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coffeecatsandcandles · 3 years

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𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐧

➵ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You and Bucky reflect on your failed marriage.

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | exhusband!Bucky Barnes x f!reader (ft. two unnamed Barnes daughters)

➵ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.3k

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | ANGST, mention of sex, divorce, mention of arguing, loneliness, birth mention, mention of a little blood.

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

It was mid-October, a rather windy day, but that didn’t stop your daughters from wanting to go to the park. It was about to be Bucky’s time with them, and he agreed that the park would be the spot you’d meet to drop the girls off with him.

You two had barely talked since the divorce. Nothing longer than a few sentences. The guilt ate you up, you knew he was taking it hard, but you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. Your marriage was done for, whether you liked it or not. Months of barely talking to each other, rearranging schedules, and broken promises. He was never home; he was always on a mission, whether he was just out of town or completely out of the country. He was putting your lives in danger with his work, you both knew that. But he always vowed to keep you and the girls safe. But that wouldn’t ease the stress of wondering if someone would just show up one day to get their revenge on something Bucky had been brainwashed into doing years ago. He told you he’d rather die than have that happen, but it never truly made you feel any more comfortable.

You weren’t exactly perfect either. You were slacking as a wife and you knew it. You were just so caught up in your work and raising your children that you barely had time for Bucky anymore. He’d stay up for you, even though you told him not to, because he wanted to see you when you got home. But when you did, you were always too tired to talk. Too tired to eat. Too emotionally and physically drained to do anything but sleep.

It was you who decided that separation was the best option. Bucky barely spoke to you after you told him. He was cold. Distant. He slept on the couch downstairs, insisting you had the bed that was once shared between the two of you. Knowing you didn’t have the stress of whether or not you were being a good wife helped you tremendously. You were taking better care of yourself, better care of your girls. You both saw it. Bucky moved out after agreeing that splitting up was the best thing to do. It was against his wishes and not at all what he wanted, but if it made you happy, he’d do it, no questions asked.

It had been ten months since your divorce was finalized. Bucky had his own house now, close enough so that it wasn’t out of the way for you or too far away from the girls’ school. You co-parented and had the girls swap houses every two weeks. It was a routine at this point.

Once you parked the car, your daughters were already running to the swing set, hoping to grab the last two available swings before any other child did. You got out and spotted Bucky a few yards away, sitting alone on a bench. You walked over, knowing you were now forced to make conversation.

“Hey,” Bucky said as he saw you. He’d cut his hair since the last time you saw him. He was also cleanshaven. He looked exactly like how he did on your wedding day.

“Are you nervous? You know if you want to make a run for it, there’s still time.” Sam said, linking your arm with his.

“Honestly, I’m not.” You said, surprised. Maybe it was the glass of wine you had an hour ago, but you were more than ready for Bucky to become your husband. You’d been anxiously waiting for this day for years, and it was finally here.

“Nerves of steel. I don’t know why I expected anything less.” Sam laughed as he walked with you. With your parents no longer in the picture, you asked Sam to walk you down the aisle. The two of you made it to the end of the aisle, just a few yards away from where Bucky and Rhodey were waiting for you. This wasn’t at all how either of you pictured it. You remembered Bucky wanting Steve, Tony, and Natasha there. But they were gone. Sacrificed their lives so you could have this moment. And you honestly felt a little guilty. Who were you to be so happy? You looked to your right. Pepper sat with Morgan as her child gushed over your dress. Clint, Laura and their children sat watching you and Sam make your way towards Bucky. Bucky. He didn’t have his best friend at his wedding.

You wanted to feel happy, but in all honesty, all you felt was guilt.

“Hi,” you said, sitting next to your ex-husband. The wind made your hands freezing, so you tucked them into your jacket sleeves.

“How were the girls?” Bucky said, trying to make small talk.

“They were fine. Rowdier than usual.”

“That might be Sam’s fault. Sorry.” Bucky let out a chuckle at the memory of Uncle Sam play fighting with the girls two weeks earlier. They loved play fighting with him because he always let them win. You hadn’t seen Sam in months.

You laughed lightly, “It’s okay.”

This didn’t feel right. You felt like strangers.

“Do you think they’ve been adjusting well? To all this, I mean.” You said bluntly. It had been a question that’d been on your mind for months now. Your daughters were five and eight years old. Too young to understand divorce but old enough to understand how much their lives changed from it, and how if you weren’t civil with Bucky, they’d remember it forever.

“I think so,” Bucky said, “I haven’t noticed anything… irregular.” There was a beat of silence after you nodded. “You know, you worry too much.” Bucky said. You could tell he didn’t mean it in a mean way, he was more concerned for you than anything.

“It’s kind of my job to worry.” You said, “Besides, we all know what happens when you’re the one worrying.”

Bucky laughed, “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Buck, my contractions are twenty minutes apart, we have plenty of time.” You said, trying to grab your frantic husband’s arm to calm him down. Though you were in an intense amount of pain, you couldn’t show it. Not when Bucky was like this.

Bucky had been up and down the stairs, packing the car with your bags since the minute you went into labor. The doctors told you it could happen at any moment, you just didn’t expect it to be right now.

“Just deep breaths, honey, you can get through it.” He encouraged you, grabbing onto your hand and leading you to the car faster than you could walk. He helped buckle you in, placed a kiss on your covered bump, and made his way to the other side of the car. “Let’s have a baby.” He said, leaning in to kiss you.

You were terrified. You had never done anything like this before. Nothing this intense. But you couldn’t show any of it right now, not when he was like this.

Eighteen and a half hours later, your first baby was cradled in your arms as you fed her.

“You’re incredible.” Bucky said, placing a kiss on your lips, then your daughter’s head, “How the hell did you do that?”

“I don’t know.” You lightly laughed, looking at your daughter’s precious face.

“I love you both so much.” He said.

“We love you,” you said, “but I think this one is full.” You gestured towards your newborn, who had unlatched.

“I’ll get you a burp cloth,” he said, heading over to the overnight bag you’d spent an entire day packing and preparing.

You closed your eyes, breathing in and savoring the moment. You felt so powerful after going through all those hours of labor and pain. Though you were still shaking from the labor pains, when you saw your baby’s face, all of it was worth it. And you were so happy to be sharing that moment, stepping into this new, exciting experience with Bucky.

“Oh shit,” Bucky said, taking you out of your moment, “Oh god. Oh no.”

Your heart started pounding. “What? What’s wrong?”

Bucky took the duffle bag that was identical to yours and pulled out electronics and equipment from the lab of the Avengers compound. “I grabbed the wrong bag.” He admitted, obviously embarrassed.

You couldn’t help but laugh, grateful that the hospital would supply you with what you needed for the day. “It’s okay. Just call Sam, this is exactly why I gave him our house key.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure my duffle bag had a pink tag on it.” You said, putting your hands up in defense. This felt better. The mood was better, more playful. You were friends.

There was another moment of silence, both of you scanning the playground for your daughters. Your youngest was running to her sister, a big smile plastered on her face before she tripped over her own feet, falling on the pavement and seemingly hurting herself. It all happened so quickly, but both you and Bucky were on your feet and heading towards her, almost instinctively.

“Oh, sweetie,” you said, watching your daughter focus on her deep breaths to keep herself from crying. It was something both you and Bucky had taught her at a young age. It didn’t help the tantrums like you thought it would, but in moments like this, you were grateful she wasn’t screaming in pain. You turned to Bucky, “I have a first-aid kit in my car, can you grab it?” He nodded as you handed him your keys and he made his way to your car. “Oh, my baby girl, are you okay?” you said in your most comforting tone. Your five-year-old took one look at her bloodied knee as you pulled up her pant leg and the tears started flowing. She buried her face in your shirt, muffling her pained sobs. It was only a scrape, but you knew it was a lot of pain for a child to handle.

Bucky returned a few moments later, first-aid kit in hand, and his heart breaking at the sound of his daughter’s cries. He always hated seeing his babies hurt. He scooped up your daughter in his arms, carrying her back to the bench where he and you were originally sat. You grabbed a bandage and medicine to clean the wound, and right away your daughter began to panic.

Her nose was sniffly from crying, and knowing the medicine would sting, she jerked her leg away from you. “Hold on, it’s okay. Mom’s gonna take care of you.” Bucky said, hoping to calm her down, “You wanna hold my hand?” he asked, offering his vibranium hand. Your daughter shyly nodded, and Bucky adjusted the two of them to where she was sat in his lap, holding his hand, while you sat beside them.

They always went to Bucky for comfort, so much so that it annoyed you. You could never be the one to calm them down after a tantrum or help them go back to sleep after having a nightmare. It always had to be him, and he loved every minute of it. He loved every part about being a dad.

Bucky had fallen asleep with two-year-old daughter in his arms for the fifth time that week. You weren’t sure what it was that annoyed you about it. Maybe it was because you were used to having him in bed with you. Maybe it was because you felt like he was straying away, and this was just another sign of him wanting time away from you.

“Buck…” you said, gently shaking him awake. “Come back to bed.”

Bucky slowly opened his eyes and looked down at his toddler, who was fast asleep as well. “Sorry,” he said, “she’s just so perfect.”

You couldn’t even remember the last time he said that about you. He used to say it all the time, how grateful he was that you were in his life and how perfect you were in his eyes. You’d gotten used to it, and now it wasn’t happening as much. Since your first baby, and now with this second, every compliment was reserved for them. You admired his relationship with your children, truly, but it made you feel less than. Every time he asked to reschedule a night you had planned for just the two of you to do something for your daughters, every time he stayed up with them instead of with you, it felt like a dagger in your chest. Hell, you couldn’t even remember the last time he kissed you.

Maybe it was just a rough patch. Maybe you could fix this.

You watched as Bucky set your daughter back in her bed, rubbing his tired eyes and giving her a gentle kiss on her head. Before the two of you got the chance to leave the room, you wrapped your arms around him and gave him a long, passionate kiss. It was almost desperate, like you wanted him to know you were still fighting for him. He didn’t get the chance to kiss you back before you suggestively snaked your hands under his shirt, hoping that the two of you would just make love and all would be forgiven.

“Not tonight, love.” He whispered, trying not to wake your daughter, “I’m really tired.”

You couldn’t even suppress your eyeroll and exasperated sigh as you made your way back to your bedroom, with Bucky not far behind.

“What?” he asked.

“I can’t even remember the last time we had sex, Buck. I just want to fix whatever this thing is between us. It’s exhausting trying to keep this alive.”

“What are you talking about? I thought we were okay.”

“Buck, you hardly spend any time with me anymore. And I know it’s all spent with the girls and you have no idea how grateful I am that you’re so active in their lives, but Jesus, I feel like you’re slipping away from me.”

Bucky was truly at a loss for words. He didn’t even think he’d been acting any different with you. He still loved you endlessly, and as he thought about it, he realized that you were right. He had been spending more time with the girls than with you.

He tried to make it better as time passed. He got up extra early to spend time with you, the two of you made breakfast together every morning, he even tried setting up a date night where he took the girls over to Sam’s for the night. But nothing changed. The two of you stayed in for the date night, and it was spent arguing. You told him how you didn’t feel appreciated and how you felt like he didn’t love you. It was hard for him to hear, especially because there was never a moment where he stopped loving you. Even when the arguing and crying died down and you came to the agreement to separate, his heart was still in your hands.

“There we go,” you said, putting the band-aid on your daughter’s knee, “you feel better?”

She shyly nodded, still sniffling, “I wanna go home.” She said quietly.

“Okay, I’ll go get your sister.” Bucky said, getting up and searching for your eldest child. He found her in a couple of minutes, and soon enough the three of them were heading to his car. “Hold on, hold on, go say goodbye to your mom.” He said. The girls had grown accustomed to this, saying goodbye every two weeks to one parent and moving between houses. You kneeled down to their level, your daughters soon engulfing you with their hugs, then they went off to Bucky’s car and he strapped them into their seats.

Bucky wanted to say so much more to you. How even still, he was madly in love with you and everything you did. Even when you told him you wanted to separate, he did it because he knew it was what was best for you. He wondered if he’d every get anyone to love him the way you did, or if he’d ever fall as deeply in love with another person as he did with you. He wanted to let you know that he didn’t think he’d ever find someone like you again, and that though it killed him to be without you, the thing that kept him going was that you were okay.

You were okay without him. It killed him and kept him going at the same time.

He wanted to be the one to protect you, to love you and to be your safety. You would never have to feel alone, sleep alone, or even get rid of a bug in the house because you had him. Serving you, loving you, being your partner, he believed that was his purpose. Not fighting, not learning how to live his life without the only person who could possibly understand what he’d gone through, Steve, not to adjust to the new decade. You were his purpose. And you were completely fine without him.

The days without the girls were the longest. He’d spend them wandering Brooklyn, looking for something to do instead of sulking alone. But the nights were the worst part. He’d toss and turn, unable to sleep in an empty bed. Your laugh would echo in his mind, the imagined noise keeping him awake, and after a few weeks, his nightmares started to come back. His body, his mind, they were used to having you there to comfort him. Maybe that was your breaking point, maybe you couldn’t handle how much he needed you anymore. You’d told him it was because he was distant, and he couldn’t help but agree. He’d grown more distant, but it was all to keep you and the girls safe.

“Bye Mama!” your youngest waved to you as Bucky finished buckling her in, seemingly forgetting all about her hurt knee. Your oldest waved goodbye to you as well, clutching onto a doll she’d left in Bucky’s car the last time they were with him. You knew that because she’d grown upset, crying because she’d forgotten it at the beginning of your two weeks, and you were too nervous to call Bucky to get him to drop it off. You didn’t want to make conversation with him just yet, worried he was upset with you.

You waved goodbye to your daughters as Bucky started the car, giving you a quick wave before driving off. Now alone, you weren’t sure what to do with your time. Your house was empty, your daughters’ laughs and voices while playing no longer filling the air. Bucky even had a cat now to keep him company, and the girls adored that the most about their dad’s house. You didn’t have an animal for them. You could just stay home and drink your sorrows away for the next two weeks, but you knew that wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Instead, you sat back down on the bench, watching the other children play.

You tried to ignore the sight of some of the children’s parents kissing each other, completely and utterly happy with the lives they were leading and had made for themselves. It just made you feel more alone. That was you once. In love, watching your children play happily with your husband holding your hand or kissing your lips. You knew what that felt like, and you gave it up. In the long run, you knew it was for the best. You had been better since you ended things. But you couldn’t help but want that again, that perfect relationship. One that wasn’t exhausting, that wasn’t built on guilt and worries. One that could be saved if you’d ever gotten to that point.

But you had to face reality. Bucky was in your life forever, but you would both spend it wishing things could’ve been different.

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becca-e-barnes · 3 years

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hi Becs! I just read what you wrote about romantic ex husband Bucky and how that's not you cup if tea so I was thinkinggggg...

what abour ex husband Bucky but smutty? Maybe reader and Buck got a divorce but they still have a good relationship because they have children and maybe they see each other again at a school event (like a sports day, graduation or something like that) and reader just looks STUNNING and Buck looses it.

He gests back home and he can't stop thinking about reader and how she looks, and how great the sex was and god he gets so hard he has to touch himself. I'm a sucker for men masturbating and what they think about. So he comes so hard he takes his phone and calls the reader to confess. You can finish it there or maybe reader answers and teases him a lot but they end up having sex or whatever you think appropiate

Thank u in advance, I love reading you ❤

THIS IS MORE MY STYLE!! THANK YOU FOR GETTING ME BACK ON TRACK, I don't really enjoy spiralling into angst!

I'm thinking maybe like, your kids parent teacher meetings? So you'd went to the school to meet Bucky straight after work and he can't get over the fact you look so effortlessly beautiful. You're just in a nice blouse and some dress trousers but God, his eyes just don't leave your ass.

And then maybe the teacher calls you "Mrs Barnes" and you smile softly and correct her, giving her your maiden name but it's been so long since Bucky heard anyone refer to you as his wife that his dick twitches in his pants. His head is just flooded by the memory of all the times he called you that in bed, breathlessly rutting into you, fucking you so mindless and pliant.

So of course by the time he's kissed your cheek goodbye (and realised you're wearing the perfume he bought you for the last Christmas you spent together), he has one thing on his mind.

It doesn't take him long to wind up naked on his bed, fisting his cock in his flesh hand, groaning at how his hand rubs over his own sensitive tip. No amount of spit or lube can compare to how you used to feel. You were so tight and wet it drove him feral, his hand just doesn't feel the same. But then he's remembering the sweet curve of your ass in those trousers and the way it used to bounce when he slammed into you doggy-style, both of you watching yourselves make love in the bedroom mirror.

His hand speeds up just a little, a hiss gets dragged from his pretty lips before he tugs the bottom one between his teeth, willing himself to slow down and just enjoy the feeling but he can't even find it in himself to savour it. He just needs to get it over with and clear his head of thoughts of you.

He can't let himself think about the fact he can only get off to you. He can't finish if he thinks of anyone else, porn isn't even appealing unless the actress looks like you. But that's a worry for another day

Because right now there's a knot in his tummy, it's tightening with every tug of his hand and thoughts of your hot little mouth fill his head. He knows he's done for when he remembers that time you gave him head in the kitchen, right after you'd first bought the house.

"You look so sweet like that Mrs Barnes." He'd groaned, watching you bob your head on his length before sinking down to take as much of him down your throat as you could handle. "Fuck, can't believe you're my wife. All fuckin' mine." He couldn't forget the way that you groaned every single time he called you 'Mrs Barnes'. No sound ever sounded as sweet as that moan of yours.

And that's how he finishes. Fucking into his own lubed up fist, his abs tight and his body taught, spilling all over himself and the clean white sheets beneath him. Old habits die hard because he can't stop whimpering your old title, begging his 'Mrs Barnes' to keep sucking him, getting too wrapped up in the fantasy for his own good.

But the post nut clarity doesn't hit him how he expects it to. Rather than driving thoughts of you from his head, it only gets worse. A shower doesn't help, dinner doesn't help. The only thing that helps is when he picks up the phone late at night and calls you, against his better judgement.

And as soon as you hear "Are the kids in bed, angel?" in a needy growl, you know what's coming. And it's nice to know that's he's spent his evening thinking the exact same kinds of thoughts as you have

#asks answered <3 #anon #becca writes spice #exhusband!bucky #Bucky barnes smut #Bucky barnes x reader #I actually loved writing this!!#I got carried away #as usual #But this was hot #and I vibe with ex-husband!bucky

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coffeecatsandcandles · 2 years

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《 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐎𝐮𝐫𝐬 》

A Bucky Barnes x Reader series created by US.

➵ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Bucky Barnes has been raising his girls, Rebecca and Winnie, for the last two years. He'd lost all hope of falling in love again until he met you, a pediatrician with two children of your own- Elliot and Willow. He falls in love and he falls hard, but the challenges of being single parents still weigh on you both at times. Luckily, you'll always have each other.

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | singledad!Bucky Barnes x singlemom!pediatrician!Reader

(Featuring exhusband!Pietro Maximoff, exwife!Natasha Romanoff, OC's Rebecca Barnes, Winnie Barnes, Elliot Maximoff, and Willow Maximoff)

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Some chapters will contain smut (18+, minors DNI), divorce, separation, single parents, mentions of pregnancy, remarriage, stepparents. Not too angsty but still a good amount of angst, mostly fluff.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Remember about a month ago when we created the basics for a new Bucky x Reader series together? It's finished, and I am so excited to finally share the chapter titles and post days with you all! The names of the children, character relationships and occupations, and a few moments were chosen BY YOU, MY LOVELY FOLLOWERS! You picked the basics, and I wrote it.

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

Chapter I- Dr. Maximoff

Chapter II- Parent Day

Chapter III- Jealousy

Chapter IV- Ex's and Oh's

Chapter V- A Second Chance

Chapter VI- Welcome Back

Chapter VII- Candid

Chapter VIII- Beautiful Boy

Chapter IX- Home Sweet Home

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noctumbra · 2 years

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respectfully i would like to hear dilf!exhusband!bucky tell me, “gotta be quiet, baby” as he rails me over the couch because the kids are asleep upstairs and he came back over after sunday night dinner since he conveniently ‘forgot his wallet’ — you both know it was because you were wearing his favourite dress and the man can’t help himself 🙄

god, mae, you know exactly where to hit me sjfhdsf

smut prompt #1: "Gotta be quiet, baby.”

warnings: smut, +18, couch sex, dirty talk, pet names, kissing, degrading, light breath play, implied infidelity (dilf!esxhusband!bucky x reader)

───

Maybe you shouldn't have invited him inside and should have just brought his 'forgotten wallet' to him while he waited by the door. You didn't what you should have, though, and invited him inside.

"Be quiet, kids are asleep," you murmured like he didn't know. He helped you tuck them for the night. Still, he nodded as he followed you silently to the living room. "Where did you put it?" You asked him without looking. Your eyes were darting around to locate the rectangle, black wallet that he had for years. When you didn't hear an answer, you turned around: He was right behind you, so you came face to face with him. You swallowed thickly.

"You really thought I forgot my wallet?" He asked you with a low voice, a soft growl rumbled through his chest, and you shivered. "You were always a dumb baby for me..." He whispered as he lifted one his hands to slide a finger under the thin strap of your dress. You shivered once again when his fingers stroked your already sensitive skin.

"Bucky..." You whispered. "You should go." He hummed.

"Do you really want me to?" He murmured. "I think we both know that you don't..." He leaned down to kiss your now bare shoulder, his beard scratching the skin and sending goosebumps all over your body. Bucky took another step forward and cornered you against the couch. "Did you forget how good we felt when we were together? You couldn't find someone who knows your body as well as I do, could you?" He chuckled darkly.

"Bucky..." You whispered again, but your body betrayed as your eyes closed and your head fell back, giving him space to work on. Bucky hummed again. He placed his plush lips on your pulse, teeth nipping softly as his lips sucked the skin. "No─ No marks. Can't explain it to the kids."

"Spoilsport," he rasped and pulled back. His hands moved to your thighs, and they rucked your dress up, one metal and one flesh hand slid under the soft fabric. You inhaled shakily. As his hands traveled north, your face started to burn up madly.

"Um," you started but stopped, you didn't know what to say. Bucky gasped lightly first, when he found out that you weren't wearing panties, and growled.

"You were waiting for me to come at you, hm?" He rumbled. "Lookit you... No panties. You're dripping on my fingers, dolly." You moaned softly. His fingers teased with your slit but never slipped inside. You were so close to begging him to do something when he turned you around and bent your over the armrest of the couch.

"Bucky!" You whimpered. His lips were at your nape, kissing and biting, while his hands were busy rucking your dress skirt up and taking his cock out of the pants.

"Gotta be quiet, baby," he rasped. "Kids are sleeping, we don't wanna wake them up and have them find us like this, now, do we?" He placed a kiss between your shoulder blades. You shuddered. "Spread your legs," he ordered, and you complied without a thought. "Good dolly. Good, baby, so good." You heard him shuffle behind you and a foil being ripped open. You could see him putting the condom on and giving himself a couple strokes before he slid in you.

You moaned while he cursed. "Shit," he breathed. "You always took my cock so well," he murmured. "I always knew you were made to take my cock... God." He bit his lip and started thrusting.

The pace he had was slow at first. He was making you feel every vein and throb his cock had, letting you enjoy the way he filled you up to the brink and letting you adjust to having his cock in your pussy again. Then, he picked up the slow pace and started to slam inside you.

"Fuck," you whispered and moaned lowly. Bucky leaned forward and wrapped his metal arm around your neck, pulling you upright and plastering his chest to your back. He was pounding in and out of you now. The back of your thigs were kissing his own, making the skin-slapping-skin sound at the most obscene way. You could hear your pussy squelching. "Bucky!" You whimpered.

"Fuckin'─" He cursed and cut himself off with a moan. He freed your other arm from the strap of your dress and pushed the front of your dress down. His flesh found one of your breasts, fingers plucking your nipple and palm covering your whole boob. You panted wetly.

He felt so good in you. He filled you up so nicely, and his cock stroked every single sensitive part in your pussy perfectly. You let out a loud, whorish moan.

"Shit!" He exclaimed and closed his metal palm over your moan. "I said be quiet, slut," he hissed into your ear and started putting all his strength into his thrusts. His balls were hitting your clit with every movement. Your clit was throbbing whenever his cock head nudged that one spot in you.

"'m cl's," you murmured behind his hand. Bucky hummed. His chest was making soft growly noises.

"I know," he whispered. "Your pussy is so tight around my cock. Know you're about to come," he added. He bent his knees a little, pulling you on top his thighs while getting some support from the couch, and his thrusts turned into deep strokes. Your eyes crossed, and you could feel your drool smearing around his palm as he pressed it more and more. Breathing was becoming hard, but you didn't care, you felt too good.

"Oh my God," he moaned. You felt his legs tremble slightly under you. "Mhmm, come, dolly," he ordered. "C'mon. I gave you everything your body asked from me. Gimme your come, c'mon." You gasped, a hiccup got trapped in your throat and your eyes rolled back as you came on his cock. Bucky's thrusts stuttered, and he moaned right into your ear. His hand on your breast went tight, nails digging in, and he pressed his metal hand over your mouth and nose more: You could feel his come painting your walls, balls twitching and cock throbbing in you.

After ten seconds, he pulled his hand off your face, and you gasped loudly. Tears, snot and drool were all over your face. As he pulled out, you could feel your juices smearing all around your inner thighs.

"Lookit you, so messy," he grumbled. You were panting still. He took you in his arms, bridal style, and carried you to your bathroom. He placed you in the bath tub and took off your dress and shoes. Bucky cleaned your face from the worst of the fluids and stroked your cheek.

"We fit so nicely once, didn't we?" He murmured softly. "Sadly, we only fit sexually now." You looked at him with your eyes widened, tears were still there. His thumb stroked your bottom lip. "Wish we could still fit into each other's lives, still..." He sighed. You heard his phone ping and watched him pull it out. You knew what it was before he had to say anything to you.

"Go," you rasped. "I can clean myself." You pushed him back. He looked like he wanted to protest, but his phone pinged once again. "Go. She's worried about you, and it's late." He sighed and nodded.

"Thanks," he murmured. "Good night." He stood up and left the bathroom, leaving you in the cold and empty bath tub all naked. You sobbed quietly into the echoing tiles as you curled into the tub.

Wish we could still fit into each other's lives, still, he said. Oh, how badly you wished that was true.

───

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coffeecatsandcandles · 3 years

Text

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

➵ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Without reason, Bucky asks for a divorce.

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | exhusband!bucky x f!reader (ft. twin Barnes daughters, Rebecca and Louise)

➵ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.4k

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Angst, language, arguing, slow burn, SMUT (minors DNI), both you and Bucky are assholes to each other, mild degradation, a hint of praise kink, lowkey sub!bucky and dom!reader. Brief mentions of pregnancy, birth, and postpartum body insecurity.

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

“Thanks for coming over.” You picked up the collection of throw pillows off the floor and placed them onto the couch. It had been three weeks since the divorce was finalized. Three weeks of answering any and all questions your two daughters had, no matter how complicated they were.

How come daddy isn’t here to tuck us in?

Because he lives in a new house.

Why don’t you and daddy live together anymore?

Because we’re not married anymore.

Do you still like each other?

That was always the question that stumped you. Whenever Bucky answered it, he always said the same thing.

“Of course we still like each other. Your mom is still my best friend. We just aren’t married anymore, and we don’t live together anymore.”

You never had an answer to give your daughters because it was too complicated. You loved Bucky since the day you two met. That love grew stronger and stronger over the course of ten years. Every big event in your lives seemed to make your heart grow a size bigger; when he asked you to marry him, your wedding, when you found out you were pregnant- with twins nonetheless- and the birth of your baby girls. You never thought you’d be capable of a love that powerful. In the recent months, Bucky was straying away. He was caught up in his new life as an Avenger, doing mission after mission, traveling from place to place, and he was hardly home. You never seemed to mind and you never said anything about it, and you seemed to have the “being a parent to twins” thing down. The night he returned home after weeks of being gone was when he finally admitted to you that he wanted a divorce.

You almost didn’t believe him at first, but every sign told you that he was one hundred percent serious. Your heart ached. Your chest felt like it had collapsed within your body and you couldn’t even ask him why. But he answered anyway.

“I just feel like we’re never on the same page anymore, we hardly have time for each other. I feel like we only lasted this long because of the girls.”

Fighting tears, you struggled to respond.

“I don’t- I didn’t know you felt that way.” you stuttered.

“I’ve felt this way for a while.” He responded, bringing a harsh, stabbing feeling to your gut. It hurt to hear. While you were still as infatuated with him as you were the day you met, he was slowly falling out of love with you.

“Did I do something? Is there someone else?” you finally blurted. You almost didn’t want to hear the answer, but for your mind’s sake, you needed one.

“No, no. Absolutely not.” Bucky said, grabbing onto your hands, “You still mean the world to me, I just-“ he was searching for the right thing to say. He didn’t want to upset you any more than he already had. “I never saw myself getting married in the first place. I’ve never had anything like this before. I married you because I knew that was something you wanted-“

“Not because you loved me?” You said, growing angrier, “I would’ve been able to handle this if you hadn’t asked me to marry you, if we didn’t have two fucking kids. I thought we were in this together.”

“We still can be, I’m not leaving forever. Those are our babies. Not just mine, Not just yours. Ours. I’m not just going to disappear. You still have me.”

“You’re just done with me.” You said. It was harsh, maybe a little too harsh, but it was true. You were shocked you managed to keep the tears in.

Ever since that awful night, you and Bucky had been living apart. He found a house not too far from yours, and the girls would go there every Friday after school and stay with him for the weekend. You two hardly interacted since you signed your name on that paper, agreeing that your marriage was over even though you didn’t want it to be.

But it was Tuesday. You’d gotten into the flow of only barely seeing him on Friday afternoons when you dropped the girls off at his house, and Sunday evenings when he dropped them off at yours. You didn’t see him on Tuesdays. Hell, you’d barely spoken a word to him in the last three weeks.

You’d gotten a call from your daughters’ teacher. The younger twin, Louise, had gotten cranky and wouldn’t stop crying. She was begging to talk to either you or Bucky. Somehow, in a crazy turn of events, both of you showed up at the school wanting to pick them up.

“What’s wrong, love?” You asked your daughter as soon as you saw her. Her big, puppy dog eyes were red and puffy, and she was sniffling. The school’s counselor informed you that the older twin, Rebecca, was on her way up with her teacher.

“I just missed daddy,” Louise said, her voice small, “I want to go home.” You hated seeing your baby like that. So sad, so helpless, so shy. She’d gotten her shyness from both you and Bucky, and no matter how involved and extroverted you tried to make your daughters, they still dealt with more anxiety and more shyness than a normal five-year-old child would. The divorce played a big part in that. It never seemed to be an issue until you started living apart. But like the both of you, your girls were smart. They caught on, no matter how normal and seamless you both attempted to make this transition.

You watched as Bucky effortlessly picked up your daughter, kissing the top of her little head. “I missed you too, bug.” He said. It wasn’t like they never saw each other, your girls were just extra affectionate after he’d be gone for long periods of time. They were too young to understand the complexities of his job, they just knew that he was gone a lot. You would be gone a lot too, but not as much anymore. You sort of had to put your career on hold for the time being. You used to be in STEM, working closely with Dr. Banner and Tony Stark and just a few weeks shy of getting your PhD. Big opportunities were heading your way, but you had to put all of it on pause for this fucking divorce that you didn’t even want.

You were used to being the bad guy. All your daughters had to do was bat their little eyelashes at Bucky and he’d melt. He couldn’t say no to them no matter how hard he tried, and they knew it. They were completely wrapped around his vibranium finger. You’d take the fall for him. You’d be the one to get them to eat their vegetables, go to bed on time, even clean their messes once they got old enough, because he just couldn’t. At first it was cute, after a while it got frustrating. Now, it felt like neither of them wanted to live with you anymore.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky said, helping you make the living room look more presentable instead of like a tornado had just flown by. Suddenly, you were back in your living room, now snapped out of the events of the last 12 hours playing out in your head. When the girls were babies, you’d do this exact thing every other night with him, then try not to fall asleep on the couch together as you’d talk about your days or whatever was going on in your lives at the time, “I kinda missed being here. It’s too quiet at my place.”

Then come home, you wanted to scream. You simply gave a weak smile in response.

“I’ve never seen her act like that.” He said, referring to the additional tantrum Louise had thrown once you all came back to your house. Bucky alluded to the idea of him going back to his house, and Louise began to cry again, shouting “No! Daddy, don’t go!” over and over again. You knew when Bucky got emotional. He didn’t tear up, he didn’t take a moment for himself to gather his emotions. He pushed it all aside and turned stern. He asked you if it was okay that he stayed until the girls went to bed. Wanting some sort of calm, you allowed it. You all had dinner, which was only awkward for the two of you, and he tucked the girls in and read them to sleep, just like he would when he was living in your house. When you were still a somewhat normal family.

“She just misses you. I think it’s all starting to hit her now and she doesn’t know how to handle it.”

“I thought we were making this normal for them.”

“This isn’t normal, James,” you finally said, frustrated. Even when you were married you never showed this type of frustration with him. He never gave you a reason to. “It shouldn’t be normal for them. You and I both know the kind of toll this takes on a kid, no matter how normal you try to make it.” You assumed that both of you had an unspoken agreement that something like this wouldn’t happen. You both were in this- life, kids, marriage- together, no matter what.

Bucky didn’t respond. He knew you were right, and he hated it. He knew you had a fire in you whenever you were upset. He decided to drop it and move on. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d screwed up in some way, he just couldn’t figure out when or how. He knew you were upset about the divorce by the way you reacted when he mentioned it, but what stuck with him was when he spotted you in the parking lot after the divorce was finalized. He’d parked a few cars down from you on the opposite side, so he could see you as you sat in the front seat but hadn’t yet started your car. Within seconds, he watched you sob uncontrollably from a distance. He still hated to see you cry. He thought he’d feel better after this meeting, but he just felt worse, especially after seeing you. He watched as you reached for your phone- probably to message someone, but you decided not to. He contemplated getting out of his car and comforting you, but he knew that was probably the last thing you wanted.

“How’s work been?” You asked, wanting more than anything to change the subject.

“Tiring. I was thinking maybe once school is out I could take the girls to New Orleans to visit Sam’s family for a week.”

“Oh?” You asked.

“Yeah, he’s been dying to see the girls again. His nephews are the sweetest kids.”

“Is that going to be safe?” You asked. You thought it was a valid question, but the annoyance on Bucky’s face suggested otherwise.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was safe.” He said.

“I’ve heard that before,” you muttered, remembering one time where Bucky wanted to take you and the girls, who were less than a year old at the time, to Brooklyn, but he hadn’t yet fully adjusted to civilian life. The crowds of people were too overwhelming, and he got a few dirty looks and yells from people who had recognized him as The Winter Soldier.

“You know everyone there, nothing bad would happen. Plus Sam would be there.”

“And what am I supposed to do? Stay here and sulk without either of them here, or tag along with you as your ex-wife and make things awkward?”

“It doesn’t have to be like that-“

“I don’t want them being anywhere but here.”

“Who says you can make that decision?”

“Me, as their mother.” This was the first real argument you two have had since he told you he wanted to split up. Your heart was racing, but you were standing your ground.

“See, this is what I’m talking about. Us not being on the same page ever. You think you can just tell me what’s best for my daughters?”

“We both agreed that we wouldn’t say things like that. They’re not yours. They’re not mine. They’re ours. And yes, I know what’s right or them because they’ve been staying with me for four and a half days a week. I put my entire life on hold to take care of them, I know what’s best for them.”

“You make me sound like some sort of deadbeat dad, you know that?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” You could’ve yelled if you wanted to, but you knew both of your children were asleep upstairs. You couldn’t wake them, at least not like this. “I can’t say anything to them, I can’t make you look like an asshole because I know they love you so much. Sometimes I feel like they love you more than me. I would be a terrible person if I made them believe that you would just walk away like you did. I thought we were okay, I thought we were fine. But you- you just-“ Your voice got small. You hadn’t been this vulnerable with him in years, “You just broke my heart.” You stopped any and all tears from coming to the surface. He couldn’t see you cry. You had to continue to stand your ground.

You looked away from him, making yourself busy with the basket of laundry that had been sitting on the coffee table for two days. You never found the time to get it done with both of your daughters keeping you busy.

“How different is your place? Do you think they’re just having trouble adjusting?” You asked, not looking up from the laundry you were folding.

“Not too different. Becca likes the backyard. They both have their own rooms.”

“What? They like sleeping in the same room.” You objected.

Bucky looked defeated, “Okay.” He said, making it certain you wouldn’t start another argument.

You could tell he was upset, too. He was just better at hiding it. “I don’t mean to be picky or controlling, I just- this is really hard. I’m not taking it well, and I don’t think they are either. I just want to make sure they’re okay.”

“I know.” Bucky said, watching you fold a pair of children’s pajamas. “You don’t have to be alone, you know.” He said suddenly, and you looked to him in confusion. He continued, “Have you been seeing anyone?” You shook your head, slightly laughing in disbelief. “How come?” he asked. God, he was full of questions tonight.

Because I’m still in love with you, you wanted to say.

“I just- I don’t think dating is for me anymore.”

After ten years together, six of them being as a married couple, and having two children, Bucky knew when you were lying. Also the fact that you were a terrible liar. You tried, honestly. In an attempt to get yourself out of a funk- which consisted of listening to songs from the 1940’s and reading letters Bucky would send to you while he was away on long missions- you agreed to be set up on a blind date. The worst thing about it was that the guy wasn’t all that bad. He was nice, and the date actually went well, but you couldn’t get your ex-husband or your daughters out of your mind. You texted him after the date was over, saying that although you appreciated him as a person and the evening you shared, you just didn’t see the relationship going anywhere. To your surprise, he completely agreed, joking about how he was glad you were the one to say it first.

You took all of the folded laundry and set them back in the basket, ready to take it upstairs once you were ready. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. You probably have other things to do.” you said, watching Bucky get up from his spot on the couch as you wrapped yourself in the oversized cardigan you were wearing. Despite every stupid thing he had done and said over the last few weeks, you were still hopelessly in love with him, and you knew you’d never stop.

As you walked him to the front door, he also revisited the last three weeks in his head. Seeing you cry in your car over him. Knowing you weren’t handling this well. Springing it onto you so suddenly. It made him feel like a jerk. Though he initially thought promising to be there for your children was enough, he now knew it wasn’t. He broke your heart when he promised years ago he never would. When he told his teammates about the split up, they seemed shocked more than anything. You two were always the couple that your friends thought would make it. They always joked about how you two were the designated perfect couple of any group of friends; no chance of breaking up in the slightest, utterly perfect, devoted and committed to each other for the rest of your lives. Or so they thought.

Maybe he was wrong. He still cared about you deeply. He still loved you. After all, you were the mother of his children. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t still feel something whenever you looked at him. Even when you were nearly yelling at him just now, all he could see was the shy-yet-feisty woman he fell in love with a decade ago. You were stronger now, more passionate about things ever since you had the twins. He thought he couldn’t handle it. He thought he wasn’t suited for marriage. But it was you that made it all worth it. It was always you.

God, now he felt like a hopeless idiot in love again. All those years ago, he thought he was so suave picking you up and falling in love with you. It scared him. He’d never been committed like this, it worried him that one day it would all go to shit. He didn’t know what to do, so he destroyed it himself before anything else got the chance to.

To your surprise, instead of opening the front door and making his way to his car, Bucky leaned in and gave you a long, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that said, “I’m sorry”, “I was a jerk”, and “Please, for the love of God, don’t be upset with me.” It was the first time you two had kissed in months. He was on a mission and travelling for three weeks, then came home and immediately sprung the terrible news on you. God, you two hadn’t kissed in forever. It was desperate, and grew even more desperate once you kissed him back. You wrapped your arms around him and he picked you up, moving as soon as he felt your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. Whispering apologies and begs for forgiveness, he carried you up to your once-shared bedroom. You tried to hide your giggles as he found that sweet spot where your neck met your ear and started lightly kissing it. You didn’t want to wake up the girls like this, this would just confuse them even more.

He laid you onto the bed, fingers making light patterns on your stomach. You nearly moaned at the cool feeling of his metal fingers on your skin. You remembered the first time you two had sex after giving birth. It was over three months later because you absolutely hated the way your body looked. You thought you weren’t sexy anymore, but Bucky nearly collapsed in disbelief. He kissed every inch of your body that night, telling you how beautiful you were. He did that every time since, and he wasn’t going to stop now.

“God, baby,” he said, watching you desperately snake your hands up his arms to his hair, “you’re so perfect.”

Your breath hitched as he made his way down from your lips to your legs, stopping only to take off your grey pajama pants. He admired the way your core was already warm and ready for him, even through the underwear you were wearing. “So fucking perfect.” He said, taking your underwear off and immediately bringing his mouth to your core. It felt incredible, left you gasping for air because you suddenly forgot how to breathe. You loved it, you loved him, but now you were left with even more questions. Is this just a one-time thing? Does he want to try again?

“Oh my god,” you moaned as you pulled a small portion of his hair at the feeling of his tongue exploring the most sensitive part of your body, “You’re so fucking stupid.” You gasped at both the feeling of him stopping and your words, not expecting something so harsh to come out of your mouth. He looked up at you, your top half still completely clothed. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know why I said that, that was awful.” You hid your face in your hands, hoping the embarrassment on your face wasn’t obvious.

“No. You’re right. I am really fucking stupid,” He said, kissing you, “I’m never letting you go again, you understand me? Stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever done.” You got a taste of yourself as he continued to kiss you. It was familiar, almost soothing.

Taking off your tank top and cardigan, he relished in the way you looked, completely spread for him. After taking off his own clothes, he crawls on top of you and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist again. He eased into you, not once breaking your kiss. It was familiar. It was comfortable. His hips rocked and the bedframe creaked lightly as he moved in and out, muffling his moans by burying his face in your neck. He always knew what to do, how to treat you, but for some reason, the way he was thrusting into you wasn’t as controlled as if usually was. It was sloppy. It was desperate.

You let go of his hair with one hand to bring it to your clit, beginning to rub harsh circles into it. He noticed this, pulling himself out of you, causing you to wince at the loss of contact. “Baby,” he whispered, face still buried in your neck, “Get on top of me.”

You did as he asked, letting him settle on his back as you sunk onto him. You were never on top like this anymore, not since giving birth. You two used to go at it like this all the time when you were younger, but things changed after you could barely look at yourself in the mirror. All you could hear was your skin slapping against his as you bounced up and down on his length, becoming more and more of a moaning mess. “Yell at me some more.” He muttered. You could tell he was close, and so were you. You’d never done anything like that before. You two kept it very safe in the bedroom. You didn’t usually talk during, only the occasional praise as you were finished or about to finish.

He sensed your hesitation, “It’s okay. Be mean to me. I can handle it. I deserve it.”

With your noses pressed against each other and sweat starting to glisten on both of your foreheads, you decided there would be no harm in trying something new. He broke your heart, and now you got to yell at him, which was something you’d never do on a normal day. “You’re so fucking stupid,” you said again, watching his eyes go almost completely black.

“You broke my heart, you stupid piece of shit,” You almost couldn’t keep going, it didn’t feel right to say these things. After knowing the damage HYDRA had done to his mind, you couldn’t handle being so negative to him. Just the argument you had earlier made you feel like shit.

“Yeah, I’m stupid. Really fucking stupid.” He agreed as he gripped onto your waist helping you move up and down his cock. Even after all these years, he still made you twitch just by his size. He could fuck you till you were the stupid one if he wanted to.

And maybe that’s what he was currently doing. “I- I- can’t,” you gasped, burying your face into his neck now, too focused on the way he felt pounding into you. You couldn’t find the words, you couldn’t yell at him when he was making you feel so good.

“It’s okay,” Bucky said, reaching his peak, “You did a good job. You’re so good.” He brought his metal thumb to your clit, rubbing it until you were seeing stars, moaning into his neck as you came around him. He pulled out of you, still rubbing your clit with his left hand and stroking his cock with his right, pumping three times before he came onto your stomach as you collapsed onto his chest. Both of you were panting with sweat glistening on your skin, almost causing you two to stick.

“I made a huge mistake,” Bucky finally said, “I know you don’t have to, but I really want to move back in. I want to take care of you all again. Whether you want to stay divorced or get back together, I don’t care-“ You cut him off, crashing your lips onto his.

“Shut up,” you chuckled once you pulled away, “I love you.”

“I love you too… Mrs. Barnes?” He said, almost as if he was asking permission to call you that. You hadn’t changed your name after the divorce, you weren’t planning to, just in case something like this were to happen.

“Well, after this summer it’ll be Dr. Barnes,” you corrected him, kissing him once again, “and you have a lot to do to make it up to me, Buck.”

He smiled. Sure, he had a lot to do. Lots of back massages, car rides, laundry, and cooking to do to get you to forgive him for what he did. But he had you back, and he had no plans on letting you go.

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #dad!bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #sub!bucky #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan #captain america #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mcu fanfiction #marvel #fluff #smut #angst

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