#At this point Barnes just wants to give up

[highonmarvel]

Heyy love your work. I wanted to make a request for Bucky Barne was thinking something like reader goes to his house for Christmas but then he forcefully drugs her with a syringe and she's held captive. But he's overal nice enough. He'd let her kick or scream or fight back. But then one day he lets her out of the basement or wherever he keeps her and she tries to escape and succeeds to some degree He manages to catch her and he snaps, gets angry and punishes her and she's scared cuz he snapped.

Winter

i love this! i’m sorry this isn’t proofread—i’m late as is and needed to get this out into the world so at least some people can read this as they lie in bed and have it be relevant. also, i’m so sorry, i left out the syringe bit because i got too into the plot i conjured up with the food coma here, sorry, sweetheart, but please, send another request if you really want to see it get done. let me know your thoughts, also to my sister @thehydraethereal. with that out of the way:

Bucky Barnes: A Christmas dinner opens your eyes to a new type of Winter.

additional content warnings here!

CONTENT WARNING, PLEASE READ: This piece includes graphic depictions of torture. Seriously, this is really dark; do not proceed if you are not comfortable with explicit descriptions of physical violence. This is your warning. This is fucking dark. I can not stress this enough. I am fucked up.

It wasn’t that you were technically averse to relationships or had commitment issues, you just feel like at this point in your life a solid relationship wasn’t really going to work. You had been travelling to the other side of the country quite a bit to take care of your sister, but this Christmas, your parents went down, so you didn’t really have an excuse to bail when Bucky invited you to dinner.

You don’t think you’re technically dating him–you don’t ever recall you or him asking the other to be their partner–but you’ve at least been going out with him for a few months. Guess you’d have to face him at some point; it’s been nearly three weeks since he had suggested you live together, which had caught you completely off-guard. You had managed to side-step the conversation at the time before making up some bullshit excuse to leave, and you haven’t had the courage to face him since.

Pulling into Bucky’s driveway always makes you feel a little uneasy; he doesn’t live like a hermit or overly secluded, but for some reason the houses in this suburb seem just a little too far apart for comfort��no one really has ‘neighbours.’

The scent of a very well-cooked meal carries right up to the front door, making you take a deep whiff before knocking.

“Hi, honey,” Bucky answers the door, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“God, I’m practically drooling out here,” you say, and Bucky laughs as he steps out of the way and allows you in. “How long have you been standing?”

“Ah, a few hours,” he admits, sheepishly, watching you hang your coat up and rubbing the back of his neck when you raise your eyebrows at him.

“But it’s just the two of us, no?” you question as you lead him into the kitchen (maybe you being so casual in his home gave him the impression you’d like to move in with him).

“Yeah,” he replies, tailing you. “But I realised I don’t really know what you like and I panicked a bit.”

You giggle and that seems to ease his apparent embarrassment, allowing him to let out a breathless laugh as he moves into the kitchen, standing on the other side of the island as you settle on a stool.

“How have you been?” he inquires as he pours you a glass of wine, not making eye contact.

“Alright,” you reply, watching the red liquid slosh into the glass. “Glad to have some time off.”

“How’s your sister?”

You sigh and mouth a thank you to him as he slides the glass towards you. After a sip, you look up at him. “Better, I think, and she’s only allowed two visitors at a time–my parents really wanted to see her so I let them for Christmas, they don’t really get a chance otherwise.”

He hums in understanding as he puts on pink oven mitts and crouches down.

“Are you disappointed?” he asks loudly as he pulls a dish out of the oven.

You shrug. “I’d have liked to go, but I’m not all that sad about it. I don’t have much going for me in New York, so I was worried I’d be bored, but I’m having a good time.

“You just got here!” He laughs as he rises with a turkey.

“I know, but wine.” You raise your glass to him and peer into the ceramic dish. “Turkey?” you ask, which he responds to with a hum of affirmation.

“I don’t really like it, not sure if you do.”

“I like it. I would have thought you patriots like Thanksgiving stuff, though.”

You help him set up a few dishes across a small dining table and sit down.

“This was really sweet, Bucky.” You smile, tone sincere and nearly sappy as he cuts you a large leg of turkey. “Doesn’t this stuff make you sleepy?” you joke, and it takes him just a beat too long to chuckle.

“I think that’s a myth, actually,” he responds as he sits back down across from you.

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows as you dig your knife and fork into the leg. “I could have sworn...”

“Is it good?” he asks, watching you carefully, and with a kind of interest that makes you slightly uneasy, but you can’t deny it’s heavenly. You nod enthusiastically and point to the meat.

“God, this is great! You’d swear there was cocaine in here or something.”

Something lights in his eyes for a second, a spark you mistake for happiness. Bucky has always loved nothing more than to see you happy and relaxed: one of the reasons you were so drawn to him was his genuine desire to not only make you as happy as possible, but to appreciate that joy. Sometimes you got the impression making you happy pleased him almost as much as it pleased you, if not more. And it was times like these you felt bad you weren’t really able to make a commitment to him. He never seemed to mind it all too much, but you can tell it’s something he wants, and you almost feel like you’re taking advantage of his affection–but he knows, and you know, and if he isn’t happy with this arrangement, surely he’d say something.

But Bucky has to bite back the retort, “Well, not that drug.”

After a hearty meal you only put down when you feel you’re genuinely on the verge of passing out, you push away your plate. “Woo! I don’t know how I’m ever gonna work that off. I think I’ve gained, like, 10.”

“You're perfect the way you are,” Bucky says, leaning down to press his lips to your cheek as he clears the table.

You close your eyes and hum in delight, but you find it a little hard to open them again. When you manage to pry your eyes open again, it’s not much, still looking at the table through droopy lids. You stand and sway, rattling your chair as you grapple the table for support.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks as he reappears in your line of sight, brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah,” you respond, squeezing your eyes shut and ripping them open again. “But I really should get going.”

“Get going?” he repeats, moving to your side for support as you stumble forward. “I don’t think you should drive right now.”

But you dismiss him with a wave of your hand, pushing off of him to stand up straight. You think you say, “I’m fine. I’ll call you.” but you can’t really make out the words through the slight slurring.

“Lie down,” he offers gently, taking a step towards his bedroom.

“No…” you tear your arm free of his grasp. You had spent the night with him before, but for a reason you can’t figure out, this time, something is screaming at you to decline.

“Really, darling, you need to,” he insists, his voice having dropped to a low murmur. He takes a step forward and you instinctively take a step back, feeling a little guilty when he stops dead in his tracks and something like hurt flashes across his features. You know something that makes Bucky wince is when he feels someone is afraid of him, and you can only imagine how he must feel now if you’re the one displaying apprehension.

You shake your head and turn away from him to the doorway.

“Hey...” You startle as you feel his grip on your forearm, gentle, but firm. “You’re not leaving.” The words are said in a sincerely concerned way, but the fact the statement came off as more of a command than a suggestion really triggers something in you.

“Bucky...” you groan as you uselessly try to pull away, feeling weaker than you otherwise would, even against him.

He doesn’t have to give too sharp of a tug to make you stumble into his arms, his hold on you steady, and, at any other time, safe, but now it feels more certain, somehow, almost possessive. You try to protest but you’re practically babbling incoherently under him, head lolled to the side as he adjusts his grip from under your arms to pick you up bridal style.

“Just lie down for a second...”

And you’re too out of it to notice he’s passed his bedroom door.

***

It’s difficult to open your eyes again, your lashes stuck together as you turn your head over. When vision slowly comes back to you, you’re met with a midcentury wooden bedside table you don’t recognise. You prop yourself up on your forearm and squint into the room, looking for any signs of familiarity, and the only thing you recognise is the thing you dread.

“What…” you begin to mutter, and Bucky looks up from the book he’s reading with a smile.

“You’re up.” He stands from the chair positioned by ‘your’ (this isn’t your bed) beside and moves to sit on the edge, placing a hand to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

You weakly slap his hand away as you start to really wake up and realise what’s going on.

“I’m not… this isn’t… what…” you can’t really find the words to ask the questions you need answers to.

“It’s your Christmas present!” he says with a grin, standing to make a grand gesture with his arms, out to the room. I’ve got your favourite books here, I remember you telling me you used to want a four poster princess bed.” He points to the ceiling and sure enough, pretty curtains hang over your head. “But if you don’t like it I can change it.” He shrugs and stands somewhat nervously as he waits for you to react.

“What… the fuck.”

He tsks and swings his arms back and forth, rocking on his heels.

“I set it up for you a few weeks ago, I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable sleeping with me every night, I know you like your space.”

“Are you out of your mind!?” You throw the sheets off of you and manage to stand, even though your head feels a little heavy.

He sighs and steps forward. “I know it feels like–”

“Oh, you know what it feels like? You know what it feels like to be ostensibly kidnapped by your boyfriend?”

He blushes. “So I am your boyfriend.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You throw a pillow at him (ineffective but it was the nearest thing) which he catches with ease and turns over to reveal an embroidered flower. “I made this,” he says, proudly.

“What the fuck!?” you shriek as you throw another pillow at him, this one he dodges easily.

You’ve never seen him like this, nearly giddy and, in this context, borderline delusional. It makes you grip onto your hair and bunch your fingers into the locks. “Oh, my god, you’re insane!”

“I’m not the one yelling and throwing things,” he mutters, and your eyes snap up to his.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you begin, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry I don’t react well to crimes committed against me.”

“You came into my house.”

“Yes, but I didn’t come into this room! Do you really expect me to believe I can just leave anytime? That that door isn’t locked. You think I’m fucking stupid?”

He gently tosses the pillow back onto the bed and winces. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“Bucky,” you begin, carefully, voice dangerously low as you step up to him. “I don’t know what in god’s name has gotten into you, but I’m not having it. I’m leaving.”

“Sweetheart, you really don’t intimidate me.” And the way he says it with such sincere pity makes you shove at his chest. He doesn’t stumble, but he takes a step back for your benefit.

You match his step and poke your finger in his chest, glaring up at him with more fury than you thought you had and trying your hardest not to wrap your hand around his throat. What really pisses you off is his patronising speech; you can tell he genuinely thinks he’s doing good, and that he honestly feels bad that you can’t appreciate it, that you’re weaker than him, and it boils your blood. Apathy or even mockery would be better than this condescending way he’s deluded himself into believing this is for your benefit.

“Don’t call me sweetheart, you piece of shit. If that door is locked, you’re gonna unlock it, and you’re going to leave me the fuck alone.” You practically spit the words at him through gritted teeth, seething to the point you can feel heat radiating from your body and wouldn’t be surprised if there was literal steam coming out of your ears.

“Sit down, angel.”

“Talk to me like that again and there will be nothing angelic about what I do to you.”

“Your mother called.”

That gets your attention and your anger dissipates for a moment. “Really? What did she say?”

When he guides you to sit down, you’re not really in the space to fight him off, waiting to hear any news from your family.

“They’re coming down in a few days, for New Year’s, and, they’re bringing your sister–they say she’s stable enough for travel.”

You feel your eyes begin to water at the thought of your sister being that strong, of being able to talk to her like you used to, before she got sick. But you snap out of it, and that swelling in your heart turns to something close to anxiety, but closer to suspicion. “Why are you telling me this?”

He scoffs as if you’re asking him if the sky is blue. “Because I know you want to see them. I told them they could stay with us for a few days.”

“With us?”

He just blinks. “Yes, with us.”

“You must be out of your fucking mind if you think…” And the next few hours are spent with you screaming in his face, swinging punches which he easily dodges, but sometimes he humours you and allows you a hit–not like it hurts anyway. His calm demeanour and ‘care’ makes you infuriated beyond belief, and by the end of the night the room has been trashed, there are scratches on the door from your desperate clawing and pounding, your voice is hoarse from all the yelling, and you’re exhausted while Bucky is no more beaten than when you first woke up.

Eventually, you’ve physically exhausted yourself so much you can’t even push him away when he climbs into bed next to you and holds you in his arms, placing your head against his chest and caressing your hair, which he knows always relaxes you and helps you fall asleep.

***

You only know it’s morning when you wake up because Bucky greets you with it, but it doesn’t take long for your attention to fall to the walls, noticing there aren’t any windows.

“We’re in the basement, you know.” Bucky comments, watching your eyes dart around the room and catching on to what you’re doing. “I don’t have a spare room, you know that.”

You’re nearly tired of glaring daggers at him seeing as he doesn’t really feel it–if anything, it seems to spur him on, like he doesn’t really care what you do as long as he gets some kind of reaction out of you. If you remained as stoic as he did, maybe that would give him pause for thought, but you really can’t resist the urge to attack him, and he somehow sees it as endearing, like any attention you give him makes his heart swell.

Initially, you refuse his invitation for breakfast upstairs, but when that morning grumpiness subsides, you let your stubbornness fall away in favour of opportunity. This really solidifies in your mind Bucky is so convinced you’ll stay that he doesn’t really worry about turning his back on you as he flips an egg.

“Where’re you going?”

You stop dead in your tracks, shocked he had heard you get up when you were practically sneaking like a cartoonish villain.

“To the bathroom,” you lie, to which he responds with a simple, “Okay.”

It’s too easy, but you’d rather take your chances than wonder if this is some kind of setup. You have to get out of here as soon as possible, so you don’t have time to look for your car keys, but you hesitate at the door. It’s beginning to snow, and you’re not dressed anywhere near enough to make it to a neighbour–the only thing that had kept you warm before coming up to see him was that nice coat, but it’s not on the rack anymore.

There’re only a few locks you have to turn to quietly open the door, your teeth chattering as a cold breeze hits you so hard it’s painful, like your skin is literally freezing onto your bones. You’re barefoot, no less. You can’t kid yourself into thinking you won’t lose a toe or some extremities in the process, but you can not stay. It really has only been one night, but something you’ve never liked in your life is being trapped, makes your skin crawl to the point you’d rather shed it than be deprived of freedom, especially when you’ve got the chance to see your family soon. And besides, it’s really not that long of a walk to the next house, you won’t die out there, but you can only vaguely make it out through the snow, and if you scream, it’ll surely be drowned by the harsh winds. With one last glance behind you, you step into the snow, and instantly regret it, your feet set close to frozen in just a few seconds, and goosebumps rising so quickly across your skin it feels like you’ve suddenly broken out in hives. And just as you consider turning back, you’re shoved forward, and you shriek as you land face first in the snow, afraid of crying at the impact lest your tears turn to ice right on your cheeks.

You’re gripped by the arm and pulled upright, before being again pushed further away from the house you can feel radiating warmth just through the open door. You gasp for air as you manage to bring yourself to your hands and knees, fingers curling into the snow and slowly becoming numb. A harsh gust blows, nearly knocking you off balance, and you squint to look up at the door, Bucky standing before you in little more than a long-sleeved t-shirt (he’s more underdressed than you) and sweatpants, hair still a little messy with sleep, but the look in his eyes, it’s a look you’ve never been on the receiving end of–in fact, you’ve never even seen it, but you can recognise it immediately.

“You forget I’m the Winter Soldier.” You’re not sure how his deep growl manages to carry across the howling of the winds, but you don’t have time to figure it out before a metal hand grips a fistful of your hair and you’re dragged through the snow, instinctively trying to plant your feet in the ground to stop him but even if you could match his strength, the cold is unbearable, and your legs are starting to feel numb, yet still stiff.

You don’t have time to be grateful that you’ve been thrown back into warmth as you slide across the floor and Bucky kicks the door shut behind him. From a hallway table, he pulls out a wrench, and you struggle to get your arms and legs to move away from him as he approaches you, menacingly.

You don’t know how such slow and heavy footsteps manage to catch up to you so quickly, but soon he’s got his boot pressing down on your ankle, preventing you from doing more than thrashing around. He leans down and grips your face roughly, forcibly pulling you up to meet him, and his eyes are so void of emotion he nearly looks dead. He doesn’t look angry, he looks like he just can’t feel.

“I do all this for you, and you can’t even offer me a pretty little smile.” His large fingers reach into your mouth, pulling your lips and teeth apart wide, wide enough for him to shove the wrench into your mouth and attach it to one of your teeth. “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Maybe you’ll appreciate it more if it just wasn’t the same.” You feel your gum twist and let out a cry, gurgling through your throat. Your frail fingers grasp onto his wrist as you desperately try to shake your head, but his strong hold prevents you from it. He twists a little more and you squeeze your eyes shut, holding your breath, before he eventually pulls out and you gasp for dear life, tears stinging your vision.

He roughly tugs you up and practically throws you into a nearby chair, before taking your hand with surprising gentleness, caressing your hurting fingers with the back of his for a moment before adjusting his grip to bring the wrench back forward.

“Now this is no good…” he remarks, moving his head to see more of your frostbitten marks you’re sure will leave scars. “You know what happens to these?” The wrench attacks itself to your index finger and Bucky adjusts its width so it’s threatening to chop your finger right off.

You scream at him to let go, kicking at his legs gets no reaction out of him, but don’t dare to move the hand he’s still holding.

“What if I just…” He twists only slightly and your skin breaks, blood seeping down from your frayed skin and dripping onto your thigh.

Just as you’re about to let out an unstoppable shriek of pain, Bucky’s metal hand presses to your mouth, stopping the sound going any further than echoing off his palm for only you to hear again. He twists more and you move your wrist with it, trying anything to stop him from twisting your finger off. He notices this and removes his other hand from your mouth to hold your wrist firmly in place.

“Bucky, please–”

“Shut up!” he shouts, his hold on you tightening even further. He lowers his face to yours with wide eyes, jaw clenched impossibly tight, and speaks in a dangerously low register, his voice trembling with fury as he tries to hold it together, at least in demeanour if not in action. “You really fucked up, and if you don’t have any fingers, you won’t be able to open my door ever again.”

✪

[my beloved taglist: @cowboysnbugs, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10, @mybabygirllove]

[talleryn]

Barnes: sit in the chair. I need to ask you some questions

Lockwood: George, deny everything

George: this isn’t a chair.

[platossoulmates]

my favorite thing about advanced gay is jeff’s reaction to pierce’s switch up on gay people like how are you to tell me that is not EXACTLY how a closeted person who knows they’re closeted (im looking at you troy barnes) would react in that situation. everyone else just thinks it’s a little silly and fun to be momentarily involved in gay culture but he is offended because he gets it 😭 there is literally no way to watch advanced gay and not come out of it knowing that is the most bisexual character ever presented on television

[navybrat817]

Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

���Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 

Barely an hour passed before you woke. 

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–,��uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 

“To what, huh?” 

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 

“I want you to fuck me, please!” 

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[inkedbybarnes]

unclear

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.

i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?”

wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.

although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.

"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"

"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.

"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."

you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.

but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.

"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"

wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.

the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.

although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.

after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.

considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.

he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.

"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.

"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"

you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.

your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.

"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"

"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"

before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."

and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."

you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.

you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.

it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.

"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"

"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."

"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"

friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.

your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.

with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.

your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.

"ah, fuck."

you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.

"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"

you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"

your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.

"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"

"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"

"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."

"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."

"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."

"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."

oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.

"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."

you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.

"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."

"bucky..."

"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."

"even if i ask for your arm?"

he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"

"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.

"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."

his girl. you loved hearing that.

"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.

"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"

"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."

"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."

"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.

"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"

you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"

he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."

your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.

"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."

bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"

you smiled. "like the old times."

in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.

"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.

"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."

"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.

"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."

bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.

and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.

a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[ultralightpoe]

JUNO - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!

Word Count: 4215

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]

Enjoy!

“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing

Oh yeah, you just get it

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit

God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”

-

You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain. 

There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person. 

Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?

But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. 

Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare. 

From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said. 

As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’.  But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink. 

Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention.  Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat. 

This could be fun. 

“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it. 

“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”

“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh. 

“Would it be worth my time?”

“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”

But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?

But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic. 

“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”

-

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”

-

That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin. 

“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”

The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”

“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?” 

As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost. 

“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”

He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door. 

You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you. 

You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.” 

“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.” 

Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress. 

“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”

“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”

“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath. 

Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms. 

He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining. 

“What will you give me?”

“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”

“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”

“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

-

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

-

And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him. 

You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence. 

When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark. 

He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster. 

So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”

-

It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about. 

Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill. 

But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?

And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person. 

“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors. 

-

“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)

Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)

Can't help myself, hormonеs are high

Give me more than just some butterflies”

-

“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”

“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan. 

Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn. 

The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back. 

“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”

“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off. 

He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”

And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to. 

And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap. 

“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm. 

“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home. 

-

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out some freaky positions?

Have you ever tried this one?”

-

The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check. 

You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement. 

“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.

“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you. 

“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”

He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.” 

“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”

-

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

-

His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt. 

You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center. 

He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own. 

With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair. 

It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan. 

And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him. 

Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up. 

You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”

“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

-

He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze. 

You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”

“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point 

“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”

And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them. 

“You ready doll?”

“Always for you sergeant.”

-

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me

Mark your territory (Ah-ah)

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”

-

He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time. 

His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back. 

It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure. 

And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off. 

-

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)

I'm so fuckin' horny

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”

-

His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild. 

Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump. 

Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher. 

By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets. 

-

“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might (Might)”

-

You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was  empty. 

So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs. 

You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin. 

By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you. 

“Goodnight.” You whisper. 

“Goodnight, Doll.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

-

The waiting was the most dreadful feeling. 

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door. 

It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look. 

“Is it…”

“I….”

And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.

-

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Don’t Mess with My Girl

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You come home from work and you make the mistake of telling Bucky that a guy has been harassing you at work.

Warning: harassment from a male coworker

A/N: the snippets of Bucky in the Thunderbolts trailer have ignited my love for him again omfg.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky's already home when you arrive from work. You let out an exhausted sigh as you place your things on the kitchen island and kiss Bucky's cheek, "Hi, lovey."

He hums and looks at your slumped figure, "What's wrong?" he asks with furrowed brows, concern written all over his face.

"Just a rough day at work," you reply, opening up the dishwasher to grab a cup and snort as you see Bucky's metal prosthetic resting inside.

You turn back to him, "Explain," you say pointing at his arm.

He gives a sheepish grin and shrugs, "Today was a bit messy, is all." You chuckle and roll your eyes. You grab a cup from the top rack of the dishwasher and grab Bucky's arm, laying it on the counter.

"What happened today?" you ask as you fill your cup with water from the fridge.

Bucky shakes his head, "Nope. I asked you a question first," he walks over to you and cups your face with his right hand, "What's made my girl all upset?"

You groan, "A new hire, Noah. He's very...persistent."

"Persistent how?"

You shrug, "He just keeps asking me out, getting a little too close-"

"Fire him," Bucky immediately says.

You groan, "But he's a good employee!"

"Doesn't matter if he keeps harassing you."

"I wouldn't say he's harassing me..."

Bucky cocks a brow and places his hand on his hip in a very intimidating manner, "Does he get aggressive when you reject him?"

"...yes."

"Is he constantly berating you and not taking no for an answer?"

"...yeah."

"Does he scare you?"

"A little bit."

"Baby, that's harassment," he says as he walks over to his metal arm, placing it onto the notch and locking it in. He looks down and flexes his arm, "I can take care of him for you, easily. The fellas and I can grab him and-"

You immediately wave your hands and shake your head, "No, no, no. No! Don't hurt him! I'll-I'll handle it. I'll talk to Joan and let her know what's been going on."

"Good and if that doesn't stop him then, I'll pay him a visit," you give him a playful shove and he chuckles, "What? No one messes with my girl and gets away with it!"

____________________________

As soon as you got into the bookshop the next day, you immediately tell Joan of Noah's behavior. When he comes in, Joan pulled him aside to talk to him. You thought that everything would be good after that...but you were wrong.

When you were in the back, putting books away, Noah corners you, "Did you really have to tell Joan our business?"

You can't help but scoff at his audacity, "Well you wouldn't stop asking me out after I said no and reminding you that I have a boyfriend."

It's Noah's turn to scoff, "Oh yeah, your boyfriend," he says with air quotes, "You say you have one but you don't have him as your lockscreen and you haven't showed any pictures of him."

"He's a private person, but that's not the point! I told you 'no'! You should've stopped after that."

Noah rolls his eyes, "Oh just because someone says 'no', doesn't mean they mean it! Means they want you to try harder."

"Actually, it just means 'no' and you fuck off," a deep voice cuts in-between the confrontation between you and Noah.

Both of you turn to see Bucky standing there with a hard glare on his face.

You gulp, "Bucky, what're you doing here?"

He holds up your lunch bag, "You forgot your lunch at home," he holds it out and you rush over to him, grabbing the bag and remaining at his side.

Noah looks at Bucky with wide eyes and then at you. His face loses color as he realizes, "W-Wait, you-you're dating the White Wolf of Brooklyn?"

Bucky smirks at his nickname, "Yeah, she is. And my girl told me you wouldn't leave her alone. Sounds like even with your job on the line, you still don't seem to get the hint." He slips off his blazer, handing it off to Steve. He then starts rolling up the sleeve of his metal arm, the dim lighting of the book shop reflecting off its metal plates.

"I can definitely figure out a way to get the message through to you."

Noah stutters out a response, "N-No. Th-That's not necessary, s-sir. I-I won't bother, Y/N again, I promise."

Bucky hums, "If I see or hear you harassing my girl or anyone else, I'll make sure your body will never be found again. Scum like you don't deserve second chances, but I'm feeling a little gracious today."

Noah nods, "Thank you. I-I won't behave like that ever again."

"Good. Now apologize to Y/N," he nods to you.

Noah gulps and stutters out an apology. You simply reply with a nod and Noah scurries away.

You let out a deep breath that you didn't know you were holding. You look at Bucky, "Thanks."

He shrugs, "Anyone gives you a problem, they have to go through me," he mumbles pecking your lips.

"Y/N, do you know why Noah suddenly qui-ah," Joan turns the corner to see you and Bucky. The older woman puts her hands on her hips and gives Bucky a scolding look, "Barnes, what did you do?"

Bucky shrugs, "Just gave him a warning, ma'am. He shouldn't have been treatin' my girl like that!"

"Very true, but you know I don't condone violence in my shop."

He holds his hands up, "No violence happened, ma'am. Just a little threatenin'." Joan looks to you for confirmation and you nod.

She sighs, "Very well. Guess I need to look for another employee again."

An idea came to mind, "Actually, I know someone!"

______________

"Seriously, Y/N, I owe you one for this!" the young brunette exclaims as he follows you with a box of books in his arms.

You chuckle, "It's no problem, Peter. Besides, we both get something out of this. You're doing a much safer job like your Aunt May and Tony wanted and you get to keep an eye on me for Bucky. It's a win-win situation."

The bell above the shop's door rings and Peter immediately places the box of books down, "I got it!" he rushes to the front, "Hi, welcome to-oh! Y/N!" Peter's voice echoes through the store.

You shelf a book and head to the front, "Yeah?" you break out into a smile as you see Bucky there.

"Hey!" you approach him, giving a little wave to Steve, who stands behind him. Steve waves back, but says nothing else. You wrap your arms around Bucky and peck his lips, "What's up?"

"Had a meeting at Wanda's shop, brought some pastries for you, Joan, and the kid," he hands over the maroon pastry box with Wanda's logo on it.

"Yay! Here, Peter," you hand it off to the young man and he jaw drops, "Oh, sweet! Thanks, Mr. Barnes!" and he heads into the back to share the pastries with Joan.

Bucky places his hands on your waist, "How's he doin'?"

You chuckle, "Fine. He's very enthusiastic and a hard worker. Plus, he doesn't hit on me because he's in love with MJ."

Bucky's brows shoot up in surprise, "Jones' kid? Pft. Good luck, Parker."

You giggle and then back away, "Alright, big mob boss, I need to get back to work."

"Fine. But seriously though, you feel better? Safer?"

You nod, "I do. Thank you," you kiss his cheek and he softens, "Like I said, no one messes with my girl," he gives you a wink and wave as he exits the book shop.

[viridescentelf]

Yandere elf x reader - Love Making

Character and Art belongs to @meo-eiru! Go follow her and love her 🫶(pushes all of you to her blog)

I am out of ideas, y‘all. I am so happy you guys love my dumb smut lol 🩷 really thank you! Idk if I‘ll do any more, unless specifically asked. Also, if meru is ok with it ✨

Warning: 18+ content, drugging, general nsfw, oral !

—————

He smothered you with his length.

You got brief respite when he exited, gasping in short bursts.

Silas was caressing your face with both of his hands, holding you in place. His soft thumb pressed lightly into your cheek.

„Good, good~“, he cooed breathily.

In his mind, he was just giving you your nourishment. He didn‘t fully understand why the milking made him feel so lightheaded, why he longed to do it over and over again. But mothers wrote in the baby books that it is a precious bonding ritual, one they never experienced before.

And surely, this was a feeling he hadn‘t experienced before.

Silas let his darling suck his teats every day, but because he was an elf, his milk was stored elsewhere. Of course!

He had a collection of instructional manuals he had consulted (Romance Novels) and they referred to this act as „love making“. What a beautiful term! Silas felt giddy whenever he thought about it. That‘s definitely what the situation in the spring was, too - it all makes sense now!

Letting out a few breathy moans, he felt you lick his tip, as he thrust gently forward. He had prepared you again, giving you long and deep kisses to fully drench you with his aphrodisiac tongue. It was impossible to stop yourself. The way his kisses made you forget yourself, wanting him. You knew now how hard you could come with him just in you. It was annoying to admit, but you wanted more.

You looked up at him and a flush of purple filled his ethereal face.

„K-keep drinking, my precious…“, he huffed. He was holding himself, pointing it at your open lips.

You let your tongue fall out. You could see him gasp inaudibly from arousal at the sight of you. It was kind of fun to tease him. He looked beside himself, whenever he was close.

Your tongue brushed his tip again and he shivered. He was gently holding the back of your head, his fingers laced within your messed up hair. You could feel him push you forward softly.

Without warning you swallowed him as much as you could. Silas yelped at the feeling of you jerking your head forward vigorously. The sounds he made were so pitiful. You couldn’t get that much of him in your throat, but the mere velocity and sudden depth made the elf convulse and shake uncontrollably. He was trying to hold back, but it was futile.

He exploded with a guttural squeal. You felt his seed plummet into your throat and you quickly released your mouth to avoid choking. More overflowed onto your face, the most of it was dripping out of the sides of your mouth though. You swallowed harshly at the load.

Silas was immobile, his arms twitching by his massive side. He didn‘t speak for a while either, so you just sat there in silence with faint sounds of dripping.

Finally, Silas sat up with a flushed face. Dried tears stained his cheeks as his lip quivered.

„Darling… y-you were hungry, weren‘t you?“ he was trying to talk in his melodic voice, but you had taken his ability to be graceful.

You brushed some semen off your chin and stared at him.

„Oh, let me!“, he grabbed a beautiful doily he had been embroidering with donkeys and cows on it. He read babies like barn animals.

He wiped your face clean.

„There! All clean,“ he beamed down at you. Still feeling a bit sticky, you asked if you could go wash your face. He clapped his hands frantically, proud of you, for whatever reason.

Silas‘s semen didn‘t smell like normal cum. It had a strange, soothing scent to it. You stood over the basin and sniffed your hand a few times. What was in his damn bloodstream that made everything about him smell so fucking divine?

In the background, you heard Silas practice some lullaby, poorly.

Evidently, it was time for bed.

[appocalipse]

the same thing ・❥・b. barnes

summary: during a mission, you put yourself in harm's way to protect bucky. back at the avengers compound, he wants to know why. | 1.4k words, angst with a happy ending

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"You should be resting."

You don't turn your head as the familiar voice comes from behind you, too focused on the delicate art of making the perfect sandwich to look away. You are a woman on a mission. "I was hungry."

A few seconds later, he's standing next to you, leaning back against the countertop with arms folded across his broad chest. "It's been less than twelve hours since they patched you up."

He's not going to stop hovering, you realize, because that's what Bucky does when he's worried.

"Want half?" Maybe you can distract him with food.

He regards the towering monstrosity on the cutting board and the chaotic layers of meat, cheese, and veggies sticking out at all angles.

You can't help but grin as you slap another slice of bread on top. "A quarter, then?"

Bucky has the audacity to look offended. "I'm not eating that thing."

You cradle the plate in your left hand, holding the sandwich with your right, and give him a pointed look. "Your loss."

Bucky just watches, arms still crossed, as you take a huge bite. His blue eyes remain narrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He's like a one-man intervention waiting to happen. You shrug and wander over to the kitchen table.

Sitting down is a bit of an effort. The wound on your side pulls as you slowly lower yourself onto the chair, but if you can keep from grimacing too hard, Bucky won't be able to tell, will he?

Your smile probably gives you away. He narrows his eyes further. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I'm hungry?"

"No." Bucky takes a step forward. "I meant why did you get between me and that shot?"

Good question. The answer is embarrassing and you'd sooner walk barefoot over hot coals than tell him the truth.

"Hm?"

Another step. "I have superhuman healing powers."

"I'll live."

"It was stupid."

"You're ruining my—ow," you mutter, dropping the sandwich as you instinctively put your hand over your bandage. There goes the carefully maintained poker face. You force yourself to remove your hand and look up at Bucky with what you hope is an innocent expression, even as your side throbs in protest. "My sandwich. You're ruining my sandwich. Are you sure you don't want a bite?"

Bucky is too smart to take the bait. He moves around the table, coming to stand in front of you. The whole 'arms-crossed-stern-glare' thing again. It would be intimidating if you didn't know him so well.

"You could've been killed," he's like a dog with a bone, you swear.

"But I wasn't," you say pointedly. "I'm fine."

"Fine? You were shot."

"Will you just let it go? It doesn't even...hurt...that much," you lie.

It will take a while for the super-soldier serum in your blood — a weaker variation of the same stuff that runs through Bucky's veins — to kick in and accelerate your healing.

Bucky exhales. He looks about ready to give you an earful, but then his gaze shifts and he notices the way you're holding your side, how stiffly you're sitting.

You move your traitorous hand away like you've been burned.

"How bad is it?"

"Huh?" you say in a deliberately casual tone. "It's...totally fine. Not bad, really. Don't worry. I don't even feel it."

There's the reason why you've never been a spy. You can't lie to save your life, apparently.

Or maybe just not to Bucky.

"Okay. It hurts, like, just a little bit...like—like not even hurts hurts, just..." you trail off with a grimace as he comes closer. "More of an itch?"

"An itch?" Bucky sounds dubious.

"More of a burn," you concede. "A...mildly annoying but totally manageable sort of a burn."

"You are a terrible liar."

"Okay, so it hurts," you snap, the last vestiges of your patience vanishing. "I have an extensive hole in my side, I get it. It's not—I don't want you to feel bad about it. It's really not terrible, I can take it."

Bucky shakes his head. "What if it had been worse? What if they'd shot you somewhere vital?"

"They didn't."

"But what if they had?"

"Then I would have died!"

Bucky looks at you like you just kicked him. "Yeah. That's what I'm trying to say."

You open your mouth, then close it.

"You think I want that?" he asks softly.

"No." You suddenly feel very small. "Of course not, I just...just..."

"Just what?"

"I don't know," you admit with a sigh. "It's just that you are...people need you, you know? And you have a life, people who care about you, but I'm just..."

A nobody. A girl with no past, who can barely make sense of her present.

"...it would be better if it was me. That's all."

"It would never be better if you were hurt."

"Bucky—"

"You don't get it, do you?" he asks in a low voice. "People need you too."

You roll your eyes. "Please. You mean the team?"

"Me," Bucky says pointedly. "You think it's easy for me? When you get hurt? It kills me."

The sandwich lays forgotten on the table, squashed flat under your clasped hands. "It...kills you?"

He just looks at you for a long moment.

Your heart flutters in your chest. You have a sudden, intense urge to break the silence with a terrible joke, a quip, something light and witty to dispel the heaviness in the air and make this moment go away. But before you can open your mouth, Bucky shakes his head.

"You kill me."

Okay, that's not where you thought this was going. "What?"

"When you say stuff like that. When you make it sound like you don't matter, like it's okay for you to get hurt. Or worse. It's not."

Oh.

"Bucky," you try again, with a more serious tone. "I don't—"

"Stop saying that," he cuts you off.

You realize your mouth is still hanging open and snap it shut.

"You want to know what I think?" Bucky is so close now you could reach out and touch him, if you were brave enough. "I think that you got this...thing in your head, that you're not good enough, or strong enough, or that you're broken somehow. I think that you forget that it's okay to want things. I think that maybe you think nobody needs you. That no one wants you."

You swallow. You're afraid to say anything, to move, because your heart is hammering against your ribs and Bucky is looking at you like he can see straight into your soul.

"But I do."

"Do...what?" you whisper.

"Want you."

It's the last thing you expect to hear. "Bucky, you don't mean that."

His voice drops an octave. "Don't tell me what I mean."

Your cheeks are burning. You feel pinned under his gaze. Your side is throbbing again and you have a mouthful of butterflies and it's all just too much.

You move to get up but only make it halfway before the wound pulls again and you wince. "Shit."

"Where do you think you're going?" Bucky reaches out to help you, one hand braced against your shoulder as you sink back down into the chair. His expression has softened. "You need to rest."

You really want to kiss him right now.

It's the closest he's ever been to you, perhaps. You can feel his breath on your face.

"I need to...? You really confuse me, Barnes."

"How so?"

"Well, first you tell me that I kill you, and then you say you want me. It's kind of a mixed message—"

"I'm not interested in being just friends with you," Bucky cuts you off abruptly. "Is that clear enough?"

Your lips part but nothing comes out. There's a warm, tingling sensation in your chest and you suddenly can't breathe properly. "That's—you—"

Bucky smirks, just a little. He looks almost...proud of himself? Like he's happy he's rendered you speechless for once.

You decide to take a page from his book and put him on the spot. "And what do you think I want?"

"I don't know," he murmurs, leaning even closer. "But I hope it's the same thing."

His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle. He pulls away and you want to chase after him but then he's back again and kissing you harder this time, all teeth and tongue and ragged breathing and heat.

You close your eyes. Your head is spinning and you can't get enough air but you're kissing him back now, both hands coming up to fist in his shirt, holding on for dear life.

His mouth trails down your neck, leaving hot kisses along your jawline. You let out a breathy sigh.

"Is that...supposed to help me heal faster, mhm?"

Bucky just smiles against your skin.

[buckets-and-trees]

Mob Bucky respects your own financial independence, but he also made sure you have access to his black card and use it when you need it. He doesn't care what you spend the money on, especially since the notification he gets those very rare times that you use his money is to buy something most practical or for your shared apartment.

However, he does not expect to see a notification for the purchase of some sex toys 😏

CHOCOLATE

Collection: DEVOUR Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!James Buchanan Barnes x Female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Timeline: Takes place 1-2 weeks after mint, 2-3 weeks after heat.

Content & Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT - vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie, food play, breeding kink. Feelings, so many feelings.

Author Notes: Surprise! At some points during the 2200 Followers Celebration poll, Devour Bucky and Chef were actually winning, so here's something I started months and months ago and brought out to finish for them. It's not quite everything from your ask, Eva, but I hope it's a satisfying scenario all the same...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You had known the exact moment your fiancé – mob boss, venture capitalist, or philanthropist depending on who you asked and what they knew – got the notification of your purchase.

James Buchanan Barnes had given you a black card weeks ago, before the engagement, but you hadn’t used it until this week. Bucky had gone to Chicago for business (and you were sure he was there for business as well), and instead of staying home and pining away for him, you decided to treat yourself. The notification must have pinged his phone during a meeting, because exactly 47 minutes later, your own phone lit up with his name.

"What's this Cartier expense I see?" his voice a dangerous mix of amusement and curiosity.

You swallowed hard, fingering the velvet box in your lap. "Just a little shopping therapy while you're away. Nothing to worry about."

"Mmm," he hummed, unconvinced. "And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to shower you with gifts."

"Well," you said, "maybe I wanted to surprise you for once."

There was a pause, and you could almost see him leaning back in his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "I suppose I am a little surprised you finally used the card. But how about a challenge?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you see if you can shock me with a purchase?”

“Challenge accepted. What do I get?”

He chuckled. “You already know I’ll give you the world.”

Butterflies surged in your stomach. This man.

“You’re back Saturday afternoon?” you confirmed.

“Yes,” he growled. “There’s a round of golf I can’t seem to move or negotiate.”

You sighed softly. “It’s only three more days.”

“I like that you miss me.”

You huffed but couldn’t deny it.

“I’m missing you, too,” he said.

“James…” you breathed.

“Did you get the gift I sent?”

“I did.” A stunning, six-foot mirror with an ornate, gold-gilded frame had been delivered that morning to your apartment and placed in your bedroom.

“I was taken with how beautiful it was and you were my first thought.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

When you woke up Friday morning, you knew exactly how to shock him with the black card.

Or at least tease him.

The high-end, ridiculously expensive lingerie boutique you never thought you would enter in your lifetime - Boudoir.

The response to that expense notification was immediate, and you smirked when you read the text that came through.

JAMES: You have my interest piqued.

You thought for a moment, then typed out a reply.

YOU: Thought maybe I’d see if I can shock you and send some photos of what I got later tonight.

Three dots appeared straight away, and then

JAMES: Forget photos, I’ll fly out tonight straight away after my meeting with Levinson and come straight to you.

Your breath caught in your throat, heart swelling with adoration, anticipation, and maybe just a touch of nerves. You looked up the latest flights out of Chicago, and couldn’t help feeling a little forlorn. Even though the restaurant head chef life meant late nights for work, it would still be an ungodly hour when he landed.

YOU: I’ll try to stay up, but promise to wake me up if I’m asleep?

Again, you didn't have to wait long for his reply.

JAMES: I promise. Nothing could keep me from you tonight.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You glanced at the clock - it was barely noon. The hours until his arrival stretched before you, filled with anticipation and nervous energy. You busied yourself with things before work, trying to focus on anything other than the ticking clock and the bag from Boudoir sitting in your closet.

At Devour your mind was engaged fully in your craft and working with your team.

But once you returned home after the Friday night dinner service, you found yourself pacing the apartment, unable to settle. Should you put on the lingerie now? Wait until you heard from him? You compromised by showering and doing your hair and makeup, then slipping into a silky robe.

Just as you were debating whether to pour yourself a glass of wine to calm your nerves, your phone pinged.

JAMES: Landed. On my way to you.

Far earlier than you expected him, but a good thing, too.

Your heart raced as you read his message. You quickly made your way to the bedroom, retrieving the Boudoir bag from the closet with trembling hands. The delicate lace and silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the lingerie, adjusting the straps and garters with care. You stood before the new mirror James had sent, admiring how the deep, rich color complemented your skin tone. The set hugged your curves in all the right places. Standing before the mirror James had gifted you, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence.

A text alert broke your reverie.

JAMES: Five minutes.

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric once more before draping the robe back over your shoulders. You dimmed the lights in the bedroom and lit a few candles, creating a soft, inviting ambiance.

The sound of a key in the lock made your pulse quicken. You perched on the edge of the bed, listening as Bucky’s footsteps approached.

The bedroom door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Would you ever get used to the way he looked at you?

"Well," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "this is certainly a welcome home."

You stood, your fingers toying with the tie of your robe. "I thought you might appreciate a little preview of my shopping spree."

He set a golden box on your dresser and then moved closer, his steps deliberate and predatory. He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of your robe. "May I?"

You nodded, your heart racing as he slowly undid the tie and pushed the silky fabric off your shoulders. The robe pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in the exquisite lingerie.

Bucky inhaled sharply, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "Beautiful.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Show me how much you missed me," he growled.

You leaned into him, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. "I thought you were going to show me how much you missed me," you teased, running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, I intend to," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "But first, I want to savor this moment. You've outdone yourself."

His hands roamed over the delicate lace and silk, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the barely contained power in his muscles as he held you close.

“I thought you wouldn’t be here until much, much later,” you said, breathing in the scent of him, cologne mingled with his natural musk. “The flights I saw had landings after midnight.”

He snorted. “My private jet provides service according to my schedule, not anyone else’s.”

“Oh,” was your soft and surprised reaction, realizing you should not be at all surprised to learn he owned a private jet.

"Turn around, love," he commanded softly. "Let me see all of you."

You complied, slowly spinning to face the mirror. He stood behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. His hands skimmed down your sides, fingertips tracing the lace edges of your lingerie. You shivered at his touch, watching as his expression darkened with desire.

"Do you see how stunning you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How every curve, every line of your body is a work of art?"

You leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "I see how you look at me," you whispered. "That's what makes me feel beautiful."

You watched in the mirror as his lips trailed up your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. Your breath quickened as one of his hands splayed across your stomach, pulling you back against him.

He growled low in his throat, his arms tightening around you. "You still have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the edge of the lace at your hip.

You turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his face. "Then show me," you challenged, your eyes locked on his.

Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more at your words, a predatory smile curving his lips. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss as he carried you to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness.

"You want me to show you?" he growled, hovering over you. His fingers traced the delicate straps of your lingerie, sending shivers across your skin. "I'll show you exactly what you do to me."

He began a torturous exploration of your body, his lips and hands mapping every inch of you. The exquisite lingerie became both a barrier and a tantalizing tease as Bucky lavished attention on the exposed skin while skimming over the lace and silk. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"James," you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair. "Please…"

He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love. I've been dreaming of you all week."

His talented fingers deftly unclasped the delicate hooks of your bra, slowly peeling the lace away to reveal your skin beneath. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated flesh, arching into his touch as he palmed your breasts.

"Beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along your collarbone. "So fucking beautiful."

You tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Too many clothes," you panted, fumbling with the buttons.

Bucky chuckled, sitting back on his heels to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Your eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted torso as more of his skin was revealed. The dim candlelight cast shadows that accentuated every plane and angle of his muscular form.

"Like what you see?" he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Always," you breathed, reaching up to run your hands over his chest and shoulders.

He caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You melted into his kiss, your body arching up to meet his as he pressed you into the mattress. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. You tugged at his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, but he held firm.

"Ah ah," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not done admiring my gift yet."

His free hand skimmed down your side, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you.

"James, please," you gasped, breaking away from the kiss.

He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he tsked, nipping at your lower lip. "But I suppose I have kept you waiting all week, haven't I?"

In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and moved down your body. His lips and tongue traced a burning path along your skin, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing lower.

With deft movements, he removed the rest of your lingerie, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you. You reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Bucky chuckled, gently moving your hands aside to finish undressing himself.

Finally skin to skin, you both sighed at the contact. Bucky's weight settled over you, comforting and electrifying all at once. His lips found yours again as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You gasped against his mouth, your body arching to take him deeper.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Show me," you breathed, nails raking down his back.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Bucky began to move, setting a rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hips drove into yours.

You lost yourself in the sensations - the slide of his skin against yours, the delicious friction where your bodies joined, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the flex and ripple of his muscles as he moved above you.

"James," you moaned, feeling the familiar tension building low in your belly. "I'm close."

Bucky slowed his movements, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm not done with you."

With a low growl, he suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping at the loss. Before you could protest, his strong hands grasped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.

His palms glided down your sides, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at his touch, anticipation building as he gently urged your hips upward.

"On your knees for me, beautiful," he commanded softly, his palms smoothing over the swell of your backside.

You complied eagerly, pushing yourself up onto all fours. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Bucky's hands continued their journey, kneading the flesh of your thighs and hips with intent appreciation.

You felt the bed shift as he positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging your head back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke.

"You're a vision like this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for me."

You whimpered, pressing back against him, desperate for more contact. Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. Slowly, torturously, he dragged the tip of his length along your folds, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers curling into the sheets. "James, please," you whimpered, pushing back against him.

He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "So eager for me," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you breathed, looking back over your shoulder to meet his intense gaze. "I want you, James. Please."

With a low growl, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Bucky stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against your back as he struggled to maintain control.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "So tight, so wet, so warm and perfect for me."

He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor you as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Look,” he said, and turned your head to take in the sight of you two in the mirror.

You locked your eyes on his through the reflection. “Need you to see how gorgeous you are when you come apart for me.”

You keened for him as he pulled you back on his cock with a particularly demanding thrust.

“When I breed you.”

You gasped.

He groaned and curled his body down over your back.

Because you also clenched powerfully around his cock.

“Mmm, you like that,” he murmured right into your ear, then licked the shell of it. “Want to be bred,” he continued, pace unyielding as he split you open with his cock. “Not as much as I want to fill you up with my seed,” another thrust, “until you’re growing with my child,” another thrust, “no question who you belong to,” thrust, “that you’re claimed,” thrust, “that you’re mine.”

You were utterly breathless for a moment, and he registered that, too, just as he registers every movement, every reaction.

He continued to thrust slowly in and out of your leaking cunt, but he noticed you were no longer fluid and pliant, but that you had tensed up. He stopped. “What’s going on in your beautiful head?”

You bit your lip, and your head dropped down, turning away from his direct gaze in the mirror.

He pulled out and laid on his side next to you.

“Talk to me,” he said, and you weren’t sure if this tone was commanding or pleading, but it was certainly serious.

You sat up, folded your hands in your lap and took a deep breath. As steadily as you could, you said, “You knew my measurements and had sent a perfect wardrobe of intimates to me withing twenty-four hours of our first encounter.”

He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corner.

“So, I assume you also know I have an IUD, and that you that knew before you fucked me in the kitchen that first night at the restaurant.”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“I’m nowhere near ready to think about children.”

He leaned up on one elbow and reached for your hands, smoothing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “We have as much time to think about that as you want.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes searched his. You could see he wasn’t merely trying to tell you what you wanted to hear - he never had.  

“I look forward to children with you one day, but I’m in no rush. When I imagined settling down with a wife,” he continued, “I didn’t think it would be for another five or six years, but once I found you, there was no question that I wanted you.”

"I want that future with you too, just... not quite yet."

Bucky sat up, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently as he looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Sometimes I get carried away in the moment. You inspire that in me. But I never want you to feel uncomfortable or trapped.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your body relaxing as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "I didn't mean to kill the mood."

Bucky shook his head, pulling you closer. "Don't apologize. Communication is important, especially about something like this." His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin.

You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who could be so commanding and intense one moment, and so tender and understanding the next. "I love you," you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Bucky responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible."

His hands began to roam your body again, easily reigniting the need in both of your for each other.

You broke off the kiss briefly, "Just so we're clearly communicating, breeding kink? Yes. Children yet? No."

"Noted," he laughed, and returned to devouring your lips.

Bucky shifted his position from sitting to kneeling, settling back on his heels, then with one fluid motion he turned you and pulled you into his lap with your thighs falling on either side of his into a wide, kneeling position. He lifted your hips, then lined up his cock with your entrance, and brought you down again on his length. He guided your hips until you were impaled all the way down. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, drawing a low moan from your lips.

He banded his left arm around your torso, and his right hand smoothed up your sternum, between your breasts, coming to rest in a secure hold on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of him inside you, behind you, right at your back, every inch of your bodies pressed together. Your left hand traced over his forearm, then tangled with his fingers around your waist, your other hand moving back to anchor yourself on his hip. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then began thrusting. Each thrust seemed to push a deep moan out of you for him, and you didn’t hold back.

"Open your eyes," he commanded softly, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at us."

You obeyed, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. The sight before you was breathtaking. Bucky sat tall and powerful behind you, his muscular thighs flexed as he supported your weight. Your body was on full display, skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His thick arm across your stomach, holding you close against his chest.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How perfectly you fit with me?"

You watched in the mirror as one of his hands slowly trailed up your body, cupping your breast and teasing the sensitive peak. Your back arched at his touch, pressing you further onto his cock.

Bucky groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "That's it," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Feel me inside you."

Entranced by his words and the intoxicating view in the mirror, you began to move. You rolled your hips, grinding down onto him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Bucky's hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helped you ride him.

You watched in fascination as your bodies moved together, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath Bucky's skin and the way your own body responded to his touch. The sight of him disappearing inside you with each downward motion was almost too much to bear.

"James," you gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the pleasure built. "Oh god, James..."

“No,” he growled, and his hand went up to your neck, taking you by the throat, not aggressive, but commanding, making it clear that he wanted you to keep looking in the mirror. “I won’t let you fucking miss this.”

It occurred to you then that this handsome, audacious bastard, the fiancé who you’d given your heart to, knew exactly what he wanted when he sent you this mirror and had it placed in the exact spot in front of you now.

He wanted this.

He wanted to see this and have you see this. The debauchery and the devotion while the two of you were intimate together.

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze pushing you even closer to the brink. You watched as his free hand slid down your body, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your most sensitive area becoming more frantic. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you into a faster pace.

"That's it, love," he growled, his voice low and husky in your ear. "Let go for me. I want to see you come undone."

His words, combined with the intense sensations and the erotic sight in the mirror, and touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky held you tightly against him, his hips still moving as he worked you through your orgasm.

"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. "So fucking beautiful."

As the aftershocks subsided, Bucky gently turned you in his lap so you were facing him. His hands cupped your face, drawing you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel him still hard inside you, and you rocked your hips, drawing a groan from his lips.

"Your turn," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

With a growl, Bucky flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle as he began to thrust into you with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the deeper penetration, your hands clutching at his back as he sunk into you. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, heavy breaths, and the slap of skin on skin.

You reached up, pulling him down for a passionate kiss while he worked up to a relentless pace. He drove into you with powerful thrusts, each one pushing the air from your lungs. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as you felt another orgasm building.

"James," you panted, your nails raking down his back, "I'm so close again."

He growled, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. "My good girl, I’ll always give you what you need."

His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your oversensitive clit. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing you right to the edge. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed over you.

Bucky's rhythm faltered as your walls clenched around him. With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside you, prolonging your own pleasure.

For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Bucky's weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as you floated in post-orgasmic bliss. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, murmuring words of love and praise against your skin.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling utterly content.

"I love you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Bucky's hand stroked up and down your back, his touch soothing and gentle. "I love you too," he replied, his voice deep and warm. "More than I thought possible."

You hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and the faint flicker of the candles.

After a few moments, Bucky spoke again, his voice soft. "I meant what I said earlier. About children, about our future. We have all the time in the world."

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I know," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Thank you for understanding."

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Always. We're partners in this, in everything."

You lay in comfortable silence again for a while, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence. Bucky's fingers idly traced patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

"I missed this," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Having you here, holding me." Everything with him was still relatively so new, but it felt like this was exactly how it always should be.

He hummed in agreement, tightening his arms around you. "Me too. Those nights in Chicago felt endless without you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, you're home now. And you brought me another present, didn’t you?”

“Oh, you noticed that golden box I brought in with me, did you?”

“Yes, can I have it, please?” you asked sweetly, your curiosity thrumming more with each second now that you had remembered it.

He chuckled at your eagerness, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly disentangling himself from your embrace. "Alright, love. Your wish is my command."

You watched appreciatively as he padded across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. He retrieved the golden box from the dresser and returned to the bed, settling beside you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and you complied, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

You heard the rustle of paper and the soft click of a box opening. A moment later, an intoxicating aroma filled the air - rich, complex, with notes of cocoa, vanilla, and something tantalizingly exotic.

"Open," Bucky murmured.

Parting your lips, you allowed him to place a morsel of chocolate in your mouth.

The chocolate melted slowly on your tongue, releasing layers of flavor that made you moan softly in delight. Rich, dark cocoa mingled with hints of caramel and a subtle spiciness that lingered pleasantly. As the last of it dissolved, you opened your eyes to find Bucky watching you intently, his gaze dark with renewed desire.

"Good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, licking your lips. "Incredible. What is it?"

He smiled, holding up an elegantly crafted golden box. "Amedei Porcelana. Some of the rarest and most expensive chocolate in the world. I had it flown in from Tuscany."

Your eyes widened. "James, that must have cost a fortune."

He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the point of having money if I can't spoil my beautiful fiancée?" His fingers traced along your jawline. "Besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every penny."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Bucky leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. The lingering taste of chocolate on your tongue mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. "I think I might enjoy that chocolate even more when I taste it on your lips," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You smiled, reaching for the box. "Well, we have plenty more to sample. Maybe we should conduct a thorough taste test?"

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I like the way you think, chef."

He took the box from your hands, selecting another piece of chocolate. This time, instead of feeding it to you, he placed it between his teeth, raising an eyebrow in challenge. You leaned in, capturing the other half of the chocolate with your lips, your mouths meeting in a sweet, decadent kiss.

As the night wore on, you continued your playful exploration, alternating between savoring the exquisite chocolate and indulging in each other. Bucky trailed pieces along your skin, following the path with his lips and tongue. You reciprocated, drawing patterns on his sculpted chest and abs with melted chocolate before licking it clean.

The room filled with soft sighs, quiet laughter, and murmured words of affection as you rediscovered each other's bodies. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time.

As dawn approached, you lay tangled together, satiated and drowsy. Bucky's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"I could get used to welcomes like this," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "Maybe I should send you away more often if this is how you come back to me."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Don't you dare. I much prefer having you by my side every day."

You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Me too," you admitted softly. "Though I have to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder."

"And apparently inspires some very creative shopping," he teased, his hand skimming down your side to rest on your hip.

You laughed, a warm, carefree sound that filled the room. "Well, I had to make sure you'd remember me while you were away."

"Impossible," Bucky murmured, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, his touch feather-light but ardent. "You're etched into every part of me now, love."

The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. Even after hours of intimacy, he still had the power to make your heart race with just a look. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of your shared feelings.

As you parted, you noticed the first rays of dawn peeking in through the curtains of your window. You settled your head against his shoulder, and only just registered the press of his lips in a kiss to your forehead before you dropped off to sleep in his arms in the morning light, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly in love with this man.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more in the DEVOUR collection...

Some of this was content I cut from the final chapter of the original 4-parts of the series (heat) that once I got to the end of that chapter felt like it didn't fit anymore, but it was stuff I couldn't throw away, so I just kept it, knowing it would have a place at some point in their story later, so I'm glad I finally got to share it with you!

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[witchywithwhiskey]

for so long as you live

pairing: mafia!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: the fearsome boss of new york city's russian mob proves a point about who you belong to

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), very mild dubcon, intoxication, fingering (f receiving), public play, finger sucking, choking, breathplay, very mild blood kink, dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (printsessa), very possessive bucky

word count: 2.0k

a/n: i wrote this for @the-slumberparty's emoji game using these: 🍕❤️🔥 i hope the plot twist in this actually works (idk if it counts as a PLOT twist but whatever). i just hope it's surprising but still makes sense!!! also all the russian words are from google translate so if any are wrong, let me know and i'll fix them (translations are down at the bottom because one is a spoiler!) anyway i hope y'all enjoy!!

It was a warm summer night in New York City, the kind where even the breeze was pleasant enough that you didn’t resist when a balmy gust slipped beneath the hem of your short white dress and slid up your legs, tickling the soft skin of your thighs. 

Neither did you resist when the breeze was chased by the searching hand of Bucky Barnes, his fingers skimming up your smooth skin as he curled his body around yours in the back booth of the late night Brooklyn pizza parlor.

The front door of the shop was open, and all manner of drunken Brooklynites traipsed over the threshold, intent on ordering a greasy slice that would soak up some of the alcohol in their stomachs. The crowd was loud and rowdy and thankfully unobservant, because you were painfully aware that any one of them could very easily catch you with Bucky’s hand up your skirt. 

The back booth wasn’t nearly dark enough, nor secluded enough to hide you entirely from view, but the insistent desire and warming liquor pounding in your blood made it difficult to care. 

Bucky’s fingers slid another inch up your thigh, pressing between your soft curves until they found the wetness that had dripped from your folds and made a mess under your skirt. His rumbling chuckle felt like another warm, summer breeze, suffusing you in a heat that burned from the inside out. 

Your thighs fell open of their own accord, giving Bucky unfettered access to the place that ached for his touch, even as a protesting whine worked its way up your throat.

“Bucky…” you mewled, your reticence clear in your tone. Your fingers closed around the sinewy forearm that was disappearing up your skirt, intent on pulling him away from your soaking heat. Your nails dug into his golden skin when his other hand darted out and grabbed you by the throat. 

With his thumb pressed to the hinge of your jaw, he turned your face to him, a warning sparkling in his ice blue eyes. A thrum of fear and excitement churned low in your belly at the way Bucky was looking at you—like you were prey, and he was a predator who had already decided he was going to eat you for dinner.

“I hope you weren’t about to tell me not to touch this pussy, printsessa,” Bucky rumbled, his voice deep and low like an oncoming thunderstorm. His hand wedged between your thighs beneath your skirt, shoving your legs wider so that he could cup your bare heat in his palm. “I hope you haven’t forgotten who this cunt belongs to.” 

Your breath was coming in short, rabbity pants, your heart racing in your chest and your blood pounding in your veins like you were running for your life. But your mind knew what your body did not—it would be pointless to run from Bucky Barnes. 

The Zimniy Soldat was the most feared boss in the city’s Russian mafia, a fact you’d learned the hard way when your father had paid off his debts by giving you to Bucky. 

Bucky’s gaze bore into your own as he pushed two fingers into your tight channel, his eyes watching hungrily as your face went slack with pleasure. 

“I’ll touch you whenever I want,” he growled, dragging his fingers back and plunging them into you again slowly, his eyes never straying from your face. “I’ll fuck you whenever I want—where ever I want.” 

His other hand held you pinned to the leather booth by your throat, your body responding so eagerly to his touch that it felt like a betrayal. His thumb and forefinger pressed into the sides of your neck making your pussy spasm around his fingers. 

Your body proved Bucky’s point before he made it as he rumbled, “This cunt belongs to me, printsessa.” 

You hadn’t said a word since his name, but your slow submission was clear in every little movement of your body—your thighs spreading even wider for Bucky’s hand, your limbs loosening and melting into his hold, your lips falling open in a soundless moan as he fingerfucked you. Bucky owned you, and you both knew it. 

And he relished your submission, even if you hadn’t quite accepted his possession of you yet. But you would.

The victorious smile that curved Bucky’s mouth was sharp and dangerous as a knife. When he spoke, though, his voice was as warm as the balmy summer breeze. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, “give yourself to me.” The ice in his eyes was slowly but surely melting as he watched pleasure dance across your face, his smile widening into something hot and hungry. “This life of yours is mine now, printsessa, but if you’re a good girl for me, I can make sure it’s filled with pleasure and happiness,” he purred, his lips brushing against the apple of your cheek, their softness followed by the rough scrape of his scruff. 

Bucky slid a third finger into your tight hole, stretching you wider and making you bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from crying out in pain-edged pleasure. Your chest heaved with the effort to stay quiet and, unbidden, a tear slipped from the corner of your eye while blood pooled on your lip. 

But Bucky never stopped fucking you with his fingers, his hand working your body expertly as the soft, wet sounds of your obscenely sopping cunt reached your ears. Instead, the Zimniy Soldat kissed the tear from your cheek and licked the blood from your swollen lip, pulling back to stare into your eyes as he watched you come undone for him. 

“You are mine,” he said with a tone of finality, as if his statement was an incontrovertible fact. Any protest you might’ve had—though in truth, you didn’t have any left—died in your throat as he choked you harder, his fingers working your pussy faster, grinding the heel of his palm into your wet, puffy clit as he continued on, pushing you to the edge of your release. “Moya printsessa, moya zhena.” 

You felt Bucky’s ring—your husband’s ring—smooth and unyielding and warm from his skin, slip inside your cunt as he buried his fingers in your body. He rubbed your clit ruthlessly until he made you come right there in the back of the pizza parlor, not caring if anyone in the crowded shop could see it.

Your left hand, bedecked in a dazzling white sapphire ring and matching wedding band, wrapped around the back of Bucky’s neck, your nails digging into his skin as you clung to the most dangerous man in all of New York City while he made you come harder than you ever had before. Pleasure tore through your body as you held Bucky’s warm blue gaze, staring at the man who’d staked his claim on you.

The man you’d married only a few hours prior because it was the only way to settle your father’s debts.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” Bucky growled, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm, his eyes watching you hungrily, greedily.

Already, you could read him well enough to know he was thinking about watching you come on his cock as he claimed you in the most base, primal way possible. Your pussy clenched harder on his fingers at the thought, your body aching for it even as you came.

“Come all over your husband’s fingers—see how good I can be to you when you obey me, printsessa.” 

Your teeth had sunk deep into your lower lip to quell any sounds of ecstasy, but the pleasure was too much, too overwhelming, and you threw your head back. Your breathy cry was muffled by Bucky’s fingers choking your throat harder, which only wrung even more bliss out of your body as black crept into the edges of your vision. 

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, your husband’s relentless touch dragging out your release until your strangled moans devolved into desperate whimpers. Tears gathered in your lashes, and your entire body trembled in the red leather booth at the back of the pizza parlor.

Only then did Bucky relent. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured before his lips slammed down on yours, his mouth claiming yours just as surely as his fingers had claimed your cunt. 

He swallowed the keening whine you let out when he pulled his fingers from your throbbing pussy, your body aching at the loss of him. But then he replaced his mouth with them, pushing his fingers between your lips so you could taste your release—the release he’d wrung so masterfully from your body.

“Clean up your mess, moya zhena,” Bucky rumbled, his eyes sparkling with depraved delight as you dutifully licked his fingers clean.

When he decided you were done, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and let you collapse against his chest, your cheek pressed to his white cotton dress shirt—the one he’d worn to your wedding earlier that day. 

His jacket had been shed at some point during the party at one of his nightclubs—a club decorated in neon red hearts. Bucky had smirked in amusement when you’d pointed out the irony of celebrating your forced marriage in a place where the theme was love. 

That infuriating smirk had made you decide the best way to celebrate your sham nuptials was to drink and dance the night away. You’d spent your night trying not to notice how handsome the mob boss you’d married was, or how delicious he looked with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Or how a very small part of you enjoyed the way his eyes never strayed from you for long. 

It had been your idea to get some pizza after the club, a last ditch attempt to put off the wedding night you were certain Bucky expected. You kept telling yourself you didn’t want him to touch you, but the second his fingers had grazed your bare knee beneath the simple white dress you wore, tingles of pleasure going straight to your clit, you’d known it was no use pretending you didn’t want your new husband. 

When your father told you he’d arranged for you to marry the Zimniy Soldat in exchange for having his debts cleared, you never believed you could find anything to like about your mob boss husband. But Bucky had proven you very wrong in that back booth in the pizza parlor, and you were warming up to the idea of being Mrs. James Buchanan Barnes.

“Tell me you’re mine, printsessa,” Bucky rumbled, drawing your thoughts back to the present moment. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head where it was tucked under his chin, and your heart flipped happily in your chest.

The words were no less a command for the warmth in his tone that he seemed to reserve for only you, his new wife. 

Perhaps it was because of the pleasure still thrumming through your body, or because you weren’t so convinced anymore that being married to the Zimniy Soldat would be a bad thing, but the words came much easier to your lips than you would’ve expected. 

“I’m yours, my husband.” 

A pleased sound rumbled in Bucky’s throat and you felt the way his heart beat harder in his chest with your cheek pressed to his sternum. You couldn’t help the small smile that curved your lips when Bucky threaded the fingers of his left hand through yours, your matching rings slotting next to each other and glittering beneath the yellow lights of the pizza parlor.

“You’ll be happy with me,” Bucky promised, the most recent of many vows he’d made to you that day. His words rang with determination and an emotion you’d never expected to hear from the mob boss—adoration. “So long as you always remember you belong to me, moya zhena.” 

A shiver of delight raced down your spine at his possessive words, finding yourself liking them much more than you would’ve thought. 

Something told you that you’d never forget you belonged to Bucky Barnes. Not at any point during the hopefully long and happy life you were going to live with him. You were his wife, and he was your husband, for so long as you both should live.

translations:

printsessa/moya printsessa - princess/my princess

Zimniy Soldat - Winter Soldier

moya zhena - my wife

[notafunkiller]

What if I am too much?

Summary: When Sam's girlfriend calls you clingy, you decide to give Bucky some space. What you don’t know is that he doesn’t want any space. None at all.

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, angst, teasing, language, pet names, spanking, daddy kink, metal arm kink, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 2.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I want to thank @marvelouslizzie for her help!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

“Oh, you’re alone?”

You turn your head in the direction of the voice and smile politely. You don’t recognize this woman, but she looks at you like she does.

“Uh, yes. Hello!”

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

You instantly blush, ashamed, and search for Bucky’s face in the crowd. Nowhere to be found. Damn it!

“No, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says before coming next to you. “I’m Misty.” Brunette, tall and beautiful.

“Where did we meet?”

“Sam’s birthday, but I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were too busy clinging to Bucky’s side all night.” She sounds serious, and you freeze, having no idea where this came from. She simply laughs, grabbing your arm with some kind of bionic cold hand for a second before letting it go.

It’s not like Bucky’s. It’s more... robotic.

“Clinging?” You ask confused.

“Yeah, you know, always sitting with him, holding his arm, following him around.”

You puff, already annoyed by this random woman. “Following him around? I’m not a dog!”

“Didn’t say you are a dog, honey. Just pointing out the obvious.”

You try to hold your tongue, pushing aside the impulse to start a fight. This is a night about Bucky. Not you or your discomfort. And she is his ex-co-worker-friend’s girlfriend. Your anger can wait.

“Alright, but how does my clinging affect you, though?”

“Oh, don’t take it so personally! I just meant to be friendly. It’s a girl’s advice. Live a little, being insecure is not gonna save your relationship.”

A piece of advice no one asked for. A take you never even considered. You’re not insecure and you’re definitely not keeping Bucky to your side all the time. You don’t… He is free to do whatever the hell he wants.

“Thank you.”

She has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t be so defensive, honey! Gonna get a cocktail, want some?”

You shake your head, feeling a hole in your stomach after she leaves you alone, and you basically run to the bathroom, trying to calm down. What if she is right, though? What if Sam heard or saw something? Maybe Bucky is extra grumpy or unhappy. Maybe he even complained…

You never thought sitting with Bucky is a sign of clinginess. You thought it’d help... he is not the most comfortable person at events. He gets stared at a lot, he hates small talk, and you really like being close to him. Gosh, you are clingy!

The rest of the night passes like a blur. When you come back, Bucky’s waiting for you, and despite your instinct to wrap your arm around his back and let him hold you, you keep a little distance, giving Sam and his nosy girlfriend a fake smile, while Bucky keeps staring at you strangely.

You even manage to avoid touching him all week somehow, except for a few kisses now and then. Your period came, and as he tried to hold you, you had to fight tears while telling him not to. You’re sick and tired and you miss him, but you want to give him some space. You’ve been suffocating him for so long... You make sure to cry only when he’s out because he might hear you even in the shower. He has super hearing after all.

You thought it would become easier every day, but quite the opposite. Every time you’re close to giving up, you remember Sam’s comment that he made a week after you met him about how Bucky always likes his space and what Misty told you, so you fight against your wish.

Until Sunday afternoon.

You’re in bed, scrolling down on Instagram as Bucky comes out of the shower. You try not to stare at him, but how can you not? He looks absolutely incredible.

What you don’t expect is him trying to get on top of you to tickle you with a huge smile on his face. He’s so adorable.

“B-Bucky, stop!” You laugh as his hands get under your T-shirt. He loves making you laugh no matter how he does it. “N-no.”

“Oh, I will,” he says playfully.

But what he failed to tell you is that stopping means sneaking his head under your T-shirt, which starts to rip a little because of the stretch, and resting it on your boobs.

“Bucky!”

He puffs, annoyed. “Why the fuck are you wearing a bra in the house, bubba?”

“Cause it’s a bra?” You ask back sarcastically, but you know this is weird. You always complain about needing to wear it outside. But inside? It’s even worse.

“Unacceptable.” He quickly rips your bra in half, not bothering to unhook it, and you feel his beard on your breast all of a sudden, making you shiver. Fuck, you really miss this.

“B-Bucky, come on, your hair is a little wet!”

“Bubba, please...”

“Bucky! Why did you do that?” He immediately takes his head out of your T-shirt, and you almost cry. He looks do lost and scared.

“Baby, do you not want me anymore?”

“What the fuck?” You groan. This is the last thing you wanted him to think. All you tried to do was to make him happy and feel less pressured.

“You don’t let me touch you. You don’t want to cuddle with me. You don’t wake me up with kisses. You don’t get on top of me You don’t hug me! What did I do?”

Your heart aches for both of you. “Wasn’t that better?”

“Better for who?” He cries. “This was the worst week of my life since Hydra.”

“Unfortunately, that cannot be true, Bucky.” You sigh, getting closer to him. “I thought you like space...”

“I do, but not with my fucking baby!”

You melt at his words, truth be told. He said it so passionately, but you’re so confused.

“I thought I was being too clingy, touching you too much, you know?”

“What? Where did this come from?”

You close your eyes. How are you supposed to answer this without sounding like a petty bitch?

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does!” You feel his hands grabbing your face so you can look at him. “It means I did something wrong.”

You frown, upset that he thinks that. He’s been nothing but kind, understanding, and loving to you, and you hate how he feels like he failed you or something.

“Sam’s girlfriend told me I am clingy... always with you, never leaving you alone to breathe basically. And it reminded me of Sam saying how much you love your space, and I just...” You try not to cry, you really do, but you cannot hold back the tears this time, which Bucky immediately reaches to wipe with his flesh fingers.

“Jesus, baby! I don’t give a goddamn shit about what they say, you aren’t allowed to listen to anyone! Just let me touch you.”

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, and Bucky lifts you a bit so you can sit on his lap. You can hear his heartbeat, and you find that so peaceful.

“I thought you’re gonna break up with me, honey.” He whispers in your ear. “I was terrified when you didn’t let me cuddle with you.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” You don’t know what else to say. You hurt both of you for days just because you let some woman get inside your head, but you had good intentions. “I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

“I should be the one saying that, not you, bubba.” He leaves a kiss on your shoulder. “God, I missed you so much, it feels surreal to touch you.”

“I love you, I’m sorry.”

“Promise to never do this shit ever again!”

“I’ll try,” you murmur. “I didn’t realize you want me to touch you so much.”

Bucky lifts your head. “You know I have to punish you for that, right?”

“Punish me?” You ask surprised.

“Yeah, for believing some stranger over your man. For pulling away and giving me a heart attack. And for depriving yourself of my cuddling skills.”

You giggle. “What if I let you suck my nipples for a whole week anytime you wanted?”

“I already do that!” Bucky lifts your T-shirt as he speaks, and you gasp.

“You do not!”

“Yes, I do. Remember when I came home from the last mission and I made you come by-” He lowers his head and licks your right breast, avoiding your nipple.

“Fuck you, tease!”

“I am the tease?!” He snorts, continuing to lick.

“You’re always the tease. Now kiss me and gimmie your cock.”

“I won’t give you anything until I punish you.”

“Jamie!” You scream when he turns you around, ripping off your shorts in half, along with your underwear before placing you on his thighs. “What the fuck?”

“What the fuck to you for keeping yourself away from me.” You feel him caressing your ass for a few seconds before slapping your right cheek with his flesh hand. You squirm, gripping into his hip.

“F-fuck!”

“Count.”

You groan. “Jamie...” He spanks you again but harder, and this time you moan. “T-two.”

“Nope, we start over.”

“O-one.”

“Good girl!”

The third and fourth aren’t as hard as you want and you find yourself wiggling your ass in the air.

“Harder.”

“Harder?” He snorts, amused, and before he can bring his flesh hand in the air, you grab his metal arm.

“Please, daddy, use this one!”

Daddy? It didn’t take too long for you to get back in the mood.

“Can’t use it, baby, I’m sorry.”

“No!” You cry. “I need it, pleaseee. I’ll ride your face as many times as you w-want.”

Bucky still doesn’t agree. “Baby, it would hurt.”

“Let it hurt!”

You want it to hurt because this pain is not unbearable, quite the opposite. It pushes you over the edge faster.

He sighs and listens to you, bringing his metal hand to your ass, but you barely even feel it when he slaps. You groan, upset.

“I said slap! Do you want me to hover?”

“I can fucking hurt you.”

“I told you to hurt me!” You beg. “Please, honey! Please, please, please.”

He does it again, not hard enough for you, but you count anyway. Again and again.

“Jesus, you’re making my thighs so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”

“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”

Bucky’s moan comes somehow from the back of his throat, and the last spanks are perfect. He gently caresses your ass, cooling it off with his metal hand, and you smile. “You’re so dirty sometimes, but also such a good girl taking your punishment perfectly.”

“I am sorry,” you whisper.

“For what exactly?”

You pout, grabbing his face. “For all of it. But you’re you, Bucky. You’re the greatest guy in the world, I just didn’t want to be annoying.”

“You were annoying when you didn’t let me even hug you.”

You know that, but sometimes you can’t help but do dumb things, thinking about him. “I wanted you to be happy.”

“Well, I wasn’t happy, obviously. And neither were you, bubba. Promise me you’ll talk to me first next time.”

“I was just stupid…”

“No.” You feel his thumb all over your lips. “You were worried. I love you and I really need your touch, okay?”

“I noticed,” you laugh.

“Good, now feed me my boobs, and then I wanna see you riding my face as you negotiated.”

You fake sigh and grab your boob. “Open up.”

*

You’re not sure how to react when Bucky drags you straight to Sam and his girlfriend as soon as you get inside the museum.

“Hey, Buck-”

“Who do you think you are?”

Misty gasps while Sam and you freeze.

“Wow, wow, wow, man. Hold on a sec, what is going on?”

“What is going on, Samuel?” Bucky asks rhetorically through his teeth. “Ask your little girlfriend where she got her audacity from to tell my girl she is clingy. That she basically spends too much time with me. Who the fuck gave her the permission to even speak to her? So she either apologizes and keeps her mouth shut, or we’ll have a big problem.” Bucky turns his head to look at Misty. “From one metal arm to another. Wanna try me?”

“You did what? What the hell?”

Misty frowns, staring at you. “You went to complain to him for giving you a friendly, harmless advice?”

Bucky instantly grabs her metal arm wrist before you can answer.

“You got three seconds to beg for her forgiveness before I snap your hand in half. And I am not bluffing.”

Sam doesn’t even try to get between them, simply watching, and Misty immediately gets teary.

“I’m... sorry.”

Bucky shakes his head, squeezing her wrist. Holy shit! You haven’t seen him like this in ages. “Didn’t hear you.”

“I am sorry. I should have minded my own business!”

“Yes, you should’ve,” you say without regret. “But I forgive you.”

Bucky lets go with a grunt before nodding to Sam and bringing his hand to your hips, leading you toward the exit.

As soon as you are outside, you don’t even care if someone can hear you as you speak. “Fuck, I wanna suck your cock so badly!”

Bucky laughs. “I see. In the car… is that okay for you?”

You get on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Perfect.”

[mrsbarnesblog]

personal pillow

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Reader

Summary: You confront avengers when they start teasing Bucky about being too soft.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: established relationship, avengers tease bucky, he's a grumpy old man, fluff

Author’s note: soft bucky is my everything, and I literally cannot imagine him acting another way.

Bucky Barnes wasn't the most affectionate and nice person on earth. Always grumpy and with an attitude, didn’t like physical touch, and hated being vulnerable and soft. However, when you were alone in your room, he was a completely different man. 

The only thing that he loved more than you, food, and old music was sleep. He hated it right after the Winter Soldier program was removed because of the violent and dark nightmares, but you were the solution to all of his problems. 

He loved sleeping with you. On you, to be exact. 

He accidentally discovered it once when he just threw himself onto your bed and somehow laid with his head on your stomach. 

You didn't know why your boyfriend liked it so much, but since that day he always ended up on your stomach, your boobs, or between your thighs with hands wrapped around your body, and it was almost impossible to drag him away. You always ran your fingers through his fluffy hair in soothing motions to ease the tension in his body, and it worked every single time. Bucky slept like a baby in your arms. 

Today he left early in the morning for training with Sam, but then he had a lot of paper work and something that needed to be done in the city, so you didn’t really talk to or see him. He only left a kiss on your forehead while you were still in bed and sent you a few messages throughout the day. 

It was your day off, and you didn’t feel like doing anything special or being productive. So you brought a fluffy comforter from your bed, a cup of hot chocolate, and sat in the common room to watch a movie on a big ass screen that Tony bought to show off.

When the film almost ended and you were already kind of sleepy, you heard firm footsteps from the hall. The tall and big body was standing in the doorframe, but you didn’t see your boyfriend’s face yet; it was pretty dark in the room.

“Hey, baby, how was your day?” You paused your movie and squinted to see Bucky. 

“Fucking amazing. A bunch of assholes and tons of reports that they sent me last minute.” He grumbled, coming closer to you. “Let’s go, I need my personal pillow or I won’t fall asleep.” 

You tried to hold back a laugh when you finally saw his face. Tired and frowned with pouty lips like a child. Bucky was painfully cute when he was a little bit mad and annoyed, and you didn’t want to do anything more than pinch his cheeks and kiss all of his face.

“You look so cute, gosh.” You smiled, biting your lip. “But I have only... fifteen minutes of my movie left, and I really want to finish it today. Do you want to lay on me here for now?” You opened the covers and pointed at your belly. 

Bucky stood there silently for a few seconds, still with a frown on his face.

“I don’t want these douchebags to see us here.”

“They won’t; Steve is on the mission, Natasha is already in her room, and Sam went on a date. C’mon, I’ll massage your head.” That was everything you needed to convince your boyfriend to give up. He took off his shoes and laid on top of you with his head on your stomach and hands around your waist. 

You covered your bodies with a duvet and stroked his hair, brushing it over and over again with your fingers. You felt that Bucky pulled up your shirt a little bit, and as soon as his cheek met with your warm skin, he heavily sighted, finally feeling safe and calm.

“That's okay, baby.” You cooed, massaging his scalp. “Do you want to talk about your day? What made you upset?” 

“No, just want to feel you, doll. Missed you so much.” He mumbled against your stomach and closed his eyes as your soft touches made his body almost melt into yours. 

“I missed you too. I’ll just finish my film and we’ll go to sleep, ‘kay?” Bucky just slightly nodded, already feeling too sleepy to actually say something. 

It didn’t take him too much time to fall asleep completely. Your gentle scratches and the way you rolled his hair around your finger, along with the muffled sound of the TV and soft cover on top of him, did their work, and Bucky was peacefully snoring on you in a span of a few seconds. 

You weren’t much better than him; your eyes started closing as soon as the credit scene began, and you didn’t have enough power in you to resist it, especially when a giant, hot human pillow was sleeping on top of you. 

So you just gave up. 

The first thing that you heard when you woke up was mumbled talk and laughter. Your eyes snapped open because your brain completely forgot that you, in fact, weren’t in your room or bed.

The common room was filled with almost everyone. For fuck’s sake, when was the last time you saw that many Avengers together in one room? And now all of them were sitting on the other couches and armchairs, looking at you and laughing. Well, they weren’t looking at you; they were looking at Bucky, who was still glued to your body. 

You quickly sat straight, now completely awake. The movements disturbed Bucky’s peaceful sleep, making him grumble and try to get you back under him.

“I didn’t know that Cyborgs could be so clingy.” The most annoying voice Bucky could’ve possibly heard in the morning filled his ears, and he lost every last piece of sleep in his body, sitting up on the couch. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Willson? All of you, in fact.” Bucky looked around the room, seeing Sam, Nat, Wanda, Tony, and Clint with shit-eating smirks on their faces; Thor, who looked just happy to be involved; and Steve and Bruce, who actually felt uncomfortable to be there.

“Sorry, Buck, they just...” Steve wanted to apologize but was disturbed by Tony.

“Sam just told all of us to come here a few minutes ago because he had something hilarious. And look! The strong and scary Winter Soldier is being a softie for his girlfriend.” Tony laughed, almost dropping his cup of coffee. You didn’t even expect that, but you felt a sudden wave of anger going through your body because you were already sick of everyone pushing Bucky’s buttons. 

“Or maybe all of you should just mind your own business? You both would actually know something about Bucky if you tried anything besides making fun of him or trying to get him angry. You don’t even understand how fucking hard it is for him to communicate after everything that happened, and all of you are getting on my nerves. Just a bunch of children, I swear.” You growled, standing up and grabbing Bucky’s hand to drag him away. 

Everyone was surprised by your words, and even Bucky looked at you with a weird expression on his face but still stood up, holding your hand. 

“Sweets, it’s just a joke—” Natasha started.

“No, it’s not. I love you, Nat, I really do, but it’s not funny.” You looked around the room. “Y’all probably don’t understand the effect that your words  have, but I see in private what none of you can. And when I tell you that your mockery and jokes make everything worse, I really mean it.” Bucky awkwardly shifted near you under all of the eyes that were glued to him. He felt exposed by the way everyone saw how he showed his affection to you and that he, in fact, was a really touchy and sensitive person. “C’mon, Buck, everything’s okay.” You looked back at him with your usual soft eyes, and his whole attention was now focused completely on you. 

Everyone saw how Bucky’s body language changed when you talked to him, and even if someone like Tony or Sam couldn’t admit it out loud, the thought of being too harsh on Bucky appeared in their heads. 

Without any further words, you lead your boyfriend out of the common room, leaving the Avengers in an awkward silence. 

The comfort of your and Bucky’s shared room made you deeply inhale as soon as the door was closed behind you two. Before you could even say something, two strong hands wrapped around you from the back, and Bucky buried his face into your neck.

“Thank you, doll.” Your hand reached behind you to gently stroke Bucky's hair. “You didn’t have to do it, really. I got used to their words.” He squeezed you tighter, pressing his chest into your back.

“That’s not okay, baby. I’m sick of that. You may not say it to me or even admit it to yourself, but I see that it hurts you.” You turned around in his hands, placing your own on both sides of his face. “But that’s okay that you want to cuddle, to sleep on me, to be held. Really. There is nothing wrong with it. I’m really honored to be the person who is allowed to see your soft side.”

“I love you. Fuck, I love you so much, doll, you can’t even fucking imagine,” Bucky whispered before leaning forward to kiss you.

“I love you, James.”

“Can we stay here today? I don’t really want to talk with anyone besides my sweet and protective girl.” You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his teasing tone. 

“Of course we can, Buck.” That was your last word before Bucky lifted you off the ground, put you on the soft blankets of your bed, and climbed on top of you, happily wrapping around your body and falling asleep. 

[holylulusworld]

No (Bucky)

Summary: You turn down every guy trying to hit on you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warning: many egos get scratched, fluff

A/N: Read Steve's version here: Yes

“Hi, my name is Sam. I saw you from over there and wanted to invite you to a drink or more,” he says and flashes you a smile. He’s not bad to look at. If only he didn’t eye you like his latest meal.

“No—” you turn another man down. It’s a crux, going to a bar alone. Most of the guys won’t take no for an answer or show enough decency to leave a woman alone. You wanted to have one drink after work, only to get hit on by the next best guy stepping into the bar.

The man’s shoulders sag, and he goes back to his friends’ table. They pat his shoulder, telling him to not take it to heart. You almost feel bad for him. But only until the next guy from their table walks toward you.

Great. They turned this into a challenge. Watching the next guy walk toward you, you sigh deeply. This is going to be a long night.

“Hello, darling. Name’s Tony,” the next guy drawls. He’s older than the first guy. “Why is a pretty lady like you all alone at a bar?”

You roll your eyes. “Not to talk to a guy with a goatee,” you snap at the man to cut him off. “If you would leave me alone now. The answer is no.”

“Ah, you’re the angry kind,” he leans against the bar counter, eyes drinking you in. “Why don’t you join me and my friends at our table?”

“Sorry, I’m not into gangbangs.”

The guest next to you coughs loudly because he choked on his beer thanks to your reply.

You dismissively wave your hand, sending the guy back to the table with his friends. He shakes his head and joins the bunch of guys.

“Nice comeback,” the guest next to you chuckles. “Oh, here we go. You should prepare for the next one.”

“Not again,” you sigh and down your drink in one go. You tap the glass, ordering another one, while a tall blonde guy steps closer. He seems a little shy as his blue eyes search yours.

“Sorry to disturb you, but—” he clears his throat and points at the table with his friends. “My friends and I wondered if you want to come over and join us.”

You look him up and down. He’s very handsome. Tall and well-built, and his eyes are nice too. Still, you won’t give him a chance.

“Sorry, but no,” you say, smiling. “Maybe in another life.”

“Uh—thanks for your time,” he stammers and walks off. You watch him leave, sighing, as two more guys are at their table.

“Do you think the others will hit on me too?” You ask the guy next to you who ordered beer. He shrugs and grabs the beer to walk away. “Crap, no.” You groan as he joins the guys hitting on you. “He's one of them!”

The guys at the table start to talk louder. They wildly gesture toward the guy talking to you and then at you.

“Fuck no,” you groan as the guy from earlier walks back toward you. He left the beer on the table and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Here we go.”

You sip at your drink and watch him step closer. He flashes you a stunning smile, making your heart flutter. “Hello, doll.” He playfully says and winks at you. “It looks like I’m back.”

“Yup.” You pop the p and grin at him. “So, what’s your pickup line? Do you want to buy me a drink or offer a gangbang like your friend?”

“Oh, doll,” he purrs, and steps closer to cage you against the bar counter with his body. “I don’t share well. If I lay claim on you, you’re only mine.”

You shudder under his gaze. “Who says I’ll allow you to lay claim on me? I don’t even know your name.” He laughs at your comeback. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s funny that you don’t even know you’re already mine.” He cups your jaw with his gloved hand and looks you in the eyes. “What do you say? Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes.”

Steve, Sam, Tony, and the others watch Bucky wrap his arm around your waistline. He winks at them as you pass their table.

“What just happened?” Tony gasps loudly. “This can’t be! Cyborg-brain can’t succeed after all of us fail! How did he do this? How did he turn a no into a yes?"

You giggle and laugh as you run toward Bucky’s bike, holding hands.

“That was fun!”

"For how much longer will we pretend that we just met?” He asks while handing you the spare helmet he bought for you. “Doll?”

You place your hand on his chest and say, “I don’t know. Having a secret relationship has its advantages…”

Tags in reblog.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

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

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

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

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

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Fics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” you whispered, teeth chattering. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The floor then.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“I’m not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you seriously asking me that?” 

“Yes?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, thanks, Bucky.”

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

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

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

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

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

He felt sick. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s so fucking drunk -” 

“Absolute embarrassment -” 

“Can’t believe they let her in -” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was he still here? Fucking asshole. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah - what’s your hotel called?” 

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

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

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

“Sure.” He sighed. 

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

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

“Stay.” 

“I’ll be right outside if you need-” 

“Stay.” 

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

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

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

“Hey, you want another beer, doll?” 

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

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

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

“Hmm?” 

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

“Uh, yeah, thanks.” 

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

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

“Oh, yeah, fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll sleep on other sofa -” 

“You’ll share with me, right doll?” 

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

“Bucky -” Sam started. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You and Bucky stared at the two motel beds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right.” 

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

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

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

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

“I miss you too.” 

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

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

“Hi.”

“Hi, doll.”

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

“What if I want to?” 

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

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

“You do?” 

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

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

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

“Uh huh, I did,” 

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

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

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

“How long?” 

“How long, what?” 

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

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

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

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

“I guess we do, doll.”