the machinery from Bucky's prosthetic, him instantly snatching it back and massaging where the joint met metal. Bucky stood with a set stare at Sam and Steve, as if anticipating them to lunge at him. His throat constricted, swelled with emotion when you stepped in front of him - posing barrier between the two Avengers and himself.

"You still got that phone on you?" Steve asked you softly.

"I do."

"Is it still unregistered?"

"You know it is. Who're we calling?"

"Reinforcements. We're gonna need help now that the Avengers will be looking for us. We gotta get to Siberia."

"Here," you agreed, unlocking the device and handing it over. "Who's first on your list?"

"Any Avenger who didn't sign the Sokovia Accords."

When he walked away with Sam again, you turned to face your lover directly; staring into swirling storms of baby blues. "You still with me?" You asked softly, reaching up to caress his hair again to push it behind his ear.

"Always. Got my six?"

"You know I do, baby," you smirked, stepping into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. "We'll figure this out, together."

"Together," he agreed, sighing deeply and returning your embrace tightly. His flesh hand rose to hold the back of your head, bringing his lips down to lay a chaste kiss on the top of your head. His voice rattled quietly, "Thank you..."

"Hmm? For what, handsome?"

"Believing in me. It's nice to think we can end this torment."

You smiled up at him, "You deserve freedom, Bucky, and to live without this haunting fear."

"I don't know about 'deserving' it, sweetheart. Done a lot of things that would argue against that."

"Maybe against the Winter Soldier, but Bucky deserves the world. Deserves kindness, accommodation, love and understanding. Now," you smirked and sniffled, giving his waist another squeeze before releasing and pulling back, "get your head outta this pit and focus, we've got a long day ahead of us."

He agreed, letting you take his hand and lace fleshy fingers together in a tether. Sam's face remained stoic and passive, but when Steve saw you two, he couldn't help but smile. Two years he hunted for Bucky and just today, he's learned his best friend's been shacked up with you - a warmth blooming in his chest over the idea of you two finding one another and loving each other.

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buckyysdoll · 10 months

Text

— “𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥” —

જ⁀➴ — 18+ MDNI — summary: literally just sex; a/n: i edited this drunk at 3.30am in a hotel room, so i can only apologise; cw: sort of dark! bucky (eg brief choking), p in v, use of pet names “sweetheart, doll”; pairing: bucky x f!reader

MAIN MASTERLIST

The pounding of his cock was relentless, driving deep until he bottomed out in full. He retreated some inches — yielding little, giving less — and over again was the strong, hard length of him inside you. The only sounds in the room were lewd as he took his sweet time taking you, twin breaths coming heavy as you both tried and failed to regain a composure that just wouldn’t come.

You’d been at it for hours by now, and yet release could not be chased despite how hard you tried.

He’d groaned at the first slide of his cock into your warmth, and the narrative had been coming ever since — an endless stream. Who knew Bucky Barnes — the damn Winter Soldier — was so vocal in bed? Though if there was one person who wouldn’t complain it was you; you could barely form words as it was.

“Fuck” was the first word he'd said, though, and now was a mantra he could only repeat. It had been drawn out and lost in his throat but was now more assertive — he had taken control.

As if you’d ever not been at the mercy of his words and heated touch; as if anything else could ever rule you the same way that he could:

So damn absolutely.

For in an instant of him being within you, you had pulled him in so tight that you felt his cock strain, muscles tensing. You’d clawed at his back and Bucky had tried damn fucking hard not to come there and then; it was an effort to allow you to adjust to his length without letting his release spill inside.

The truth? You really just felt that fucking good. It seemed as though you had been made just for him.

It was because of this, all for this then, that you were now still lying spread on your back, wet thighs hot with your thorough arousal and the multiple times tonight you’d already come. You were so sore, so thoroughly ruined, that even a slight shiver of touch made you ache, but he’d have you in any way that he could until he thoroughly owned you.

He had told you as much.

But it was praise that now fell from those beautiful lips that were parted in the absence of breath; as he pushed further and deeper inside you, a litany of curses blessed the words that he spoke.

Bucky’s mouth was hot and wet in the curve between your shoulder and neck, stirring your nerves with each depraved word that he spoke into your skin like a prayer.

Like you were all he could see.

"Fuck yes, that's a good girl. Taking me so well, I’d think you're made for this cock." There it was again — that soft, soft praise. So warming that it heated both your heart and your core, too.

Indeed, the words were further pronounced with a harder, deeper thrust of his hips, and a spasm of pleasure flushed into your stomach at the truer, slanted angle of him in you.

When you started to clench on him, around him, the change was apparent and well known to Bucky; you were so close to finally coming again that as it neared you could barely even breathe through it.

For hours, you’d been edged and barely coherent with the need he'd openly refused, not deigning to satiate the ache between your legs and only wanting to build it.

You were fucking desperate.

It didn’t matter that your pussy had clenched on his tongue as he fucked you with his mouth just before, holding your hips down despite your protests that the feeling was too much, that you just couldn’t bear it.

Neither did your body care that so too had it been him that had urged you to take his fingers, and you'd already come on his cock enough times that you craved to only feel that full again.

You needed more.

And so it was that since then he’d been edging you into a mess. Only good girls got to come so many times in just one night.

And good girls begged.

Bucky had taunted that even now, after coming so much, it wouldn’t ever be enough — you were so cockdrunk that he thought, why even let you have more? Your pleasure was something only he could give so freely.

And you hadn’t yet earned it again.

The quiet mocking in his voice was almost enough, and you were so so close that it hurt. But —

If you could just “hold it" like he'd ordered, he said, then would come your last reward. And as it happened you had, and this now was it:

His cock again, again, and again.

The splinters of memory from your drawn-out night were now interrupted by Bucky's voice again at your ear, his vibranium hand so cool in its kiss as it held to your throat, giving just enough pressure.

You were compliant in his arms and he knew it, adored it, soaked up every single second of submission.

"How can such a good girl also be such a whore for me, hm? You're letting me use you like this, doll, just letting me take you however I want.”

You couldn't say a thing, could only whimper. Thoughts surfaced and broke. The sure, steady feeling of Bucky inside you getting rougher by the minute had you so sensitive that the threat of release coiled up through your stomach before you could stop it.

It was a good job then that he noticed the look in your eyes, in your tear-stained cheeks. That your fractured, desperate whimper of "Please" as you clutched to his back was at last granted some mercy.

But first —

"Tell me who you belong to." His tone was commanding, pure masculine authority. Now though, so lost to heat, you could barely make his words out through too much stimulation. Your entire world had narrowed to the thick, hard length inside you as he pushed in to your warmth, pulled out. Again and again and again.

And oh, fuck. Oh God, you were close. So close to coming that you wanted to weep.

You might've even actually done it but no shock of tears fell from your heavy-lidded eyes, and then a sharp little pull at your skin was revealed as Bucky’s teeth at your shoulder, impatient.

It was just as much warning as you'd get this time, but then your mouth regained its power to talk. All at once you came to realise that you hadn’t yet replied; Bucky’s order — the command in his voice — had so far been ignored.

And he didn’t like that.

"You Bucky, just you. Just you. " God, you were so close again but he just didn't even care. Every time your sex clenched and Bucky’s cock twitched in response, he only pulled out every time.

Or almost every. Not anymore.

Bucky now needed that wetness to coat him, needed to feel you tight and warm around his cock as you came. Needed to let himself go to release in the one place on earth he ever wanted to, now.

And so your admission broke the bonds of his subtle control, and he just ground out “Say it again." You did, and repeated it over and again with each thrust of his hips, with each groan.

You meant it and felt it with each piece of your heart as you mounted that swift sure precipice, building up higher even still as the tightly wound coil of arousal in you threatened to spill.

And so, with breath hitched and hips rolling up to match his own, your body frantic with the need to come again even after so much you'd been granted, you clenched around his cock at last as your vision was drowned in white, all and only for him.

Dark spots pricked at your coherence until every part of you was fused with Bucky, your nails at his back a last reminder that he anchored you to earth as a shattering orgasm swept you up in its tide.

And didn’t let go.

It was only a mere second later that Bucky's own thrusts grew less controlled, and his breathing pitched lower and far more erratic as he pounded, hips rolling as he came.

An ocean of warmth descended in the space between your thighs, and you still clawed at his back with weak fingers as soft aftershocks wracked through you with the force of your release.

Spent, Bucky stayed in you long after both of your breathing had slowed, his mouth and tongue working softly to soothe the bold, purple marks his teeth had made at your chest. Time passed that could’ve been minutes or hours and you spent it in blissed-out silence, your head to his chest and his heartbeat calming beneath your ear.

It was your favourite sound.

The only break in the quiet was him saying in a whisper, “Get some sleep, sweetheart.” And with his hands stroking down through your hair in such slow, soothing moves, your eyes at last drifted closed.

The last thing you heard was once again that soft praise: “You were so good for me,” and then darkness.

✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

#fanfic #s. smut ๋࣭ ⭑#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes hcs #james bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x wife!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut

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