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thepaperpanda · 1 year ago

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Everyone might’ve heard us - Bucky Barnes headcanons & drabble

Summary: a set of headcanons & a little drabble for drunk sex with Bucky

Warnings: smut (unprotected p in v), semi-public sex, drunk sex, female reader

Author: Fenrir

A/N: Today's prompt is: drunk sex.

Masterlist

Everything becomes incredibly heightened when alcohol courses through his veins.

Barnes may be a little more aggressive in his sexual advances.

Get ready to be thoroughly dominated and fucked mercilessly.

He's consistently forgetful about using condoms.

When he's drunk, Bucky becomes more interested in the idea of public sex - the mere possibility of getting caught red-handed is driving him wild.

Under normal circumstances, he can stifle his moans when you work your magic on his neck, but with the assistance of alcohol, he's a cacophony of pleasure - he’ll groan louder and more often.“Fuck, doll, you’re going to leave a trail of hickeys on my neck, aren’t ya?”

He'll thrust with unrestrained intensity, abandoning his usual caution as he seeks to pleasure you. He will be unstoppable.

Picture this: you both in front of a mirror, where he'll force you to watch how his thick cock slides in and out of your pussy. “You like that, babe? Look at that. My dick fits you fucking perfectly.”

And when he's inebriated, he tends to get a bit cheeky, chuckling as your body jolts because of overstimulation.

"Was that too much for you, babe?"

He's the type to initiate a passionate makeout session while you're in the midst of your fucking session, savouring the intoxicating taste of alcohol and your essence on your lips.

And here's a surprise — he'll want to experiment with your vibrator, using it to enhance his own pleasure, fucking your tight asshole with the toy while his fat dick is buried deep in your needy cunt.

Bucky's moans will reach a level of eroticism that feels like the very essence of desire. He’s going to sound like a fucking porn star.

He'll cup and squeeze your breasts like there is no tomorrow.

Get ready for ultra hard spanking, especially involving his bionic hand.

He'll deliver the most intense spanks while fucking your tight cunny from behind. Bucky isn’t typically into things that could cause you pain, but now he's gripping your hair like he's taming a wild stallion.

If you happen to be on top, of him, riding his dick, Bucky'll take control by gripping your hips firmly, rendering you immobile while he thrusts up into you with such force that you'll need to cup a headboard to prevent yourself from falling off; the sole sound in the room will be his ball sack slapping against the plush of your ass.

Bucky’s a fucking tease and he would rub his hardened shaft against your wet clit and folds first before sliding it on without a single warning. “Yeah, fuck, you’re so tight for me.”

“Baaaby, ‘m gonna cum inside of you, ok?”

The soft glow of candlelight cast a warm ambiance over the restaurant as Bucky and you sat across from each other at a cosy corner table. The low hum of chatter and clinking cutlery surrounded you, creating a perfect backdrop for the evening ahead.

You had chosen a dress that you felt confident and beautiful in, its neckline gracefully emphasising your décolletage. The deep, rich colour of the dress seemed to catch the candlelight just right, enhancing the allure of the moment.

As the two of you delved into conversation, you couldn't help but notice Bucky's lingering gaze, his eyes locked onto you. His usual demeanour was softened by a faint, appreciative smile, and his blue eyes held a certain warmth that spoke volumes. It was as if the rest of the world had faded into the background, and in that moment, it was just the two of you, lost in the magnetic pull of your connection.

_________________________________

Bucky firmly pressed your face against the restroom door of the restaurant, his hand gripping your neck, and his bionic elbow securing you in place. His other hand boldly explored your ass, while his lips trailed against your cheek. “So fucking sexy, aren’t you, doll?”

You trembled at his touch, a dampness growing bigger between your thighs.

Hiking your dress up slightly, Barnes cupped his hand over your clothed core, groping it, smirking widely as he felt how wet you were. Bucky purred, releasing his firm hold on you and withdrawing his hand from your pussy. With a deft move, he spun you around to face him. His hungry lips devoured yours in an intense, passionate kiss. As the heat between you intensified, your hands urgently worked to remove each other's clothing. Bucky's hand slid up, hiking the dress to your tummy while his bionic arm worked on the fly of his jeans.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, Bucky locked eyes with you, searching for any hint of hesitation and finding none.

His hand firmly gripped the shaft of his hard dick that was freed, aligning it with your eager entrance, all the while maintaining intense eye contact with you. He entered you at a tantalisingly slow pace, and both of you couldn't help but moan in unison. Your fingers dug into Bucky's back as you clung to him.

Barnes' hands held your sides, and he began a rhythmic thrusting motion, pulling out and pushing in, all while burying his head in the crook of your neck.

Both of you panted heavily, your nails leaving their mark on his skin, which only intensified his groans as he quickened his pace. "Fuck."

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he held you mid-air, allowing for even deeper thrusts, his hips meeting yours with a passionate intensity.

Intense waves of pleasure coursed through your bodies, leaving you both in a state of ecstasy.

Your silky walls tightened around him, causing Bucky's cock to throb with pleasure. His hold on your sides grew even firmer; you could be sure he'd leave bruises there.

"You feel so amazing around my cock," Bucky moaned, his Romanian accent becoming deeper as he peppered the crook of your neck with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. One of his hands wandered from your side, trailing up to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair and gripping firmly.

"Bucky," you moaned in response as he continued his rhythmic thrusting, and they grew faster and more primal.

The room echoed with moans, groans, and the sounds of skin slapping against skin, a cacophony of pleasure. Both of you were lost in pure bliss, completely unconcerned about the possibility of anyone overhearing or getting into the restroom to catch you both red-handed.

As a familiar sensation welled up in the pit of your stomach, you could sense Bucky approaching his climax. His thrusts grew sloppier, his bionic hand that had been on your left sides now moving down to where you were intimately connected. The pad of his metal thumb found your clit, and he began rubbing it in rough circles, causing your toes to curl in your shoes as your orgasm surged through you.

Barnes wasn't far behind, delivering one final powerful thrust before his cock convulsed inside you.

Your walls clenched tightly around him, and both of you reached the peak of pleasure simultaneously, filling the restroom with loud, unrestrained moans.

As he softened inside you, Bucky murmured a quiet, "I fucking love ya, babe."

Bucky leaned in close, his voice a hushed whisper, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "There's something about that electrifying thrill in my spine and tummy when I think about the possibility of getting caught fucking your cunt senseless." Bucky added with a cocky grin, "I'm pretty sure everyone in the dining room heard us."

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bcolfanfic · 4 months ago

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fork in the road please ❤️

Gale saw him in the reflection of the window before he turned his head. The other boy was taller than him, wavy dark hair that would have been meticulously groomed for naught in a few hours falling just above his eyes. "You savin' this spot for someone?" Gale shook his head. The dark-haired boy nudged his arm when he sat. "You talk?” "Leave 'em alone, Bucky," The shorter kid behind them said. "Not everyone's as chatty as you." “Was I askin’ you Crank?” The bus engine roared to life, and Gale wanted to look out the window, but he could feel the new stranger next to him staring like he was waiting for something. "Your name's Bucky?" he asked, quiet. "Yeah," Bucky replied with a grin. "John actually, but no one calls me that. You got a name?” “Gale, Gale Cleven.” "Gale, Gale, Gale," Bucky repeated, chuckling under his breath. "Hmm...we might need to workshop that." Gale hesitated at at the suggestion, annoyance and curiosity rolling around his head like two marbles. "Workshop my name?" "Yeah, 'cause I'm not callin' you Gale," Bucky elaborated. Gale turned to face him fully. "Then what would you suggest callin’ me?" He shook his leg against the floor as he took a minute to think, lifting his head when he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion. "How about 'G-Man'?" he whispered conspiratorially, waggling his eyebrows.. Gale couldn't help but let out a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "G-Man, really? Think you can do better than that." he said, crossing his arms, looking at him sideways. Bucky just looked at him, raking his eyes down his face and back up it. It made Gale feel small, somehow. In a way he didn’t particularly hate, or understand. "You know what, you actually remind me of a kid I grew up with named Buck." He said finally, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, nodding to himself. Gale huffed, bobbing his head side to side, throwing John a bone by appearing to roll it over. "Yeah, but you’re already Bucky, and my name's Gale.” Bucky just placed a friendly pat on his knee, Gale startling a little at the touch- hoping he hadn’t noticed. "Alright Buck."

#gale is 21 and bucky is 23 here btw #young vets au #clegan #buck x bucky

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jasmines-library · 1 year ago

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Just forget about it.

WHUMPTOBER 2023: Prompt: ‘conditioning’

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: As part of the winter soldier program, all you’ve know is how to kill. After years of being left in cyrofreeze, you are finally let out and are given a mission; to protect. You follow it to the t. Until a certain familiar face shows up to get you out of there. (I suck at summaries ok?)

Warnings: Torture, mind control, fighting.

Word count: 2.8k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

The room was cold, and you couldn’t see anything besides the white fog that rose slowly in front of your face as your mind snapped back online. It hurt too, as your brain began to receive signals again from your pain receptors, your body lit up like it was being stabbed over and over again by a thousand tiny needles. They dug into every inch of your body, burning in your veins. Everything seemed too loud; your thoughts which raced at a thousand miles an hour, the harsh tones of the men surrounding you, the loud clunking of the machines. It made you miss the blissful silence you had been engulfed in for who knows how long.

When the door to the chamber hissed open, and the cold clouds of ice dissipated away, you squinted at the bright light which flooded in. When your eyes adapted, you stared grimly at the man before you. He was all too familiar, though he looked significantly older. It was the face of the man who had tortured you and shaped you into what you were; an unstoppable weapon. He smiled darkly at you as you tried to move away, though you were still restrained by the metal cuffs that pulled you tight against the back of the chamber. You had been in this position before, but something was different this time. This time you remembered. You remembered the feeling of the harsh grip on your arm as you were dragged back into where you would be put back into a deep, meaningless sleep. You remembered the cold and then pain- tenfold to what you were feeling now. But you also remembered a face. One with hard features; long dark hair and firm blue eyes, but often with gentle intent. Something nagged at you that you shouldn’t be able to remember that.

The man stepped towards you, the shit eating grin still plastered on his face. “Hello my lotus.” He spoke to you, his Russian thick and unmissable. “Oh how I have missed you very much. It was such a shame when we had to put you back in cryofreeze. I have missed your pretty face very much, but not to worry. I have a job for you, my lotus.” He lowered his voice. “Let’s just hope we don’t have another little mishap. Hmm?”

He leaned down towards you and you took it as a chance to spit in his face. “You fuck yourself.”

He blinked, wiping away the spit from his face before turning back to you. “You are going to regret that, soldat.”

There were more hands on you then, freeing you from the restraints and dragging you through the room. With what little energy you had, you squirmed but that only resulted in a kick to the ribs to settle you down.

They brought you to an open room, industrial looking of sorts. It was large with machines for all sorts pressed against the walls. In the centre of the room, raised on a circular platform stood a chair. The fabric of the chair was torn and frayed beneath the harsh light above it. You writhed as the men dragged you towards it. You kicked and screamed like a child as you struggled to get away. The chair held too many unwanted, painful memories. When you were forced onto the old leather and bound once again by metal cuffs on your forearms, the familiar man stepped before you and grinned, trailing his hand along your jaw.

“Let’s hope you learn to obey this time, soldat.”

With that, he turned to slam the heavy doors to the room. You heard the locks whirr as they clicked into place, as he moved away into some part of the room that you couldn’t see from where you were sitting, leaving you with another man whom you didn’t recognise. He stepped forwards, ensuring that you were secure.

“Begin.” You heard from behind you.

There was a shuffling across the room, followed by a whirring of the machinery you were strapped to as it started up. Then you were consumed by a blinding pain. You let out a blood curdling scream, which ricocheted off of the tiled walls. Thrashing and writhing, you tugged on the metal cuffs. They dug into your skin and you tried to escape the pain that radiated in your head and raced through your body. It was a thousand agonies at once. When you thought you couldn’t take any more, the pain amped up. Your head pounded and your eyes burned against the light. Your fingernails scraped along the leather as your back arched. Blood dripped from your nose and your ears. You could taste its copperness as it spilled over your chapped lips and into your mouth.

Then, it all stopped.

Your body slumped back against the chair with what little energy you had left. Your limp body heaved for air. You swallowed thickly; your throat was raw.

The man slunk forwards from wherever he had retreated to in the room. Your body froze when the string of russian words began to slip from his mouth.

“Purify.”

You tensed, eyes wide as you looked around the room.”

“Brass. Hang. Illustrate.”

You thrashed, trying to cover your ears with your hands, but to no avail.

“Noiseless, twelve, evanescent.”

“NO! No..” You cried. These words would be your undoing. Once they had been uttered there was no going back. You couldn’t go back.

“Illustrate, beserk.”

“NO! STOP IT!... Please.”

“Connection.”

Your mind went black. No feelings, just the urge to follow orders. Thoughts, but no control or freedom over what they were. Your bloodied body relaxing in the chair. Thousands of memories of your training and your experimentation flooded your head. You raised your head to look up at the grey haired man. “Ready to comply.”

“Good. We have a mission for you, Soldat.”

~~~

Shoot, kill, protect. Shoot, kill, protect.

That was all that went through your mind and you slunk around the corners of the base. It had been infiltrated by a group of highly-trained superheroes. They were hardly subtle, despite how much they tried to be. Your enhanced hearing allowed you to hear their footsteps echoing across the halls. Pressing yourself up against the wall, you waited until they had rounded the corner. You were lingering only a few feet away from where Zola had locked himself away to prepare for his escape. You were not only guarding him, but also the files that he possessed. Little did you know that that was not all that the Avengers were hoping to find.

When the footsteps rounded the corner, you were greeted with a redhead woman. Before she could move any further, you had your hand wrapped tightly around her throat, pinning her against the wall. You narrowed your eyes, pressing your gun to her abdomen. She delivered a harsh blow to your stomach, which despite your strength sent you keeling backwards.

“I’ve got eyes.” She muttered something else into her comms, making an advance towards the room, but you grabbed her leg and pulled her to the ground. Her head hit the floor.

Scrabbling for your gun, you were up on your feet in seconds before another two pairs of footsteps reached the end of the corridor. This time, it was two men that rounded the corner. Bucky’s heart almost stopped in his chest when his eyes landed on you. He felt as though he was going to be sick. Mechanically, you readied yourself into a fighting stance. Racing towards you, they both advanced towards you. You ducked under the arm of the taller one before using the wall to propel yourself towards the other. The small hallway became a blue of bullets and limbs as the three of you fought. The movement of one of them was well placed. He seemed to know all of the counters to your moves. It was the red star on his silver arm that caught your attention. And that small distraction was all it took for the man to knock you down and plaster you to the floor.

As you kicked, trying to get a good hit in on the man, he studied your face. It flashed with recognition. Your piercing eyes would never leave Bucky’s memories.

“Y/n?”

You flinched at the small mention of your name, but your programming was too strong. Shoot, kill, protect. Your fingers reached for your gun which he had knocked out of your hands. Your fingers inched along the floor, but then there was a firm grip on your wrist keeping it still. You squirmed.

Bucky tried again. He couldn’t quite believe that you were in front of him. Your face hadn’t changed much since the last time he saw you but you looked older, more tired. “Doll?”

You stiffened. The name cuts through your programming like a knife in butter. His face came flooding back to you, some memories good, some bad. He was there when you were at your lowest, you were there when he was at his. The two of you had been together through thick and thin, supporting each other through what little good and what masses of pain you had experienced. You furrowed his brow, scanning his face. His blue eyes were still the same, but he looked different. Kinder. Calmer.

“Bucky?”

“Yes!” The super soldier nearly cried. “Yes doll. It’s me. It’s Bucky.”

He eased his touch a little as you melted against him. His touch became tender like you remembered it to be as he cupped your face with his non metal arm.

There was a commotion behind you. The sound of bullets filled the air and your programing shifted to the front of your mind again. With Bucky’s loosened grip on you, you managed to wiggle out from under him and scramble towards the open door. The other man had managed to slip away and infiltrate the room where Zola had barred himself in. You raced in, your finger poised on the trigger. You raised it, aiming at the offender in the room. Though something was stopping you from pulling the trigger as you so normally would under the soldier programing.

Zola frowned angrily. “Kill him.” He spat.

Your hand shook as your mind fought itself. One part of you screamed at you to just pull the trigger. The other, more sane part of you told you otherwise.

A pair of hands wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you away from the scene. You tried to fight against them, but also enhanced by the serum, Bucky’s strength was on par with yours.

“Get off of me.” You growled.

His grip was firm as it moved to your shoulders.

“Hey, Hey calm down.”

You tried to kick at him, but it was pointless.

“You’re ok doll. It’s me.”

You stilled, relaxing in his arms again.

“I’m gonna get you out of here Doll. I promise.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY EIGHT ⛤ DAY TEN ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

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ramp-it-up · 1 year ago

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Happy October!

I’ve done 31 days of Kinktober before, but ya girl doesn’t have the stamina this year. I do have some ideas for an October Collection that I want to share with you all. It’s not quite kinktober in the traditional sense, but definitely KinktoberMaybe, lol.

My #KinktoberMaybe Fic List ( so far) with Kinks is below the cut.

18+ only, minors, dni.

I may add or edit fics, parings or AUs, and will update this as needed.

Fics will be published on Sunday/Monday, Friday/Saturday schedule. Let it rip!

Football Season- Beefy Boyfriend Bucky x Reader Thigh Riding- October 1st

Greatest- Pilot!Steve x Publicist!Reader (Greatest Series) Edging, public sex acts

You Up? - Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Minx)

Overstimulation, manual sex, squirting.

To Renounce and to Claim- Bucky Barnes x DoraMilaje!Reader

Loss of ‘virginity’, size kink, oral, public sex

Sugar Cubed- You x Steve & You x Bucky (Sugar is Sweet Au) Voyeriusm, Cuckhold, Free Use.

Location, Location, Location-- Realtor Ari x Realtor Reader. Cock warming, Domination

Kept Woman - Surprise pairing Spanking, curvy girl kink

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emmafrostcovercollection · 1 year ago

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Devil's Reign #6 (2022) - Bagley Connecting Variant

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polizwrites · 2 years ago

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The Words Engraved Upon Our Souls

While Bucky has accepted Tony’s offer to build him a new arm, there’s clearly something bothering him. When Tony learns that the first words Steve spoke to Bucky - his soulmate mark - was on the arm he lost, he proposes a solution.

This is a fill for today’s @februaryficletchallenge Day 9: Soulmate AU prompt, as well as my @buckybarnesbingo Flash Bingo U card - Ultimatum and @stuckybingo O2 - Stark Tower prompts. Huge thanks to CoffeeOwl for an awesome prompt (see end of fic)

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing: Steve/Bucky, Steve & Bucky & Tony Rating: General Tags: Soulmate AU, Stark Tower, Bucky’s Metal Arm, pining!Tony Word Count: 986

“It’s ready.” Tony tried to keep his voice even; while Bucky had initially seemed interested - excited even - about having a new arm built to replace the Fist of Hydra, over the last couple of days, it seemed something had changed. Steve had noticed it too, but Bucky wouldn’t talk about it to him either.

“Okay.” Bucky rose from the couch and joined Tony in the elevator to the workshop. As the car descended into the basement of Stark Tower, Tony bit the bullet.

“Something’s bothering you about the new arm, isn’t it?”

Bucky tilted his head slightly. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

“Noticing things - and fixing them - is kind of my job,” Tony replied as they stepped out into his workshop. “So talk to me. Did I make it the wrong color? Shiny finish instead of matte? Steve already said I couldn’t give you switchblade fingers--”

Bucky’s soft huff of laughter was music to Tony’s ears. While he knew that Steve and Bucky were true soulmates and devoted to one another, Tony couldn’t help but be attracted to a man who had been through hell and kept going. It also didn’t help that his teenage crush on Captain America was threatening to come back in full force.

Things had started off rocky in both cases: Tony and Steve had butted heads on the helicarrier, and it had been difficult for Tony to learn the truth behind the events of December 16th, 1991.

But then Tony discovered the lengths that Hydra had gone to in order to erase the man Bucky Barnes had been and that they had never quite succeeded. It allowed him to accept the fact that the Soldier had been a weapon who didn’t choose his targets, and any anger or desire for revenge should be aimed at his handlers instead.

“It’s the words,” Bucky blurted out, pulling Tony from his reverie.

“What words?” Tony asked, confused.

“Me & Steve’s words - the first ones we said to each other.” Bucky took a shuddering breath. “When I lost my arm.... I lost them too.”

“I see.” Tony replied; then an idea hit him. “Would it help if I engraved them on your new arm?”

Bucky’s face brightened, just a little. “You could do that, couldn’t you?”

“Of course. Want them inlayed in gold, too?”

Bucky chuckled. “Nah - that’s too fancy for a coupla kids from Brooklyn.” He paused. “Could you trace over Steve’s handwriting?”

“Not a problem. Want JARVIS to ask him to join us?”

“Please.”

“You heard him, J,” Tony called out. “Page Captain Rogers to the workshop.”

Steve arrived a few minutes later, a worried expression on his face and a little out of breath; apparently he hadn’t bothered waiting for the elevator. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Stevie, “Bucky assured him. “At least not any more. Our resident genius came out with a solution to something that’s been on my mind.”

Tony felt his cheeks heat, even as Steve looked at him quizzically. “Bucky mentioned that when he lost his arm, he lost your words. So I suggested engraving them on his new one.”

Steve’s face lit up with amazement and joy. “That’s a fantastic idea, Tony!”

“I have them every once in awhile,” Tony shrugged off the compliment as he opened the case that contained Bucky’s new arm. “So, where exactly were they? It’ll be easier to put them on now, before it’s attached.” After Steve showed him the spot on the inside of the bicep where his words had originally been. Tony spent a few minutes prepping the metal surface.

Watching Steve carefully write out ‘Yeah - and I ain’t no kid.’ Tony couldn’t help but ask, “So, what’s the story behind that?” He winced internally, knowing that while some people were happy to explain their words, others felt them to be a private, personal thing.

“I was getting beat up in an alley, and Bucky came along and gave the bully what for.” Steve grinned fondly at the memory as he pushed his sleeve up to show off his soulmate mark, which read ‘You okay, kid?’

“To be fair,” Bucky shot back, a grin on his face as well, “you looked like you were nine instead of fourteen!” They argued good-naturedly about the details of that first encounter as Tony traced over the letters with an engraving tool.

Carefully wiping away the minuscule metal shavings, Tony felt a pang of jealousy, mixed with the pride he felt at giving his two friends (alas, only friends) a piece of their own past back. A look passed between Bucky and Steve; something fleeting and inscrutable.

“Do you remember the first thing you said to me, Tony?” Bucky’s voice was soft and touched with remorse.

Tony nodded in reply; Bucky had made a heartfelt apology, and he had simply said that it would be some time until he could forgive him. “I want you to put those words on my arm too,” Bucky continued.

“Why?” Tony and Steve asked at the same time.

“To remind me of the lives I’ve taken.” Bucky’s jaw jutted out stubbornly. “Don’t put that arm on me until those words are right there where I’ll see 'em every damned day.” He tapped the metal insistently with a stiff finger.

Tony thought for a moment; he understood better than most what Bucky was feeling. But he also believed he had a solution to the situation. “Okay.” He picked up the engraving tool, only for Steve to give him a shocked look.

“Tony, what are you--” Bucky blocked Steve from reaching out and interfering.

“This is my arm, so I get to choose what’s on it,” he growled.

Steve glared back, clearly ready to argue. “Hold on, Steve. Wait til I’m done,” Tony broke in. In neat block letters, he wrote ‘It will take a while before I forgive you'. Tony then went back and drew a neat line through the first six words.

Original Prompt as shared in the STB Enthusiasts Discord channel

CoffeeOwl ?prompt Soulmate AU: When Bucky lost his arm, he also lost his words. Tony builds him a new one and gives them back. (WinterIron, Stuckony or friendly favor for Stucky 😇 Ooooh maybe Tony does it for Stucky and then Bucky asks Tony to add *his* first words as well?

#writing stuff #fanficlet #FFC 23 #mcu/marvel #soulmate AU #Stucky #Steve x Bucky x Tony #Shameless Self Promo

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princessgriffin1998 · 2 years ago

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Specimen FX-23: Project Snow Fox // REBIRTH

Hello everyone!

I know I’ve been trying to edit my previous instalment to this series so that I can proudly present: REBIRTH. Part two of the Specimen FX-23 story.

I won’t lie, it’s been really challenging personally to write and have the bravery to post this, but I’m going to continue to push myself outside my comfort zone. I have quite a bit of the story completed, so I am going to do my best to see my story fully realized. I want to give a huge thanks to @maladaptivexxdaydreaming for always being so sweet to me and encouraging me to write, and I want to thank you for clicking this post and checking out my fun, zany lil world I’ve created for myself. I hope you enjoy the story and please leave your feedback in the comments!

This is a Bucky Barnes x Reader story with an AFAB reader and the use of nicknames (no Y/N).

Find the full story here!

Chapter Summary: After a few days with Shuri at the Los Angeles Wakandan Outreach Centre, Captain Rogers has arrived to bring you to the Avengers Compound.

Word count: 5.5k

RECOVERY / Next Chapter

Chapter One: Good-bye

“Good morning Soldat.” a man's voice greets you as you pant. The last of the electric current fizzled out of your system as your eyes finally unscrewed themselves and tried to focus on the technician in front of you.

“Ready to comply.” you respond breathlessly.

“We have a different training exercise for you today. New combatants. Get equipped and be in the training room in 10 minutes.” with that your technician stalked out of the room, the door bolting behind him. The clamps around your biceps and ankles launched open with a hiss and you shakily stood. You knew better than to be late as you made your way over to the metal lab table that held your equipment for the day.

You showed no emotion as you took in the suit in front of you. It wasn’t your normal lab clothing. You reached out a cautious hand to test the dark coloured fabric. It felt strong despite how smoothly the fabric flowed. You quickly stripped and changed into the suit, uncaring of the leering gaze from the scientists behind you. They only spoke English anyways and you hadn’t been able to learn enough to understand what they said about you while you undressed. You quickly slipped on the black socks and knee high boots left out for you. You secured your hair down the nape of your neck and away from your face as you glanced at the last item on the table. It was completely foreign to you. Slowly with your index figure, you traced over the smooth material of the item. You picked it up and turned to the scientists behind you.

“What do I do with this?” you called out in Russian.

You expected the eye roll from the man with the glasses; Doctor Nagel. Something deep in your gut told you that you shouldn’t let them know how much you could understand. Even though they rolled their eyes or got irritated with you, you never used any of the English words you had been able to piece together over… well, your whole life here.

“Silly girl. Can’t you see the ear hooks?” Nagel motioned his hands up to the sides of his head as if that was supposed to clear things up for you. You blinked at him till he threw his hands up and stalked over to you.

“Give that to me. Hands at your sides.” he commanded and you handed the item to him then pinned your wrists to the outsides of your thighs.

Nagel was your creator. You had no choice but to listen when he spoke to you. You’d tried to resist before, but found you were physically incapable of denying his wishes. No matter how disgusting they were. Nagel reached out and slipped the object around your mouth and nose, hooking the loops over your ears and securing what you assumed to be some kind of fabric fastening around the back of your head and along the nape of your neck. You could feel where it connected to the neckline of your suit. Out of the corner of your eye you could see your startling reflection in the lab window. Suited in all black up to your nose, your eyes glinting over the top of your new muzzle.

“Perfect. I think she’s ready for the Widows boys! Get to the training room now.” Nagel sneered and you raised your chin as best you could from under the muzzle before taking quick strides towards the training door.

When you entered the room, you were surprised to see another girl, but upon another glance around the room you realized there were several women, all similarly outfitted to you, minus the guard over the face. At the end of the gym, there were new men. They weren’t dressed in the standard lab clothing that your handlers wore. They wore suits with pressed pants. An older gentleman stood between several assumed guards, thick black glasses perched on his wide nose. He had silver hair that was slicked back and his left hand twirled a lit cigar. A ring flashed on his pinky.

“Soldat! Center of the ring.” your technician snapped.

You moved smoothly to stand opposite the young woman in the centre of the ring. She had warm, deep toned skin and piercing brown eyes. Her hair, a texture you’d not seen on any of the regular technicians that came to your lab, was twisting tightly in rows starting at her forehead and tracing down the back of her head to her neck. She glared at you and you clenched your jaw. She was beautiful. Your only human experience thus far had been the cruel men of your lab. Faintly, you wondered if she’d be allowed to live after whatever training was coming next.

“Gentlemen, welcome to the next phase of human evolution!” Nagel announced from behind you. You pressed your palms flat against your thighs as Nagel made his way around you, tossing an arm around your shoulder as he spoke to the new men.

“Today, we would like to show you the fruits of your money and our labour. Gentlemen I’d like to introduce you to Specimen 23 of Project Snow Fox.”

You startle awake, the dream leaving you in a cold sweat as you try to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding in your ears, a sure fire sign of a migraine on its way. Subconsciously you rub the back of your neck as you lay back down on your pillow, trying to breathe deeply and taking in the bumpy white ceiling above you.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, it hits you what day it is and you shoot upright in your hotel bed a second time.

Today is the day.

Any remaining traces of your nightmare vanish as you throw yourself out of bed and into the bathroom to begin your morning routine. Quickly brushing your teeth and securing your hair back and out of your face, you whip off your sleeping clothes and quickly change into an all black ensemble of cropped yoga pants, an athletic tank top with a sports bra underneath, and a black zip up. You make your bed and quickly go through your duffel bag again, everything perfectly folded and packed from when you’d refolded and packed it for the third time last night.

Today is the day.

Smiling, you slip on some black boots and grab a pair of aviator sunglasses. You put on a plain black ball cap, tucking your hair through the gap above the adjustment strap. You grab your backpack and adjust the straps slightly so that it sits comfortable on your back, giggling to yourself about the shape. Shuri had thought it was hilarious, grabbing the tiny backpack that looked like Cap’s suit. The two of you had snickered the entire time you were paying.

You quickly made sure you had all your important items inside the backpack; your music device from Shuri with your headphones, your journals and a pencil case of different pencils and fancy pens, a metal water bottle, a set of kimoyo beads Shuri had gifted you before your trip, and half a strip of photos from a photo booth. Shuri had taken you to a mall to get some American clothing and the two of you had stopped on a whim at a booth in the mall. Shuri had the top half of the strip and you had the bottom; two panels of you and Shuri grinning from ear to ear, almost spilling your smoothies on each other while laughing.

With a deep inhale, you take in one last glance at the hotel room that had been your home for the last week, before grabbing your room key and making your way down to the lobby to meet Shuri.

‘Today is the day.’

You and Shuri had been staying in a hotel down the road from the Wakandan Outreach Centre for six days. You haven’t seen Bucky or the rest of the team in nine.

After the fight in the lab you had been devastated. It had taken almost a full 24 hours for Shuri to be able to move you from your spot bundled up on the couch. All you’d had the energy for was quietly crying while Shuri rotated different movies for you. She put on all your favourites and brought you snacks that you couldn’t stomach and water you could barely sip.

You knew that Bucky might be upset with you for wanting to leave Wakanda, given that he’d been hiding the offer from you. He’d clearly not wanted you to move to America yet, and even though yesterday you had been hurting you had hoped that he still cared about you despite being worried about Hydra’s potential control. Obviously he just couldn’t trust Hydra, and you knew with his background that you would probably always be a threat to his family.

Maybe this was your fault too. You’d evidently read too far into his kindness. You’d been too unstable when you were first freed. Maybe he’d gotten close to you in order to tame you. Aside from Shuri, you didn’t have a metric for how much was too close to someone. He could’ve been a regular level of attentive and you’d misconstrued it.

Eventually after a day and a half you decided that your pity party needed to end. Shuri had already rescheduled some plans for the two of you because you couldn’t get off your couch. You still had Shuri, and even though you would be moving away from her she was still in your corner and so were Sam and Steve. You decided that you truly meant what you’d said in the lab. You didn’t need Bucky’s approval. You wanted to take the next step to better yourself and if he didn’t like it that was on him. Shuri had been surprised to see you up and about the next morning after two days of being almost comatose, but there you stood. Fresh from the shower, hair pulled back and secured away from your face, zipping up the athletic jacket you’d decided would be comfortable to travel in.

Oh and travel you did.

You didn’t think you’d ever tire of staring at the ocean. Shuri had let you sit in the cockpit of the jet with Ayo while she flew. The sun hitting the water had been beautiful, but the sun setting over the vast ocean as you made your way to America had been magnificent. Overwhelming in the best way possible. Shuri teased you mercilessly as you gazed out over the water for hours on end. After touching down in LA, Shuri decided it might be fun to stay in a hotel to try and help you integrate with regular society. It had been absolutely terrifying. Your nerves constantly telling you everyone who walked near you was a potential threat. You’d clenched your fists so hard in an effort to calm yourself your nails had broken skin. Shuri had gotten you your own room so that you could work on being by yourself, and that first night you spent in America you’d dragged the couch in your room in front of the door in addition to locking and dead bolting it.

Shuri had teased you about that too after making sure you were ok sleeping on your own.

You’d spent most of the week working in the Outreach Center with Shuri. It was a very similar routine to what you’d already established in Wakanda. During the day you had spent your time helping out around the Center, moving heavy things or just being an extra set of hands for the team and their work there. The Wakandan Outreach Center’s main focus was making sure that people of colour in the surrounding areas could have a place to go and feel supported. Most of the work in the Center was community based. Making sure kids could afford school supplies and lunches or have the resources they needed to complete projects and explore the advanced technology Wakanda had to offer. Shuri’s personal focus was encouraging girls to pursue science. The Outreach Center offered multiple different scholarships geared towards encouraging minorities to pursue fields that for centuries had been unattainable. One of your favourite memories of the week had been watching Shuri sign a cheque for a young woman to go to medical school. She and her mother, who’d previously been working two jobs to support them, sobbed tears of joy and you’d been honoured to see such a special moment take place. You’d added their teary smiles to your journal the minute you’d had some spare time.

Your hours in the Outreach Centre had not only been a fantastic way to work your jet lag, but also to watch people. Having your growth accelerated meant that you’d skipped on a lot of your developmental stages, adolescence, puberty. Here, you could just sit and watch all different kinds of people walk through the doors with their own mannerisms, subconscious habits, body language, and facial expressions. You’d learned how to read the different looks people give each other, the furrowed brow of confusion and how it differed from an angry brow. Most of your people-studies had come from Shuri and Bucky, so you’d always felt comfortable understanding what they meant when they spoke to you. With new people you’d learned just how much tone and inflection changed the meaning of a phrase. It started with trying to pitch your voice up when you made dry jokes because the people here hadn’t gotten your sense of humour at first. Slouching in your seat because you found people were freaked out by your robotic posture. So many things you learned while watching coworkers, friends, and families interact in the Centre. As you studied humanity more and more you confirmed to yourself that coming to America had been what you needed. You never could’ve learned all this from within your lab.

In the evenings when Shuri was finished with her team, the two of you went out and explored the city. Los Angeles was so different to anything you’d experienced in Wakanda. The insane hustle and bustle of the streets seemingly never ended. You and Shuri had explored malls together, you tightly holding her hand while the two of you browsed American fashion. The two of you had an absolute blast and Shuri promised the next time she came to visit you’d go to a theme park together. You’d been a little too nervous to make the trek this trip and your nerves were usually shot by the end of the day. Shuri had taken you to several beautiful parks, and the two of you had even taken a day trip to the beach.

You’d been a little too nervous to actually go into the water, but you’d plopped yourself on the shore and let the waves lap at your toes for hours. Shuri thought it was hilarious that you were so easily entertained, but staring out at the endless sea and sky was soothing. It made you feel completely peaceful and when you’d gotten back to your hotel room you’d passed out almost immediately. The jet lag probably wasn’t helping but with how many hours a night you slept normally you wondered if it even mattered.

After closing the door to your hotel room you made your way down to the lobby to meet Shuri.

The plan was to go to the Outreach Centre, where Captain Rogers would be parked with the Quinjet in stealth mode. You and Shuri had wanted to keep your arrival in America quiet. No need to alert Ross to another super soldier on the compound if they didn’t need to right away. You had listened in on Shuri’s conference call with the Captain and Stark, and by their tone you could tell Stark got a sick satisfaction out of hiding something from Thaddeus Ross.

“Good morning Foxy!” Shuri called as you approached her and the concierge desk. “How did you sleep? Good? Great! We’ve got about an hour for breakfast before we head to the Centre.” She grinned, taking both your key cards and sliding them to the receptionist.

Holding out her bag, you carried your luggage together in one hand as Shuri took your other to guide on the familiar walk to the Outreach Centre. An hour for breakfast really meant fifty-five minutes of goofing off in the IHOP across the street before realising you had five minutes to be on the jet.

The two of you were seated in your favourite corner booth next to the window that let you watch all the busy people making their way through the city. Shuri chattered excitedly about her latest tech project for the Centre while you counter all the exits in the building (One to the patio, a fire exit by the bathroom, one back door through the kitchen and the main entrance by the hostess podium), despite knowing them by heart after a week of breakfasts here. Shuri had wanted to come here one morning after seeing an ad on the TV. She’d decided that she’d never been so she’d treat herself and drug you along for some chocolate chip pancakes. After that she’d gotten hooked on everything the franchise had to offer and you’d eaten more waffles than you cared to admit.

The IHOP staff, to their credit, were absolutely lovely everytime you came in. They’d quickly accepted that you would always want a corner table where you could view the door, no matter how empty the restaurant was. They’d gotten used to your strange accent, a combination of Russian and somehow African while you tried to order your food in the morning. After the first few raised brows, you’d immediately begun correcting your accent to whichever variation of English was being spoken to you. Your American accent was fairly advanced compared to the beginning of the week when you’d arrived, but some words were always spoken with a bit of East African wrapped around them. The staff had also gotten accustomed to you ordering at least two meals, occasionally a third if you were having a particularly active day.

This corner was a particularly advantageous spot because you could see every entrance to the building, not to mention you could watch the breeze change to show the arrival of a stealth craft in the parking lot across the street.

“-it’s really something special Snow, I can’t wait for you to see it! Hey, are you even listening to me?” Shuri asked, poking your knuckles with her coffee spoon and startling you out of your surveillance.

You jumped slightly, finally tearing your gaze away from the window.

“My apologies, Shuri. I think I am a little bit distracted this morning.” you answered sheepishly, heat blooming across your face.

Shuri just snickered.

“Don’t worry. I know better than to take offence. If you’re worried about travelling, don’t be. Steve’s actually a great pilot when he’s not sacrificing himself for the greater good. And Stark’s A.I isn’t half bad. You’ll get to New Jersey in no time. Plus once you’re there you’ll be begging to leave Jersey and come home to me so everything will work out.” Shuri joked. You laughed despite not quite understanding why “Jersey” would be somewhere you’d desperately want to leave.

“I guess… I am worried they will not like me. I threw Natasha into a wall, and she accepted my apology but the rest of the team does not know me at all. What if they hate me?” You whispered, fidgeting with the handle of your mug.

Shuri just smiled and reached out a hand, clasping your fingers between her own.

“Listen Snow Fox, it’s ok to be scared of things. You’ve been through so much change these last few months. It’s natural that you’re nervous, but I just want you to remember all that you’ve accomplished so far. You’ve improved your communication, your memory, even your fighting. You’re doing so well and growing so much. I’m very proud of you and even if they haven’t said it, I know the team is too.” You could hear the message behind her words; Bucky was proud of you.

It’s not that you didn’t want to believe her, but in the six days you’d been in America you hadn’t heard from any of the team personally aside from Steve. Shuri’s music device also had a communication link, so he’d messaged you briefly when you’d arrived in LA, happy that you’d gotten there safely. Aside from a few brief conversations about your room and if you had any food allergies, you’d barely heard from him.

Bucky however had not reached out since your fight.

“Thanks Shuri. It is nice to be reminded sometimes, of where I started and where I am now. I’m just nervous they won’t like me. I know I am… odd to say the least.” Shuri just laughed.

“Well who on their team isn’t? You’ve got two 100 year old super idiots, a former KGB spy, a guy who cosplays Robin Hood for a living, modern-day Icarus, and a billionaire funding all their crazy. Not to mention a witch and an android. I’m sure you’ll fit in just fine.” Shuri grinned. As you smiled back and squeezed her hand, your ears picked up a large change in the wind outside.

“Ah, I take it the Quinjet has arrived on top of the Centre. Alright let’s pay up and see you off then!” Shuri smiled, flagging down your server so she could settle the bill.

Much to your server’s chagrin, Shuri pressed a $100 note in his palm as a tip with a litany of gratitude towards him and the team for being so kind to the both of you this week. She then stuffed another five of them in the tip jar on your way out. When you were royalty, unlimited money was something fun to play with, you supposed.

As you made your way across the street, you clutched the straps of your duffle bag so hard your knuckles turned white.

‘You can do this. You can do this. Steve is very friendly. You are going to be fine.’ you chanted in your head over and over, as if the harder you thought about it the easier it would be to believe.

You forced a smile on your face and waved at the workers in the Center as you made your way up to the roof. Most of the Wakandans and volunteers were used to your strange behaviour so you hoped your expression looked cheerful. You dropped Shuri’s bag off at her office, adjusting your bags and checking their contents for the 3rd time that morning before making your way to the roof.

Before Shuri opened the door, you both put your sunglasses on and she grabbed your free hand.

“Ready?” she grinned.

You did your best to plaster a smile on your face and the reflection in her glasses was almost believable.

“Ready.” you nodded, before Shuri threw the door open.

Watching the Quinjet come out of stealth mode was a sight you didn’t think would ever get old. The wind whipped around you briefly as the ramp descended, and a casually dressed Steve Rogers came to greet you.

“Good morning Snow Fox!” he called, a grin across his face.

You could feel the tension draining out of your shoulders as he made his way over to greet you.

“Good morning Captain!” You chirped happily.

Steve just rolled his eyes.

“Y’know I said you can still call me Steve right? We’re friends. Friends don’t speak so formally.” he teased, heat blooming across your face.

“Yes.. I-I forget sometimes.” you stammered, wincing at how unsure you sounded.

Steve however did not let that deter him.

“Well that’s fine. We’ve got a whole flight for you to remember. Good morning Princess.” Steve said with a nod to Shuri.

Shuri just snorted in response.

“What are we not friends? I already call you Steve, you can call me Shuri.” she said as the two shook hands.

Steve just smiled.

“Well, the Quinjet is pretty fast. It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so for us to get to the compound. I can take your bag while you say goodbye if you’d like?” Steve offered, a hand extended.

You nodded and passed your duffle along to him before turning to face your best friend. You weren’t sure what to say but luckily Shuri always had something to say and beat you to it.

“Well, you have my contact in your device and kimoyo beads. You can call me at any time. I’ll be about nine hours ahead of you, but if you need me I’ll answer at any time you know that. If you hate it you can call me and I’ll come get you, no questions asked ok? And I know you haven’t been sleeping well and I’ve already notified Helen Cho, the compound's chief doctor so she can give you something if you can’t sleep. Remember to update me on your training! I want to know exactly how bad ass my best friend is getting!” Shuri rambled, her hands wringing nervously in front of her stomach.

You could feel tears beginning to pool in your eyes as you threw your arms around her. Shuri inhaled sharply before wrapping her arms around your torso as tightly as she could.

“Thank you for everything my friend.” you started in Xhosa, knowing how much it meant to Shuri that you’d tried to learn as much of her native tongue as possible. “I promise to call often. I’ll send you so many pictures and videos of my training you will tire of me I promise. I want you to know that I never would’ve gotten to this point if it wasn’t for you.”

“I’m well aware.” Shuri teased, her words thick with emotion.

“Well you deserve to hear it. You deserve to hear that you are the most amazing best friend anyone could ask for, and if there is anything that I am grateful for in my existence, it is that we had the chance to meet and become friends. You have shown me kindness that I will never be able to repay, and I promise that I will do everything in my power to share that with the world. You gave me purpose, my friend. I swear to make your efforts worthwhile.” you grinned, pulling away from her you both giggled at the tears in each others eyes.

“Call me as soon as you’re settled in your room! I’m assuming they have a tour or orientation planned for you. So call me as soon as you can!” Shuri grinned, swiping at the moisture under her eyes.

You let out a watery laugh as you nodded.

“I will. See you soon, friend.” you smiled.

With one final hug you made your way over to where Steve was watching the two of you from the ramp. A soft smile graced his face as you turned to wave a Shuri one last time before boarding the jet.

“So how has your week in LA been?” Steve asked, trying to make small talk as the two of you made your way over to the cockpit.

“It has been… very busy.” you admitted, as you took off your backpack and settled into the seat behind Steve’s right side.

“Well that’s good! Lots of new experiences I’d ima- what is that?” he asked, pointing a finger at your bag.

You flushed under his sudden attention.

“Um.. .Shuri suggested I get a backpack and thought this one was funny…” you trailed off in embarrassment.

Steve just threw his head back and laughed.

“That’s great! Sam is gonna be so jealous.” He grinned and you beamed back.

“I would imagine he’ll be quite scandalised that there was no Falcon merchandise in the store.” you quipped, causing Steve to laugh even harder as he re-engaged stealth mode and began the launch sequence.

“Oh don’t even start. He’s such a drama queen sometimes.” Steve said with a roll of his eyes.

You smiled as Steve launched into an anecdote about Sam wanting to create merchandise for ‘Red Wing’, his robot AI that helped them on missions. Slowly the nerves set in as you thought about the rest of the team.

“Steve?” you started, the man in question humming in acknowledgement.

“What is the rest of the team like? I’ve only met Sam, Natasha, Clint, and… Well what are the others like?” You asked, unable to ask Steve about the one member of the team you were truly curious about.

“Well, Wanda isn’t that far off from you in age. I think you’re biologically around the same. Vision… Vision actually reminds me a lot of you. He’s an android so while he’s very intelligent, we all know there are some “human” things that escape him sometimes. He’s very polite though and head over heels for Wanda. The two of them are actually very sweet together. Burce, our team's previous resident doctor, is actually off the grid right now. We haven’t seen or heard from him in about two years. I’m sure you’ve seen the files on the Hulk?” Steve turned to ask and you nodded.

“Right, well Bruce used to have a really hard time controlling him. After Ultron, he took off. We hope that he’s doing better and that he’ll return someday… but after that there’s Tony Stark, Iron Man.” you winced.

“Are you sure it’ll be ok with him for me to come live with you all?” you asked in a small voice.

Steve just shook his head.

“You don’t have to worry about Tony. I made sure he saw your progress reports with Shuri before you even left Wakanda. Tony is very critical, but he’s not as much of an asshole as he makes himself out to be. He knows that you were successfully deprogrammed by Shuri and that you’re making a lot of progress, but not as much as you’d like. If he does anything that makes you really uncomfortable, if anyone on the team does, I want you to know you can come tell me. Not just as your Captain, but as your friend. We’re all here for you Snow Fox.” Steve turned to smile warmly at you and you offered a small smile back.

“We’ve got about forty-five minutes before we touch down at the compound. Any other questions before we land?” Steve asked.

You just shook your head.

“No, I am alright. I am mostly just nervous. I… I just really want to make a good impression I guess.” you bit out, picking at the skin around your nails since Shuri had worked so painstakingly last night to paint them to perfection for your first day with the Avengers.

Steve just smiled and reached a hand behind himself to pat your knee.

“Look, I promise that everyone will be thrilled to meet you. Sam’s been compiling movies for us to watch, Nat and Wanda are just happy there’s going to be another girl around the compound, and Tony might be a hard ass but I know once he meets you he’s gonna love you.”

You took in a deep breath, rubbing your knee where you could still feel the warmth from Steve’s hand.

“And Bucky?” you asked nervously. You hadn’t had the courage to bring him up until now.

Steve inhaled sharply, taking a moment to consider his next words carefully.

“Bucky is… complicated. I know you guys had a fight before we left. He wouldn’t tell me what about, but he’s requested some solo missions to hunt down a few Hydra stragglers so he’s not actually home at the compound right now. Do you.. If you want I mean- do you wanna talk about it at all?” Steve asked, his hand coming up to awkwardly scratch at his neck.

You huffed and smiled to yourself.

“Not at all, but thank you for offering.”

“Look I know it isn’t my place, but he really does care. Bucky has always been a “Mother Hen” if you will, he’s always been a protector. He had me, and a baby sister back before the war, and I’m sure he told you all the trouble we got ourselves into back then. He’s always been the man to protect his family, even if he maybe says some dumb stuff sometimes. I don’t know the details of your fight and I won’t push it if it makes you uncomfortable, but I do know that Bucky cares about you more than I’ve seen him care about something in a long time and I hope that when he gets back the two of you can work things out.” Steve turned again, offering you a hesitant smile.

You did your best to return it as you looked out the window of the jet.

“So, what kind of music have you been listening to this week?” Steve asked lightly and you sighed, grateful for the change in subject.

Steve reached a cord over to you and you beamed, recognizing the correct input to connect to your music device. Steve caught your smile and beamed right back as you went through your recently played songs.

“Well, Shuri and I have been listening to a new artist this week, his name is Stevie Wonder.”

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justiceiswater · 8 months ago

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ooof! right in the gut! what do you even do in this situation? just hope eventually a final decision is made? that buckys feelings will fade? add him to the relationship in a throuple kinda thing? its so messy and fills my heart with such fervor! im a little crazy about it!

Non-Sequential [Ch. 23]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 2,200

Chapter 22

“Hello?” Y/N answered as she glanced behind at Bucky’s hut. There was a part of her that didn’t fully believe Steve was on the other end of the phone call. After all, she had nothing but silence from him when she first got to Wakanda.

“Y/N? Oh, thank God.” Steve immediately sighed in relief.

“Hi, Steve.” Hearing his voice eased in a way she wasn’t expecting.

“Shuri got me a message. Are you alright?”

‘Shuri got him a message,’ as in she told Steve she had traveled again.

“I’m fine,” Y/N muttered. Yes, physically she was fine. But emotionally and mentally she was still shaken.

There was a beat of silence.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked carefully.

Keep reading

#non-sequential #non-sequential chapter 23 #pre serum steve rogers #pre-serum!steve rogers #pre serum!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #non-sequential series #marvel fic #marvel reader insert #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers reader insert #captain america x reader #invisible anonymous monsters #steve rogers x reader #invisibleanonymousmonsters #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #pre-serum!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers series #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers

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kbirbpods · 10 months ago

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[Podfic Link] | Length: 8 minutes, 35 seconds

MCU: Steve/Bucky | Rating: G

Summary: Now that Steve's a national hero, Bucky's having a hard time coping. He had always been Steve's hero, you know? He remembers all the times Steve had been a hero in his eyes, before all of this serum stuff happened. But how to tell him?

Notes:

For Voiceteam Mystery Box 2023's challenge The One That Got Away, I chose the challenge Wavelength from Voiceteam 2022!

The challenge was:

Create an audio fanwork that feels very you: maybe it centers on a favorite trope, character, fandom, performance style, etc. Share it with your team and explain why you chose it.

I'll just share with the world that I chose this fic for this challenge because: 1) I wrote the fic, which means it's pretty "me" by definition; 2) It was the second thing I shared to AO3 back in 2014; 3) I used a song from my Stucky playlist that I still listen to 10 years later; 4) It's all introspection, no dialogue, which is one of my favorite writing styles; & 5) The original end notes show how much I was a people pleaser because I was very "oh you can read this as not gay" when in reality... I was writing it so gay.

Stucky was like... My Thing for so long. It was the only ship I had for Bucky. I went on my friend's campus radio show to talk about Bucky in general but like... also Stucky. So yeah. This feels incredibly me.

#stucky #steve and bucky #steve x bucky #captain america #the first avenger #kbirb writes #kbirb pods #vtmb 23 #voiceteam mystery box 2023 #voiceteam mystery box #voiceteam #2024

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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 month ago

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Ghost’s kinktober 2024 masterlist ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

don’t like something? don’t read it! 🫶🏽

HOTD, MARVEL, X-MEN, OBX, PEACEMAKER, STAR WARS.

1. Breast worship, Aemond Targaryen

2. Thigh riding, Logan howlett/wolverine

3. Predator/prey, weapon x!logan

4. Gun play, Rafe Cameron

5. Mask kink, Adrian chase/vigilante

6. Glove kink, Kylo ren

7. Pussy slapping, Logan howlett/Wolverine

8. Lap dance, Aegon Targaryen

9. Sex pollen, Logan Howlett/wolverine

10. Pain kink, Logan Howlett/Wolverine

11. Interrupted sex, JJ maybank

12. Praise kink, Remy Lebeau

13. Jealousy, John B

14. Car sex, old man logan

15. Teacher/student, Scott summers

16. Corruption kink, Logan Howlett

17. Dacryphilia, Rafe Cameron

18. Choking, Anakin Skywalker

19. Stalking, Rafe Cameron

20. Corruption + age difference, old man Logan

21. Somnophilia, Rafe Cameron

22. Spanking + punishment, Logan Howlett

23. Breeding kink, Remy Lebeau

19. Boot licking, Kylo Ren

25. Virginity, Remy Lebeau

26. Biting/marking, Logan Howlett

27. Hair pulling, Bucky Barnes

28. Mirror sex, Scott Summers

29. Cock warming, Peter Maximoff

30. TO BE DETERMINED

31. TO BE DETERMINED

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bubblessunshinehoney · 1 year ago

Text

🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

A Dash of Spice and Everything Nice

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Mob!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 2,375

Summary: Every year you bake for the local charity event Bucky hosts- he might be the boss but he takes care of those in need-and this time you get some extra help.

Author's Note: This is for my ongoing Kinktober celebration and my absolute love for Mob!Bucky- he is one of my kinks forever. You all know how I love him soft and sweet but still in charge. Hope you enjoy, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰

Warnings: it's soft and sweet and fluffy and spicy, reader is sassafrass and Bucky loves it, baking is involved but he really wants to eat something else...o-r-al, p i-n- the-v.

Kinktober Masterlist 2023

Before the front door of the house even closes you hear Bucky’s voice.

“Wow doll face. Smells so good in here.”

He walks into the kitchen and you rush into his outstretched arms. He cradles your face in his large hands, letting his eyes wander over your features before slowly bringing your lips to his. The kiss starts out soft and sweet but in the next moment he has you pinned against the refrigerator, his hand tugging at the tie of your apron.

“Wait, wait,” you whisper along his lips. “I have muffins about to come out of the oven and bread that needs to go in.”

“And I’ve missed you all day,” he counters, giving you a boyish smirk.

“Mm, missed you too,” you purr, kissing the corner of his mouth.

You slip from his grasp and flit around the kitchen, checking timers and dough.

The timer goes off seconds later and you pull the muffins from the oven, checking their readiness before sliding in the pan of chocolate pumpkin bread.

“There,” you say with a contented sigh. “Now for the cookies.”

You’re reaching up for a measuring cup when you feel him at your back, his lips skimming the shell of your ear with his whispered words. “Do you plan on baking all night doll?”

An involuntary shiver runs across your skin and you lean back into his embrace.

“No,” you gasp, craning your neck to the side when his lips meet your shoulder and he trails kisses along your throat. “But these have to be ready for the bake sale tomorrow and a little help will make it go faster.”

He stops, his lips still pressed to your skin.

“Bucky?” you ask with a smile in your voice.

“Fine doll. I’ll help you bake but as soon as we’re done we do what I want.”

You turn in his arms and dance your fingers up his suit jacket. “Don’t we always?”

His lips brush yours before his kiss and he quickly has you in his arms, lifting you onto the countertop.

“Bucky,” you admonish, your voice hardly stern and instead breathy and desperate.

“I know, I know,” he groans.

He steps back and runs a hand through his hair. “What should I do?”

You giggle as you slide off the counter.

“First of all,” you say, sauntering toward him. “You have to take off some of these clothes. Wouldn’t want you getting any flour on your Dior.”

His eyebrows raise. “Think I’m going to like baking.”

You playfully roll your eyes even as you start to gently push his suit jacket from his shoulders. Once it’s off you carefully drape it over the back of the chair and start to work on his button down.

With deft fingers you undo the first few buttons, smoothing your fingertips along his skin.

“Do you want me to get you a tee shirt?” you ask as you continue, pushing the sides of his shirt open to run your nails over his abs.

“Do you want to get me a tee shirt?” he teases back.

“No.”

You slowly remove his shirt and hang it over his suit jacket.

When you reach for his belt buckle he stops you with a firm hand on your wrist.

“Doll,” he warns. “You expect me to help you bake after all this?”

“You have to. I can’t show up to the event without my baked goodies…what will I tell everyone?”

“That your husband spent the whole night fucking your brains out and you didn’t have any time to bake,” he states with finality.

You lift your eyes from his flexing abs. “And they’ll all be too scared to say a word about it but then I won’t raise any money for our charity.”

Your pouty lips are too hard to resist and he takes your chin between his fingers, dragging your mouth to his for a heated kiss.

When he stops your eyes remain closed, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you sway on your feet.

“We just have to make two batches of cookies,” you whisper, still savoring his lips.

Your eyes open and you continue working on his belt. Once it hangs loosely at his hips you unbutton his pants and then pull the zipper down, revealing his patterned boxer briefs.

You drop to your knees and start to tug each pant leg off.

“Fuck doll,” he croons. “You always look so good on your knees for me.”

You look up at him and nibble your bottom lip. “You’re not making this any easier, you know.”

“I’m not trying to,” he smirks. “And this was your idea.”

As you stand you glide your fingers along his thighs, reaching up to kiss him when you say, “leave your socks on. Your feet will get cold.”

He chuckles and adjusts himself in his boxers, the outline of his arousal prominent in the tight fabric.

“You’re worried about my feet?”

You give him a look before sashaying out of the kitchen and returning moments later with his slippers. When you drop them at his feet he slides them on with a wry smile.

“You’re sassy when you bake Mrs. Barnes. I like it.”

“Don’t get any more ideas and get over there and read me that recipe,” you say as you shake your whisk his way with a no nonsense look.

“Mm bossy too,” he hums.

“Yeah, yeah…” you mutter, playfully glaring now. “And you’re just letting me do it because you like it.”

“Obviously,” he replies, holding your stare even as the corners of his eyes crinkle in delight.

“Recipe Barnes,” you repeat.

He blows you a kiss and then peers down at the paper, squinting his eyes before bringing it closer to his face. His mouth opens as he turns to you but before he can even get the question out you have his glasses in your hand and you’re holding them out for him.

“Thanks doll face,” he beams with a knowing smile, then looks back at the recipe. “Ok so first we need…”

Once you have the batter ready Bucky stands behind you at the counter, his arms on either side of you while he mixes and you watch.

You wiggle your ass into him and giggle when he growls and pins you with his hips.

“You’re not behaving,” he states.

“Who said anything about behaving?” you ask and do it again.

He stops mixing and grabs your waist. “Doll,” he warns.

You hum quietly and take the spatula to continue, ignoring his groans.

“Is it time to taste test?” he asks as he slides his finger toward the bowl.

“NO!” you shout and slap his hand. “It’s raw!”

“Ow,” he whines, making you laugh.

“Ow my ass! Come on, let’s get these on the pan and in the oven.”

“Can I at least taste something else?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with mischief and his hands pawing at your leggings.

“After,” you answer, trying to stop the tremble of anticipation that runs through you.

When the whole house smells of cinnamon, sugar and spice you sigh in relief and set the timer for the last time.

Bucky stalks toward you and takes you in his arms. “Finally,” he murmurs.

You flatten your palms on his chest. “Not yet. We have to clean up and wait for the cookies to come out. Otherwise, they might burn.”

His eyes darken and he holds you in place. “We’re using the dishwasher.”

“Of course,” you say in agreement, your smile saccharine.

He loads the dishwasher in record time while you wipe down the counters and wrap up the cooled muffins and bread.

The cookie timer goes off and before you can get to the oven he has it open and is pulling the tray out.

“Cookies are done!” he says.

“Let me check them. They might need another two minutes.”

You watch the muscles of his jaw flex as he clenches his teeth but he moves away so you can look them over.

You inspect each cookie carefully.

“Now you’re just trying to torture me doll.”

“They’re perfect,” you say after another perusal. “And I have to admit that it is just a little fun.”

“Is it?” he murmurs as he carefully moves the hot tray out of reach and cages you against the counter.

“Mm hm,” you answer and pull his glasses off.

Your fingertips brush along his cheek and he captures your wrist, softly pressing his lips to your pulse before he kisses your palm.

“Thank you for helping me.”

He nods as he continues to kiss along your skin. “For you, always…now turn around.”

Your breath hitches at his tone and you do as your told, slowly turning until his hard length is pressing into your ass.

He carefully unties your apron and lifts it over your head then drops it to the floor. Your shirt follows, his knuckles lightly skimming your back as he drags the fabric up.

You tremble, goosebumps erupting across your skin at his feather light touches. He kneels and hooks his fingers into your leggings, his every movement deliberate as he peels them off and reveals more of your skin.

His hand traces the curve of your ass before he gives it a hard squeeze and bites down on your soft skin.

You let out a squeal and squirm in his grasp.

A low rumble of approval runs through him as he tugs down your panties, leaving them wrapped around your ankles.

He gently slides two fingers along your calf and then higher until he reaches your inner thigh.

“Bend over and spread your legs,” he demands.

Again, you do as he says, the coolness of the counter a stark contrast to your heated skin.

Long, thick fingers tease your entrance and gather your arousal.

“So ready for me doll,” he praises.

You push back, needing more from him but he smacks your ass, hard, and holds you still with a firm grip.

“That doesn’t mean you get what you want yet,” he simpers, his fingers gliding lightly along your folds.

“Buckyyyyy,” you whine.

His lips brush along your skin, tracing the spot where you thigh meets your ass. He moves inward, sucking and licking and leaving marks in his wake.

When his nose runs along your slit you wiggle in his hold, your repeated pleas filling the air.

He continues to tease you with soft kisses and kitten licks, just barely flicking his tongue over your clit.

With both his hands he grabs hold of your ass cheeks and spreads them, burying his nose just above your pussy so he can slide his tongue through you.

You cry out his name and grip the edge of the counter, rocking back onto his face. He slides one hand between your legs and teases your clit, just enough to have you chasing your release with a cry of his name.

You’re still trying to catch your breath when soft hands lift you from the counter and he cradles you against his chest.

His hands wander reverently, the skim of his calloused fingertips making you clench around nothingness.

“Fuck me, Bucky,” you whisper, straining against him.

He runs his nose along your neck, bringing his lips just below your ear. “Say it again,” he demands.

You lift a hand behind you and curl it into his hair, tugging him closer. “Fuck me, Bucky,” you repeat, reveling in his warm breath as it caresses your skin.

His hands slide over your curves and he grips your hips. “You have no idea what it does to me when you say those words.”

You lean into him and sigh when his cock glides through your wetness. He grabs your chin and turns your head, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet and languid kiss that only fuels your impatience.

When you moan into it, whining his name, he shifts and fills you in one slow thrust.

“Oh my god,” you breathe against his lips. “Bucky…”

All you can feel is him inside of you, his heated skin pressed to yours, his hands, his lips. He’s everywhere and everything.

He deepens the kiss, sliding his hand down to the base of your neck and squeezing lightly. He groans out your name, breaking the kiss and pressing his face into your neck.

“Fuck fuck, fuck,” he chants every time he pounds into you.

“More Bucky. Harder,” you whine.

Suddenly everything is harder and deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin mingling with your pleas for more.

You can feel the moment he starts to completely lose control, his labored breathing hot against your neck and his grip tightening as his cock thickens inside you. You finish with his name on your lips, your orgasm rushing through you, the squeeze of your walls taking him right over the edge at the same time.

His hips tense and he growls out your name.

You rest your head back against his strong chest and silently thank him for keeping you standing upright because you feel as if you could melt to the floor.

His hold is gentle when he pulls out and turns you around, his expression one of complete satisfaction as he studies you, catching your lower lip with his thumb. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Your smile is soft as you trace the hard outline of his jaw. “I could say the same about you.”

He chuckles and pulls you closer. “Nothing compares to you, doll.”

His hand slides up your back and he cups the nape of your neck, tilting your head back so he can trail kisses along your throat and collarbone.

“I can’t believe I let you finish that baking,” he whispers into your skin.

“Me either,” you giggle.

“I want more,” he murmurs as his lips find yours.

“I made an extra loaf of the chocolate pumpkin bread.”

At your deadpan words he tucks your hips against his, the feel of his hard cock making you gasp.

“There’s that sass again,” he tsks. “Guess I didn’t fuck you hard enough this time.”

“Guess not,” you mouth back.

“Good thing we’ve got all night then,” he simpers.

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989

#cloudy reblogs #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #kinktober 23 #jobean12 blog

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buckets-and-trees · 13 days ago

Text

Camaraderie

Characters/Pairings: raunchy!Bucky x curvy!female reader Word Count: 3.4k Summary: Meeting up with the impossibly hot guy from the thirsty to fuck dating app didn't turn out to be a one-time thing... Hooking up with Bucky Barnes wasn't healthy, and you couldn't quit the habit, but he's so good at what he does, you can't resist the itch for him when it needs to be scratched.

Content Warnings: modern AU, hook up culture/bootycall, established sexual relationship, explicit and rough smut, oral (male and female receiving)/deep throating, 69, vaginal fingering, some overstimulation, multiple orgasms, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, humiliation, degradation (use of "slut"/"whore"), use of "baby" as a term of endearment, praise, general dirty talk, cum play/marking, taking photos, aftercare

Author Notes: This is a follow-up to Parking Lot Chem, but can absolutely be read as a standalone and/or out of order.

Logistical Notes: My September/final offering for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo 23-24 using the ANTI-HERO and AFTERCARE prompts. I'm also submitting this for @steviebbboi's 200 Follower Celebration (kink prompts: oral sex, overstimulation, mild degradation, dialoge prompts bolded) and @mercurial-chuckles's SMUT-BER fest (prompt: marathon session).

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

You know you should never text Bucky Barnes.

Daytime you knows he’s horrible for you.

A relationship would go nowhere with him.

You know it. He knows it.

You’ve both been very clear this is only sex.

Dirty, late night hook ups.

The next morning, you’re always resolved that last night was the last time.

But you don’t delete his number.

He gives you space. So much space. There’s no pressure, and that’s one of the reasons you don’t close the door completely.

Sometimes he initiates a conversation, sometimes it’s you. It goes about four to six weeks like clockwork.

And always after midnight.

Tonight it’s you who sent up the bat signal.

YOU: Hey! It’s been a while! How’ve you been?

HIM: Not bad… How’s life for you?

YOU: Also not bad. I moved - pretty close to where you work, actually…

YOU: You working tonight?

HIM: Got a new job actually. Still night shift, but building security downtown.

YOU: Oh, that’s good though, right?

HIM: Better gig, better pay. Still bad hours, but our fun doesn’t have to end…

YOU: Oh?

HIM: Let me come over when I get off and I’ll get you off.

There’s literally nothing romantic about it.

But you’re aching for a good fuck.

And that’s why you agreed to let this man you’ve been hooking up with in the dead of night in a parking lot for the last eight months to show up for a bootycall between two and three am.

Because it was going to be so late, you told him where the spare key was, told him to let himself in, to come to your bed, and to wake you up when he got there.

The forbidden thrill of that arrangement gave you a bit of a second wind, but when you’d tucked yourself back in bed and done a bit of doom-scrolling, your eyes had eventually drooped and you’d dropped into sleep.

You stir a little bit as you are nudged onto your back, but it’s when Bucky starts in on aggressively groping your breasts, having immediately pushed up the silk camisole you put on, that you groan and come to.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness. Bucky's silhouette looms over you, his calloused hands cold against your skin as he roughly kneads your tender flesh. A shiver runs through you, desire pooling low in your belly.

"Missed these tits," he growls, voice husky with desire.

You arch into his touch, your body responding even as your mind struggles to catch up. Bucky wastes no time, his hot mouth latching onto a nipple. You gasp at the sensation, your hands instinctively flying to Bucky's hair. He bites down, just hard enough to make you whimper, before soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Fuck, Bucky," you moan, already breathless.

He releases your breast with a wet pop, moving to give the other the same treatment. He sucks hard, teeth grazing your sensitive peak, and you whimper. His other hand slides down your body, groping at your pussy over your silk shorts.

“You put these on special for me, yeah?” he probes, and you nod. “Such a whore, though,” he continues. So desperate to let me use you that you told a fucking stranger how to get into your house so he could ruin you.”

His words make you clench around nothing, desperate for him to ruin you just like you know he can. Bucky chuckles darkly when you mewl as he grinds the heel of his palm over your clothed clit.

"Such a needy little slut," he murmurs approvingly. "Bet you've been thinking about my cock all night."

"Took you long enough to get here," you whine.

He doesn't respond, just crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. His stubble scratches your chin, sending tingles down your spine. You clutch onto his bulky arms. His mouth is minty - either gum or mouthwash or mints popped at the last minute - but the rest of him just smells like sweat and faint musk. You doubt he even owns cologne. His body and the way he uses yours are why you don’t fight the itch when it flares up for nights like this.

Bucky breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck. He bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder, surely leaving a mark. You gasp, arching into him.

"Gonna use you so good," he growls against your skin. "Gonna fuck you 'til you can't walk straight."

"God, yes," you moan, spreading your legs wider in invitation.

Bucky hooks his fingers into the waistband of your silk shorts, yanking them down roughly along with your panties. The cool air hits your heated core and you shiver. Bucky's hand slides up your inner thigh, his calloused fingers teasing your sensitive skin.

"Already so wet for me," he growls approvingly as he cups your sex. "Such a dirty girl."

You whimper as he slides two thick fingers inside you without warning, pumping them slowly. His thumb circles your clit, building the pressure steadily. Your hips buck against his hand, chasing more friction.

"Please," you gasp, clutching at his muscular shoulders.

"Please what?" Bucky asks, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside you that makes you lose all shreds of dignity around him.

"Please give me your fat cock, Bucky!” you beg.

He chuckles again. “I bet you’re such a good girl in the day where everyone else can see you, but you crave this - you crave the depraved things I do to you in the dark. That’s why you’re so fast to beg for me already.”

You moan, and your body trembles with anticipation as Bucky's other hand roams over your chest, then grips your neck, rough and possessive.

He squeezes slightly, and you whimper. “Please,” you croak out.

He withdraws for a moment, but you bite back any sounds of protest as you hear the rustling of fabric, clang of a belt, and the pull of a zipper as he quickly sheds his clothes.

He sits back on his heels, looking down at you as you squirm, holding his thick, hard cock. You lick your lips at the sight, your pussy clenching in anticipation. Bucky strokes himself a few times with the hand that had been in your cunt moments before, spreading your wetness along his length.

"Don’t worry, baby," Bucky coos. "I'm gonna give you exactly what you need."

With his other hand, he grips your arm and pulls you down so you lay sideways across the mattress. You’ve only ever hooked up in his truck, so the freedom of space adds an element of mystery to what hell do with you, and you love it. He kneels with thighs on either side of your head, looming over you, and then he slaps your face with his cock.

You gasp at the sudden contact, and he hits you with it a couple more times. Bucky grins down at you wickedly, clearly enjoying your shock.

"Open up, slut," he grunts.

You obey eagerly, parting your lips as he guides his cock into your mouth. He doesn't ease into it, instead shoving himself deep until you gag around his length. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe through your nose.

Bucky holds your head in place with his thick thighs, his hips pistoning as he fucks your face mercilessly. The wet, obscene sounds of your gagging fill the room, mingling with Bucky's grunts of pleasure.

"That's it, take it all," he groans, pushing even deeper.

You relax your throat as best you can, letting him use your mouth with abandon. He leans forward, pushes your thighs apart, and buries his face in your cunt.

You moan around Bucky's cock as his tongue laps at your folds, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. He sucks hard on your clit, making your hips buck involuntarily. The dual sensations of his thick length stretching your throat and his skilled mouth on your pussy are overwhelming.

Bucky's stubble scrapes against your inner thighs as he devours you, his left hand gripping your hip to hold you in place. His flesh hand snakes up to squeeze and pinch your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through your body. You whimper and writhe beneath him, struggling to focus on pleasuring his cock as he rapidly brings you to the edge.

"Gonna cum for me, baby?" Bucky growls against your cunt, the vibrations making you shudder. "Want you to cum all over my face while I fuck that pretty little mouth."

You moan around him, the vibrations making him hiss in pleasure. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as he batters the back of your throat, but you don't pull away. You live for these moments when Bucky uses you roughly, treating you like you’re worthless, only a set of holes to be used, because you’re so tired of being good, of working hard, of over achieving, of living up to everyone’s expectations. The only thing he wants from you is your body, and it feels better than any guilty pleasure you’ve ever indulged in before.

Your orgasm hits you suddenly and forcefully. Your body convulses as waves of pleasure crash over you, muffled cries vibrating around Bucky's cock. He doesn't let up, continuing to lap at your oversensitive clit as you writhe beneath him.

Just as it becomes too much, Bucky pulls back, releasing your hips. He slides his cock from your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. Before you can catch your breath, he flips you onto your stomach and yanks your hips up.

"That's one," he growls. "Let's see how many more I can wring out of you before I'm done."

Without warning, he slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. You cry out, fingers clawing at the sheets as he sets a punishing pace. The wet sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room in the dead of night.

"This what you've been craving, sweetheart?" he taunts, pulling his cock out and rubbing the head of his it through your folds. "My cock splitting you open?"

"Yes, yes, Bucky!” you sound like a cliché porn star, but you know he loves it, and you don’t care about letting loose and going mindless and dumb around him. He doesn’t expect anything more from you.

Without warning, he slams back into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

You cry out, the stretch bordering on painful. Bucky doesn't give you time to adjust, he never does. He pursues a punishing pace, and now the headboard bangs against the wall with each powerful thrust.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Bucky grunts, his hips snapping against yours. "You always feel so good around me, baby. Such a perfect little cock sleeve."

His vulgar words send a thrill through you. You moan shamelessly, pushing back to meet his brutal thrusts. Bucky's metal hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise, while his flesh hand snakes around to rub harsh circles on your clit. The dual stimulation quickly builds the pressure in your core.

"That's it, take it slut," Bucky growls, his hips pistoning relentlessly. "You love being used like this, don't you?"

"Yes!" you cry out, beyond shame at this point. "God, yes, Bucky!"

He chuckles darkly, then suddenly pulls out. Before you can protest, he flips you onto your back and hooks your legs over his shoulders. He slides back in with a groan, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper.

"Wanna see your face when you cum on my cock," he pants, leaning down to lick a stripe lewdly up your face.

"Oh fuck, Bucky!" you cry out as he pounds into you relentlessly. The new angle has him hitting your g-spot with every thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Bucky's eyes are dark with lust as he watches you come undone beneath him. One hand wraps around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your head swim. The other hand grips your hip bruisingly tight as he jackhammers into you.

"That's it, baby," he growls. "C'mon, don't you wanna be good for me?"

You nod frantically, unable to form words as the pressure builds inside you. Bucky's thumb finds your clit, rubbing harsh circles that have you seeing stars.

"Cum for me," he commands. "Now."

As if your body is conditioned to obey him, your walls clench around him rhythmically, but Bucky doesn't slow his pace. He fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging it until you're a trembling, oversensitive mess beneath him. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes from the intensity.

"That's two," Bucky growls, his hips still snapping against yours. "Think you can give me one more?"

You whimper as he squeezes your throat, starting to restrict your oxygen.

Your head swims as Bucky's hand tightens around your throat, his hips never slowing their relentless pace. The mix of pleasure and oxygen deprivation has you floating, barely aware of anything beyond the stretch of his cock inside you and the pressure of his fingers on your windpipe.

"Answer me," he growls, loosening his grip just enough for you to gasp out a response.

"Y-yes," you croak, your voice hoarse. "Please, Bucky..."

He grins wickedly, releasing your throat entirely. You gulp in air as he hooks his arms under your knees, folding you nearly in half as he drives even deeper. The new angle has you seeing stars, each thrust hitting spots inside you that make your toes curl.

“Let's see how much more you can take."

Bucky's pace becomes even more brutal, if possible. The headboard slams against the wall with each thrust, and you hope your neighbors are heavy sleepers. Every nerve of your body is on overdrive, overwrought.

You're trembling, overstimulated and overwhelmed, but Bucky shows no signs of slowing down. His cock pistons in and out of you relentlessly, the obscene wet sounds of your coupling filling the room as he keeps you folded in half. You're vaguely aware that you're babbling, a stream of "please" and "fuck" and "Bucky" falling from your lips.

His hot breath fans across your face as he looms over you, steel-blue eyes locked on yours with an intensity that makes you shiver.

"Look at you," he growls, voice rough with exertion. "So fucking desperate for my cock. You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?"

You nod frantically, beyond words at this point. Bucky's hand comes down to rub harsh circles on your clit, and you cry out at the added stimulation. Your oversensitive body trembles, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

"Cum for me again, baby," Bucky commands. "Show me how much of a slut you are for my cock.”

He pinches your clit harshly, and you scream into another orgasm. And still he fucks you as you shake and tremble beneath him. He’s too big and too strong for you to do anything but take it.

He clamps a hand down on your throat again, and your vision starts to blur at the edges as this filthy god moves like a machine above you. The lack of oxygen intensifies every sensation - his cock pounding into you relentlessly, his thumb still circling your oversensitive clit, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

Just as it becomes too much, Bucky pulls out. Your legs fall clumsily to the bed, and Bucky moves so he’s sitting on your chest, straddling just below your breasts, and pinning your arms down to your sides as well. He viciously strokes his cock, grunting for a few more moments, before he groans and shoots his load over your face and chest, ribbons of hot, sticky cum hitting your skin.

You gasp and pant, struggling to catch your breath as Bucky's cum cools on your skin. Your body feels like jelly, utterly spent from the intensity of your multiple orgasms. Bucky sits back on his heels, still straddling your chest, admiring his handiwork.

"Fuck, you look good like this," he growls, voice husky with satisfaction. "All marked up and used."

You whimper, too exhausted to form words. Bucky chuckles darkly, running a finger through the mess on your face and pushing it between your lips. You suck obediently, tasting the salty bitterness of his release.

"Such a good little cumslut," he praises, his other hand trailing down to tweak one of your nipples, making you yip beneath him.

Bucky's weight lifts off you as he shifts to the side, his breathing also heavy.

For a moment, there's only the sound of your combined panting filling the dark room. Then Bucky chuckles low in his throat. "That was better than the truck."

You manage a weak laugh in response, still too overwhelmed to form words. Bucky reaches over and flicks on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow. His eyes roam over your body, taking in the full mess he's made of you – the cum on your face and chest, the bruises already forming on your hips and thighs, the way your pussy is still clenching around nothing. He rolls off the bed and roots round in his discarded clothes, then stands once he’s found his phone.

"Hold still," Bucky commands, raising his phone. You hear the click of the camera as he captures your debauched state. "Something for me until next time."

You should protest, should demand he delete the photos. But a part of you thrills at the idea of Bucky having these reminders of you, of looking at them and getting hard thinking about using you again.

He disappears into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm washcloth. To your surprise, he gently cleans you up, wiping away the evidence of your encounter from your skin. It's an unexpectedly tender gesture from someone who was just fucking you senseless.

"Thanks," you murmur, your voice hoarse.

Bucky just nods, tossing the washcloth aside when he's done. He starts gathering his clothes, pulling them on efficiently. You watch him silently, knowing there was no version of this where he stayed, and honestly you didn’t want him to. You wanted to sprawl freely in your bed and drift away into the few hours of blissful sleep you could steal before having to get up for work and didn’t want to deal with a morning after.

After hunching over and lacing up his boots, he stands, reaches for your hand and pulls you up and to the edge of the bed. “C’mon, get up,” he urges.

Too tired and bewildered to protest, you amble out of bed and follow as he tugs you along, leading you to the bathroom. He turns the shower on, grabs a towel and tosses it over the rod for you. He checks the water temperature, adjusts it slightly, then turns back to you.

He laughs, and you realize your face is broadcasting your confusion. “You’ll sleep better if you shower off the sex and sweat, baby.”

He steals a filthy kiss, licking slowly into your mouth, then ushers you into the shower. “See you next time.”

Next time. The words send a shiver through you, even as your body aches from the intensity of what he’s just done to you.

“I’ll lock the door behind me when I let myself out,” he says.

“Okay,” is all your exhausted mind and body can put together. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he echoes and smirks.

The hot water washes away the smell and grime of the debauchery, soothe your aching limbs, but they don’t wash away the memories of what he did, and you don’t want it to. They go into a collection of how he extracts pleasure from you, and those memories will tide you over for a while on some of the darker nights when you’re feeling particularly horny.

But he’s right.

You won't feel this way in the morning.

But there’ll be another next time, your middle of the night self will win out eventually, you’ll just put it off for a while. Besides, it’s due to be his turn to be he one to break first and put out the feelers for a bootycall.

You won’t say no.

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