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alwaysf0rev3r · 2 years

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3 Weeks Waiting

pairing: dbf!bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been hooking up with your dad’s best friend for months, but you accidentally ghosted him during finals week. saying he’s desperate is an understatement.

warnings: needy!bucky (he needs a warning), m & f masturbation, face sitting, hand jobs, riding, desperate sex, slight sub/dom dynamic, m in f penetration, dirty talk, absolute filth, hair pulling, slight degrading, praise, creampie, age gap (buckys the age he is in the movies, and reader is in college, maybe in early/mid 20s?)

note: my requests are open!!!!! REQUEST STUFF FOR ME TO WRITEEEEE :)

Tired. Annoyed. Slightly grossed out by all the old dudes around you.

That was the best way to describe how you felt in that moment. Your dad had brought over some friends and coworkers to celebrate the beginning of summer, he always found an excuse to throw a pool party.

Irritation flooded you as you got up from your beach chair, trying to subtly sneak through to go inside. You grabbed your towel to wrap it around yourself before walking through the door and into your home.

Before you could grab the chips from the kitchen island, a familiar frame stopped you. He stood tall on the other side of the kitchen island, a cup of rum in hand, “Hey, Bucky.”

Saying there was tension between the two of you was an understatement. His eyes were dark on you, a certain desperation lingering behind them, and you knew exactly why.

The two of you had been hooking up for months now, it just… Happened. But you hadn’t seen, called, or texted him in over 2 weeks because of college exams, and that was the longest the two of you had ever not spoken. Even when you went out of town, you two texted like preteens entering puberty.

And you had the audacity to sit there in front of him cluelessly.

He had to sit and just give you a small side hug greeting in front of your dad. He had to watch you tan on a beach chair in nothing but a small black bikini.

He was in pain.

“Don’t ‘Hey Bucky’ me,” he shook his head, watching you grab the cool ranch doritos on the counter and grab one.

“What?” You pretended to not know.

“I sent you like— 5 texts and called you a lot.”

“I was studying and taking exams, Buck, I warned you exam week was coming… I wasn’t even on my phone until today,” you giggled at his grump expression, not being able to hold in your own laughter. It was obvious he wasn’t truly mad, more just too stubborn to admit how much he missed you.

“Is it funny?” he scoffed lightly, matching your little giggles as he walked around the kitchen island. He stopped as he stood a foot away from you, and from afar, it’d look like the two of you were just having a normal conversation, “Do you know how hard I am right now? I can’t cum without you anymore.”

Your eyes widened at his words, and it was rare for you to get embarrassed or startled at all, “You can’t say things like that so randomly, Buck.”

“Why? Does it turn you on?” He mocked, walking closer and looking around to make sure no one looked. He slowly let the bulge in his pants touch your thigh as he breathed in relief. He didn’t grind, anxious that someone would walk in and see, even though you two were on the side of the island that covered everything below your waist, “Take the towel off.”

“You’re like a dog in heat, Jesus,” you tried to hold yourself back, wanting to come off as stronger. But when he slowly moved his hips, you swore you’d snap, “Oh my god, don’t do that— People are right th—“

“I don’t care,” he moaned a little louder than he should’ve, groaning in pain as you backed away. He watched the towel slightly open as you stood in front of him, shaking your head in shame. Your chest was revealed only slightly, but the sight was enough to make him feral, “I’m gonna cream my pants, fuck.”

“Bucky,” you scoffed, grabbing your towel and taking it off. You threw it as his chest and watched him catch it blindly, too distracted at the visual of your body, “It’s a bikini, don’t be so desperate.”

You walked past him and towards the stairs, knowing him well enough to know he was most likely staring at the view that was your ass. You turned around while you took a step on the 4th step, your eyebrows going up, “You coming or what?”

He sprinted.

Ran.

Sped.

He was a fucking track star.

He nearly fell over running to the stairs and following you, like a loyal puppy. You made sure to make it torturous and walk slowly, but your heart was telling you to sprint. You wanted this just as much as he did, if not more.

But you wanted him needy.

The minute you entered your room, he slammed the door behind you and lunged at you. Your lips intertwined with his as he gripped all parts of you, from your arms, to your chest, to your ass, to your back… all of you. But he swore he snapped when you pulled his hair just slightly, making him moan into your mouth.

God, did you miss that sound.

You pushed him on the bed, watching him sit and stare at you with lusted eyes, completely at his mercy for you. In that moment, he’d do— say— be anything for you. He needed you.

Which is why he said what he did next

“I want you to sit on my face.”

Your eyes widened at his confession, unsure of where this energy was coming from. He was always a begger, or even when he was in charge, he just asked. He never demanded or told. But there he stood, feet away from you on a bed, telling you what he needed.

You giggled and stepped closer, standing in front of his sitting body. You ran a hand over his face and took a minute to take him in, it had been too long. His sharp cheekbones, his scruff, the way his eyes were wide with needy— Beauty was not a good enough word for him, he was so much more than beautiful.

“Earn it,” you kissed his cheek in response, then moved down to his jaw. You kissed and sucked on every part of his neck while you slowly slipped your hand into his swim trunks, grabbing his bulge. His breath shortened as you gripped it tightly, rubbing up and down.

You were slow to grab the waistband of his swim trunks with your other hand and pull it down, but when you did, shock filled your face. You had never seen him so hard… It was bigger than usual, almost scary, “I haven’t cum in nearly 3 weeks.”

“Do you need me to tell you what masturbation is?” you joked, running your hand on his tip and using his precum to lubricate your hand.

“You can show me,” he joked back, throwing his head back while you started stroking faster, “I tried so hard to but— Fuck— I couldn’t c-cause it wasn’t warm like you.”

“That’s so pathetic it’s hot,” you chuckled, hearing his little laugh as well. You continued jerking him off, hoping you could get him to the edge faster, “I fucked myself a lot the past few weeks.”

“So you had time to jack off but not text me back,” he breathed out, joking with you. The sex with you two was always that— Free. No pressure, just you two.

“I guess you won’t want to hear about me cumming to a photo of you then,” you shrugged, stroking him continuously.

His eyes widened as he looked down at you, sweat covering his head, “Did you really?”

“Yes— That photo with your turtle neck… I was looking through my photos and found it in my favorites album,” you became focused on stroking, trying to ignore how wet you were, “You were so hot in it— I came twice just looking at it. Then the next day I came to that video you sent me of you jerking off a while back.”

“Jesus, you’re gonna kill me,” he moaned, which was motivation for you to slip your hand into your bikini bottoms, and subtly rub yourself while jacking him off. But when he looked down, the world was over for him, “Oh my god, you’re touching yourself.”

“It’s like there’s something wrong with me, Buck,” you moaned, removing your hand and shoving it into his mouth. He sucked all the juices of shamelessly, keeping your fingers in his mouth while he tasted you, “I’m always so wet. I cum, but it isn’t enough… I need you to fill me up, it’s the only thing that works.”

“Use me, take what you want— Fuck— I don’t care, just— Sit on my face or fuck me, please, just do whatever,” he moaned even though your hand was no longer touching him. Your words were enough to send him screaming.

“God, you are desperate,” you stared, straddling him and sitting on his bare dick. Your rubbed your clothed crotch on his exposed one, watching his mouth open, “You’re happy with whatever I give you, it’s sad. I could slap you and you’d probably thank me.”

He stayed quiet and grabbed your hips to encourage you to move more. There was something different about this time… You were in control. You had been very few times, but never so confidently, and it was driving him insane, “I could hump you for hours and you’d be okay with it, huh? You don’t even know what you want.”

“I want you to sit on my face,” he rebelled, ensuring you knew he knew exactly what he wanted.

You scoffed and put your hands on his shoulders. You dug your claws into them before moving them down and scratching hardly, watching red lines form as he moaned. You pressed your hands against his abs and pushed him down onto the bed to lay down.

He stared at you, no longer willing to make jokes. He watched you take your bikini bottoms off before shimming up and onto his abs. You stopped there and straddled his torso, humping his abs slowly, “I’ll let you taste me when I think you deserve it.”

“What did you drink?” He asked, swearing he could cum just watching you grind yourself on his abs, “Drink it more often cause you’re so fucking hot right now.”

“Shut up, I’m busy,” you moaned, grinding yourself on his abs and watching his eyebrows furrow, “I humped the pillow you’re laying on dozens of times while thinking of your cock filling me up— I even fucked myself with a dildo on it. Fuck, nothing makes me cum like you, it pisses me off.”

He moaned at the mere thought of it all, unsure if he could hold back any longer, “You can sit on my face on it too.”

You removed your body from his and moved up more, stopping as your crotch stood right over his face. He stared at your wetness, like a feral dog in training waiting for a treat… Waiting to get animalistic.

You decided to tease him a bit and put a finger inside of yourself, fingering yourself from only an inch above his eyes, “I bet those fingers don’t fill you like I do.”

“I’ll cum in front of your face and you can see how they get the job done, too,” you joked, moaning as you watched his hand go down to his own dick, jerking himself off.

“I can play this game too,” he moaned, stroking himself, “I could cum so fast just watching you… Fuck.”

Jealousy overwhelmed you as you removed your hand and sat down, holding back a bit of weight to let him breathe. He removed his hand from his own dick to push you off, making your eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Don’t do that stupid thing you do,” aggression leaked through his pores, “Sit on me— Like just… Put yourself on me. I want you to just stuff my mouth, not that stupid pussy shit where you pretend to be one pound. I don’t care about air, just sit.”

You chuckled before doing as he asked, sitting with all your weight. You groaned as he moaned right into your pussy, sending your back arching immediately. He moved his tongue so quickly you bent forward, gripping his hair and pulling it slightly. It was all overwhelming as you tested the waters, grinding yourself on his face and waiting to see if he’d ever ask for air.

But he didn’t.

Should you be concerned?

You lifted yourself up for a moment, watching him take a breath before shoving yourself on his face again, nearly coming at the sight of him being at your control. You grinded faster, using his face like a toy, “I can’t believe you want me to hump your face like a pillow— You’re so— Oh fuck.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as you felt a knot in your stomach, a feeling which made you do the hardest thing you’d done in your entire life.

You lifted yourself up and got off of him.

He looked just as disappointed as his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “I want to cum when you’re inside me.”

The disappointment faded into desire as he watched you straddle him again, this time putting your bare pussy on his dick, rubbing up and down, but not high enough to his tip, “You’re so wet.”

You kept grinding on the side of his cock, waiting for him to do something to earn him getting what you’ve both been waiting for, “Please let me fuck you— I’ll do anything, fuck— Please. This is so good, but I need to just be inside you, I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

You took his begging as the final sign, taking it upon yourself to sit on his tip and slowly push down. You took your time, adjusting to what you’d spent too long without. When you were at the base, you moved your hips and circles, ignoring how stiff Bucky was. He was holding back, gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white, “Bucky— Fuck me. Please. I can’t take it anymore, it hurts, just fuck me.”

He grabbed your waist and flipped the two of you over so you now stood underneath him, staring at his face. He looked down at himself entering you, knowing with that sight and the feeling of you pulling his hair, he could cum in seconds.

He relentlessly pounded into you, doing what he spent weeks penting up and thinking about doing. He rammed himself into you like a hammer hitting a nail, making your body twitch as you whined loudly. Everyone was outside at the pool, and you had all the freedom to scream.

“You’re so fucking good for me, taking me like a good girl, look at you,” he gripped your waist tighter and fucked you harder, “You’ve corrupted me— I can’t fuck anyone else, not even myself. God, I wish I could fuck you all the time. In public, in private, in cars, in every room and closet I see— Fuck.”

“Bucky, I’m gonna cum,” you yelped, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, “Do it with me.”

“I’m not wearing a condom, not tonight, baby,” he said through grunts.

“I’m on the pill, cum inside me,” you moaned, telling him exactly what he needed to hear. He spent months cumming in a condom, and very occasionally on your stomach after fucking you, “Fill me up.”

“Oh my god, you’re gonna give me a heart attack,” he groaned loudly, meeting your volume as he pounded faster, “You’re milking me so good— I’ll cum inside you, I promise.”

You both moaned as you pulled him closer, the both of you grabbing each other while you felt the other release. It felt like it lasted minutes, taking longer to cool down as he peeled himself off of you to give you space.

You sat up slowly and looked down at the cum leaking out of you, which you felt curious about. You brought a finger to your entrance and picked up all the white cream around your hole and shoved inside of you. Thrusting a few times to ensure it was deep into you. You inhaled sharply at the feeling of both of your liquids mixing to become one.

You brought the finger to your mouth and licked it clean, looking over at Bucky, who’s eyes were wide.

“Bend over, we’re doing Round 2.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x fem!reader #needy!bucky #avengers #smut #dbf!bucky #dbf!bucky x reader

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frostironfudge · 2 years

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My Angel - Bucky Barnes Smut

Summary: Bucky Barnes, your father's best friend has been very, very patient about matters involving you. Seeing you in that outfit however, he can't help but want to corrupt his angel.

Pairing: DBF! Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: main kink: corruption, age gap: bucky is 40 reader late twenties eg: 26, smut, dom/sub dynamics, possessiveness, slight dark bucky, praise kink, mild degradation kink, nickname - angel, oral f receiving, p in v, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, handjob, cosplay, cum play, Bucky Barnes is a warning MINORS DNI

A.N: i always wanted to write DBF!Bucky and the best way is smut I guess, hope you enjoy! also side note i know nothing of the hobbit and i did ask my best friend @stevesmewmew about it. also song i constantly heard while writing - dirty thoughts - chole adams

Word Count: 3020

Main Masterlist|| AO3 || Kinktober Materlist

You stare at yourself in the mirror, gnawing your bottom lip. The white dress looks pretty, sort of flowy, your cheeks heat at why you picked the outfit.

The lace sits nicely, you stare at the silver woven crown you DIY-ed. Placing it upon your head. You don’t know the first thing about the character apart from what you found on google.

Galadriel, you stare at your attempt of cosplay one more time. You do admire the dress. All your best friend said was she was powerful, innocent and that she had battle skills as well as knowledgeable. She seemed badass.

You knew the man’s eye you watched to catch was a fan of the franchise. You wondered who he would dress as, your palms smoothen over the dress once again. Grabbing your purse you do a final check and head downstairs. Nervousness blooms in your abdomen.

Your elder brother’s annual halloween party was an excuse for friends and teens to sort of let loose. The only reason it was even allowed was the fact that Bucky Barnes, your dad’s best friend and neighbour would keep the antics in line. The same man who you wanted to impress tonight.

Usually he would be having fun with everyone and covering for your brother’s shenanigans and mostly keeping you company and coaxing you out of your shell for about an hour and then you both would sneak into the theatre room to have a horror movie marathon.

As you traverse downstairs, the party already in full swing. Music thumping, you squeeze past the crowd in the hallway going to the kitchen for a drink. You wonder if forgoing the wig makes a difference as you head to the fridge. Shrugging you uncap the bottle. Glad, that the kitchen isn’t occupied yet.

“Holy fuck.” The voice startles you and the water drops across your chest. You wince turning to tell of the source. Your throat dries when it’s Bucky — dressed in a suit, fangs peaking through his lips.

“B-bucky?” You confirm, he’s gone for the modern vampire vibe and you can’t stop staring at the fit of his inner white collared shirt.

“You, you’re dressed as—,” his eyes trace over you, crown to hem of the white gown. His fake fang sinks into his bottom lip. Tongue then peeking out to wet the flesh.

You gulp eyes on his lips, “G-galadriel.”

“You look, ethereal.” He admits, you look away shyly.

“Thank, thank you.” Internally your heart hammers at his response.

Bucky steps closer, towering over you. His woodsy cologne evades your senses, he reaches up, fixing your crown. Fingertips then trace from your temple to your jaw to your chin, tilting your head back.

His heated gazes prompts your thighs to clench. Bucky inhales deeply.

“Such innocence.” He murmurs, “So much light. How would you look flush against darkness?” Bucky questions he can feel all the blood rush to his cock. Your nipples hardened perceivable through the lace. The tea towel he holds pressed against your chest.

He wants to push you against the wall and kiss you. Wants to rip the lace off with his teeth, watch how your lips part moaning his name, or stretched around his cock, how would you look bouncing on his— you blink up at him, he shifts back.

“Can’t taint you, can I?” He muses. You frown.

“Bucky I,”

“Do you like my outfit?” He gestures, changing the topic.

“Vampire?” You giggle when he smiles brightly, fangs bared.

“From those shows you like,” He admits sheepish.

“The one I like wears a leather jacket.” You tease, he narrows his eyes.

“Oh so when I caught you salivating at the suit wearing one, that was what?” He chuckles when you huff caught in your own web of lies.

“I do like him in a suit, you might just make it better.” Your fingertips trace the undone jacket button, biting your lip you look up at him.

Bucky breathes your name in warning, not for himself but for you. He had begun to disregard warnings the night he coated his fist and abdomen with his cum thinking about you.

“Want to know a dirty little secret?” You burn his curiosity brighter than light. He nods.

“I wore the outfit for you.” Your hand traces up to the jacket lapel, Bucky breathes deeply.

“You dressed up as one of the most innocent characters of my favourite series, for me?” Bucky recounts, god your perfume so sweet. How would you taste? He wonders.

“All for you.” You admit, swallowing when his palm finally meets your waist. Warmth sears through your skin as his thumb brushes over the lace.

Bucky’s mind is a swirl of should I, should I not, but you were making it so easy. So easy to choose the idea to corrupt you.

The groan he produces rumbles in his chest, Bucky watches as you shift and your pelvis moves in the slightest to your thighs clenching.

“Want to know a dirty little secret, Angel?” He questions, palm trailing up your side, to your breast.

“Y-yes.” You bite your lip trying not to make a sound as he palms the flesh through the lace.

“I want to ruin you, with my tongue, my fingers and my cock.” Bucky’s voice is deep, you softly moan at his words.

“Look at that, little innocent angel wants to be ruined.” He comments, tugging on your nipples.

“You’re going to look so pretty wrapped around my cock, begging for release.” He tugs on your earlobe, you feel his thigh between your legs, your hips buck involuntary, you whimper at the contact.

“Look at you Angel, turning into such a needy, pretty slut for me.” Bucky marvels at the way you’re complying, the way your needy little breaths are making him so hard.

He pulls away as he hears boisterous laughter approaching. You whine at the loss of him.

“Angel.” He chastises. Handing you the dish towel to help soak the water from your dress.

“Oh hey, Mr. Barnes, hey tiny.” Your brother chuckles when you groan at his stupid nickname for you. He busies himself taking out drinks from the wine cooler.

“Hi Y/N. What happened?” Nick Fowler, your brother’s best friend steps closer to you.

“Just spilled a drink,” you shrug, his grey eyes on you.

“Oh I’ll help—,” Nick’s hand outstretches, but Bucky steps closer, “She’s got it.”

Nick’s jaw tenses, Bucky only smiles at him.

You look between the two, not understanding the reason for the stare down.

“Run along now.” Bucky speaks sickly sweet as your brother calls out to Nick, he gives you a once over and then leaves with him.

You look at Bucky, he turns to you, signs of irritation leaving his features.

“Meet me in my theatre room?” Bucky smiles when you nod eagerly.

He cups your face between, his metal and calloused hand.

Blue eyes, admire you.

“I want the crown to remain on, though I wonder if it will stay secure after I’m done with you.” Before you can react he presses his lips to yours, warm, soft lingering taste of his whiskey.

The cold metal of the refrigerator blooms across your back as he presses you against the appliance.

You kiss back, as his tongue swipes at your bottom lip exploring your mouth. Taking his bottom lip between your teeth you suck on the flesh, he moans your name, grinding against you.

Bucky parts his lips from yours, your lust blown eyes gaze up at him, so innocent.

“Oh, Angel. I don’t think I have any patience left any longer.” Is all he says before grabbing your hand and guiding you out the side door, towards his house.

Bucky’s hands are everywhere, your knees either side of his lap, the dress pushed up bunching around your hips. He lifts his hips ever so slightly, you cry out around his fingers.

“Go on Angel, get them nice and wet. Good girl, oh are you chocking on my fingers already? Oh sweet little needy baby, what will you do with my cock then?” He tuts, pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a trail of saliva connects from the tip of his finger to your lips.

“Ask for my fingers Angel.” Bucky smirks as you whine.

“Please.” Your hands rest on his chest.

“That wasn’t a really good job.” He chastises, “You can do better sweet Angel, go on say the filthy words of what you want from me.”

Staring into his eyes, your skin heats, Bucky shifts his hips again, you mewl.

“Bucky please.” Your hands clutch at his half unbuttoned shirt. It hangs off of his shoulders.

“Please what?” His left hand moves up your back, cooler fingers find the zipper undoing it.

“Please fuck me with, with your fingers.” You bite your lip.

“Only my fingers?” He teases thumb brushing over your inner thigh.

“Do you want to sit on my face baby? Do you want me to lap up your sweetness? Bet you taste so good.” His thumb brushes over your clit.

You nod, you want all of it.

“No panties, no bra, were you wanting me to fuck you?” He raises a brow, thumb applying pressure.

You nod preening, “Want, want you.” His left hand urges you to kneel straighter, index and middle finger circling your entrance.

“You want, me, Angel?” He confirms again, “Look at you, clenching around nothing, let’s change that shall we?” His digit sinks into you, Bucky swirls it around touching your walls, he then begins to pump in and out.

You begin to meet the slow thrusts, your gown beginning to fall from your shoulders. Bucky swears as he sees the untouched skin and the pebbled nipples.

“Look at you,” Two fingers fucking into your cunt, “Meeting every thrust, not so innocent are you?” His lips latch onto your nipple, sucking and biting your head thrown back his palm rubs over your clit as you grind down upon his fingers.

Bucky shifts his attention to the other nipple, the pace of his fingers increasing he adds a third, “Have to stretch you out don’t I? Aw, Angel are you going to make a mess on me? My Dirty, dirty girl.”

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky—,” His fingers continually tap over the spongy sport, stars begin to cloud your vision, left hand gripping your breast, tweaking your nipples.

“Go on, cum for me Angel, this is only the beginning of your ruin.” Bucky smirks as you shudder against him, cunt squeezing his fingers, thighs trying to close, your hands tugging on is hair.

Lust blown blues admire you unraveling, the bliss spreading over your features as the orgasm takes you, your walls begging to keep his fingers in, Bucky’s palm rubbing circles over your clit and the burn of it delicious. Your shaking from the aftershocks ceases. It takes everything in Bucky not to have his fingers replaced by his cock swiftly.

“You with me Angel?” Bucky chuckles, when you blink through the haze.

“Y-yeah.” You run your fingers through his hair.

“Crown’s still on.” He chuckles, bringing his slick covered fingers to your lips, “Have a taste, you need to know how you taste without me.”

His fingertips trace your lips, your tongue follows. Bucky then tastes you from his fingers and moans.

Your dress is pushed off of your body, Bucky’s hands roam in admiration.

“So fucking delicious, I deserve a reward don’t I? For being this patient, for letting you remain untainted by me this long.” He looks at you, you nod. Bucky taps your hips and you move off him to allow him to slide down.

He kisses your clit, “Already needy, my, my.” his tongue licks over your folds, humming at your taste.

“Grab onto the headboard, Angel.” He says before his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks wantonly upon the pulsing nub. Shivers bloom across your back.

You moan, grinding onto his face, he groans. Hands clutching your hips not letting you move away, Bucky laps at your entrance, licking stripes from your clit to circle and back. Nibbling on the clit your mewls and preens don’t stop, his light scruff burns deliciously over your inner thighs and folds.

“Bucky please, please, please—,” You warn as the coil snaps again, his hips lift off of the bed in response as he hungrily devours you for every single drop. When he doesn’t relent you try pulling away, you can feel yourself getting slick again as his ministrations continue.

His large hands push you back to sit on his lap again, pink lips glistening as he smirks. He pulls you close chest to chest.

“Rewarding.” He comments lazily tracing patters on your thigh.

You look down, the tent in his pants achingly visible.

“Can, can I?” You request.

“All words, Angel, need to know the filth that goes on in that innocent little mind, tell me is it all for me? Have my thoughts been corrupting you?” Your thighs squeeze at his word.

“Have you touched yourself thinking about me? Played with my pussy without asking me?” His thumb returns to your clit.

“Yes.” You squeak.

“Tell me what you’ve thought about baby?” He questions, “Tell me while you undo my pants, go on.”

Shaky fingers reach for the button, “I’ve thought, I’ve though about you fucking me, in your study.” You undo the zipper.

“Bent over my table?” He questions watch your tits with every deep breath you take.

You shake your head, toying with the wait band of his boxers.

“Against the window? My sweet, innocent, Angel wants the world to see I’m fucking her?” He questions, you nod.

“And maybe the table too.” You add, drawing amused laughter from him.

“What else, Angel?” He questions pace on your clit increasing, “Take my cock out.”

You do as he says, pumping him from bottom to top, his length is massive and girth as well. You bite your lip.

“Angel, don’t worry your pretty little head, it’ll fit, pussy was made for my cock.” He hisses as you rub your thumb on the slit then you bring the precum covered digit to your lips, locking eyes with him.

“Go on, taste me.” He watches as you clean your thumb eyes closed and humming at his taste before returning your hand to his cock.

“Stand up, we’re going to my office.” Bucky’s cock twitches in your hold.

His clothes are discarded, he easily lips you up, legs wrapped around him, his cock shifts over your folds with each step, Bucky keeps his lips pressed to yours as he easily moves to his office down the hall.

“Bend over the table corner.” He instructs, setting you down, you do as he says the cold marble has you shift, the rounded corner touches your clit.

“Just how I pictured.” He hums appreciative, lining himself up with you, slowly sinking in inch by inch you both moan in synchrony. Bucky grabs your hands holding them behind you. The arch it creates has him move in deeper, tip right against your g-spot.

“Fuck, so fucking tight, look at you, spread out for me, what would people say? Innocent little Angel is Bucky’s pretty little slut. She fantasises about being fucked by him. I’ll fuck you on every surface if you ask me.” His hips snap you cry out, clenching hard around him.

“Only you.” You whimper, as his pace increases, the cold marble rubbing against your clit.

“Fuck, how good are you squeezing me, cunt doesn’t want to let me go.” Bucky groans, pulling you up.

His cock moves deeper, your back is against his chest, his left hand moves to your clit, right hand around your throat squeezing lightly. Your walls quiver around him.

“Oh Angel likes being choked? Fuck, you’re perfect. My pretty little slut, look at you.” He groans, adding pressure and the sounds of his cock have you mewl and preen.

“Please, please, please,” More incoherent thoughts spill from your lips, he feels so good, so good. So deep.

“Only I, get to see you this way don’t I? Begging, on the brink of bliss.”

Yes, yes, yes—“Bucky, please—,”

“Look at you, can only think about my cock filling you up so good, can’t you Angel?” He bites down on your neck, leaving his mark.

“So, g-good,” You choke on another moan.

Your hands around his neck, your nails manage to claw at his flesh. Bucky knows he’s not going to last, he knows you aren’t going to either.

“Go on Angel, cum so you can feel me everywhere. My dirty, little, pretty girl. Innocent little slutty Angel.” His words set off the flame that consumed your veins, distantly you hear a desperate cry of Bucky’s name, Bucky groans your name in response your spasming walls setting his orgasm off.

He continues to fuck you through your orgasms, panting in his arms, Bucky loves how your pussy feels wrapped around him. He leans back taking you with him into his plush chair.

Cock still inside of you, his fingers rubbing at your clit, you protest, his hand clutches at your hair, lips swallow down your protests, fingers moving fast your babbles return, cumming undone on his cock, marking it with yourself.

“Look at that Angel, you’ve claimed my cock.” He admires the fluids coating your thighs and his balls, gathering the cum, he brings his fingers to your lips.

You keep your eyes locked with his, as you lick his fingers clean. Your clit pulses at the taste. Bucky smirks feeling your pussy clench. Your mind is a haze as his lips press kisses to your temple and cheek.

“I’ve got all night to corrupt your thoughts further. Against the window next, Angel. I know someone who would hate to miss out on the show we put on.” He chuckles darkly, hands roam your body.

You hum tiredly, basking in the warmth, Bucky’s eyes shift to the broken crown discarded to the floor.

“Little corrupted Angel.” He hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, "My Angel." He repeats, placing a soft kiss over the love bite on your neck.

"All yours, Bucky." You whisper, tilting your head back to meet his blue eyes.

-x-

permanent tags for bucky: @slutforsexyseabass

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mavsstar · 1 year

Text

.⋆˚𝐴 𝐿𝐼𝑇𝑇𝐿𝐸 𝐻𝐸𝐿𝑃

Summary︱Bringing a man home only meant one thing for you—boring, meaningless sex. After a pathetic attempt to experience a blissful release, Bucky offers to help out.

Pairings︱DBF!Roomate!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

W.C︱2.2k

Warnings︱18+ this is straight up porn, age gap, reader using a vibrator, slight dom/sub dynamics, моя игрушка means my toy, praise, stomach bulge, squirting, a little bit of aftercare at the end.

Author's note︱I had to make it DBF bc i am a total whore for older men and it's honestly perfect for it. PSA THE READER MET BUCKY WHEN SHE WAS OVER 18. HE DID NOT SEE HER GROW UP. Anyways enjoy :D Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

You laid on the bed, your body barely jerking as your date thrusted inside you. You wondered what went wrong. It wasn’t that the date in itself was bad, it turned out to be one of the best dates you’ve been on so far. He was a nice and a very attentive man.

“If only he could be that attentive in the bedroom,” you thought.

You let out fake moans to make it seem you were slightly enjoying it and avoiding hurting his ego. Though someone should, so he would finally know how terrible he is be in bed. At least he was pretty so it wasn’t such a terrible loss on your side. You had a decent view.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned into your neck.

“Please do so you can leave,” you said to yourself.

With one final grunt his body stilled over yours, dropping all his weight on you seconds later. You placed your hands on his chest and pushed him over. He took it as a silence cue to leave. All that could be heard was the condom being thrown in the trashcan and the sound of his footsteps. You wanted him gone so you could have your own fun.

You didn’t even bother turning around. Not even when he kissed you goodbye. When you heard the door shut, you immediately crawled across your bed to get to your vibrator that was deeply stuffed in the top drawer of your nightstand. You pulled the hot pink wand out and bit your lip in excitement.

A gleeful hum escaped your lips when you pressed the vibrator against your clit and turned it on. You threw your head back in pleasure, your lips parting open as breathy moans left your lips. When you felt the vibrator lose its intensity down to lower vibration you internally groaned but nonetheless tried to enjoy the pleasure.

Just as you felt your orgasm build up, the vibrator turned off. You frantically tried to turn it back on, mumbling a symphony of curses.

“Don’t do this to me now,” you wailed. Though the vibrator was fully dead.

Out of frustration you threw the vibrator across the room, causing a huge thud sound as soon as it hit the wall. At least Bucky wasn’t here to hear any of it otherwise he would’ve fully woken up.

“You have to be fucking kidding me!” you yelled into your pillow, your screams sounding muffled.

Seconds later you heard a knock on your door. “Honey, are you okay?”

You audibly gasped, Bucky wasn’t supposed to be here. You pulled the covers up to your chest just in case he came into the room. “Yeah I’m fine!”

“You sure?” He asked as he entered the room. He smirked when he saw the white sheet clinging onto your body, your fingers clutching the sheet for dear life.

“I th-thought you were supposed to b-be gone?” you stammered out, clearly nervous.

“I got back early.”

“How early?” you questioned, praying that he hadn't heard you and he just came back.

“4 hours ago,” he replied. Bucky took slow, agonizing steps towards you until he reached the side of your bed. “And I heard every little noise you made.”

“Oh no,” you sighed, hiding your face in your hands in embarrassment. “I’m so–oh god!”

You were so ashamed you could barely form a proper sentence. Your cheeks were on fire and you wanted to crawl into a little hole and die. While you were busy wallowing yourself in your mortification, you missed the way Bucky was undressing you with his own two eyes.

“Bucky I don’t even know what to say–I’m so sorry.”

Bucky’s hand softly gripped your chin and turned it so you were now facing him. “Sorry for what, Honey? For having sex? It’s natural, everyone does it.” His thumb swiped your bottom lip, adoring the way it bounced back. “You know what isn’t natural?”

You peered at him with doe eyes. “What?” you asked him.

Bucky mentally made sure to take a picture of you with the same exact look another day. God you drove him crazy with that simple look—his instincts begging him to fuck you senseless.

“To fuck a guy who can’t even make you cum.” Disappointment racked down his body thinking about the fact someone as pretty as you is missing out on oh so much. “Don’t worry, s’not your fault.”

“But what if it is?”

His grip slightly tightened, “trust me it isn’t. They don’t know the first thing about pleasure. If it’s anyone's fault, it’s theirs.”

“To your luck, I know just how to make you feel good.” He bent downwards, his lips ghosting above yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, fully expecting him to kiss you. When you didn’t feel his lips on yours, you opened your eyes and they were mere centimeters away. So close yet so far.

“Please Bucky,” you begged, inching your lips closer to his.

Bucky leaned back, relishing your desperation. “Please what, Honey?” He squished your cheeks together, your lips puckering together. “Use your words.”

“Please make me feel good.”

“Good girl,” Bucky praised. The praise sent warmth down your body.

He dropped his metal arm, slithering his way down to the bed sheets. He slowly starts pulling the sheet down, exposing every single part of your body. When the sheet was fully off Bucky lowly moaned. “I’m going to make you feel so good, you’ll never want anyone else to touch you ever again.”

Desperation won over and you tugged Bucky down with you. Nothing but teeth clashing and hands roaming everywhere on the other’s body. You tugged on the bottom of his shirt, silently signaling him to take it off. Bucky momentarily broke the kiss to peel off his shirt.

Your eyes hungrily ran down his body, it was all like an orgasm for your eyes. “Wow,” you whispered, mainly to yourself.

“You like what you see?” Bucky smugly asked. Bucky chuckled, watching your lust blow your eyes as you instantly nodded while you bit down your bottom lip sensually. “Of course you do, don’t you?”

Bucky chased your lips once again. This time the kiss was slower, more calculated. His hand snaked down to your body and his hand cupped your dripping pussy. Your thighs clenched together as you felt the cold touch from his metal hand.

“You’re dripping моя игрушка,” he growled against your lips. He grabbed your leg and hitched it over his, ensuring it stays open. He swiped his finger across your cunt to gather your wetness.

His fingers circled over your clit, eliciting small breathy moans from you. “Let all those pretty sounds моя игрушка.” Bucky’s middle finger left your clit, traveling down to your weeping hole. “I don’t want you to hold back.”

His finger entered inside you, your walls immediately clamping down on him. Bucky tested the waters and added a second finger. He was enamored with your blissed out face and he wasn’t even trying.

He began to thrust his fingers in and out, making sure to curl his fingers just at the right angle causing your legs to quiver around his hand. “Go on, grind your pretty pussy on my hand.”

You blindly obeyed his order. You grinded your hand on his palm, adding a delicious friction between your clit and his hand. Subconsciously you began to move faster, chasing a sweet, short euphoria.

“That’s it,” Bucky praised, pressing his palm a bit harder. “Just like that.”

Your first orgasm caught you by surprise. You could barely register what was going on before you gushed over his hand, your cum leaking down his fingers. Bucky pulled his fingers out and licked your essence, moaning at the sweet taste.

He pushed your shoulder back, laying you flat on your back on the bed. Bucky quickly pulled his sweatpants down along with his boxers. His cock sprang free from the clothed restraints and slapped his stomach. The tip was drenched in precum making your mouth water.

Bucky crawled on top of you, leaving kisses behind over your exposed skin. Once he was fully over you, he grabbed his cock and swiped it over your drenched cunt, swirling the tip on your sensitive button.

“Stop teasing,” you whined. You reached your hand down to guide him in but he swatted your hand away. With one hand Bucky pinned both of yours at the top of your head.

“Wait,” he warningly growled.

After a few more teasing swipes you felt Bucky’s tip prodding your entrance. Slowly, Bucky slid in and finally gave in to you. The stretch achingly burned yet nothing else has felt better. You felt every inch of his thick cock entering you.

“Oh god–you’re so big.”

“Aww моя игрушка,” Bucky cooed as kissed your nose, “I’m not even fully in yet.”

You looked down and Bucky was right. You both gasped out once he fully sheathed himself inside you. You have never felt so full in your entire life.

Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes scrunched in pleasure. “God you’re so tight.”

You felt like you were going to die if he wasn’t going to move. “Please move.”

Bucky pulled almost all the way out, ensuring the tip stayed in and then plunged himself deep into you, eliciting a silent scream from you. Your head fell back when Bucky started to thrust inside you. If you thought you felt pleasure before, this was heaven. You never thought someone could ever make you feel this good.

You somehow were able to loosen his grip on your hand. You grabbed his hand that was on your hip and guided him over to your lower stomach. “I can feel you in–here!” you exclaimed when he hit a particular spot.

“Oh there it is,” he muttered as he repeatedly hit your g-spot over and over. “Guess what моя игрушка, if I do this,” Bucky gabbed your leg and threw it over his hip, “you’ll feel so much better.”

“Bucky!” you screamed at the new angle. Tears pricked at your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. Your walls fluttered around him and Bucky had to bite back his moans.

“No…wanna hear….you,” you pouted. “Bet you sound–so pretty.”

Bucky granted your wish and finally moaned, it was music to your ears. Hearing his moans turned you on even more.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight моя игрушка. I never want to leave your pretty pussy.”

“S’all yours,” you babbled out.

“Yeah? She’s all mine?” You nodded in response. Bucky didn’t really have to ask. Your pussy was his whether you were going to tell him or not. She belonged to him. You belonged to him.

You shook off his hand to unleash your other hand. Both of your hands ascended up his arms and found solace on his biceps. “Harder,” you whimpered. Your voice was barely above a whisper but Bucky heard it as clear as day. Bucky easily complied and thrusted harder.

“Please, please, please don’t stop,” you begged, your nails digging into his biceps. You were sure there would be marks but you couldn’t care less.

“Oh моя игрушка, I don’t think I’ll last,” Bucky groaned out.

You could barely respond with your orgasm rapidly approaching. “I’m gonna–”

“No, not yet. Wait until I say let go.”

“Bucky, I can’t hold it.”

“You can and you will.”

Bucky was determined to cum with you at the same time. He kept the same pace despite wanting to go faster. Though you made it nearly impossible with the way you gripped him like a vice.

“Bucky…”

“Just a little bit more.”

“Bucky I can’t!” you cried out, stray tears falling down your face. “Please!”

“Now,” Bucky practically demanded.

You finally let go of the knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes screwed shut as you chanted Bucky’s name over and over like a prayer. It was all a new feeling to you and your body didn’t know how to react. You momentarily blacked out as you let your orgasm ride out.

“Holy shit,” Bucky gasped out, looking down at the mess you made all over his lower stomach that was now mixing in with his cum.

“I’m sorry Bucky,” you mumbled out, still fucked out. “I didn’t mean to.” Bucky shushed you, assuring you it was more than okay that you were more than welcome to gush all over his body.

Bucky pulled out, earning a whine from you. If you could have it your way Bucky’s cock would be inside you all night but you could barely form any words. Your body was profusely shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“Told you I know how to make you feel good. Turns out all you needed was a little help” Bucky boasted. He then handed you a bottle of water, “drink this, you’ll need it.”

While you drank the water Bucky left to go to the bathroom. He came back with a wet rag in one hand and clothes in the other. Bucky quietly cleaned you up, murmuring soft praises to you.

“You did so good for me,” Buckky whispered against your skin. “You were absolutely perfect.” You made a noise of contentment when Bucky slid his shirt over your head. You brought the material up your nose, deeply inhaling his scent.

“I’m never giving this shirt back,” you commented.

“Good,” Bucky replied as he laid right next to you. He pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your shaky body, “it looks better on you anyway.”

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fatecantstopme · 2 years

Text

Why Wait?

Pairing: DBF!Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Summary: You've known Bucky for years, but the dynamic between you had begun to shift since you'd graduated college. He suddenly found himself struggling to act normal around you and you decided to make it your mission to find out why.

Warnings: Age gap (legal), reader is approximately 25, Bucky is approximately 39. Cursing. SMUT. Unprotected sex (P in V), oral (M receiving, F receiving), praise kink. Use of pet names (doll, sweets, baby). A little Dom/Sub vibes.

"Oh for goodness sake, Peggy. It's a two week vacation, not a six month excursion," your dad exclaimed in mock exasperation as your mom dragged two giant suitcases to the top of the stairs.

"You could at least help me, Steven," she grumbled in return.

"You know I will," he said with a laugh as he climbed the stairs and took both suitcases from her.

Your mother looked pointedly at you. "Marry a man who takes care of you without complaining."

You laughed. "Thanks for the advice mom. I'll be sure to let all the 25 year old dudes know that chivalry is important."

She rolled her eyes and descended the stairs quickly. She shot your dad an award-winning smile, which he returned with equal warmth.

"You sure you'll be okay by yourself, kiddo?" your dad asked.

"As you just reminded mom, it's only two weeks. I think I can handle that. I am, after all, a full-grown adult...mostly."

Your dad chuckled and shook his head. "I know you are. I just worry sometimes." He wrapped you in a big hug. "If you need anything, anything at all, Bucky's right next door."

"Yes, dad, I know. He's only lived there for like 10 years."

"Come on, sweetie, we're going to miss our flight if we don't get moving," your mom said gently.

You helped your parents get their luggage out to the car and packed in. You waved to them as they pulled out of the driveway, more than a little excited to have the house to yourself for a couple weeks.

It hadn't been your plan to move back home after college, but you didn't have much of a choice. You couldn't afford to live on your own right now, especially since your writing career hadn't exactly taken off yet. It did at least give you more time to dedicate to perfecting your craft.

You knew yourself though, so you knew there was no way you were going to spend the next two weeks holed up in your room, working on yet another chapter of a book you weren't sure you were going to finish. You had much more important things on your mind, like what the hell was going on with your neighbor, Bucky.

Your dad and Bucky became instant friends when Bucky had moved to the neighborhood when you were a freshman in high school. You would have to have been an idiot (or blind) to not think the man was deliciously sexy, but you also knew that he was way out of your reach, for so many different reasons.

Bucky and you also hit it off. He liked your humor and you pretty much thought he walked on water, although you hid it well. Bucky had taught you how to drive a manual, he'd taught you how to ride a motorcycle (which your mother hated), and he was always there when you needed him for anything. He'd been by your college apartment several times over the past 4 years to fix various things that the landlord just never got around to.

But things have been weird between the two of you ever since you'd graduated a few months ago. A lot had changed for you in the last couple years, but one constant had always been Bucky. For the first time since you'd known him, he seemed almost uncomfortable in your presence, and he actually seemed to be avoiding you as best as he could. You had to admit that you hated it, especially because you truly did count Bucky as a friend, despite the age difference.

Your parents being gone for the next two weeks gave you time to figure out what was going on with him. Had you done something to upset him? Did he finally decide that being friends with someone almost 15 years his junior was weird? Or were you just imagining the whole thing and over-thinking? If you asked your last three boyfriends, then yeah, option three was a real possibility.

You sighed and went back inside the house, mulling over exactly how you were going to dig into the mind of the most elusive man you'd ever met. He always seemed to be in a great mood, but then you'd walk in the room and he would shut down. You were used to his stunted ability to express his emotions, but this was a whole new level of emotionless.

The only thing working in your favor was that you knew him really well. It was a Saturday, and Bucky only did one of two things on Saturdays: hang out with your dad at your house, or hang out with your dad at his house. Which meant Bucky's evening was definitely completely free. Conveniently, yours was also completely free. So you concocted a plan to get Bucky to open up to you.

**********

At 5:30pm, you stood on Bucky's doorstep waiting for him to answer the door. When the door swung open, he looked genuinely surprised to see you on the other side of it.

You held up the items in your hands. "I brought pizza and beer." You walked past Bucky without another word.

"Um, (Y/N), whatcha doing?"

"It's Saturday night and I'm bored, so," you gestured to the pizza you'd just sat on his kitchen island. "I came bearing gifts."

He looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. "Why would you want to spend your Saturday night at home with your old-ass neighbor?"

"First of all, I happen to like spending time with my old-ass neighbor, and secondly, have you met people my age? I have zero desire to go to a club and flirt with guys I have zero interest in taking home."

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle at your candidness. It was something he had always loved about you. "Fair enough. Although, I do feel some sort of away about you not correcting me when I said 'old'."

You grinned and handed him a beer, which he took gratefully. Lord knew he was gonna need a beer or two to make it through tonight. "For the record, you're not old, you just like to act like you are," you teased.

"Insulting me in my own home. Who on earth raised you?" he teased back.

"Wolves," you answered cheekily as you turned away from him in search of a glass.

Bucky inhaled sharply as he got a better look at your backside. You'd thrown on an over-sized t-shirt and leggings for comfort. You knew the leggings made your ass look amazing and the shirt hid all the little bumps and rolls you wanted to hide. You weren't ashamed of your body or your weight, but that didn't mean you wanted to dress up 24/7.

You were stretching up to reach a glass, which for some reason Bucky put on the freaking top shelf, when you heard his sharp inhale. You realized your shirt had lifted up when you'd reached, and exposed quite a bit of your legging-clad ass. You reached just a little farther, in part because you wanted to give him a little bit of a show, but also because you seriously could not reach this damn glass.

"Can I help you with something, doll?" Bucky asked from directly behind you.

You almost jumped out of your skin at his proximity. You tried to play it off so you didn't look like a weirdo. "I know you're tall, but do you really have to put your glasses on the top shelf? What if you have short guests?"

He chuckled. "I don't usually have guests. At least not ones who stay long enough to need a glass."

"Well, I hate drinking beer from a can," you pointed above your head, "so you think you can hand me a glass?"

Bucky reached up above you and pulled a glass out of the cabinet with ease, eyes never leaving yours. It felt strangely intimate, this moment, but as soon as the glass was in your hand, he was on the other side of the island, moving so quickly it was like he couldn't get away from you fast enough.

You poured your beer into the glass and reached for a slice of pizza. "Wanna watch a movie?" you asked casually.

"Yeah, that'd be good. As long as you don't pick something awful."

You laughed as you followed him to the living room, pizza box in hand. "If you promise not to pick a cheesy 1950s movie, then I'll let you choose."

"The 1950s movies are the best!" he insisted.

"Okay, old man," you teased.

"Hey," he said as he tossed a blanket at you. "I thought I told you not to call me old."

"When the shoe fits..."

He groaned and plopped down on the couch next to you, leaving a good foot of space between the two of you. He grabbed the remote, flipped on the TV, and started scrolling through different movies to stream.

"Anything look interesting, doll?"

Bucky had called you 'doll' for as long as you could remember, but it hadn't felt so...intimate...until recently. You couldn't deny that you loved the sound of it on his lips. "Hmm...just pick something funny."

"So you want a rom-com?" he teased lightly.

"I did not say that, Barnes. I said funny. Like comedy."

"Well too bad," he said as he selected what definitely looked like a rom-com, "I'm all about the romantic comedies."

You groaned.

"What? It's literally got the word 'comedy' in it."

You laughed. "Alright, alright. I'll watch it without complaining, but if it sucks, I'm absolutely gonna judge you."

"Rightfully so."

The two of you settled in, blanket covering you both, enjoying the relaxation of the moment, as well as the pizza and alcohol that was now flowing through your system.

As the movie played, you found yourself not paying much attention, focusing instead on the man next to you. His body language, his posture, the way his hair had little flecks of gray near his temples. He clearly hadn't shaved in a couple days and he was sporting a very sexy beard that you couldn't help but appreciate.

It wasn't until you'd reached adulthood that you actually began to truly fantasize about your dad's best friend. You were legal, which meant a relationship with him was legal, or at the very least a sexual one would be permissible. You'd never said anything, never tried to pursue it, and only flirted jokingly with him like you did with most people you met.

You'd seen the kind of women that Bucky would date over the years, so you were very familiar with his type. You swore they were models, every single one of them, but none of them lasted for more than a month or two. You and your parents were the most consistent thing in his life and you'd often wondered why that was. He was such a good person, but he was so entirely alone. It almost broke your heart.

"I can feel you staring at me," he said lightly.

"Shit, sorry!" you blushed as you looked away.

"It's okay. I got something on my face or what?"

You laughed. "No, I was just lost in thought. Your face happened to be in the way of my gaze."

He chuckled. "How rude of my face."

You elbowed him lightly. "You're a dork."

"Hi pot, this is kettle," he said with a raised eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up and watch the movie," you said in a teasing tone.

Bucky grinned and turned his attention back to the movie. You forced your eyes to look back at the screen, but by this point you had no idea what was happening in this movie. Hell, you weren't even sure who the main characters were.

About 10 minutes passed before your attention was once again broken by the sound of Bucky's voice. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." You turned your body towards him slightly so he knew you were paying attention.

"Why aren't you seeing anybody?" he asked softly, eyes still glued to the screen.

"You mean, like dating?"

He nodded.

"Well, um...I guess I haven't met anyone worth being with yet."

He nodded again. "But you had several boyfriends in college, as I recall."

"Yeah, but none of them would have ever amounted to anything long term."

"Hmm," he hummed. "It just seems like you deserve better."

"What do you mean? I don't mind being alone."

"A girl like you deserves to be loved, really truly loved. Adored. Worshiped." His voice sounded distant, as if he wasn't even fully aware of what he was saying.

You were surprised by his words, unsure how to respond. A mere 'thank you' didn't really seem right, but it was all you could muster.

The conversation ended again, and you could have left it there...but you'd come here with a purpose, so you just couldn't stop yourself from asking, "Why aren't you seeing anybody?"

Bucky looked at you in surprise, as if he had no idea why you would ask him such a question.

"You asked me, so it's only fair..." you began.

"Right, yeah." He paused. "Um...I met someone who never fails to make me smile, make me laugh, make me feel like I'm a freaking teenager again. But I can't be with her, so I choose to be alone instead."

"Why? That sounds terrible."

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "It's not great, honestly, but it's better for her, and that's what matters."

"But if you want to be with her, why aren't you?"

"We can't, okay?" his tone was firm, final.

You slid to a different, but related, subject, "So what's with the parade of women then?"

"Parade of women?" he asked in surprise, eyebrows lifting as he regarded you.

"Come on, Barnes. You've got random hotties popping into your house regularly and you're always bringing some new model to parties and family gatherings."

He groaned, unsure if he actually wanted to answer your question. "You're one of the smartest people I've ever met, (Y/N/N), so why do you think I have them around?"

You shrugged. "Gotta get laid somehow."

He cracked up laughing at that. "Jesus, sometimes I forget how blunt you can be."

You grinned. "Never ask me a question you don't want the answer to."

"Shit. Apparently." He shook his head, eyes going back to the movie.

You watched the movie in silence for a few minutes before Bucky asked you another question. "So what do you do?"

His voice was so low, you weren't even sure you'd heard him correctly. "What do you mean?" you asked.

"You know...to satisfy your...needs."

"Oh," you said in a voice that was definitely a solid octave above normal. You cleared your throat before continuing your response. "Clubs and bars are the best places to pick up semi-drunk men with low standards," you said casually.

His head whipped around to you so fast you thought for sure he'd have whiplash. "I'm sorry, what?"

You shrugged. "Look, guys my age are assholes. It's a known fact. They're often worse when they're drunk, but they're horny as hell, so sometimes they're willing to compromise on their regular standards just so they can get laid. Mind you, it's never good sex, but every once in a while you get at least one orgasm."

Bucky's jaw dropped slightly. "I'm going to circle back to the bad sex, no orgasm part, but I need you to clarify this shit about 'low standards'. Are you saying guys have to lower their standards for you?"

You blushed, eyes not quite meeting his. "I mean, yeah. Sometimes. Most guys aren't exactly into 'big girls', ya know?"

"Hold up right there," he snapped. "Don't give me that shit. There's not a damn thing wrong with you or your body. You're fucking perfect and anyone who doesn't see that is fucking garbage."

Your eyes widened at the intensity of his tone. "I--"

"Those guys are boys, (Y/N), not men. They'll never treat you the way you should be treated," he said, cutting you off. "Don't even realize they've got a damn goddess in their midst," he mumbled, almost as an afterthought.

Your brain was operating at about 10,000 miles an hour. Bucky had just said a whole bunch of shit that you needed a moment to process. All of it was complimentary of you, some of it intensely so. Your only question was, what the hell did it mean?

You both went back to "watching" the movie as if that conversation hadn't just happened. You were still processing what he'd said, and Bucky was kicking himself for opening up his damn mouth.

The current scene transitioned to a very romantic moment, which quickly turned into a literal sex scene. You suddenly felt acutely aware of your proximity to Bucky, and you focused all your energy on breathing like a normal person.

Bucky's fist clenched under the blanket and his breathing sped up slightly. He wasn't at all turned on by the actual movie, but rather by his own imagination. He was imagining that the girl on the screen was you...and the man was him.

You felt the change in Bucky's body almost immediately. His shoulders tensed, his breathing changed, and he didn't move a single muscle. If it weren't for the rapid rise and fall of his chest, you'd think he was a statue.

You swallowed thickly, eyes now glued to Bucky's profile. You couldn't tear your eyes away, no matter how badly you wanted to.

Bucky could feel your gaze burning into him and it only made him want you more. He could feel his resolve slipping, and he knew if he looked at you, it would be game over.

"Why have you been distant lately, Bucky?" you asked quietly.

Your question surprised him. "What?"

"You've been acting strangely ever since I moved back home. I wanna know why."

You could practically hear the gears turning in his brain as he struggled to come up with a lie, some good reason for his behavior. "I've just been busy, doll. That's all."

You scoffed. "That's bullshit, James Barnes, and you know it."

An odd sound left his throat at your words. A sound you could only describe as a deep, low growl. "Don't say my name like that," he hissed.

"What, James?"

His eyes locked on you and if you didn't know him, you'd be terrified. He looked menacing, predatory. "Don't."

"Why not, James?" you murmured.

He gripped the blanket in both of his fists and you heard the gears of his metal hand whirring faster than normal. "You're treading in dangerous waters, (Y/N)."

His voice was lower than normal, deeper. You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on. "Then tell me the truth. Why have you been acting weird, James?"

The moment his name left your lips, he practically pounced on you, pushing you flat against the sofa, his large body caging yours in place. "Because I wasn't sure I'd be able to stop myself from doing this," he whispered before attaching his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

You were surprised by the kiss, but that quickly faded into desire. You kissed him back with equal passion and slid your hands up to grip the hair at the base of his neck.

He moaned against your lips when you gave the hair a little tug. You gasped slightly when his metal hand gripped your hip tightly, holding you against him. The parting of your lips gave him just enough space to slide his tongue into your mouth, immediately asserting his dominance over you.

It wasn't until he felt a burning sensation in his lungs that he pulled away from you. You both gulped down deep breaths of oxygen, grateful lungs filling up to capacity.

Bucky looked down at you, pretty (y/e/c) eyes wide, lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. It was an exceptionally sexy image, one he wanted to commit to memory.

Suddenly, your phone rang, breaking the spell that hung in the room. You recognized the ringtone immediately; it was the one you had set for your dad. Unfortunately, Bucky recognized it too, eyes going wide with the realization of what had just happened. He jumped off of you as if you were literally on fire and he stood at the far side of the room, as far away as he could get from you without leaving the room completely.

You reached over to the coffee table and grabbed your phone, sitting up slowly as you answered it. "Hey, dad."

"Hey, kiddo! Just wanted to let you know that your mom and I made it to the hotel safely!"

"That's good. Did you guys have a good flight?"

"Yeah, no issues at all. Peggy--I--I'm sure she can hear you," your dad pulled the phone away from his head and you heard your mom's voice in the background.

"Hi, mom," you said with a chuckle.

"Hi, baby! We miss you already."

"No you don't," you teased. "You're at a resort in the Keys. I'm sure you're just fine without me."

"She's totally right," you heard your dad say in the background.

You heard what sounded like a smack and your mom grumbled something at your dad that you didn't catch.

They both yelled "I love you!" before ending the call.

You sat your phone down, and continued to stare at the wall, afraid to look in Bucky's direction. You could see him pacing out of the corner of your eye, and you slowly built up the courage to raise your gaze to him. "Buck--"

"Don't," he snapped, hand coming up to silence you. "We shouldn't--I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

You stood up and started to move towards him. "You didn't do anything that I didn't want you to."

He moved farther away from you, his back touching the wall. "It's wrong, (Y/N)."

"Why? Because society frowns upon age gaps? Or because of your relationship with my dad?"

"Both," he said softly, "But mostly the latter."

"I don't care about either one, for what it's worth," you whispered.

Bucky finally met your eyes. "Doll, we can't. Your dad will kill me."

You shrugged. "He'll have to go through me."

His eyes widened. "You don't mean that."

"The hell I don't. I happen to like you, Bucky, a lot more than I should. I'll be damned if I let anyone tell me that I can't."

You could see the war waging inside of him. The do or do not...walk away or give in. You couldn't tell what he was going to choose, but you needed to know more than anything.

"Why me?" he whispered.

"What?"

"Why me? Why would you want me?"

You scoffed lightly. "I could ask you the same question."

He leveled a hard gaze at you. "Did you forget what I said earlier? You're perfection, a freaking goddess. Why wouldn't I want you?"

You bit your lip, his response sending a wave of desire straight to your core. "I don't actually have a smart ass response to that," you said lightly.

"Good, because I meant it. Every word." He took a step towards you. "Now, answer my question, (Y/N). Why me?"

You took a deep breath. "Because you're...well you're you. You're funny, sweet, annoying as hell. You're there for me when I need you, like a shelter in a storm. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about when I go to sleep. So...yeah," you finished lamely, having realized you may have said too much.

Bucky stared at you in silence for a few moments, words completely failing him. He had no idea that you felt that way about him, and fuck if it didn't change things for him. "You remember that girl I mentioned earlier? The one that I can't be with?"

You nodded, not entirely sure where he was going with this.

"I didn't realize it until a couple months ago; I suddenly found myself unable to be in her presence without feeling like I was drowning. Like my emotions were going to overtake me and I'd have no control over my actions. I was terrified of hurting her, of making the wrong move, of ruining the only good things I have going in my life...so, I pulled away. I distanced myself as much as humanly possible. I couldn't be near her without wanting her, but avoiding her only made it worse."

You knew he was talking about you, you could feel it in your bones, but you couldn't get your mouth to say the words. Thankfully, he did it for you.

"It's you, (Y/N/N). You're the one I can't get out of my head."

"Then how could I walk away?"

He looked at you in confusion.

"Knowing all of that, knowing exactly how you feel...how could I walk away from you? From this?" you asked quietly.

"Doll..."

You took a step towards him, then another, then another, until you could place your hand against his chest. "Please don't make me walk away," you whispered.

He looked down at you and he realized he couldn't let you go now. It was too late. Any semblance of control left him as he gazed into your eyes. After all, if you felt the same way, then why shouldn't you be together?

He pulled you against him, lips pressing down on yours softer than before. He placed his right hand against your cheek as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to take his time with you, to treat you the way you deserved to be treated, but he was 100% certain that he wouldn't have enough self-control for that.

You pulled away from him. "As much as I would love to make out with you in your living room for three hours, I don't think I have the patience to wait. I want you now."

He groaned. "I wanna worship you, doll," he whispered.

"We'll have time for that later." You palmed the bulge in his jeans and he hissed sharply. "I don't think you have the patience to wait either, James."

"Fuck," he groaned. He grabbed your thighs, pulling you up so your legs were wrapped around him. The ease with which he carried you to his room would have shocked you if you weren't so turned on by it. It was the first time in your adult life that your partner was able to manhandle you and you loved it.

He tossed you onto his bed and quickly began to remove his clothes. You followed suit, eyes never leaving his insanely sculpted body. You felt the insecurity about your own soft curves start to creep in, but the hungry way he looked at you was enough to dispel those instantly.

"Wait," he said as he climbed onto the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. "I wanna take those off."

You gave him a smile and simply nodded, allowing Bucky to remove your bra and underwear with a slow sensuality that almost had you begging for more.

He moaned sinfully as he took in your entirely naked form. "Shit, doll. How the hell did you get to be so perfect?" His tone was reverent and it had you dripping.

"Bucky," you moaned softly. "Touch me. Please."

He licked his lips. "Patience, doll. You've gotta learn your place." He stood back up. "You see, when we're in the bedroom, I'm in charge. Anywhere else, I'll be your servant, but here? Here, you're mine."

You moaned and arched your back at his words. You had no idea that you'd be so turned on by the idea of being so completely dominated.

"You like that, don't you?"

You bit your lip and nodded.

"I wanna hear you say it, pretty girl."

"I like it," you murmured.

He groaned as he palmed himself through his boxers. "You gonna be a good girl for me, baby?"

You whined loudly, clearly wanting to please him in any way you could. "Please, Bucky."

He grinned at you, eyes sparkling with need. He slipped his boxers off and you gasped as his cock sprung free.

"Holy shit," you said in awe.

He laughed lightly as he crawled back onto the bed, lips melting against yours. When he pulled back he whispered for you to move over.

You moved over and he collapsed beside you, laying on his back. You licked your lips as you eyed his cock, simultaneously wanting to feel it inside you and worrying about whether or not it would even fit.

As if Bucky could sense your trepidation, he touched your face and turned your gaze to his. "Don't worry, doll, I promise you'll be ready for me when the time comes."

You nodded, not entirely sure if you believed him.

He chuckled. "Trust me, baby, I've got you." He settled into place, pushing some of the pillows out of the way so his head laid flat against the bed. "Come on up, sweets. Wanna taste you."

"Huh?"

"Sit on my face."

"I'm sorry, you want me to what?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I want you to smother me with those thick thighs as I eat that pretty pussy until you can't stand it anymore."

You gasped loudly, his words sending an electric shockwave of need directly to your already dripping pussy. "I--I've never done that before," you whispered.

"First time for everything, sweets. Come here, I've got you."

You let him guide you as you climbed onto him, thighs on either side of his head. You hovered over him, unsure of how low you should go or how much pressure you should put on him.

He gave your butt a light swat. "Sit, doll."

"I am," you insisted.

"No," he dug his hands into your hips and pulled you down on top of him. "Fuck yes," he groaned as he licked into your pussy.

You gasped at the feeling of instant pleasure. You had never had a man eat you out the way Bucky Barnes was currently feasting on you. The sounds he made were sinful, but neither of you cared. Your moans were loud and your pleas did not fall on deaf ears. Every time you begged him for something, he provided it immediately. It didn't take him long to figure out exactly what you liked, something most of your previous partners never discovered.

"Bucky," you gasped, fingers digging into his hair as he pressed his face as far into you as he could. His lips and tongue were everything you never knew you needed. It was heaven, it was bliss, it was earth-shattering pleasure. It took him less than five minutes to have you coming apart on his mouth, body spasming as you orgasmed, soft whimpers of pleasure coming from your throat.

To your surprise, Bucky didn't stop when your orgasm subsided. He kept going, his grip on you tightening when you tried to escape. "Bucky, what--"

The pleasure began to build back up and you felt your body give into him completely. Bucky's moans reverberated deep inside you, letting you know exactly how much he was enjoying this.

You'd never felt anything like this before. The tightening in your abdomen, the shaking of your legs, the incredible pleasure you were feeling...it all culminated in another intense orgasm, only mere minutes after the first.

When you struggled against his grip this time, Bucky released you, allowing you to essentially fall onto the bed beside him. Your legs were weak and you were completely out of breath, despite the fact that he was the one who had done all the work.

Bucky licked his lips and shot you a heavy glance. "Anyone ever tell you that you taste incredible?"

You laughed lightly. "Can't say that anyone has."

He grinned and flipped himself so he was on top of you. "Well I'm more than happy to be the ultimate authority on that because no one but me is ever gonna be tasting this sweet pussy again, got it?"

Your eyes widened and you nodded.

"Come on, doll, I know you're still learning the rules, but I need to hear you say it."

"No one else, Bucky."

He groaned and rutted his hips down against yours. "You wanna know why, baby? Because you're mine," he growled.

"Yours, Buck. Only yours," you murmured.

He kissed you, your taste still lingering on his lips and tongue. You couldn't care less as you slid your tongue into his mouth and grabbed onto his shoulders to pull him down to you.

You both moaned as his cock brushed against your still soaking pussy. You realized that he would probably want you to return the favor, so you reached down to stroke his cock, surprised by the girth and length.

"Roll over, Bucky. Let me taste you."

He groaned into your neck before pulling away from you. "As much as I would love that, I don't think I can wait, doll. I need to feel that sweet little pussy wrapped around me."

Your eyes widened and concern covered his face.

"Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "If you don't want to, we can wait. It's okay."

"No, it's not that...It’s just--I've never," you paused to take a deep breath. "I've never had anyone that big before."

He chuckled. "You worried about it fitting?"

You nodded.

"It'll fit, baby, trust me. I'll go slow, okay? I don't wanna hurt you."

You trusted him completely, so you nodded your head. "I want you, Bucky," you whispered.

He groaned and gripped his cock in his right hand. He gave it a couple strokes before lining it up with your entrance. Almost belatedly, he realized something important. "Shit! Condom."

"IUD," you countered quickly.

"Oh thank god," he groaned as he started to push into you.

You gasped, mouth in the shape of an 'O' as he slid more and more of his cock inside of you, stretching you in a way that you'd never been stretched before.

"Shit, doll. You're so tight," he mumbled.

You clung to his arms, the only part of him you could reach. You couldn't say anything, the mix of the pain and the pleasure almost unbearable.

"You okay, sweets?" he whispered.

You nodded. "Keep going."

He leaned down to kiss you softly before pushing the rest of the way in. When he bottomed out, you both moaned, the feeling so incredible you needed a moment to just breathe.

Bucky gave you several moments to adjust before he began to move. The moment he did, your body arched up to meet his, gasps of pleasure leaving your mouth.

"You feel so good, doll. So warm and tight," he groaned.

"Faster, Buck--please," you gasped.

"You got it, doll." He sped up his thrusts, letting your moans guide his speed. The louder you moaned, the faster he thrust.

Each thrust was incredibly pleasurable, but what drove you wild was the way he spoke to you. He whispered soft words of praise against your skin, telling you how incredible you felt, how beautiful you were, how fucking perfect you were for him.

"You like it when I tell you how good you feel, huh, doll? You want me to tell you how sexy I think you are?"

You moaned, too far gone for any words.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. This pussy was fucking made for me. Takin' me so good. You're my good girl, aren't you?"

You nodded, gasping when he changed his angle.

He moaned loudly, feeling your pussy flutter around him. "There it is, sweets. Fuck--squeezing me so tight. Can feel how close you are."

Every single thrust hit your g-spot, a spot you hadn’t been sure actually existed before this. You could barely breathe, let alone think; the pleasure was simply too great. You dug your nails into his back as you cried out, orgasm tearing through you like wildfire.

"That's it, baby. Cover my cock. Feels so good."

Bucky's movements didn't falter, he kept thrusting into you, desperate to feel you release again before he let himself cum.

When you finally regained the ability to speak, your words were barely coherent. "Buck--too much."

"Just one more, doll. Give me one more."

"I--I can't--Oh, fuck--" you moaned loudly when his gentle fingers found your clit.

"You sure about that, doll?"

You continued to moan, but you didn't answer his question. He felt a little bolder now, a little more comfortable with you, so he slowed his motion. "Want me to stop, sweets?"

"Don't stop!" you cried out.

He grinned and quickly sped back up. "That's what I thought."

It took less than a minute for your fourth orgasm of the night to come crashing down on you. Wave after wave of pleasure ripped through your body, each spasm squeezing his cock so tightly he almost came undone.

He started to chase his own release, wanting to make sure you were thoroughly satiated first. "Fuck, baby--so good for me. Gonna fill you up, get you nice and full."

"Please, Bucky," you whimpered. "Wanna feel you."

"Yeah? You want me to cum inside that pretty pussy, huh?"

You nodded rapidly. "Please--I need it."

There was something about the needy tone of your voice that sent him over the edge. He came with a cry of your name, thrusts faltering as he spilled inside you, only pulling out when he was completely empty.

Bucky collapsed beside you, trying to catch his breath as he watched you come down from your own bliss.

After a few minutes of laying there, you were able to find words. "That was--fuck," you murmured.

He laughed and you joined in. "My sentiments exactly," he whispered, rolling towards you to plant a kiss to your temple.

"Am I supposed to be able to move?"

He grinned ear to ear. "Not if it was good."

"Think I'll be able to feel my legs by tomorrow?"

He laughed again. "You'll feel 'em, doll...but you might be walking funny."

"That's a new one," you said softly.

"I promise it won't be the last time," he said gently.

You turned your head to face him with a smile. "I sincerely hope not. I don't think I can live without your cock now. Or your mouth for that matter."

He laughed. "What about me?"

"Well...I suppose you're okay too," you teased.

He rolled over and tugged you into his chest. "Just okay? I'll show you just okay," he said lightly as he peppered kisses all over you.

"Bucky!" you laughed as you squirmed. "Stop--stop--I take it back!"

He grinned and kissed your lips softly. When he pulled back, his eyes were filled with an emotion you couldn't quite place. "I adore you, (Y/N). Just thought you should know."

You smiled at him and touched his face gently. "Me too, Buck."

He turned his head to kiss your palm before falling against the pillows again. "So I think we take a nice hot shower before crashing. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

"This would be a great time to make a joke about you being old, but I'm too tired for that," you joked lightly.

He grinned. "I just fucked you senseless, doll. You really wanna be cracking jokes about my age?"

"Touché."

He kissed the top of your head before pulling himself out of the bed. "Gonna start the shower. Make sure it's nice and hot."

When he came back, you looked up at him sheepishly. "I, umm--I don't think I can stand."

He grinned ear to ear. "You have no idea how much pride that makes me feel."

You laughed. "Maybe if you just help me up--"

Bucky cut you off by scooping you out of the bed and carrying you to the shower. You should have known he wouldn't let you try to walk.

He stepped into the shower and gently set you down on the bench at the edge of his massive shower. Thank god for the damn bench, you thought to yourself.

Bucky quickly washed himself before coming over to you and beginning to wash you. He moved slowly, gently, almost reverently, making sure every single inch of your skin was clean. When he decided you were thoroughly bathed, he turned off the water and carried you out of the shower, setting you on the marble countertop to dry you off.

When you were dry, he carried you back to his bed and gently laid you down beneath the covers. "Do you want pajamas? Mine will be too big for you, but I'm happy to give you some."

"Maybe just a shirt?"

"You go it, doll." He walked to the dresser, pulled out a t-shirt, and brought it over to you.

You threw it on quickly, surprised at how big it was on you. The guy was literally over 6 feet tall and nothing but muscle, but still. When you looked up at him, you were surprised to find him staring at you. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"Sorry, sweets. You just look so hot in my shirt."

You laughed. "Thanks, Buck." You patted the bed beside you. "Come to bed."

Bucky quickly turned off all the lights and slipped into the bed with you. "I, umm--I sleep naked. Is that okay?"

You turned to look at him, mock disgust on your face. "So gross. I'm horrified," you teased.

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "I just wanted to make sure."

"I had your dick inside me like 30 minutes ago, Bucky. I think I can handle sleeping beside your naked body."

He felt his dick twitch slightly at your words, but he did his best to ignore it. Plenty of time for that later. He rolled towards you and kissed you softly. "Goodnight, beautiful."

You smiled warmly. "Goodnight, Bucky."

**********

You stirred when a ray of sunlight slipped through the curtains and into your eyes. You could tell by the shade of the ray that it was still early in the morning. You rolled over and were surprised to find Bucky still sound asleep beside you. You knew he was an early riser, so he was very likely to wake up soon.

As you laid there watching him, an idea popped into your head. You weren't sure if it was something you should do, but the more you thought about it, the more irresistible the thought became.

Lucky for you, Bucky was a hot sleeper. He'd thrown off all but a sheet sometime during the night. He was laying on his back, breathing even, eyes shut tightly.

You moved slowly, careful not to disturb him. You sat up and slowly peeled back the sheet. Much to your surprise, his cock was already half hard. You smirked, feeling like the gods had smiled down on you.

You were very gentle as you took his cock into your hands and slowly began to stroke it. He stirred slightly, clearly feeling something even if his brain couldn't place it.

As his cock began to harden more, you slipped it into your mouth, sucking slowly, letting soft moans of pleasure slip from your lips.

Bucky really began to wake up then, but he was still in a daze. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he knew it felt good.

You continued sucking as his cock grew to its full size. In moments he was rock hard and his hips were moving against your mouth of their own accord.

Bucky's eyes fluttered open and he slowly looked around the room. When he looked down, his breath caught in his chest at what he saw: your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock, bright (y/e/c) eyes locked onto his face.

You moaned softly, as if to acknowledge the fact that he was now fully awake. Your moan pulled one from deep in his own throat.

"Fuck, doll--feels so good," he moaned. "I'm so close, baby. Keep going."

You were surprised by his words, thinking it would take longer to work him to orgasm. But you didn't stop, in fact, you sped up slightly.

"Oh, god--" his hands tangled in your hair and his hips bucked up slightly. "Just like that."

You focused more of your efforts on the tip, using your hands to stroke the rest.

"That's it, baby--oh, fuck--" Bucky's body tensed and he came with a loud groan, filling up your mouth with his seed.

You swallowed every drop, mouth not leaving his cock until he pulled you gently up towards him. He kissed you softly before rolling you over so you were under him.

"Good morning," he whispered.

You grinned. "Good morning."

"You're gonna have to sleep over every night if that's how you're gonna wake me up."

You licked your lips. "I wouldn't complain."

He groaned. "You're gonna be the death of me, doll."

"Is that cuz you're old?" you teased.

He looked at you in surprise, but his eyes started to darken. "You sure you wanna go there, sweets?"

You stood your ground, knowing you were going to be rewarded for it. "It must be because you're old, or you wouldn't--"

Your words were cut off by his fiery kiss. He barely gave you time to register what was happening before his head was in between your legs and you were crying out in pleasure.

You knew you were in for one hell of a morning...but you wouldn't have it any other way.

#james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes #dbf!bucky #dbf!bucky Barnes x reader #dbf!bucky Barnes x plus size!reader #plus size!reader #plus size smut

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captainsimagines · 2 years

Text

the warmth of the future || two

Summary: It’s been two years since you fell in love with Bucky Barnes, and the holidays are just around the corner. With even more love, more friends, and more family in attendance, you and Bucky fully intend to enjoy these days with as little drama as possible. But that’s not always the case with a relationship like yours, is it?

Pairing: DBF James “Bucky” Barnes x (Fem) Reader

Based on the Song: ‘Willow’ by Taylor Swift

Warnings: strong language; bar games; age difference kink; exhibitionism; jealous! Bucky; dom+sub vibes; some angst

Word Count: 8,890+

Author’s Note: Sorry? Lol

You’re barely entering the kitchen, head a matted mess, when the conversation snags your attention.

“Steven,” Pietro says quietly, sitting at the dining table, his hands intertwined in front of him. “Be honest with me.”

Steve sips his coffee, the white t-shirt he’s wearing already branded with a small coffee stain. His eyebrows scrunch as he responds, treading carefully. “I am being honest with you. Wanda has never flirted with me like that.”

Pietro releases a comical, shaky breath. “Oh, thank God—”

“I mean,” Steve continues, reaching over for the box of blueberry muffins. “She sometimes calls me cute. Tells me that I’m respectful and she doesn’t understand how I’m single. She even gives me free flowers whenever I visit because you guys typically have extras.”

Pietro freezes, his eye twitching. “This is the first time I’m hearing about the flowers.”

“Oh? Was I not supposed to be getting free flowers? I like to twirl the tiny ones around my watch so I can smell them from time-to-time.”

Your dad blows over his own coffee mug, his chest vibrating with a small laugh. “Now you know how it feels, Pietro.”

“How what feels?” Steve asks, looking around the kitchen. Even Peter and Sam are participating, enjoying their muffins at the dining table. “What’s going on?”

Bucky sighs, clapping Steve on the back. “I’ll tell you later, buddy.”

“What’s all this?” you finally interject, stepping off the stairs. Your dad moves to fill your mug, passing it to you with a kiss at the top of your head.

“Pietro thinks Wanda’s trying to get at Steve,” Sam chuckles.

“She is! Back me up—Tell them what she said yesterday,” Pietro begs you, filling his mouth with muffin and coffee at the same time.

“I don’t recall her saying such a thing,” you answer, your expression of fake confusion taunting him.

“What—”

“Besides, Wanda going after Steve? Ew.”

Steve’s mouth drops, a quiet squeak escaping. “Women love me.”

“I don’t believe it,” you say, still sarcastic. Pietro seems to want to slap his hand over your mouth. “Maybe you should flirt with her to get your answer.”

Pietro throws his arms in the air, giving up. Everyone joins in on the laughter. Steve and Wanda—a couple? Steve never brought home his dates and just like Bucky before, he never had many long-term relationships. It was an odd match, just as you and Bucky are, but what of it? Maybe they’ll hit things off. Maybe there will be a spark no one thought would ignite. Maybe they’ll fall in love and truly experience what that emotion feels like.

When you think of Bucky—who’s currently shoveling muffins and biscuits into his mouth—your heart is near seconds from exploding. That slight ticklish feeling, that melting Clint urged you to recognize two years ago. Even the heartwarming impression of Bucky giving you your first flower—all these emotions tied into one and sometimes you thought you were going to throw up. Liking Bucky, loving Bucky, made you feel sick. But that good kind of sickness. The kind that kept you moving, that kept you from spiraling, the kind that promised to have all the answers to even the most insane questions.

So, yes, Wanda and Steve would make an odd couple. But they were so similar in so many ways. Wanda, loud and eccentric, who only wanted to share her excitement and love of multiple things with someone other than Clint, Kate, or Pietro. Steve, reserved and witty, who only wanted to listen to people’s wonders and help them see them.

You were mature enough to let the conversation take an alternative road, and once everyone but you, Sam, Bucky, and Pietro were left in the kitchen, finishing off the muffins, the conversation steered into something more personal.

“He’s been dating her for a year and a half,” you comment. “Dad’s not going to propose. Is he?”

Sam grits his teeth in an awkward smile. “I think he is, Bumblebee.”

Your mouth parts, “But he would have told me!”

“Monica’s all he talks about.” Okay, that was true for you too. Your dad couldn’t shut up about Monica whenever you asked about her. Sometimes you would lay the phone down on speaker and continue whatever you were doing as he rambled on. “He’s so fucking getting that ring, Bumblebee.”

And see, you want him to propose to her. Monica is an absolute sweetheart and perfect for your dad. Your relationship with her, considering you hardly ever see her in person, is that of good friends. You’d definitely call her if you needed help. It’s just breaking your heart in three different places that your dad hadn’t mentioned his intentions to you.

“Well, when do you think he’s going to do it? At the Christmas party?”

Bucky adjusts himself in his seat, his fingers tapping his thighs rapidly with no set rhythm. “I think he mentioned waiting until New Years, actually.”

“He told you that?” Pietro urges. “He only said that he was waiting for you—”

Sam quickly interjects, “And you ruined the surprise!” Did he, though? “Bumblebee, your dad was going to ask for your permission to marry, of course.”

“My permission?” Your dad has never been married, so why would he need your permission? “He’s a grown man.”

Bucky raises his metal hand in a I-don’t-know fashion. “Father-daughter bonding, I guess. But I remember him mentioning proposing on New Years yesterday.”

“Huh.” They were all acting really weird. Well, Pietro wasn’t but that’s because he only pretends to know half the shit going on. “Interesting.”

The front door slams open and Clint wanders into the house, wiping snow off his shoulders. “It’s coming down like hellfire out there!” He throws his jacket over a barstool, then wipes at his face. “Kate’s gonna have to shovel the snow out before the fundraiser tonight.”

Pietro immediately stands, raising a hand as if volunteering. “You think I would be any help now? I could—”

Clint shoves a hand into Pietro’s chest, effectively stopping him from walking past. Clint makes a show of sniffing the air and studying the faces of everyone in the kitchen. Then, with his eyes opening wide and a smile splitting his face, he exclaims, “You had sex! Your phone is vibrating like crazy! You’ve been leaving to help Kate way too often. I don’t even help my damn niece as much as you do.”

“Hey, woah, wait—” Sam tries, but Clint’s cackle cuts him off.

“Of course you don’t smell like sex, Wilson. Last time you slept with someone, people were still wearin’ pagers.”

“Okay, hold up—”

“These two fucked last night. They’re not even tryin’ to hide it!”

Your mouth opens and closes with surprise. Bucky hides his face in his hands. “How the fuck did you—”

“I didn’t! But look at that, your dumbass just admitted it.”

“You snuck past me last night?” Sam blinks at you, chuckling between each word.

“Clint,” you groan, smacking your forehead against the dining table. “Why today? Why two days before Christmas? Why couldn’t your present to me be shutting the fuck up?”

“Right, sorry, sorry,” Clint apologizes, pushing Pietro down back into his chair. “Sam, why is your phone havin’ seizures?”

Sam pushes his phone across the table, huffing as he reveals, “It’s my nephews, man. Sarah was going to surprise all of you guys on Christmas morning, but look at that, surprise spoiled.”

“You could have lied!” Clint says, picking up Sam’s phone, unlocking it, and scrolling through the messages. How he knows the passcode, you don’t know.

“You would have just done that,” Sam deadpans.

“Sarah and the boys are coming?” you yell. Fuck, you’ve got to buy even more gifts.

“Yup, room booked and everything. Just, keep it a surprise for everyone else, will ya?”

“But,” Clint whines, “We see everyone tonight! How can I keep it a secret?”

“You will or else Sarah will beat your ass, not me.”

"Noted."

Horrendous fact that Sam, Clint, and Pietro now know you fucked Bucky last night aside, you can’t help but be delighted with even more guests. Especially family you haven’t seen in years. Pictures don’t do the boys justice, so they’re probably towering you in height by now.

“Am I free to go now?” Pietro carefully inquires. Clint eyes him suspiciously, like he’s a bug that needs trapping.

“Guess Wanda’s openin’ up the shop then?”

Pietro nods. “Tell her I’m at Kate’s?”

With only slight hesitation, Clint lets him go. Pietro sprints out of there, waving goodbye as he exits the front door. Bucky clears his throat, “Is it just me or is everyone getting romantic this holiday season?”

“It’s just you,” Clint quickly replies. “C’mon man, or we’ll be late for the appointment.”

“Appointment? Where?” you ask.

Bucky bites his bottom lip, lightly stuttering. “Some tax specialist…guy.”

Blinking, you stare at Bucky in a way that tells him he’s going to regret lying to you, but that you also find his attempt at lying really funny.

Sam shakes his head. “Idiot.”

Clint waves a hand through the air. “Don’t worry about it, Bumblebee. It’s just a Christmas thing.”

“Don’t go overboard on the presents,” you chastise, standing to wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck, hugging him close. “You’ve bested me two years in a row now.”

Bucky chuckles deeply, raising one of your hands to kiss your palm. “But you deserve the best, Doll.”

“Blagh,” Clint gags. “We’ll see you guys tonight.” And with that, Clint ushers Bucky’s sweatsuit-covered ass out the front door.

“What kind of morning was that?” You turn to Sam, who’s smiling toward the two who just left.

“Chaotic, huh?”

“Yeah.”

It’s always chaotic, and this morning didn’t even include the full cluster of personalities. If Kate had been here, she would have been as loud as Clint. If Wanda had been here, you bet the conversation about her and Steve would have delved into more specific scenarios. If Peter would have stayed instead of leaving to explore the town, he would have seen the light being shone on all your family stories. Especially the holiday ones.

And what the hell was it with Bucky and Clint being secretive about that appointment? And your dad not telling you he’s proposing?

But nope. Nope. This holiday season was going to run smoothly. You would make sure of it.

“You’re kidding.”

Wanda shakes her head as she brings her coffee to her mouth. Kate slams her forehead down onto the counter, alarming the elderly customer smelling the poinsettias. You stare at them both, mouth dropped open and breakfast sandwich abandoned.

“Was no one going to tell me that Pietro’s got a thing for you?”

Kate groans softly, rolling her forehead against the counter. “He’s not really trying to hide it anymore, is he?”

Wanda snorts, sputtering some drops of coffee. Some strands of her dirty-blonde hair catch them. “He’s had a crush on you since high school.”

“Okay, no.” Kate finally raises her head, holding up an index finger. “It’s been over ten years. That man has not been harboring a crush on me for that long. He has not. Bumblewumble, tell her she’s crazy.”

“Um. I haven’t observed much, obviously. Now less than ever.”

Kate rolls her eyes. “But every time you visit, do you notice anything?”

Let’s see.

There was that time when you were all enjoying morning coffee and you noticed Pietro was a little too engrossed in Kate’s retelling of The Princess and The Frog. Sound effects, hand movements, everything. But Pietro stared at everyone intently, as if his whole heart was in it.

There was also last summer when you all went on vacation together for a week and you noticed that Pietro tried—obviously, too—not to stare at Kate in her yellow bikini. But you just thought he was being respectful. You certainly had an eyeful, Bucky too.

And Pietro usually sits near Kate every chance he gets. He volunteers to drink her wild drink concoctions. He lets her borrow his truck, especially when it rains.

“Fuck, I think he does.”

Wanda cheers, laughing loudly when Kate slams her forehead down again. The elderly customer slides beside Kate shyly, placing a basket of poinsettias near the register. Wanda hops off the counter to ring up her order.

“Kate.” Your voice is stern as it comes out. You lean your upper body downward since you’re also sitting on the counter. Kate blinks one eye open. “Do you not like him back? Is that the problem?”

“I mean…” Her nose scrunches as the words start to take form. “I do. I really do. But why now? Why is he making it so obvious now?”

You have the same question.

“If I may,” the older customer interrupts, her pale face reddening. “A lot of people get romantic during the holidays.”

Wanda nods, swiping the debit card through. “That could be the main reason he’s being obvious about it now. We’ve got the prime example right here about holiday hook-ups and their success rate.”

“Hey!” you laugh, swiping the air in a pretend smack. “My story was magical!”

“Your story was crazy cliché and rare at the same time. Make it make sense,” Kate whines.

The customer laughs along with the three of you. “Sometimes men just need a little boost. Whether it be liquid courage, Christmas lights, or the sound of music.”

“Oh! That could be why I’m feeling things for Steve!” Wanda concludes, as if she’s just solved an unanswerable problem.

“You don’t feel things for Steve,” Kate mumbles. “A certain part of you does.”

You snort, trying not to share your own dirty remarks out of respect for the customer. But the customer surprises you three again as she says, “When you think of this boy, does he make you happy?”

Kate sighs, her smile almost sad. “Yeah.”

“And would it be so bad to tell yourself you might like him, too?”

To that, Kate takes a little while longer to respond. She turns to you, worrying her bottom lip. “You took a chance with Bucky that could have destroyed our friend group and family. No offense. Pietro and I are here everyday, and you and Bucky are all the way in New York. You have more freedom. If Pietro and I don’t work out or if something bad happens, it would be worse.”

You one-hundred percent understand where she’s coming from. Dating within a friend group, especially a friend group as close as yours, is dangerous.

“Then keep holding out, dear,” the customer shares, cradling her order. “Sometimes you just don’t know the answer until they’re on their knees in front of you.”

“Great,” Kate says. “He’s gotta propose first, then date me?”

“Men get on their knees for other reasons besides marriage, dear.”

Your mouth drops, a potato chip loose and dangling. Wanda shares the same expression as she mutters, “We have a really good friend you’d probably like. Her name is Peggy.”

The older woman smiles. “I believe I would. She’s my aunt.” The revelation sticks with you long after the customer, Sharon, leaves with your regards for Peggy and Wanda’s flowers.

“So what about it, Kate?” you push, finishing the last bite of your sandwich.

Kate shrugs, stealing a sip from Wanda’s cold coffee while she helps another customer. “I guess I won’t know my answer until he’s on his knees.”

The atmosphere would never change in this bar. That mixture of home life, forty-year old fathers watching the weekend games, and after-school sport celebrations. This was perhaps the only bar on the east coast that had a special area for underage customers. Despite the segregation, a few drifters were crossing the boundary to put their names in to participate in the bar games tonight. Fundraising bar games. With both alcohol and water provided.

The distinction was important—Kate had been yelling it for the past twenty minutes.

“Water for you, Mr. Star Quarterback. It’s gonna take a shit ton more to pull a fast one on me.”

The cute blond kid snickers, thanking her for his glass of water. Before he leaves, however, he shoots Wanda a quick wink. Wanda waves him away, grinning widely. “It makes me insanely insecure that I’m unable to pull guys my own age.”

Oh, but she was trying to pull Steve? You don’t mention that to her, though.

Kate laughs, “I’ve told you a million times that Clint has a crush on you.”

Wanda gags dramatically, “Clint has a crush on everyone. And shut the fuck up, Kate. That’d be like fucking my brother.”

Now Kate gags. Some beer dribbles from your bottom lip as you choke, “No. Don’t say that shit again.”

“Clint’s basically my brother.”

“And yet, not. The comparison you just made is fucking frightening.”

Wanda scoffs, but the music playing on the overhead speakers catches her attention mid-thought. Not just hers, it seems. Yours and Kate’s, too. The three of you are a synced chorus of intrusive thoughts.

Give it up to Kate for playing pop music tonight. And when pop is introduced, so is Taylor Swift.

“BUT I MISS—SCREAMING AND FIGHTING AND KISSING IN THE RAIN, IT’S TWO AM AND I’M CURSING YOUR NAME. SO IN LOVE THAT YOU ACT INSANE AND THAT’S THE WAY I LOVED YOU!”

Then, from across the room, Peter Parker joins in with, “BREAKING DOWN AND COMING UNDONE, IT’S A ROLLERCOASTER KIND OF RUSH!”

The whole bar freezes for your small performance, but it’s just the chorus that’s screamed. To scream that whole song would leave your throat raw.

Wanda’s composure straightens literally as quickly as she lost it. “Would you fuck Clint?”

Taking a sip from your beer, your heart trying its best to ignore the second verse of the chorus coming up, you admit, “I’d actually rather die.”

Clint materializes from the backroom, lugging a case of beer on his shoulder. He takes them out one-by-one, placing them into their own pretty containers of ice as he curses, “Fuck you, Bumblebee. You know what? If you and I were the last people on Earth, and you begged for my cock, I’d say no. You would die of horniness. I’d jack off in front of you to show you what you’re missin’.”

You smile around the tip of your beer bottle, eyes sparkling with laughter. Your expression of amusement has Clint puffing a breath with his hands on his hips. You're incredibly thankful your dad was spending the night with Monica and had to miss the fundraiser. If he heard this conversation…

Kate cracks open a beer for herself. “Not even to repopulate the Earth?”

The fact Clint actually takes a few seconds to theorize his answer is brilliant. “After, it would be some creepy Adam and Eve shit where brother fucked sister. So, no. Not even then.”

“Good answer,” you tell him, reaching over to pat his shoulder encouragingly.

“But.”

“Stop talking.”

“If we’re truly the last ones on Earth, why bother? I’d kill you out of mercy and murder myself after. There, problem solved.”

The sound of cheering interrupts whatever it is Clint is about to say next. You see Captain Rogers fist bump the air, then grip Pietro’s shoulders proudly. Which can only mean they’ve added another point to their scoreboard. On the opposite team, Sam and Bucky sit with sore faces, rolling their eyes every chance they get. According to their scoreboard, they’re five points behind and losing. Which means the twenty dollars they each donated was about to raise to forty each.

“Your boyfriend is fuckin’ stupid,” Clint comments, stepping around the bar to take the seat beside yours.

With a quick kick to Clint’s shin, you rebuke, “It was an unfair question.”

A question you didn’t hear, but hey, you’ve got to defend your man.

Clint snorts, adjusting his hearing-aid. “Which football team won the 1998 Superbowl? The Rams? Fuck outta here.”

“Rams won in 2000.”

“Completely different numbers, stupid.”

“Next person who says stupid automatically donates a hundred without even participating in the games,” Kate chastises, handing a customer their beer.

Wanda purses her lips at both you and Clint. “Then maybe you should have been on your boyfriend’s team. And you should have joined the game when they were calling volunteers.”

Clint waves a hand through the air. “Sports trivia isn’t really my thing.”

“Then why are you bullying Bucky for it?”

Clint smirks. “To get your panties in a twist.”

This time, the sound of cheers is also accompanied by Sam’s loud whoop. High-fiving Bucky, who’s red in the cheeks and definitely not looking down at his lap, Sam points at the scoreboard until their 7 becomes an 8.

“Wooo!” you shout, cupping your hands around your mouth. Bucky looks up and tries desperately hard not to grin wider, but your constant shouts are making it hard not to. You give him a thumbs-up, which he enthusiastically returns. Pietro leans back on his bar stool, all the way around Steve’s shoulder, just to shoot you a nice view of his middle finger.

Bucky’s lucky guess wasn’t enough for him and Sam to win the game, though. They suffer Steve and Pietro’s badgering, and release heavy sighs as they fish that extra twenty dollars from their wallets. Walking over to you at the bar, Bucky kisses you on the forehead. “Apparently I don’t know sports as well as I thought I did.”

You mock a pout. “It’s okay. Maybe they’ll have a Lord of the Rings trivia next time.”

“Ha, ha.”

Kate grabs the microphone by the cash register and announces the next game. “Alright, my lovely townspeople! It’s time for the talent portion! If you’ve got a talent and think you’ll bring in those good tips, let’s see what you got!”

“Anyone got a secret talent they want to bestow upon us?” Steve asks, nodding his thanks at Kate as she hands him a beer.

“I’m really flexible,” Wanda comments, batting her lashes.

“Something worthy?” Steve replies.

Wanda fakes hurt, while Pietro sends her a grossed-out glare. You don’t have many talents that you can just whip out and bring in the big bucks with, so you choose to remain silent. In that silence, you look around the room, to the entrance, where the doors swing open and bring with them a flood of people. In that flood, surprisingly, is Peter Quill.

“Quill!” you call, waving your hand excitedly in the air. He spots you instantly, his grin widening. Wanda slaps your thigh repeatedly, her words jumbled. Clint automatically mimics her. Your thighs take matching assaults as you wait for Quill to step into your circle of friends.

“Hey!” He greets everyone with the same lovely smile, the same strong handshake. When he gets to Bucky, he doesn’t comment on the metal appendage. Everything goes smoothly, no matter how many of Peter’s instincts scratched at the back of your skull.

Speaking of Peter—Oh, he’s at the free video game consoles. Of course he is.

“You came!”

Quill shrugs, blushing lightly. “I don’t get out much and I heard about the roof. You got a guy for it already, Bishop?”

Kate smacks a hand towel over her left shoulder. “I’m thinking on a few. Why? You volunteering?”

Again, he shrugs. A loose yet individual gesture for him. “My guys usually do floors, but I’m all yours if you need me. I’ll even give you the ‘I-went-to-high-school-with-you’ discount.”

Kate smiles, all teeth. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

Quill finally turns back to you, pretending not to notice the smacking hands. “I’m here to donate my money and my time, Bumblebee. What mischief have you been getting into without me?”

You roll your eyes at the nickname this whole town has adopted for you, it seemed. “Well, we’re waiting on volunteers for the talent portion.”

“I’m sure you can pull something together in such short notice,” Quill smirks.

“Uh.” That was Bucky. “I’m sorry, I’m not quite placing you…Who are you?”

Fuck. The conversation was flying so quickly that you completely forgot to introduce them. “Right! Bucky, this is Peter Quill! Quill, this is Bucky Barnes!”

“Bucky Barnes!” Quill repeats enthusiastically. “Man, you were a legend growing up!”

“The one and only,” Bucky shyly responds.

“Quill and I went to high school together,” you explain.

Quill shakes his head, smiling. “We also dated for a year.”

At this, Bucky stills. Not from outright jealousy, but something else. Okay, a little bit from jealousy.

A lot from jealousy.

But something else is combined with it. Something akin to wounded. Like the very fact you hadn’t mentioned Quill, or the fact you had invited him tonight, or not mentioned him being an ex in your introductions, hurt him just a little. Yet he buries that under a thousand other feelings for now. It’s a good night, has been a fun night, and he doesn’t want to ruin it by lashing out with some petty bullshit.

So he answers with, “Ah. Small town and all, I guess.”

Quill chuckles, “Still is, always will be.”

“Hang on,” Kate interrupts. “Let’s get back to the talent portion. Pietro, you sing right?”

Pietro’s mouth parts with stuttering noises. Sam and Steve grip his shoulders and shake him wildly, shouting their encouragement as Pietro continues to shy away from the stares. That little tidbit had been stored near the back of your mind for years now. Pietro never really sang in front of crowds, nor did he whip out his guitar and piano during parties. Sometimes though, you would hear soft melodies escaping the closed office doors where you knew Pietro kept his keyboard piano, and very rarely would his voice join in. He performed in the school talent shows which is how you all know he was better than most, but he hasn’t performed in public since. It was mostly you and Kate stealing the spotlight during your senior year, with plays and cheerleading and track and field. Pietro was satisfied with cheering from the sidelines.

It’s not like he didn’t have a support system. You, Kate, and Wanda were his biggest fans, as were the four burly men screaming from the audience. Your dad, Steve, Sam, and Bruce. Tonight, that support system would definitely explode if Pietro decided to perform. Minus Bruce, but he was a rare occurrence nowadays anyway. Maybe next Christmas his magnificent brain would cool it with the scientific discoveries.

“I don’t know,” Pietro shyly admits. “I didn’t bring my guitar or keyboard with me.”

“I’ve got my old one upstairs. You might have to twist those thingies at the top or whatever, but it could work! Hold on,” Kate excitedly offers, abandoning the bar to race up the backstairs. Clint sighs deeply, hopping the counter to tend to customers.

“You don’t have to go up there if you don’t want to,” you assure him. “I’m confident someone will volunteer soon.”

Pietro gives a timid smile, his gaze settled on the stairs. As if waiting for Kate to return. “She needs the money.” Then, in a low whisper, “And it would make her happy.”

The whole exchange completely tears your attention away from Bucky and Quill. Quill, who’s watching Pietro light up by the mere sight of Kate’s busted guitar. Bucky, who’s watching Quill.

“We have a volunteer!” Kate shouts, clapping her hands together to incite a round of applause. Pietro sucks in a deep breath, climbs the small stage in the corner, and drags the microphone to his height. The bucket near his feet catches the snow and water dribbling down from the hole above. It’s both a problem and a stunner—the snow glistens white and orange, while the moonlight reflects the Christmas lights. A shame it has to be fixed. But at this one moment, it works.

“I don’t usually do this,” he tells the crowd. “But it’s for a friend. And she really needs her roof fixed.”

He picks at the strings, messes with those thingies at the top, and begins. Something twists in your gut as the first notes of Taylor Swift’s ‘Willow’ fill the bar—Kate’s favorite song. The song she put on her playlist a thousand times. The song she labeled yours and Bucky’s. A song with notes and verses that made you see Bucky in a whole new light.

Pietro’s deep and sensual voice carries, grabbing the attention of dozens of customers. The longer he sings, the longer he turns words into wine, the shorter that invisible, glowing string between you and Bucky becomes. Shorter, nearing its final merger, calling two souls to combine. Bucky comes up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, and settling his chin on your shoulder. Slowly, he rocks you both back and forth, dancing. Dancing in a rundown family bar, with snow sneaking through, surrounded by the people you love most.

And you love him, you love him, you love him. You don’t care that he lied to you earlier today. You don’t care about the secret, surprise, or catastrophic revelation. Bucky Barnes is holding you like you’re the Christmas spirit itself, and you love him.

“He’s only looking at her,” Bucky whispers into your ear, ruffling your hair. You follow Pietro’s gaze to the bar, where Kate has paused, towel held in both hands against her chest, an expression of pure awe painted across her elegant face.

There, you realize how much you truly miss every year when you’re off in New York living your life. The number of days and nights and conversations. You miss it all. How long had Pietro been pining over Kate?

You don’t know. You’ll probably never know.

But you’re here now, witnessing it, and it’s enough.

Two other townspeople volunteered for the talent portion after Pietro. The grand total of five thousand was nearing, and you were absolutely sure this game of spin-the-bottle would push it over the top. It was a twenty-dollar charge to participate, and as Kate’s friends, you were basically obligated.

So everyone pushed tables to the side, dragging chairs over to form one large circle. Everyone apart from Kate and Pietro paid to participate. Considering Kate had to continue running the bar and Pietro volunteered to help her, you let it slide.

But if you had to sit in a damn circle and watch Clint kiss Bucky one more damn time, you were going to implode.

“You’re rigging it,” you scold him. “Spin it faster!”

Clint shoots kissy faces at you. “Jealous?”

“I have seen him kiss you, Steve, and Wanda tonight. Your luck is pissing me off.”

Clint cackles, but spins harder this time. It lands on you. With a loud groan, you prepare yourself for his weight as he shoots from his seat, lands in your lap, and smooches you. One large kiss that’s over in under a second. He winks over at Bucky, who’s sitting a couple seats away from you.

Bucky lifts a hand. “It’s a game, Barton.” Clint delivers the statement back in a teasing voice.

It’s your turn to spin. Crouching down, you spin and pray, watching the bottle land on Steve. With a wrinkle of your nose and a slight tilt of the head, you say, “Ew, ready?”

Steve huffs, offended. “Come here and get it over with.”

Skipping over, you grip his cheeks and kiss him quickly. His lips are soft, thank goodness. “Your turn!”

Steve stands to spin the bottle as you return to your seat. The bottle lands on Sam, and their shared kiss is forced at best. Steve gags, “Ugh, it’s like kissing my brother.”

“Let��s not make it into something it’s not,” Sam urges. His spin lands on you, and that it’s even more awkward than the first. But Sam is a good sport, and his kiss is to the side of your mouth. Gentle and sweet, like a friendship kiss.

But now this means it's your turn again, and worry starts building as you think about the number of strangers in the circle. Because kissing people you know is fine and dandy, but strangers are another story. Luckily, the bottle lands on Bucky. Cheers erupt around the circle. Two large strides is all it takes for you to plop down on his lap, and kiss him. With tongue, to Steve's dismay, who’s sitting right beside him.

“I’ll never escape it,” Steve mumbles, but at the same time Clint announces, “Hey, you know what I noticed?”

Pulling yourself from Bucky, you smirk down at him and wink. “What, Clint?”

“You’ve kissed all of your dad’s friends.”

You freeze, as do Bucky’s hands on your waist.

“You slut.”

Flicking your middle finger at him, Clint just laughs louder.

The walk back to your assigned chair is calculated, with a hip sway and a glance over your shoulder. All enough to make Bucky readjust his seated position, crossing an ankle over a knee.

As you plop down in your seat, Quill leans over to say, “That was…A deep one.”

“Yup!”

“Like…You two were really dedicated.”

You laugh, “Well, duh.”

Quill’s eyebrows push together as his mouth forms a confused ‘O’ in response. As if genuinely puzzled. Did he not see you two dancing earlier?

A few more spins of the bottle signal the end. The bottle lands on Quill, and a stunning blonde rises from her chair, glowing in the cheeks. Her blush reaches her neck as her friends hype her up. Chants of “Carol! Carol! Carol!”

Quill, ever the gentleman, kisses her softly and respectfully. Carol’s face turns even redder and her walk back to her seat is dazed. As Quill leans down to spin the bottle, you notice how Bucky frowns at him.

And his frown grows even deeper as the bottle lands on you.

Standing and dusting off your pants, you laugh awkwardly. “Alright, let’s just get this over—”

Quill struts forward, grabs your cheeks, and kisses you deeply. That type of kiss that calls for the push of all emotion in one’s body. That type of kiss that says, I’ve been wanting to do this forever. A kiss that Quill tries to deepen, where his hands are now traveling dangerously low on your back. You push at his chest, and he goes with it. His eyes meet yours—foggy and mystified. Then confused and hurt.

“What did I do?”

The whole bar quiets. Kate even pauses the overhead music like the nosy bitch she is. Words elude your stunted ass.

“Uh.” The cough comes from none other than Peter Parker, who has been sitting in the circle without a single bottle landing on him. “If you didn’t already notice, man—she’s dating Bucky.”

Quill blinks at you, surprised. Nodding, you give him a pained smile. “Thus your kiss was a little…inappropriate.”

Glancing around the circle, you meet the gaze of your friends. Of Wanda, frozen but smiling like a Cheshire cat. Sam and Steve, deers in headlights. Clint, mid-chew on a hot wing and lips twitching upward.

But it’s Bucky that your gaze finds last. There’s something simmering in his irises, but he’s cool otherwise. Leaning back in his chair, calm and collected. Arms crossed, and a smirk threatening to split.

“I think the game is over. Right, guys? Right?” Sam presses, rallying the others to agree. Everyone does. Chairs and tables are put back into their original places while you and Quill just stare at each other, words absent.

Bucky slowly walks to you both, standing to the side, scarily undisturbed. “That’s right!” He snaps his fingers, like he has just remembered something important. “I’m not just a friend. I’m her boyfriend, too.”

You swallow loudly. “I’m his girlfriend.”

Quill looks between you. “I didn’t assume…I’m sorry.”

Bucky lays a hand on Quill’s shoulder, patting once, then twice. “Of course you didn’t. But now you know.” He turns to you, his eyes dark. “I’m getting tired actually. Happy to head home with me?”

It’s not an order. It’s a suggestion. Because even though the obvious answer is to follow Bucky out of here, he's still giving you the chance to choose. So you nod, placing your hand in his outstretched one, and quietly tell Quill goodnight. He remains standing where you left him, watching as Bucky leads you outside, knowing exactly what Bucky’s going to do with you.

“Look,” you start, throwing your purse to the corner of the room. Bucky heads straight for the kitchen, not paying a single glance over his shoulder. “I should have told you yesterday when Peter and I ran into him. But it wasn’t the most important thing on my mind.”

Bucky whirls around, eyebrows high. “Not the most important thing? Doll, it was obvious tonight that Quill thought he stood a chance.”

“Because I failed to mention I was dating you!”

“He kissed you.” And those three words, the way Bucky delivered them, absolutely obliterates you. Because you understand he’s jealous, but he also hurt. You kissed a ton of people tonight, and it was consensual, but Quill’s kiss was too far.

“He kissed you, and you have a history, he’s your age, and I—” His voice cracks at the end. But he steels himself as he says, “And it bothered the fuck out of me.”

Sadly, Bucky’s thought about that before. When he notices the surprise on people’s faces when you introduce him as your partner. When the topic of children is brought up randomly. When visiting your family, seeing your dad, and being his age. It’s all awkward and so not the norm, but would Bucky trade it for something else? Definitely not. He just needs you to know he’s all in. Completely, embarrassingly all in. Fuck the age insecurity. He’s yours and you’re his. He needs confirmation before he—

“God, Bucky.” You race to stand in front of him, cupping his cheeks. You don’t continue speaking until his wounded eyes meet yours. “I love you. I dated that man ten years ago, and it was a healthy and mutual break-up. I choose you.”

“But—”

“But nothing.”

For a second, Bucky seems to accept this. His blue eyes go soft, familiar and warm. Yet, he closes them and breathes in deeply. His grip on your shoulders tightens. “He touched you. And even if we speak of it during sex, sweetheart—I do not share unless we both agree to it beforehand.”

Furrowing your brows, you reply, “Yeah, I get that. I don’t want him in any way, shape, or form.”

“I'm the only one who touches you.”

Ah. You see what’s happening. Bucky’s gone territorial. Alpha-male status. It was unnecessary because you definitely did not harbor romantic or sexual feelings for Quill. Not even a sliver. But for some reason—and you’re betting that reason has a shit ton to do with the age difference—Bucky feels the need to remind you, everyone, of his claim.

“You’re the only one I let touch me, anyway.”

It’s sarcastic, and totally not what Bucky needs right now. With a sharp inhale, Bucky orders, “Kneel.”

Oh fuck. Okay, shit. He’s going to go full-on ballistic alpha-male. You’ve role-played these roles before, dominant and submissive and all that jazz, but this included actual jealousy. What would it be like?

“Kneel,” he repeats, his hot breath hitting your cheeks. You’re about to find out what it’ll feel like, that’s for fucking sure.

Slipping onto the floor, you kneel before him, gazes connected. His metal hand reaches forward, gripping your chin roughly. “I’m the only one who gets to kiss you. Taste you. Fuck you.”

You whimper softly, trying your best to nod. But Bucky grips your chin harder, the action causing your mouth to drop open further.

“I know you understand, sweetheart. I don’t need your confirmation. I just need you to listen.”

Your thighs brace, wanting to inch closer together. You don’t do good on your knees—they bruise too easily.

“I thought we were clear. You belong to me, and I belong to you. But it seems I have to remind you.”

Slowly, you let your eyes close. Then Bucky’s fingers grip your cheeks instead, holding you steady. “You will look at me. You will know I’m the one fucking you.”

Bucky lets go of your face to reach for his belt. Excitement floods your veins, causing you to go hot and cold at the same time. The sound of Bucky’s falling belt buckle is one of your top five favorite sounds in the world, a sound that mixes your insides and drenches you instantly.

Leaning on the dining table, Bucky lowers his boxers just enough to pull his cock out. He’s half-hard, thickening just from the sight of you looking up at him. He doesn’t need to command you or give specific instructions—they’re clear enough.

With his metal hand cradling the back of your head, Bucky pushes you forward so your lips make contact with his hot skin. Slowly, teasingly, you kiss up his cock, poking your tongue out only lightly. It’s enough to drive him wild, and Bucky pushes you harder. “Get to work. The quicker you finish this, the quicker I’m fucking you.”

One last stripe and you take Bucky in your mouth, suckling the tip and sliding down gradually. You’re familiar enough with his cock to know just how quickly you could dare push, how much deeper. With only half of him in, a few light sucks wets him enough that you can move faster, taking him until your nose nearly touches his lower stomach. Gagging, you go to pull off but Bucky holds you tight, groaning.

“Tap my thigh if you really need it.”

Nodding the best you’re able, you continue bobbing. Throat clenching, saliva dripping, lipstick smudged. Painting his perfect cock a pinkish red. You can handle it by breathing through your nose, pacing yourself.

His roughness is not a new concept. It’s no new exploration. But the jealousy sprinkled on top? New, new, new. And it was making you physically ache, as if your center was made to be full and having an absence was sin.

“Just like—fuck—I love you.”

His words threaten to make you smile. Bucky is fully hard and aching inside your hot mouth, holding himself from toppling over the edge. On the rarest occasions does Bucky come within five minutes of you sucking him off. But when it’s this good, when your tongue feels just the added bit of velvety and soaked, when your enthusiasm tops his, when your anticipation tops his—he’s at risk of coming down your throat.

“C’mon, Doll. Get me right there. Right there,” he moans, tugging you back so he can meet your eyes. “I know you want me to come inside you. You want me to come inside you?”

Moaning, you suck faster. It’s his answer. “You want me to come inside your mouth?”

You try to shake your head, bobbing instead.

“No? Where do you want me to come?”

The pressure of his hand releases, and you pop off him. Swallowing in a deep breath, saliva dripping a long strand down your chin, you whine, “I want you to come inside me…Inside my…”

“Inside your…what? Pussy? Cunt? Use your words, sweetheart. You’re not a kid.”

No, you aren’t. Twenty-eight now, your age difference wasn’t all that shocking when introducing yourselves to new people. Bucky is forty-one, still too old for you by societal standards, but that fucking nickname…

Kid. Like he knew more than you. Like he had to walk you through the simplest of tasks. Like he held some form of authority.

“Come inside my pussy.” Even now, no matter how many times you’ve spoken dirty words to him, pussy was the hardest to deliver. Because it sounded so degrading, so nasty. But it was Bucky’s favorite way of describing you down there, the word that flowed more easily off his eager tongue. The word you hated saying, but loved him repeating.

Bucky hoists you up with unbelievable strength, holding you steady to him. Your legs wobble, knees numb. “Strip,” he commands, already helping you in removing your shirt. You both undress as quickly as you can, tension heavy in the air.

There was no one else home. Your dad wouldn’t be home soon, either. Bucky has you all to himself, and it excited you to a whole new level. Because this Bucky Barnes looked half in love, half furious. Full of pent-up jealousy and archaic alpha feelings that were battling his sensitive side.

Bucky glances toward the stairs, then to you, and it clicks. No longer can he restrain himself from burying himself inside you. No longer can he avoid feeling your warmth combine with his. He pulls you to him, a fervent display of impatience, and kisses you. His soft lips mold perfectly with yours, but it’s the teeth clattering and tongue battle that does it for you. Grabbing at his hands, you push them toward your hips, silently begging him to hurry. He backs you up to the couch, against the side table, but ultimately pushes you to the floor. Facing the front door, on your stomach, ready to be devoured.

“I’ve always wanted to be caught again,” Bucky admits, grabbing a pillow from the couch and shoving it beneath your face. You thank him with a long whimper, resting your cheek against it. He hoists your hips up, presenting your backside and drenched center. “And I was this close. This fucking close to ripping your clothes off in the middle of that goddamn circle—” Pushing your head down, Bucky leans over you and drags his cockhead against your cunt. “And fucking you right in front of that bold ex of yours.”

Bucky pushes into you, holding you down, making sure the slide is perfect. All too easily he buries himself to the hilt, hips connected to your backside. He’s always so deep at this angle, in this position. Like he’ll rip you in half, like his cock massages that spot specifically. So full, and ready to be fuller.

“I…love…you.” The words are wrestled from your chest as Bucky starts pounding you from behind, hitting every pleasurable zone flawlessly. “Only you.”

“I know that, sweetheart,” he grunts. “But it’s the fact that he’s touched you before.”

Gripping the carpet the best you can, you aid his mission by moving along with him. Pushing yourself to him, arching your back. “It wasn’t…important!”

Bucky grinds against you, pushing you down by the back instead of your head now. It gives you a breather. “Did you let him fuck you?”

Twice. You were in high school. Sometimes boyfriends and girlfriends have sex. But as Bucky pounds into you, the sound of your mess so gloriously intoxicating, the memory is foggy. Unimportant. All you feel is Bucky.

“Just two times.”

Bucky’s hips halt, and a rough intake of air is all the evidence you receive that his jealousy is through the roof.

“Did you scream for him like you do for me?” He slides out slowly, leaving only the tip. You wiggle your ass in invitation, but Bucky simply smacks it. The sting makes you bear your face deeper into the pillow. “Did you squeeze this pussy on his cock like you do for me? Did you let him come inside of you?”

At that, you shake your head, probably rubbing some eyeliner off in the process. “No. No to all of it. I was…I was not how I am now.”

“Oh? And how are you now?” He slides in, then out, giving your ass another harsh smack.

You sob, your walls clenching around him. “I’m in love with you. I only let you love me. I only let you come inside me.”

Your voice is raspy, lungs strained from the amount of pressure being applied. Bucky seems to notice, so he hooks an arm underneath your chest, dragging you upward until your back smacks against his front.

“I love you so much,” he groans, kissing and licking at your shoulders and neck. “You know I’m yours, right? Say I’m yours.”

His hot breath coats the sweat on your skin. His voice sounds so desperate, so strained, so deserving of your declaration that you immediately gratify it. “You’re mine.”

He holds you to him, fucking you with such an intensity that you’re sure your words have just been carved into his heart.

“You’re mine, Bucky. All mine. You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.”

Planting his cheek over yours, his flesh fingers over your clit, it only takes a few more thrusts before you’re coming around him, and he deep inside of you. Painting you his, accepting your words as truth.

Languid, he guides you down onto the carpet, falling beside you. Breathing heavily, you turn to him and cup a hand over one of his cheeks. Simply looking at him, smiling.

His mouth twitches, and he reddens. “Was that a little too far?”

You shake your head, bringing your arm up so you can rest your cheek on it. “No. I like when you get jealous.”

He huffs a laugh. “It makes me feel hot and toxic at the same time.”

Giggling, you say, “It makes me feel wanted and degraded at the same time.”

He leans forward to kiss your forehead. Softly, he whispers, “And you’re mine.”

Your heart swells, and somewhere in this large universe of strings and lights, you know those shared declarations to be authentic.

Christmas Eve. A morning you’ve come to anticipate. A morning filled with low snores and a cold room, twisted bedsheets and snow. Last year, the kitchen downstairs smelled like cinnamon. You can’t smell anything quite yet, which was odd. Your dad usually started baking for the party around four. The answer is given as you crack one eye open, seeing that the sun hasn’t even risen yet. There’s a soft blue glow, but it’s still a little before dawn.

Stretching, you also realize that no one is lying beside you. Bucky must have snuck away after you fell asleep—which was the smart thing to do, considering Captain Rogers was snoring like a freight train on the floor.

Still, you didn’t have to wake up next to Bucky to enjoy Christmas Eve morning. It was a simple, tranquil scene in itself.

Your phone vibrates on the bedside table, waking you fully. The light blinds you as you pick it up and yank the charger out, pressing ‘answer’ without even seeing the caller name. Your voice is raspy, your throat sore. “Hello?”

“Bumblebee?”

You sit up quickly, confusion and worry flooding your veins. “Dad?”

“Are you home?”

“I am. So are Bucky and Steve. Why? Is everything okay?” It doesn’t matter what his answer is at this point—whether it’s negative or minimal—you’re already hopping out of bed in search of sweatpants.

“It burned down.”

Halting, frozen, you stare directly at the blue hues bursting through your curtains. “...The bar?”

Not the bar. Please, please, please. That was Kate’s prize possession. The one thing she owned fully at twenty-eight, her home.

Throwing a sweater over your shoulders, you fling a throw pillow at Steve. “Steve.”

He grumbles and turns over. His face scrunches as you turn on the bedside light. “Dad, keep talking to me. What happened?”

Now Steve lunges from his messy pile of blankets. He’s changing out of his sweatpants just as your dad replies, “The flower shop.”

You meet Steve’s eye, knowing damn well he heard the words. Steve bursts out of your room and downstairs, probably going to wake Bucky, Sam, and Peter. “Please tell me they weren’t inside. Because…because you know how sometimes Clint likes to sleep in his office? Wanda sometimes—some—sometimes works through the night making bouquets. Especially during this season.”

You’re sobbing, flying down the stairs and to the front door. Several voices call to you to stop, but you can’t. Not as your dad says, “I don’t know, Bumblebee. I was at Monica’s and Kate called me. She didn’t say anything else because she didn’t know anything else.”

The snow beneath your feet crunches and burns, and it’s then that you realize you disregarded shoes. And socks. With each step, the cold seeps into your sensitive feet, torching your feet like dry ice. Why does the cold burn so much?

They could have been in there. The shop is closer than Clint’s house and they were all drinking. They could have stopped there to rest until morning. And your dad didn’t say, The flower shop is on fire.

No. He said it burned down.

The same loud voices trail you from behind, sprinting after you. But you can’t stop. You need to know that your friends are okay. That their business can be salvaged. That their parent’s business can be salvaged. That no one was hurt. That Christmas Eve is just Christmas Eve.

It’s a five minute run, but you don’t feel it. Sure, your feet are now numb and your lungs ache, but you don’t feel tired. How could you be tired when—

Stopping abruptly, you try to blink away the onslaught of tears. Your lips catch them falling, the taste of salt overwhelming. Bucky runs into you from behind, holding you to his naked chest as he stares at the same thing you’re staring at.

The empty spot in between two charred buildings, the only missing center of the whole street. Nothing but black wood and curling smoke, firefighters and police.

To your right, you find your dad running toward you, Monica following with a hand covering her mouth.

And to your left, Clint and Wanda holding Pietro’s shoulders as he cries softly.

The Christmas lights that are strung from one building to another, crossing the street in a glorious zig-zag, flicker and turn off automatically, welcoming the morning sun and its natural shine.

TAGLIST: [on masterlist]

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #warmth of winter sequel #the warmth of the future #part two #captainsimagines #by Moni #holiday fanfic #dbf!bucky #dbf!buckybarnes #avengers au

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