#Bucky's relatives
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kbsd · 5 months ago
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you're gonna dance with me before this night is through
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meyerlansky · 7 months ago
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did a little findagrave/ancestry digging and putting what i found here for my own reference/characterization, but if anyone else finds it useful, have at it:
curt had three younger sisters, and the closest to him in age died at age 2, when he was 3, and a brother five years younger than him; his mom survived him but his father died when he was 11. he's also the oldest of the three flyboys, born in april 1915. i personally am using the nyc adaptational change, but historically he was already out in san francisco by 1928, and the 1930 census lists him living with his aunt and uncle. so that's. interesting. 🤨🤨🤨
bucky had one older sister and one younger sister [*farquadpointing.png* MIDDLE CHILD!!!]; his mom also survived him and his father died in '42. born in sept 1915, so five months younger than curt, three years older than gale.
gale had a younger sister but it's a ten-year gap so imo he was a Functional Only; both his parents were alive through the war, no idea if the abusive-dad stuff is adaptational or based in reality but like it informs the adaptation characterization SO MUCH that one can't really ignore it and therefore it kinda doesn't matter! the babiest, born in dec 1918.
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pandagirl45 · 13 days ago
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Oh Tony, you sign so much goth nerd, into rock. Like there is something amazing about this combination. He was forced to be a new york darling. A Manhattan Sweetheart.
Really, he sometimes lounges in Gothic clothes watching another run of Vanhelsing or Dracula. Hell, maybe even Hellraiser (my personal favorite). He might even just be binge listening to The Voidz, 8 Graves, or something.
He traded black for red a d the silver for gold. Until he sees Bucky with his black and gold arm, and Tony gets that itch. If he starts wearing a little more Gothic type of clothing, if he starts being more lax in his style, if he starts rocking the platforms or boots. If he just so happens to match that arm, Bucky might find a reason to stay around longer.
Much longer.
Rhodey is surprise it took this long for tony to return back to his roots, even as he is helping Tony with hoop earring collection.
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excelsiorfics · 10 months ago
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Watch the Flowers Go
Date: 09 Apr 2012 Author: Al_Montag Rating: Gen Word Count/Status: 8181, complete Dynamic: Invaders Team Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Jim Hammond, Namor the Sub-Mariner, Toro Raymond Tags: Wartime Setting, Goodbyes, Fear of Death
Summary: The Invaders are split up for the first time and Bucky isn't sure how to say what could be his last good bye to Toro and the others.
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qtipshelmetflower · 10 months ago
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brain is rotting. had to write notes abt the industrial rev today, heard “guglielmo marconi” and INSTANTLY thought of mota.. it was NOT a natural reaction bro my head shot up almost before anybody said his name
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cowboylikeyouu · 4 months ago
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someone pls remind me to always exclude main character death when looking for winterhawk fics lmao i just scrolled past a bucky-grief fic after clint‘s suicide and just the thought of it made me cry 😻
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daydreamerdrew · 1 year ago
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New Avengers: The Reunion (2009) #1
#this made me think of Bucky and Natasha’s relationship#obviously both of them had the experience of being brainwashed#but Natasha was never frozen like Bucky was- so despite having been born around the same time#she’s actually lived significantly longer than he has#we see them get back together on the basis of their past and the fact that they both remember it#but they don’t quite jump into the relationship#the first time Natasha kisses him in this second chance they’ve gotten is after they’ve been working as partners for a little bit#so they’ve gotten to know each other again as who they are in the modern day#it’s notable to me that Bucky and Natasha’s first relationship happened relatively early on in Bucky’s career as the Winter Soldier#before he’d really been frozen and unfrozen that much#they have this history that is significant but it’s really in a brief window in both of their respective times as controlled soldiers#they didn’t actually experience personally the majority of what each other went through#and when they get back together in the modern neither of them are the same person they were when they first were together#inherently- due to the amount of time that they were separated and all that they experienced in that time#also I don’t think Natasha would ever be dismissive of Bucky’s experience#because of the time that he spent frozen and not actively feeling guilty#the way that Clint is in these panels here#how mature Bucky is here makes me think that off-panel Natasha and Bucky actually had serious direct conversations about this stuff#it is unfortunate to me that we didn't get to see them hashing stuff out on-panel#marvel#clint barton#bucky barnes#my posts#comic panels
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fandomfluffandfuck · 2 years ago
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I don't get it whenever AU fics make Steve and/or Bucky rich and wealthy, as if one of their key characterizations isn't that they came from nothing, especially Steve being the orphaned only son of an Irish immigrant at a time in the US when that was discriminated against, and how the mindset of their upbringing informs their characterization after becoming legends.
Whenever fics make an AU where one or both are just random stinking rich guys with a completely different famous rich guy personality, it feels like how the MCU's "Peter Parker" isn't a working class kid from Queens as is instead a Stark Industries trust fund baby. So many superheroes being poor is an important facet of their characters, so why are fans afraid of broke heroes?
I get why you wouldn't enjoy that--especially if Steve and/or Bucky are the type of wealthy where it's generational wealth that passes down as opposed to becoming rich later in life due to the (nonreal) "American Dream"--but I also understand that to some degree, for some people, Steve and Bucky are characters that meet over and over again no matter the time period, no matter the universe, no matter what. So it's fun to put them in all different circumstances to see them come together again. True love. Soul mates. It's also fun to tell stories with these fascinating characters in all different circumstances, some of which negate different social locations or different upbringing. It does change who they are to some degree, yeah. That is unavoidable. Personally, when I do read those types of AUs, I think it's just a different shade of Bucky or Steve. And no one has to like those shades or has to accept them as the characters in their "true" form. That's fine. Just try not to interact with those forms of fandom content if it's not your thing, no biggie.
I do have to say, though, yeah, the MCU making Peter Parker into Tony Start 2.0 is really disappointing when you compare him to the comic book iterations of Peter Parker.
As far as fans being "afraid" of broke characters, I don't think it's fear as much as it's social conditioning--we live in a capitalist hellscape. Money is survival. Money is seen as the ultimate goal, especially in the United States. Sure, money can't bring you ultimate happiness, but money can solve a lot of day-to-day problems and even year-to-year stresses and make you happier than you might be when you don't have money. Escaping those problems by providing characters in a fictional world that resembles the real world (re: a capitalist Western world) with wealth is a comfort. It's something that you might like to have to have happiness or comfort but might not be able to reach otherwise. Plus, saying a character is rich can provide a magic explanation for why they can afford dream-like vacations or time off work (or no work at all) or whatever good circumstances they're set in. Also, money is everywhere yet so secretive, too. It's hard not to wonder how the 1% live or fantasize about how they might live.
There are plenty of reasons to make characters rich in the same way there are plenty of reasons to make characters poor. Like, it's exhausting to be financially unstable; so, it might be cathartic to have a character go through that exhaustion in fiction sometimes, but it can also be draining to experience that then write about it. And that exhaustion and experience can motivate characters in certain directions. Etc.
Those are just my thoughts, though 🤷🏻‍♂️
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01army · 2 months ago
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also consider this a shipping call !
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the-starry-seas · 1 year ago
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i just realised every time i get attached to a canon i give them anxiety in my fics there are literally no exceptions to that
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jobean12-blog · 18 days ago
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Birds of a Feather
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (friends to lovers)
Word Count: 2.5K
Summary: You have to attend a close relative's wedding and there's no one better to bring than your best friend, Bucky.
Author's Note: Seeing so much of happy Seb lately-and looking so good-made me want to write something sexy and fluffy so here we are. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thanks Daisy!🥰
Warnings: soft and sweet, tense and flirty, Bucky is the best in every way!
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‘Come on up. Room 322.’
His thumbs hang limply over the phone screen, his brain going blank.
When he sent the text ten seconds earlier to let you know he’s arrived he figured you would meet him down in the lobby or at the hall.
Meeting you in the hotel room is a problem he anticipated when he gave himself a pep talk before leaving.
“She’s your best friend. Don’t do anything stupid…like go to the hotel room.”
His fingers finally start to move over the letters. ‘I can meet you down here…’
But maybe you need help with something?
He deletes the text, now typing, ‘is there anyone with you?,’ but that just sounds weird and possessive.
‘I can see you typing,’ you text. ‘Just come up. I need help.’
With a laugh, he deletes everything again and types simply, ‘be right there doll.’
His long legs carry him quickly to the elevator and when he presses the button for the third floor he takes a deep breath, his pulse climbing it’s way up his throat.
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The door to your room is propped open with the dead bolt, but he knocks anyway.
“Come in Buck!”
Pushing it open just enough to peek his head in, he calls out, “I could be anyone, and you just invite me in without checking!”
“You just texted me you were coming up,” you sing from the bathroom, quickly continuing before he can say more, “and most of the people on his floor are friends or relatives here for the wedding.”
“Well, I’m glad to know you take your safety as seriously as I do,” he shouts back.
Your voice gets louder as you walk into the bedroom. “With you around I never have to worr…”
You stop for a breath when you see him, but your next words are lost to the blank void of his brain as he takes in your dress and how you look in it. To put it simply- stunning.
“Bucky?”
He startles, having no idea how long he’d been silent.
“Yeah doll…that’s…I’m here.”
When he finally drags his eyes to your face, you’re fighting a smile. “I asked if you could help me?”
“Oh, right. Sure. With what exactly?”
He cringes but steps closer.
“My dress?”
You turn around to show him the fabric at the back that hangs open, a tiny zipper dangling down at your lower back.
Trying to suppress a groan, but not being entirely successful he swallows hard. “That zipper looks very tiny.”
“It is,” you agree. “I realize I should have asked someone with smaller hands to help me out, but everyone is running around with their own nonsense so here we are.”
He approaches with a casual, “sure, of course doll.”
But then he does something without fully realizing it until the shiver runs along your back: he drags a knuckle down the curve of your spine.
You turn and look at him over your shoulder.
He just blinks and looks down to grab the zipper, mumbling about how small it is.
It’s quiet as he carefully pulls the zipper up and when he reaches the top he lets it fall and gently runs a finger along the top of the dress as he moves around to look at you.
“All set,” he whispers.
You smile and clear your throat before giving him an appreciative once over.
“You look hot.”
“Thanks doll. You…” and he struggles when his voice comes out a bit strangled, “you look breathtaking.”
You reach up and touch his bow tie, pulling at the neatly tied ends as you tell him, “I was hoping you’d arrive a flustered mess over how to tie this so I could do it for you.”
With a grin, he reaches up and tugs the end, untying it in a smooth pull.
“Figure you should do something in return after I battled that zipper,” he teases.
Still smiling, you take a hold of the tie, tugging it to align the ends evenly around his neck. “I didn’t get the impression it was such a hardship.”
His answering smirk is so telling you have to stifle a laugh.
“Are you feeling ready for this? I know these big events aren’t your favorite.”
“I’ll manage just fine doll, thanks. Besides, I’ve got the most beautiful date in the whole place.”
With your focus still on his bow tie he takes the opportunity to openly stare. When you smile at his sweet words he’s mesmerized by the way your soft lips part and his eyes stay glued to your mouth.
You look up to meet his gaze and he quickly lifts his eyes, a light pink sweeping across his cheeks.
You blink away and he looks down at your hands, noting the very little progress you’ve made.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“Well…yes. I’m sure I can…”
“You’ve never done this before, have you?”
“You might be right!,” you quip, “but I’m no quitter.”
He’d be happy to stand there all night.
You finally step back, surveying your work, and frown. “I’m going to be honest, not sure I made it look as good as you did.”
He looks down and undoes the mess and you glower as he handily fixies it.
“Wow, no need to gloat you butthead.”
He lets out a full-bodied laugh, eyes crinkled, and nose scrunched, and you enjoy the sight before he explains, “I’ve done it a million times. I’m always the one in the tux when we go undercover.”
“That’s because you’re the one that looks the best.”
“Thanks doll,” he answers quietly.
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“There are so many people here,” you whisper as you lead him through the crowd in the hall.
He let’s out a low whistle, nodding in agreement and aking in the décor.
You greet people as you walk, introducing Bucky to those that don’t already know him. Their eyes follow you, curiosity piqued in their expression as they wonder who he is to you.
You wonder the same. Your favorite person in the world. Your best friend…and so much more?
You take his elbow and guide him forward toward the outside set up where the ceremony will take place. On the way you find your grandmother and introduce him.
Since he can’t take his eyes off you he notices the subtle shift in your demeanor, the softening of your face and the adoration in your eyes.
He expects a gentle handshake but instead gets pulled in for a hug.
“Oh darling, isn’t he a sight,” you grandma says, patting Bucky’s cheek. “And you,” she says, turning her eyes your way. “Gorgeous.”
“Thanks grandma,” you beam.
A woman whizzes by, catching your eye and pointing to her watch.
“Looks like it’s time,” you announce.
Bucky holds out one arm for your grandma and the other for you.
“And a gentleman too,” your grandma gushes as she loops her arm through his. “Definitely a keeper.”
“You can keep grandma company,” you say as you approach the chairs.
“Of course, doll,” he says and leans in to kiss your cheek before helping your grandma into her seat.
“I’ll see you after the ceremony.” You gather your dress and turn to head back inside to meet the wedding party. “Miss me,” you call over your shoulder with a playful smile.
He stares as you walk away, quietly admitting, “I already do.”
Slight nerves take over when you hear the music start but the moment you walk out into the crowd your eyes zero in on Bucky. And what do you know? He’s looking right back at you…and he doesn’t take his eyes off you the whole ceremony.
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After the ceremony it takes forever to work your way through the crowd to him, and in between catching up with friends and family or directing someone somewhere, you catch glimpses of him smiling and laughing with your grandma and happily keeping her company.
When you finally do reach him, your grandma has been safely escorted to her seat and now a woman hangs off his arm- Jessica. You know her, an old family friend, and you like her well enough, but you step up behind them right as she asks Bucky if she can steal him for the first dance, and your stomach drops.
You jerk to a stop. He hasn’t seen you. He should accept. You’ll hate it, but you’re not in any position to protest.
But then Bucky says only a gentle, “sorry, no can do. Tonight, I’ve only got one dance partner.”
Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest, and you step closer, swallowing down the emotion.
“Hey you two!”
Bucky turns, extracting his arm from Jessica and setting a warm palm at your lower back.
“And here she is. My favorite dancing partner.”
Jessica leans around from his other side and says hello.
“Thanks for coming,” you tell her.
“Oh my god, of course. I wouldn’t miss it. And I was just meeting your friend, James, here.”
She emphasizes the word friend and at her usage of his real name you have to hold back a giggle.
“Isn’t he wonderful,” you hum, sliding your hand up his bicep. “He’s been keeping my grandmother company this whole time.”
She swoons and smiles at Bucky before turning back to you.
“He is. I just wasn’t expecting you to have a date. You’re usually always flying solo at these family events.”
You feel the smile slipping from your face and an uncomfortable laugh escapes.
The simple answer never comes to you, and you feel caught like a deer in the headlights.
“Actually, that’s only because I was away for work,” Bucky steps in smoothly. “I hate to miss any chance to be her date, but my schedule can be pretty demanding sometimes.”
“Oh, you’re so sweet,” Jessica says. “Work is important of course.”
“Yeah,” he answers, “but not as important as her. So, from now I won’t be missing another event.”
Jessica’s face does a thing. It’s a barely restrained, ‘oh okay, I see.’
Bucky’s smile remains but it doesn’t look entirely natural anymore but when he looks at you, every emotion on his face is genuine.
“Ready to find our seats doll face,” he asks you.
“Sure,” you reply.
“Well, it was nice to meet you Jennifer. Enjoy the party.”
With a firm hand, he leads you away. You allow yourself to be guided up the grassy path and indoors to where a band plays. Bucky grabs you two flutes of champagne off a passing tray and hands you one.
“That was swoony,” you tell him then take a sip.
“All I did was grab it from a tray doll. Time to raise your bar a bit.”
Laughing, you smack his beefy shoulder with your free hand. “Not that! The way you gently let Jennifer have it back there.”
He takes a sip, eyes on you. “She deserved worse, but I didn’t want to start trouble.”
With your brow raised you match his mischievous grin then you take his glass and set it down on one of the small tables, leading him to the dance floor.
He looks confused at first but when your hands slide up his chest and around his neck he circles his arms around your waist.
He relaxes against you, hands warm and strong on your lower back and you rest your cheek to his shoulder.
“You’re always so comfy.”
“Thank you.”
“And you always look out for me.”
He presses a kiss to your temple.
“Of course, doll.”
“You’re my favorite person in the Universe.”
He doesn’t respond at first, not for five or ten or thirty seconds. You keep waiting for the feeling of rejection in his silence but instead it feels like an agreement and finally his words confirm it.
“Mine too, doll.”
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Your quiet slow dance is the last moment alone you have for the next few hours because what follows is a whirlwind of a reception.
And the whole time he can’t take his eyes off you.
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“Think I’m ready to get out of here,” you say as you slump against his side.
He carefully holds you up as he stands and reaches to take your hand.
“Come on doll face. I’ll take you home.”
When you reach your apartment door your feet are aching, and your legs are tired. You retrieve your key from the hidden pocket in your small purse and slide it into the doorknob.
“I’m going to need you to unzip me,” you say, gesturing casually to your dress.
His silence makes you slowly turn around to face him and when you meet his eyes they’re heavy with heat and desire.
“Bucky?”
“Turn back around,” he says gruffly.
You do as your told and feel his exhaled puff of air against your bare shoulder before he takes your wrists in this hands and places your palms flat against the door. His metal fingers slide down one arm then trace the curve of your shoulder, while his other toys with the small zipper.
He starts to pull it down, so slowly, you feel every brush of his skin against yours and it sends a tremble across your body. For every new inch of your skin that he exposes his breath quickens. You can feel the heat of him so close and your fingers press into the hard wood of the door.
Once the fabric hangs loosely at the sides he stops and slips his hands inside to your waist and turns you back to face him.
“You’re so soft,” he murmurs. “I…”
You drag your fingers along his temple and down his jaw. Your finger falls to his bottom lip, tracing it’s outline.
You can see it in his eyes, the understanding that everything between you is easy and you don’t have to try. It’s too good.
Your gaze drops to his lips again and your mouth goes soft. “Kiss me Bucky.”
The words are just barely out of your mouth and he’s already leaning in, lips on yours, warm and urgent, his hands rising to cup your face. Your instincts send tight, possessive fists to the lapels of his jacket and you melt completely into the domination and tenderness in his touch.
With a quiet groan he tilts his head, deepening the contact into a decadent slide, sending a hungry hand down your body once again and grabbing your ass to press all your softness against the hard planes of his body.
He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, drags slowly away, and you chase the contact, but he stops you, pressing his thumb over your lips.
He stares for what feels like forever, then kisses you again, lingering before he murmurs, “you’re so beautiful,” into the sensitive skin below your ear, and then repeats it quietly into your neck.
“Are you going to stay the night?” you ask breathless.
“If you’ll have m…”
“Yes. Yes Bucky.”
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flowersforbucky · 7 months ago
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down bad
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bucky barnes x reader
word count: 3.9k
author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.
warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only
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“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”
“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.
“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.
“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.
“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”
“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”
“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.
“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”
“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.”
Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.
Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.
“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”
“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.
“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.
Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.
“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.
“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.
“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.
“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.
“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.
“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”
“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”
— — — — —
One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.
What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?
You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–
“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.
You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…
Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.
“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”
“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.
“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”
“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.
There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.
“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.
To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.
“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.
Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.
“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”
If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.
“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.
“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.
“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”
“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.
You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.
Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.
You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.
You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.
The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.
You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.
“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.
“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”
“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.
Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.
“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.
“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.
“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”
He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.
“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.
“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”
Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.
He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.
At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.
“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”
“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.
“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.
You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.
“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”
“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.
He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.
His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.
His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.
If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.
“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”
“I say show me the way.”
He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.
Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.
He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.
The very last door opens without a hitch.
Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.
Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.
You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.
He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.
You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.
He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.
You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.
He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.
You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.
“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.
“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.
You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.
You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -
“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”
His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.
He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.
“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.
You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.
You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.
He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.
He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.
God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…
Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.
You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.
His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.
“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.
It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.
You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.
When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.
“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”
“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.
He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.
It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.
“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”
You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.
You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”
You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.
Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.
♡♡♡♡♡
i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭
as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!
my masterlist
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amathslutsguidetofandom · 3 months ago
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"I'm Taking That As A Yes, Princess"
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PAIRINGS: Ghostface!FratPresident!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader
WARNINGS: Getting alcohol spilt on you, fingering, a bit angsty? (if you squint), semi-bathroom sex, swering, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, mentions of cum, handjob, a slight hint of a blowjob and slight fluff? (If I have missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)
WORD COUNT: 2,922
*not proof-read*
ENJOY!
Walking into the house, you were immediately surrounded by sweaty, sticky bodies. You grimaced at the overwhelming feeling and tried to find a space where you could catch your breath. The kitchen was relatively empty, except for a couple making out on the counter. You decided to mind your own business, reaching into the fridge and navigating past cans and bottles of beer to grab a water bottle hidden at the back.
You twisted the cap off and took a long sip. Everyone was dressed up differently, which made sense—it was Halloween. Instead of babysitting your little cousins, you’d faked being sick to your parents, dressed up, and come to the Alpha Phi house. This wasn’t like you at all. The top student in your class, the teacher’s pet, the early-assignment submitter, the girl who became a TA in her junior year—you were the “good girl.”
So why were you here? Because you’d overheard some girls talking about the infamous Halloween party that the Alpha Phi guys threw every year. And you weren’t the type who usually went to parties. So why this one? Because you’d heard that Steve Rogers was going to show up, and you had a little crush on the star player of the varsity ice hockey team. You’d been trying to muster the courage to talk to him ever since you sat next to him in a lab in your first year. That was two years ago, and you’d been harbouring feelings for him ever since.
Your heart did a little flip every time he smiled at you when you passed him in the halls. Finishing your water, you threw the bottle in the recycling bin and tugged your tutu down to avoid a wedgie. The ballerina costume was a last-minute, twenty-dollar buy, but you were happy with it—the corseted top accentuated your chest, and though the sheer tights were a bit snug, it didn’t bother you too much.
You were making your way through the crowd and spotted a tuft of blond hair. Your heart flipped again. This was it, the perfect moment. You were going to ask Steve if he wanted to go out sometime. He was tipsy enough to say yes, and if he said no, he’d be too focused on his hangover tomorrow to remember your question. You took a deep breath and started toward him.
Then you saw them. You’d thought the rumours weren’t true, that they couldn’t be real. But the sight of Steve Rogers making out with Peggy Carter would be forever etched in your mind, because the pain in your heart was unbearable. You stood frozen, your heart thudding in your chest as you watched Steve's hands roam over Peggy’s body. You clenched your jaw and sniffled, rooted to the spot.
You only snapped out of it when someone spilled their drink on you. “Damn, sorry, gorgeous,” a guy dressed as Fred from Scooby-Doo winked at you drunkenly before chuckling and moving away. You shook your head, trying to clean the alcohol off your costume.
“Hey, buddy. I think you owe the girl a real apology,” another voice piped up. You looked up to see a towering figure dressed as Ghostface, holding Fred by the shoulder. “Now, say you’re sorry—like you really mean it, and none of that half-assed stuff because you’re shitfaced,” Ghostface ordered, crossing his arms. Fred straightened up, looked you in the eye, and apologized sincerely. Ghostface nodded approvingly and sent him away.
Before you realized it, Ghostface had moved closer to you. You turned to see him looking you over, his mask bobbing as if inspecting your costume. He clicked his tongue and put a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
You both walked upstairs, where the sounds of the party gradually faded, and you were grateful for the quiet. You hesitated when he opened a door and gestured for you to go in.
For the first time that night, you spoke up. “Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are.”
The chuckle that followed freaked you out a little, but then he reached up to remove the mask.
James. Freaking. Barnes.
You tried your best to mask your surprise, but you were sure he saw it, because the corners of his lips lifted into a smirk.
James “Bucky” Barnes—the captain of the varsity ice hockey team, a good student, a charmer, the president of Alpha Phi, and most importantly, the best friend of Steve Rogers.
You’ve met James a few times here and there. During some of the varsity games. And passed him in the dorms sometimes. He never caused you any trouble. He even offered to help you move-in in your second year when he clearly saw you struggle push your luggage up the stairs.
You were just acquaintances.
You swallowed and timidly walked into the pristine room, surprised by its immaculate condition. “I certainly didn’t expect a frat president to have such a clean room,” you muttered, hearing James laugh at your comment as he closed the door.
“Well, I don’t work well in a messy environment,” he shrugged and walked closer, his gaze trailing over your corset. You backed up slightly at the intensity of his approach, making him huff a laugh. “I don’t bite, princess,” he said, his fingers grazing the edge of your corset.
He gently guided you to the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll have to wash it out a bit. So, if you don’t mind getting your tutu a little damp, princess…,” he led, waiting for your response. You shook your head, signalling it was fine. He nodded toward the counter, and you hopped onto it.
He wetted a towel and began dabbing it on your clothes. “So, what’s a timid thing like you doing at a fraternity party?” he whispered, his focus on cleaning up the stain. You glanced at his concentrated face before looking away. “What? Can’t a girl come to a party?” you replied, defensively, for some reason.
James chuckled, “Oh, a girl can come to a party. But you, you’re not that type of girl, princess.” You raised an eyebrow at him, puzzled by his statement. “I mean, you never come to parties in general. So why the sudden appearance?” He sighed and caged you between his arms.
You tensed, starting to stammer. “Well, I wanted to see someone,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands.
“Yeah?” James asked, his gaze piercing. “Who was the special guy?”
You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly looked away. He used two fingers to tilt your face toward him. “Eyes on me, princess,” he said softly.
“Steve. I came to ask Steve out…,” you admitted, spilling your secret.
James looked at you with you look, you couldn’t decipher what it was. But you didn’t know what to feel about it. He looked into your eyes for so long, you started to tear up due to the lack of blinking.
“Steve…,” he dragged it, and it made you wonder why. But you didn’t question it.
He continued to dab the wet cloth to your clothes. “You didn’t have to do that you know… The, um, asking the guy to apologize to me,” you broke the silence, because you couldn’t take the stuffy air that was in between the both of you.
James shook his head and chuckled as he dabbed on your neckline. “If I didn’t my Ma would scold my ear off if she knew. And, besides, a pretty girl needs to be treated right.”
You’re breathing stops at that, and you looked up at him with a confused look. He smirked at your expression, “what?” You shook you head and asked him, “you think I’m pretty?”
James scoffed and nodded, “I would have to be blind if I didn’t think your stunning, princess.”
You didn’t realise but your lips and James’ were a hair breadths away. “James…,” you tried to start but James beat you to it, “Bucky, princess. Call me Bucky.”
You gulped and nodded.
“Bucky.”
He groaned at they way his named sounded on your tongue. “Princess, your killin’ me here,” he whispered more to himself than at you. His knuckles gripped onto the counter tight. “Please…,” he muttered.
“Pardon?” you didn’t catch what he said.
“Please let me kiss you.”
You froze, you didn’t know what to do.
You always thought Bucky was hot. Hotter than Steve, but you never had any classes with him to fully judge him. You were a hundred percent sure that if Bucky was your lab partner instead of Steve, you’d totally be crushing on Bucky instead.
And if that were the case, you’d be nodding your head like a mad man. Steve was taken, you were still recovering from that. Bucky, apparently, liked you. Liked you more than you thought he did.
You saw the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to you lips and back to your eyes. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and saw his pupils dilate at the movement.
“I-,” you started but your thoughts were washed away when you saw Bucky lick his lips too. You heart thuds in your chest as you feel like the whole world is dark and the spotlight is just on you with the way Bucky looks like you. There’s a small part of you that wanted to feel how his lips would feel against you.
So, you nodded.
Before you knew it, Bucky was standing between your legs and gripping your hips. He then pulled you close and smashed his lips on yours. You took a second to understand what was going on, but when your conscious did come back to you cupped his face and kissed him back.
He licked at your bottom lip asking your permission to open up your mouth and you allowed it immediately. Soon your tongues were dancing together, yours was meek and shy letting Bucky do all the taking over. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whimpers against his mouth, which just made him groan against you.
He moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access, and the more you let him the more your whimpers turn to moans.
He moves his hands all over your body, “this okay, princess?” He whispered against your skin, and you nodded fervently and grasped at his black cloak. You felt him palm at your chest, and you sighed and whispered a, “more, Bucky, please.” He nodded against your skin and moved his hands up your thighs and squeezes the flesh of your thighs.
You felt the heat pool between your things and squeezed them together. Bucky smirked and pushed them away, “nuh uh, none o’ that.” He got closer to you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips and chuckled. His hands moved to your inner thighs, and you gasped out, the wetness pooling more into your underwear.
You felt his knuckles brushed against your core and you whimpered and dropped your head against his shoulder. “Please, Bucky,” you muttered against his costume. Without any other word he ripped your tights at the centre and felt the wet path of white cotton.
“Oh princess, so wet f’me already?” Bucky snickered and you nodded at his question.  He rubbed his knuckles against your cunt’s lips and pressed his fingers harder when he heard your soft mewl. “You like it don’t you, princess?” To which you nodded again and whispered his name breathlessly.
He pushed your underwear aside and sunk his thick fingers in, and you whined at the intrusion. The sweet stretch felt better than your own meek fingers and soon Bucky was pumping his fingers in and out making your legs shake. “I’m not even rubbing your clit, princess. Your legs are already shaking,” he whispered roughly against your ear.  
His thumb started to rub at your clit and that’s when you lost your mind. You mewled and moaned his name as his fingers were rubbing that deep spot in you and his thumb playing with your button has you becoming a wailing mess. He bends down and started to attack your neck. “Fuck, Bucky. Please,” you cried out as you feel your impending orgasm start to build at your core.
Bucky roughly rubbed at your clit and within seconds your gushed around his fingers. You sighed and untensed your shoulders. Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes and licked them clean. You whimpered at the sight.
You both leaned in and captured the other in a deep kiss, Bucky picked you up like you weighed nothing and exited the bathroom and walked until he placed you down on his bed.
He pulled the Ghostface mask down and leaned to tower over you. You bit your lip, and he chuckled, “didn’t know princess was a bit freaky, hmm?” He unbuckled his belt under the cloak, and you took off your tutu and tossed it somewhere in his room.
When he managed to get his cock out of his pants, your eyes widened as the sheer size of him and then looked at him to see the small smirk that was painted on his lips. “Something wrong, princess?” You gulped and said, “it’s not gonna fit.”
Bucky chuckled and leaned over you once more and whispered into your ear, “we’ll make it fit, princess.” The tone he used made you shiver, and you gripped onto his shoulders and readied yourself. Bucky ran his shaft up and down you’re sit and you whined desperately.
“Bucky, please. I need you,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back. He tapped your cheek with two fingers and said, “eyes on me, princess.” And with that Bucky slowly pushed inside you. The stretch was so deliciously sweet and painful it made you lose your mind. You both gasped at the feeling of him moving further into you.
“Fuck, princess. You’re so tight,” he grits out as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your nails raked down his back and he let out a deep moan which made goosebumps raise on your skin.
The sound of skin slapping on skin wasn’t’ as loud as your wails of Bucky’s name and moans. When the tip of him tapped against that spot in you, your eyes rolled to the back of your mind and you squealed, “Bucky right there, oh! Right there!”
Bucky grabbed a hold of the headboard and thrusted harder into you, aiming at that same spot and you felt tears run down the side of face in pleasure. “Fuck, princess. Gripping me like a vice,” he purses his lips as he knocked his hips against yours.
You felt the sheer length of him move in and out of you, your walls embraced him like he was meant to be there in the first place. “Attagirl. Take what I give you, yeah?” He huffed against your ear. The coarse patch of pubic hair that rested at the bottom of his happy trail, rubbed against your clit giving your that nice friction and it made you whine even more.
He pressed a hand against your abdomen and pressed down harder and it made the feeling even better. He saw how you reacted and pressed down harder, and you arched your back at the feeling. With that you felt the climax in you start to rise, “Bucky, I’m so close.” You whimpered as you watched the man wearing the Ghostface mask rut into you expertly.
He threw your legs over his shoulders and rutted into your harder, the band at your core bends and bends until it finally snapped and soon you were coming around Bucky’s cock.
Bucky groaned deeply at you squeezing him tightly, he pulled out and you whined at the loss of the feeling. He was fisting his length at the sight of you post orgasmic bliss and it looked so hot from your perspective. You quickly got on your knees and replaced Bucky’s hand with yours. “Fucking hell, princess,” he ran a hand through your hair and bunched it up at the back of your head. “That’s it, making me feel so good,” he sighed and threw his head back.
He groaned when you parted your lips, the mushroom head of his member inches away from your mouth. He tipped his head back, “fuck I’m so close.” And soon you felt his warm spent spill down your throat. Bucky moaned at the sight, and his chest reverberated deeply when he saw you swallow.
He pushed you down to lay on your back again and he then he laid next to you. You reached up and took of his Ghostface mask so you can his face. “That desperate to see my face? Hmm?” He smirked at your action. You shook your head and chuckled shyly, “maybe.”
Bucky reached up and caressed your face. “You know you’re really pretty right, princess?” You blushed at his comment, “buy me dinner first, Barnes.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded, “are you free this weekend?”
You froze, “you can’t be serious.”
“Well, I kinda am.”
“You are a piece of work James Barnes,”
“Should I take that as a, yes?”
You chuckled and shook your head; you gave him a soft smile.
“I’m taking that as a yes, princess.”
🎀🎀🎀
A fic posted during the midst of exam period?!
I would like to thank @buck-star for helping me with coming up with this idea!
This took a while and it's ALOT, but late night productivity hit me like a freight train haha.
I've one more exam in the next week and I'll be done!
Hope you lovelies liked this!
Lemme know what y'all think of the fic!
Till' then,
Stay Coquette-y,
Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀
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excelsiorfics · 9 months ago
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Checkers
Date: 25 May 2008 Author: Terra Rating: General Word Count/Status: 1,060, complete Dynamic: Bucky Barnes & Toro Raymond Characters: Thomas "Toro" Raymond, Bucky Barnes Tags: Invaders, War-typical Violence
Summary: Bucky and Toro, going to war and growing up.
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nat-alianovnaromanova · 2 years ago
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this is more bucky than nat but well whatever. freezer bride. i tried to be good am i no good. as the winter soldier he is simultaneously terrified of the black widow and desperate for her approval. he wants to be good for her.
only he is so very confused on what being good is! is it cleaning her guns for her or sharpening her knives or eating her out or watching her back or doing is as he is told like a good little soldier. he craves excess emotion from her - so fucking or fighting, because she is the only one he is capable of returning this excess for. the only one who shows it to him and demands it in return. and so he tries to be good for her -> wants to be hers because he ultimately conflates goodness with natalia. and again the goodness is not very well defined. goodness as is obeying her as in making her smile as in making her angry as in anything from her is better than the nothing he gets from the rest of the world. so he tries everything and anything for her. pathetically. he is a sopping wet losing dog for her
and nat also equates goodness to the winter soldier only she has a better understanding of goodness. goodness as in sunrises and his laughter and a strong fighter. but nat is exposed to the outside world more than freezer bride bucky so of course she arbitrarily gets the good vs the bad so while yes she does construct her happiness and ideas of goodness around him (she meets him when she is very young and he is the only person who meets her halfway. who wants her to be herself around him. he is a formative experience of her girlhood) she can still also rely on herself to some extent
and this is doubly expressed post-recovery (for nat post shield, for bucky post catws if were talking mcu timeline which ive kept track of better than 616 lol) where natasha’s growth and healing does not hinge on clint but bucky’s sort of relies on nat and steve. both of whom he sort of hates but wants to impress so badly. they are the only ones who knew him as good albeit in different ways which makes it very confusing and obviously results in tension but at the end of the day they each intimately know a separate part of him. bucky vs winter soldier. and obv sends bucky into a downward spiral where he is trying to be one or the other but mostly he wants to be good and worthy of them both
my point was. i tried to be good am i no good -> tell me what im doing is right. as long as i have your approval i am good only i dont know whether i want your approval or the goodness so i will seek both. i just wanted to be yours can i be yours -> lets not forget the winter soldier and the black widow are nastily emotionally codependent. this is one aspect that never ever changes. from the red room where they are each other’s first overt emotional experience. they meet again and again & it is amplified. it never goes away they rely on each other for love and gentleness and validation bc they learned skewed versions of those from each other and they fear they will never get it anywhere else. sort of like the blind leading the blind. my memory restricted to a polaroid in evidence -> post hydra bucky gives up on defining himself as good or bad and lets nat do it for him (not steve bc steve only knew him as fully good and so will always think of him as such despite what came after. bucky doesnt want that, he wants full responsibility and he thinks he will get it from nat: nat knew him as ‘a monster’ and so she knows the extent of how terrible he is only what he doesnt know is that nat is as blind about him as steve is in that she will excuse any horror if it is at his hand). also the whole world is out to get him!! he remembers like. smudged charcoal on steves fingers. snow. blood. natalia in a car. a jesus-like crown of thorns digging into his skull. pain pain pain. he cant defend himself and he doesnt want to when the un or whoever is coming after him with pitchforks with physical evidence of crimes he cannot remember committing. and so it falls to nat and steve. his memory is literally restricted to a polaroid in evidence while he is trying to be good!!!!!!!
am i turning in your stomach. am i making you feel sick evokes the same eeriness and nausea as natalia finding james in his cryo chamber, alive but dead, and it is always her fault (this is one of the most hauntingly beautiful canon scenes btw. ‘what have they done to you. what have i done to you’) and the guilt that comes from that bc she just wanted to be good and his but ultimately she was his demise! idk whatever they are so fascinating someone think about them like i do 😕
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jaggedamethyst · 8 days ago
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easy (bucky barnes x gn!reader)
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content: life with bucky is amazing…but it’s easy to feel like you’re not enough when your relationship is a secret.
secret relationship, miscommunication/misunderstanding, angst, self doubt, alpine!!!!! not proofread
notes: fawk tik tok but welcome everyone who is bored and here getting their bucky content now. real as fuck. (no sharon carter slander allowed around me ever btw.)
there will be a part two (possibly more but idk)
main masterlist
part two
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*  
“I never really understood the appeal of a secret relationship until now,” You glanced over to Bucky, “It’s kinda invigorating.”
He smirked, his lazy smile matching his relaxed figure—sprawled on the bed next to you. “Invigorating, huh?”
He had rushed over the night before, getting back to the compound and waiting for a good time to slyly step out. It became habit; he would say that he was coming back from a run in the mornings. If he ever was caught in the evening, he’d simply went on one of many errand trips.
The truth was, that people didn’t really notice him. Bucky Barnes could sneak out and back in relatively unchecked save for Steve. Even then, Bucky’s elusive nature made it easy for people to stop asking after a while. He knew the underlying issue was that they would never truly separate who he was with who he is now. It was okay, though, because he had you. Thats all that mattered.
Peoples’ concern for Bucky’s wellbeing and whereabouts dwindled—figuring he could handle himself. He loved that when everyone else could simply shut their minds off to the thought of a rehabilitated solider—you accepted him with warmth. That affection would never truly be lost on him.
You turned over in your bed, observing Bucky’s features. You couldn’t help the way your entire face upturned—truly invigorated by the sight.
He noticed your stare in his peripheral, “Like what you see?”
“Oh, please.” A pillow found its way in your grip, playfully smacking Bucky in his face. You quickly moved to leap off of the bed, but the attempt was futile, of course. The man had been able to lean over and grab you before you could even process the movement—pushing you firmly into the mattress. Without missing a beat, he leaned in to kiss you—smiling into it. His metal hand found a grip on your neck, just under your chin, and pulled you up into him. The pressure was delicate—the inherent weight of him using this arm not lost on either of you. The coolness spurred you on. Your arms snaked around his back and tightened at the feeling of his skin on yours; you’d never truly gotten used to the feeling.
It was an honor, truly, to be loved by James Barnes. It was even more so to love him. When you were able to bask in the morning sun like this, to kiss him like he could disappear, you never took it for granted.
The kiss quickly became overwhelming. Thoughts of the man filled your mind—mostly of how lucky you felt. Even more common at times like these was to feel as if you weren’t deserving…despite him constantly saying otherwise. He made sure to tell you daily, if not more often, that being a secret was to keep you safe. He couldn’t chance losing you, he’d say. He couldn’t live without you.
But something else clawed at your skull, telling you that maybe you just weren’t enough—that you didn’t look the way you should.
You pulled away, looking between his eyes. He was completely in a daze—lips reddened and swollen so quickly. A blush feathered its way over his cheeks, then, watching you look at him so intensely.
He swallowed, “What?” He pecked your lips quickly. “Am I just that good at kissing that you’re mesmerized by my talents?”
An involuntary huff escaped you and you quickly forgot that fleeting thought of inadequacy. You mirrored his smile before playfully pushing him off of you, finally moving off of the bed and toward the kitchen.
Bucky had a charismatic way about him that could be mistaken for immature. You knew better, though. In his new life he adopted optimism—a way to combat the thoughts he had. Feelings of his still being a horrible man. That he would never escape being an assassin. So when he looked at you and saw a growing somber look on your face, he didn’t expect the worst. He should’ve.
After some time passed, Bucky emerged from your bedroom. You gave him a quick look over the brim of your cup, sipping on your tea. You made a show of observing how he’d freshened up and changed into his signature dark clothing. The sight of Alpine snuggling up to his boot had you cheesing then.
He stalked over to you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Gonna go stop by my place and get a few things…figured she would like the trip.” He leaned down to scoop up his cat. “Should probably also grab more of her food.” He motioned toward the now empty tupperware he had made into a makeshift transport for when the both of them would stay at your place.
“No worries. I should be tidying up around here anyways.” You reached up to hug him, leaving space for Alpine between you.
“I’ll be seeing ya, doll.”
You pushed into his shoulder at his silly remark, but decided to play along. “Be seeing ya, too, Sarge.”
With that he turned to leave—the white cat perched comfortably on his shoulder now.
The sound of the door closing immediately made you turn to survey your apartment. It wasn’t too bad—but could easily take a few hours to freshen up if you made a day of it. With a nod, you began tidying and cleaning to pass the time—occasionally checking your phone for a text or call from Bucky.
It was only way into the night that you began to get anxious. You knew about his job; at one moment there could be nothing and the next a universal threat they had to combat. You tried not to jump to worry, but it was so unlike him. There’d been times like this, where he would disappear. You would take the time, giving him space he probably needed—only to find him holed up in his apartment in the worst condition he’d ever been in. Images of him contracted in on himself and shoved into a dark corner played in your mind. You had to go check, to be sure.
Throwing on a matching sweat set, you shoved your phone and keys into your pocket, quickly making the trek to his place. It wasn’t far, but it wasn’t exactly close. For some reason you made the decision to walk there—the franticness and burn in your legs making the distance seem even larger.
Your chest burned, heaving as you turned the corner. The building came into view, finally. You quickly swiped the extra card he’d given you to enter the building. Every step felt like a march toward complete devastation. Your hands opened and shut, grasping at your hoodie. The elevator ride was torturous. You weren’t sure how you’d find him—the thought alone was driving you up a wall.
As you approached his door, your pace slowed. You dug into your pocket again, reaching for his key on your keychain. Just above the gasps of your breath you heard shuffling in his place—causing you to still. You were sure the expression on your face was one of confusion, wondering why he’d not let you know he got here at least. Just as you went to call his name, a voice spoke, muffled by the closed door. Without a thought, you leaned in at the sound—growing more cautious and remembering just how much Bucky told you to stay aware of your surroundings. With a tilt, you steadied your breathing. None of the words were coming clear to you. It was certain, though, that there was a woman in his place.
You took a long and drawn inhale before swiftly pushing in and turning the key to Bucky’s apartment.
The woman paused the call she’d been on, now looking at you. “I’ll call you back.” She pushed the phone into her pocket, looking at you expectantly. “Hi.”
“Hi?” You gave her a quizzical look, “Who are you?” You hadn’t meant to ask so bluntly.
The woman across from you didn’t move, clearly aware of the fact that you didn’t let the door close. Either you were really dumb…or someone taught you that. She stepped toward you, then, a hand outstretched. “I’m Sharon.” She observed your lack of motion except for a brow that arched at the introduction. “You must know Barnes, he sent me here to check on Alpine…can’t seem to find him.”
“Her.”
“Sorry?”
“Her…Alpine’s…a her.”
Sharon lowered her hand. “Didn’t know, sorry.”
Your grip on the door’s knob loosened a bit at the mention of Bucky and Alpine. Finally, you let the door swing closed behind you—stepping into his living room but keeping a distance.
You cleared your throat, “So where is he? That he couldn’t check on Alpine himself, I mean…”
“I um…” She paused, teetering on her feet. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to say-“
“I’m his friend,” you interrupted. You groaned internally at the attempt to make your presence at his place seem legitimate. “We’ve been friends for a while. Haven’t heard from him and wanted to see if he was okay.”
“So you just walked in?”
“Isn’t that what you did?”
The woman smiled, chuckling to herself. “Got a point there.” Silence filled the room again before she spoke again, “So…you’re a friend…with a key?”
“I watch Alpine when he’s out of town…he figured I should have one just in case he’s ever gone longer than expected.”
You surveyed the woman, looking for any questioning of your rehearsed reply. It was somewhat true…not entirely, though.
You chose to repeat your question, concern still sitting within you. “Where’s Bucky?”
The woman reached in her pocket, causing you to step away from her. She raised her arm—motioning for you to wait. Reflected back at you was her ID and badge. She worked with him.
“You should come with me.”
Just then, Alpine strolled around the corner, approaching you in recognition. You scooped her up the same as Bucky had, watching Sharon move toward the door. You inched back, allowing her the space to exit and for you to follow.
The car ride was uncomfortably silent. No words were exchanged between you and the only sound that resonated between the both of you being Alpines sweet purrs into your lap. Eventually you approached the compound. Bucky had never bought you here—thinking better of it. You followed Sharons swift motions, keeping a somewhat close distance on her trail. Looking around as you walked, you were overwhelmed. There were so many people, all of which Bucky didn’t want to know about you. There were so many weapons, so casually strewn about and waved around.
A shake of your head was inadvertent. You pulled Alpine in closer to you, sniffing in the lingering scent of Bucky on her.
The two of you rounded a corner, a few sectioned off rooms coming into view. Sharon quickly stepped into one, ushering you in.
She leaned down and clicked on a keyboard, speaking while looking at the computer screen. “Barnes was called up.” She clicked away, “We needed some undercover done and they had to be able to speak Russian…possibly other languages.” She side eyed you, making sure you were looking. “We have feeds on them at all times.”
She stood then, backing up to stand in line with you. You surveyed the screen, confused by the atmosphere, “Where is this?”
“Some arts gala…few hours away. We got word of illegal dealings happening a few weeks out so they’re doing recon.”
You nodded, watching the zoomed out view of the ballroom. A quick scan came up empty—no signs of Bucky at all. You saw Sharon in your side view, watching the various emotions littering your face.
She crossed her arms, “Barnes isn’t your friend.”
“No.” It wasn’t a question. You figured this would happen, Bucky said as much, that anyone he worked with would see right through you. You kicked yourself for how obvious you’d been, even when trying to be subtle.
“There they are.”
You looked over to her suddenly, “They?”
She moved to zoom in on the screen. “Yup, Barnes and Romanoff.” Sharon resumed her stance next to you. “See? He’s alright…figured this would ease your mind. I know how he can get.”
There was nothing out of the ordinary and you reasoned that you were just being overly cautious. Admittedly, you jumped to so many conclusions in such a small time.
The sound of Sharon’s phone going off filled the room. “I have to take this, but feel free to stay. I can take you back in a sec, okay?”
“Thank you, Sharon.”
She nodded before stepping out to take the call.
You sat down, allowing Alpine to observe the screen as well. “He’s doing just fine. That’s good, right?”
You looked down at Alpine for a second, amused by your own love for the cat—seeing as you weren’t fond of them as a whole. Generally, you were more of a dog person, but you compromised because Bucky loved her. You smiled at the thought of them, your own little family.
The absentminded circling on Alpine’s back stopped abruptly as you looked up at the screen again. You whispered to yourself, “What the fuck…”
In what seemed to be an average recon mission, seemed to linger a hint of something you didn’t quite like. The distance between Bucky and the woman was closing. His grip found her back, a secure hand there while the other held hers firmly. They were talking. You turned to look for Sharon, hoping there were mics on them. The smiles exchanged back and forth had your chest in pain—the same lazy smile he’d shown you just hours ago. Your body started to shake, pulsing at a frequency that left you feeling unstable. A hand secured you in the chair; you urged yourself to keep watching, even if to your own detriment.
He leaned in, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. They moved apart, then, searching in one another’s gaze. In a split second, the pair’s lips met one another’s. You felt your eyes blink away a sting that approached you quickly. An immediate pain welled up in you. You couldn’t believe it. Clenching down on your teeth, you stood up quickly, moving closer to the monitor. Your finger trailed his face, looking for any sign that this was just an act—an elaborate ruse for the task at hand. Yet, there was nothing.
You couldn’t help but let the feelings of inadequacy cloud your judgement. You couldn’t help but doubt everything he’d ever said. You couldn’t help but cower away from yourself—scared of your own reflection now. It had to be true…you just simply weren’t enough. Someone else was better.
Feeling Alpine in your hands, you pressed a firm hug and kiss into her fur. You rubbed her reassuringly before setting her down in the chair. “I’ll see you later…okay?”
The cat seemed to look at you longingly—but you couldn’t let that stop your path. You had to get out of here. Swinging the door open, you stepped out into the hall and looked around for Sharon. She seemed to have disappear—of course. You took a few steps, unsure of which direction to go. To anyone watching, you seemed to stutter step. You’d move in one direction and question the next. Suddenly, a man came into view, towering over you.
He leaned down to meet your eyeline, “Hey.” He waved a hand in an attempt to break you from your trance. “You okay? You seem lost.”
“I just need to get out of here.” You move to step around him, “Excuse me.”
Your quick footsteps carried you toward the outside—the familiar burn of your legs reminding you of the feeling just an hour ago. How concerned you’d been, you thought, only for him to be hours away having the time of his life…without you.
Within a few minutes, you were able to find a ride and head home. Opening your apartment door hit you in a way you didn’t expect. You had cleaned everything, yes, but you had accidentally removed all traces of Bucky in your attempt to straighten up. The lack of him felt too real—hitting your chest with a force you couldn’t take.
In all your time together you hadn’t felt more connected to Bucky than right now. You empathized with him—sinking to the floor came easy. Letting yourself waste away in an effort to not acknowledge the pain was… easy. Sitting in the dark, ignoring calls, letting your mind run rampant.
I can do this, you thought. Reveling in the feeling of sadness was much easier than facing Bucky. So you simply…wouldn’t.
part two
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