#SUB BUCKY

[havensins]

Waking up to bucky fucking himself on your cock cause he got horny

luv this. (cw dubcon& somno)

blinking the sleep on your eyes to see a needy and disheveled bucky on your lap with his hair pulled into a bun as he bounces.

once he sees you’re no longer awake, he whines. “‘m sorry.. sorry sorry sorry, jus’ needed you,” he’d whimper, bouncing faster as the shame and humiliation of being caught creeps up his spine.

“such a needy fuckin’ whore, buck. you couldn’t even wait until i was awake before bouncin’ on my cock like this?” you question, grunting as he tightens around you at the words.

“i must’ve truly fucked you cock-dumb,” you grin, hands finding his waist and helping him move along your cock. he cries out at the feel, pressing his hands against your chest. “yessss! your dumb whore..” he all but moans, cheeks wet with his tears of oversensitivity.

[kylopen]

In My Head

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sunshine reader is always seen as sweet and innocent to the team, always happy to use her healing magic wherever possible. Bucky, touch starved and in love, discovers reader is not as innocent as she seems.

Word count: 8.2k words <3

Plus size reader safe! All body types are safe in this fic! Everyone loves Dom! Bucky I do too but good god I need whipped Bucky who will do anything for Reader. This is the longest piece I’ve written in so long! Enjoy and leave a note<3 I’m in my marvel era again so feel free to request anyone! I didn't proof read (i finished it at 1am)

Tags: There is a plot! (porn with plot lol) AFAB reader, The smut is pure FILTH tbh, Smut, Pining Bucky, no use of Y/N.

Smut warnings: Sub!Bucky, soft dom! Reader, use of ‘Good boy’, Bucky has a praise kink, pussy eating (lots of it), Needy/touch starved Bucky, Bucky has an Edward Cullen moment, Oral (female/reader receiving— THREE times hehe) penetration, Buck likes his hair pulled, Bucky dry humps, Reader squirts (third oral sequence so skip that part if you wish) needy creampie.

There were things in the modern world that baffled Bucky, Bubble tea, new terms for prejudice ending in 'phobia', babies with Ipads in their faces. And you. The first time he laid eyes on you, you gave him a blindingly sweet smile, and held your hand out for him to shake. When he didn't take it you didn't judge him or look at him funny, you smiled like you understood. From then on, you respected his boundaries and he began to feel safe. It made sense to him that someone like you had the power to help and heal others.

You’d always bring them things; vitamins, water, those weird orange flavoured things that dissolve in water, something a little sugary for a boost, with that sweet, innocent smile he'd grown to adore. He would never- could never admit that though, someone like him wasn't worthy of you. He could settle for some longing and pining instead.

Bucky is lounging on the sofa with Steve, some 50s flick playing that Steve had insisted on, something about a painter in Paris- he wasn't sure. And then, you walk in, your sweet voice drifting into his ear.

“An American in Paris, huh?” you asked, gently teasing as you moved closer to the sofa, catching sight of the movie they were watching.

Bucky shifted a little, his gaze flickering to you, then quickly back to the TV. He tried not to look at you too much when you were around, not because he didn’t want to, but because every time he did, it felt like something in his chest tightened. It certainly didn’t help that it was a hot day today, you’d opted for a cute pink and white sundress that stopped mid thigh.

“Yeah, Steve’s choice,” Bucky muttered, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out a little softer than he intended. He knew that you liked these kinds of old movies, so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Steve grinned from the other end of the couch, catching the subtle shift in Bucky’s tone, but not saying anything about it. Instead, he glanced up at you with a friendly smile.

“You a fan of the classics too?” Steve asked, gesturing for you to sit if you wanted to join them.

You walked over, the scent of your shampoo reaching Bucky’s senses. Vanilla and coconut, coincidentally his favourite fragrance, something that had changed not long after he’d met you… coincidentally of course, and the more you lingered around, the harder it became for him to focus on anything but you.

“Reminds me of my dad. Some are super sexist but I’m a sucker for Marilyn Monroe” you said, sitting down at the edge of the couch, right next to Bucky. Close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off of you, but still with enough space to respect his boundaries. You always seemed to know exactly how to balance that, without even trying. It amazed him.

Bucky felt his pulse quicken as you sat beside him. You were so close. Too close. Not close enough.

He grunted in agreement with your statement, nodding, though his eyes stayed fixed on the screen. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you—he just didn’t know how. What could he say that wouldn’t make him seem awkward or broken? Besides, talking might make him reveal just how badly he wanted to be near you, and he couldn’t afford that.

But then you spoke again, your voice soft and gentle, like you were speaking just to him. “How was training today?”

He cleared his throat, trying to push away the thoughts clouding his mind. “Same as always. Steve still hits like a truck.”

Steve laughed from the other side, “You’re the one with the metal arm, Buck.”

Bucky shot him a look, but there was no real bite to it. Just a distraction. He was grateful for it.

You laughed too, and that sound—it was like a melody that settled right under Bucky’s skin, making him feel warm in a way he hadn’t in a long time. He stole a glance at you again, just for a second, and you were looking right at him. That smile on your face, the one that had been seared into his memory from the moment you’d met.

“Let me guess,” you said, eyes twinkling, “you didn’t let him win this time either?”

Bucky’s lips twitched, almost into a smile, but he stopped himself. “Nope.”

“Good,” you replied, your voice soft again, almost as if you were relieved. “Can’t let Cap off easy.”

It was such a simple thing to say, but it hit Bucky harder than he’d expected. You cared. Not just in the way you handed out snacks and drinks after training or smiled when they passed by, but genuinely cared. For him. For Steve. And maybe, just maybe, that meant you’d be willing to see something more in him than he saw in himself.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but it was thick with unspoken words. Bucky could feel it. He wanted to reach out, say something—anything—but the words lodged themselves in his throat, like they always did when it came to you.

For a moment, Bucky let himself wonder what it would be like—if he could let himself believe he was worthy of you. Of someone so full of light and warmth, when all he felt was the shadows of his past.

But then the doubt crept back in, and he looked away again. He couldn’t let himself get too close. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could manage without giving too much away.

You didn’t push him, though. You never did. You just smiled again and settled into the couch beside him, watching the movie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for a fleeting moment, Bucky let himself pretend that it was.

The training room echoes with the sharp sound of fists hitting metal, the rhythmic thud of boots against the mat, and the occasional grunt of exertion. Bucky and Steve were sparring again; the same routine they'd run through countless times. It usually helped Bucky clear his mind, focus his energy on something physical, something he could control. But today, it was different.

“Come on, Buck, focus,” Steve says as he circles around, hands up and ready. His movements were fluid, precise. He was always like that—disciplined, unshakable. Bucky was too, usually. But not today.

His thoughts kept drifting, unbidden, back to you.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how close you had been on the couch last night, the way your voice had softened when you’d spoken to him, like you saw something in him that no one else did. That smile. It was haunting him in the best way.

As if to taunt him farther, his mind flashes with the image of you in your sundress, the way it swayed around the soft skin of your thighs.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice cut through his reverie, but not fast enough.

Distracted, Bucky moves just a second too late. He swings wide, and Steve, quicker than ever, ducked under his arm and swept his legs out from under him. Before Bucky could react, he hit the mat hard, air leaving his lungs in a sharp gasp.

“Damn it,” Bucky growles, more at himself than at Steve. He stays on the floor for a moment, trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He shouldn’t be getting distracted like this. Not during a sparring session. Not ever.

Steve stands over him, offering a hand, his brow furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky grumbles, accepting the hand and letting Steve pull him back to his feet. His ribs ache from the fall, but it wasn’t anything serious. It was more the embarrassment that stung. Bucky didn’t like feeling off his game, and lately, thinking about you was doing just that.

“You weren’t focused,” Steve says, stepping back into position. It wasn’t a question.

Bucky wiped the sweat from his brow, shaking out his arms as if that could somehow reset his mind. “I’m fine. Let’s go again.”

Steve hesitates for a second, then nods, getting back into stance. He could tell something was on Bucky’s mind, but he wasn’t going to push. At least, not right now. Steve knew when to back off, and when to press—though Bucky had a feeling that conversation would come soon enough.

They start again, trading punches and dodges, but Bucky couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts of you. The way you made him feel—safe, seen. The way you’d praise him. God… the way you’d tell him he did a good job after training or a mission,

Just for a second, his mind drifts again— Your pretty eyes, the way they’d look at him like he was something amazing, the smile you’d give him and then he wonders what your face would look like as he dives down deep between your thighs-

Steve’s fist came in fast, and though Bucky manages to block it, he doesn’t account for the follow-up. Steve's knee connects with his side, hitting just below his ribs with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

Bucky staggers back, holding his side with a grimace.

“Whoa, Buck!” Steve stops immediately, hands out in concern. “You good?”

Bucky clenches his jaw, nodding, though his side throbbed. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not fine,” Steve replies, taking a step forward, but Bucky waves him off, frustrated with himself more than anything.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky snaps, turning away for a moment to catch his breath. He hates this. Hates how easily you get into his head, how much he let himself think about you when he was supposed to be focused. It wasn’t like him to get distracted, especially not in a fight.

Steve gives him a long, knowing look. He wasn’t pushing the subject yet, but Bucky could see it in his eyes—Steve had noticed something. And knowing Steve, it wouldn’t be long before he asked about it.

Steve lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “You need to go get that checked out.” He motions to the cut on Bucky’s cheek and his ribs.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky mutters.

Steve doesn’t budge. “Buck, if you don’t get that cleaned up, it’s going to get worse. You’re already bruised, and that cut—” He gestured to Bucky’s face. “—needs to be looked at.”

Bucky was about to argue again when Steve adds, with a pointed look, “Go see her.”

He blinks, his heart suddenly beating faster in his chest. “What?”

“Go see her,” Steve repeats, his voice calm but insistent. “You know she can patch you up. She always does.”

Bucky opens his mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. You always did take care of them after training, offering vitamin drinks or snacks, your touch gentle and your presence calming.

“I don’t need—” Bucky begins, but Steve cuts him off with a significant look.

“Buck, you’re hurt. Let her help you. Besides, we both know she’d want to,” Steve says, his tone softening as he rests a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She cares, man. And you’re not doing yourself any favours by pretending you don’t need her.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his chest tight with a mix of frustration and something else he couldn’t quite name. The truth was, he did want to go to you.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky nods, finally relenting. “Fine.”

Steve smiles, patting him on the shoulder. “Good. Now go get cleaned up. I’ll finish up here.”

Bucky hesitates for a second before turning to leave the training room, his side still aching from the hit.

All he knew was that when he saw you, when you smiled at him with that gentle, understanding look in your eyes, it was going to make it that much harder to keep pretending he didn’t feel anything.

Bucky’s footsteps echo softly through the hall as he makes his way to the infirmary. When he reaches the infirmary door, he gives a soft knock before stepping inside.

You’re there, sitting at your desk with one thigh crossed elegantly over the other, your attention focused on some paperwork in front of you. You’re dressed in your usual professional attire—a fitted dress that hugs your form just enough to hint at your curves beneath your white lab coat. The subtle click of your black heels against the floor when you shift is a small, but noticeable, sound that makes Bucky's heart beat a little faster.

You look up when you hear him enter, that sweet, welcoming smile appearing almost instantly. “Bucky,” you greet warmly, your voice soft. “What brings you in? Did you and Steve go a little too hard today?”

For a second, Bucky just stands there, distracted by how you look. His heart skips a beat as he takes in the sight of you. He notices, maybe for the first time, how the hem of your dress rides up slightly when you cross your legs. He forces himself to look away before you catch him staring.

“Uh, yeah,” he mutters, gesturing vaguely to the cut on his face. “Just a cut… and maybe some bruised ribs.”

You arch an eyebrow, your smile turning a little coy. “Only maybe bruised ribs? Sounds like you need me to take a closer look.”

Bucky blinks, heat creeping up his neck as he tries to decide whether he’s imagining the playful tone in your voice or if it’s actually there. He clears his throat. “Yeah… probably.”

With that, you uncross your legs and stand up, heels clicking softly against the tile floor as you walk over to him. Your movements are graceful, confident, and Bucky feels his pulse quicken as you draw closer. There’s something about the way you carry yourself today—calm, collected, but with an air of subtle suggestion that makes him feel off balance.

You stand just inches away from him, reaching up to gently tilt his chin up so you can inspect the cut above his eyebrow. Your fingers are cool against his sweaty skin, and Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat.

“It’s not deep,” you murmur “But it’s a little more than a scratch. Seems like you need my magic touch~” you wiggle your fingers and Bucky bites back a groan at the subtle implication.

Before Bucky can respond, you place your hand gently over the wound, and he feels a soft, warm tingling sensation spread across his skin. Your healing powers are subtle but effective, and within seconds, the pain is gone, the cut already closing up beneath your touch. He’s experienced your abilities before, but every time he feels a spark from your touch, it’s a simple move but he craves more.

“There we go,” you say softly, removing your hand from his face. Your fingers linger a little longer than usual, trailing down his jaw ever so slightly before you step back, your eyes locking with his for a brief moment.

Bucky swallows hard, trying to shake off the heat rising in his chest. He’s probably imagining it—just reading too much into things. You’re always sweet, always kind and innocent.

Your gaze drops to his side, and you gently brush your hand over his ribs. “Lift your shirt for me?” you ask, your voice light but carrying a tone of suggestion that makes Bucky’s heart skip a beat.

He hesitates for a second, then does as you ask, pulling up his shirt to reveal the dark bruise spreading along his ribs. You make a soft sound of sympathy, a small pout forming on your lips as your pretty eyes lock with his for a moment. You look back down, your fingers grazing his skin as you crouch slightly to get a closer look.

“You really got hit hard,” you murmur, your tone carrying a note of concern but it switches up subtly as you carry on: “Good thing I can take care of you.”

Bucky’s breath hitches. Did he hear that right? Is there something more in your words? You were just talking about the injury right? The way you said it, the way you moved—it feels almost sinful in a way he’s not used to, at least not from you. He tries to keep his focus, but with you this close, your fingers trailing lightly over his bruised skin, it’s damn near impossible.

You place your hand gently over his ribs, your touch soft but firm as you close your eyes for a moment, focusing on healing the injury. Bucky feels the familiar warmth of your powers again, spreading through his body like a gentle wave. The pain begins to melt away, the bruise slowly fading beneath your hand.

“There,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “All better.”

But your hand doesn’t move right away. Instead, it lingers on his ribs for a second too long, your fingertips brushing the edge of his abdomen in a way that makes his breath catch. Then, just as he’s about to say something—anything—you pull away, turning to your desk, palms flat and bending as if you’re looking for something. Bucky’s mind flashes to pulling up your dress and fucking you senseless then and there, his metal hand clenches and he shakes the thought away.

Bucky exhales slowly, trying to calm the sudden storm in his chest. He has to be imagining it, right? You’re just being your usual caring self- but that touch felt different. Everything you’re doing feels different. More intentional. And the way you’d looked at him just now—

He notices you didn’t actually pick anything up from the desk after you’d bent over it a little.

“Alright, just one last check,” you say as you come back to stand in front of him, a small, almost playful smile on your lips. “Let me make sure everything else is fine.” You reach up, your hand lightly brushing against his neck as if you’re checking for tension or soreness. But then, your fingers linger—soft and warm against his skin, trailing slowly down to his collarbone. The touch is innocent enough, but there’s something in the way you do it that makes Bucky’s entire body tense.

You meet his eyes, your expression still sweet and professional, but there’s a hint of something more—something almost teasing in the way you hold his gaze. “Hmm, seems like you’re all healed up,” you murmur, your voice soft but suggestive in a way that makes his pulse race.

Bucky swallows, his throat suddenly dry as he stares at you. For a moment, he can’t move, can’t speak—stuck between the need to figure out if what he’s feeling is real or just in his head. He tries to convince himself it’s all innocent, but the way your hand lingers on his neck, the way your eyes flicker to his lips for the briefest of moments… it leaves him wondering if you aren’t quite as innocent as he thought.

You finally step back, that same sweet smile on your face as if nothing happened. “Take it easy, alright? Don’t push yourself too hard next time.”

Bucky nods, his voice hoarse when he finally speaks. “Yeah… thanks.”

You tilt your head, your smile widening just a little. “Anytime.” You sit down on your chair again, crossing one thigh over the other, it seemed deliberate.

You rest a pencil on your lower lip, teeth grazing it just slightly, pretty eyes on him. Bucky draws in a breath and feels a problem growing between his legs. He spins around to the door, hoping you don’t notice.

As Bucky begins leave you call out once more: “Let me know if you need me Bucky~ you can always come to me”

As Bucky leaves the infirmary, his mind spins. He came in with injuries, but now he has a different kind of problem, he attempts to calm down, the hardness in his pants making it hard to think. Something has shifted between you two, and whether it’s real or just in his imagination, Bucky can’t help but think back to it all. Did you want him too?

That night, Bucky stares at his ceiling, mind flashing back to you at your desk. Why didn’t you pick anything up? Did you forget what you were looking for? The look in your eyes told him you must’ve known what was going through his head.

He groans and pushes his face into his pillow, he thinks back to something that had happened a few days ago. You were giving out some sort of vitamin pill to everyone, when you’d leaned in, lips near his ear as you whispered:

“I saved you the last cherry flavoured one, don’t tell anyone” before winking slightly.

He shivers at the memory; he could smell every inch of you when you leaned in.

He grunts and pushes his face farther into the pillow. Why did you always save the good things for him? Was it on purpose? Whenever you baked you’d give him first pick- he thought you were just being nice, the sweet girl they all know. But the more he thinks about you the more he notices those little things.

Before he had even registered what he was doing, he was standing and making his way to your rooms. You did say he could always come to you. Bucky freezes outside the door when he realises where he was and what he was doing. Was he crazy? How could he come up with an excuse for being at your door at eleven at night? Before he can change his mind and turn around your door opens. There you stood wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top- with no bra.

Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat as his gaze locks on you. The soft glow of your bedside lamp spills over your frame, highlighting the way your sleep shorts hug your hips and your tank top clings to your chest. His mouth goes dry.

You blink at him. “Bucky?” your voice is soft, a hint of curiosity laced in your tone. “Is everything okay? F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you were stood outside my door.

For a moment, all he can do is stare. He knows he should say something, anything, but his mind is scrambling for an excuse—an explanation for why he’s standing at your door in the middle of the night. His thoughts drift back to your touch earlier, the brush of your hand on his neck, and the memory of your lips near his ear just days ago.

You tilt your head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and Bucky swears there’s something teasing in your expression. You step aside, opening the door wider as if you’re inviting him in. “You didn’t have to knock, you know,” you say with that same sweetness. “You can always come to me.”

His heart pounds in his chest, loud enough that he wonders if you can hear it. He swallows, trying to push down the tension, but something in your eyes—something about the way you're looking at him—has his feet moving before his brain catches up.

He steps over the threshold.

Bucky steps inside, the door clicking shut softly behind him. The room is dim, and the soft scent of your perfume lingers in the air, teasing his senses. He watches you as you turn back toward him, your smile still warm, still innocent—at least on the surface.

“So…” you say, your voice soft as you walk a little closer to him, “What brings you here so late, Bucky?” There’s a hint of playfulness in your tone, like you already know the answer but want to hear him say it.

He shifts awkwardly, his eyes darting away from yours. “I… uh, I couldn’t sleep.” His voice comes out rougher than he intended.

“We both know my healing powers can’t help you sleep Bucky. So what’s up with you coming to see lil’. ol’. Me.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but no words come out. His mind is racing—unsure if you're playing a game or if he’s just reading too much into it. His eyes flick down to your tank top, the way it clings to you, the coolness from the hallway had made hard peaks appear on your chest he then glances back to your face. You’re watching him carefully, that same playful glint in your eyes.

You tilt your head slightly, voice soft but teasing. “You’ve been thinking a lot lately, haven’t you?” Your fingers brush lightly against his arm, sending a shiver through him. “About me?”

Bucky feels his pulse quicken. He’s certain now—there’s no way he’s imagining it.

“I—” He swallows hard, trying to find the right words. But before he can, you step even closer, your body inches from his now, your hand lingering on his arm.

“You think I didn’t notice?” You ask sweetly

Bucky’s breath hitches as your words sink in, and his chest tightens, the space between you suddenly feeling far too small. His mind is racing, but his body is rooted in place, drawn to you in a way he can’t explain. He tries to speak, to form some kind of coherent response, but his voice fails him.

“You think I didn’t notice?” you ask again, your voice low, sweet, but with a teasing edge that makes Bucky’s heart race. Your hand is still resting lightly on his arm, your touch burning through his skin despite the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of your body is so close now, and Bucky is overwhelmed by the scent of you—intoxicating, pulling him deeper into the moment. He can feel himself grow hard at the simple touch, he want’s your hands all over him. He just needs to feel you touch him.

He stares down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the way your lips curve into that soft, knowing smile. You tilt your head up slightly, your eyes locking with his, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just the two of you, standing impossibly close, the air between you thick with tension.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, but Bucky hears every word. “I notice where your eyes go when I wear a skirt or dress, if I bend over or wear anything even remotely low cut.”

He swallows hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. He wants to say something, to explain himself, to apologize, but he can’t—because the truth is, you’re right. He has been looking at you, watching you, craving your presence without ever fully admitting it to himself.

You shift even closer, your chest almost brushing against his, and Bucky’s breath catches as your fingers slowly trail up his arm, lingering at his shoulder. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep control of himself. The way you’re looking at him, your lips parted slightly, your eyes holding his like they’re daring him to make the next move…

He’s losing it.

“You don’t have to hide it,” you whisper, your voice laced with that same soft, teasing edge. Your hand moves up to his neck now, your fingertips brushing the sensitive skin just below his jaw. “You can tell me what you want, Bucky…”

He whines.

Before the embarrassment can hit him you let out a low groan at the sound. “Fuck…”

Bucky’s breath comes out in a shudder, his self-control hanging by a thread. He feels the warmth of your hand against his neck, the way your touch lingers just a second too long, and it sends a wave of heat rushing through him.

He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already moving, closing the last bit of space between you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and Bucky’s resolve crumbles. He can’t hold back anymore.

His hand reaches out almost instinctively, fingers gently curling around your waist, pulling you closer. He leans down, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches from your lips, his heart pounding in his chest.

“You…” His voice is low, strained, as if he’s barely holding on. “You’re driving me crazy, doll.”

You smile, and the look in your eyes—soft, teasing, and just a little wicked—sends him over the edge.

Bucky leans to close the gap but your finger presses against his lips. A frown forms on his face, and then you speak.

“ah ah ah” you shake your head “we ask for what we want”

Bucky mentally scolds himself for not asking, he was in the moment.

“May I kiss you?” he asks.

“Say please” there was an unexpected dominance to your tone, completely wiping out the innocence.

Oh fuck.

Bucky feels himself grow harder at the tone. He’s momentarily stunned. Your pretty eyes are on him, feigning innocence but there’s something sinful hiding in them. His beautiful blue eyes look down at you, filled with need.

“Please?”

You let out a moan at the word, your body heating up, your core dampens your shorts.

“Fuck… Bucky…” You say breathily before you pull him down a little to reach your height and kiss him. It’s gentle, as though you’re teasing him, giving him a glimpse to what he can have. He just needs to ask politely.

“Doll… please… I…” He struggles to get his words out, brain fogged over from all the sensations hitting him at once. You run your hands along his abs and he whines again. The whine shoots straight through you. Bucky Barnes, the worlds most accomplished assassin is whining for you.

“Please what? Good boys use their words.” You say in a sinfully soft voice that sends a shiver down his spine.

“I need… more… please” He whispers your name at the end and you hum, satisfied. You grasp his hand and it feels so good to him. Too good. He follows you as you pull him towards the bed.

“Sit there. Lean against the headboard” you hum and he immediately does as he’s told. Sure, he was a super solider who could overpower you in a second, you were both aware. But you were both also aware that he didn’t want that. He needed you to guide him.

You plant yourself in his lap, straddling him, before letting out a soft hum as you feel his hardness push against your core over your sleep shorts. Bucky lets out a moan at the contact but you’re quick to swallow it with a deep, heated kiss. His hands claw at your hips and you gasp slightly as the metal of his hand touches your skin. He’s quick to pull it away but you’re quicker, gripping his wrist and shaking your head, guiding it back in place.

You continue the kiss, before taking his lower lip in between your teeth. You open your eyes to see his blue ones are locked onto your own in what can only be described as the hottest, neediest way, his pupils dilated. You lick over his lip before your hand snakes around the back of his neck and up to his hair. You gently tug, its light, testing the waters and his lips part, head nodding. You pull his hair back a little harsher and he moans. You laugh, the sound dark and sinful in Bucky’s ears.

Your lips kiss his earlobe. “You like your hair pulled? Dirty boy~”

He moans again and nods, hands gripping your hips a little harder, pulling you down to grind on him. You make a ‘tsk’ sound and he freezes, quickly remembering your rule.

You get off him and he groans at the loss of contact, his needy eyes falling onto you. You slowly pull down your shorts, revealing your core to him. His breathing quickens, cock twitching and straining against his sweatpants.

“Take your clothes off, honey” your sultry voice fills his ears and he does so immediately, stripping off his shirt first, exposing the honey toned abs with numerous scars here and there. He is beautiful and you let it show on your face. He drags down his sweatpants leaving him in his grey boxers. There’s a dark damp spot on them from his arousal, pre-cum weeping through from the tip. You make a gesture for him to keep going and he obliges, dragging the boxers down. He stands there, glorious cock hard against his abdomen, looking at you, waiting for your next command.

“What do you want? You just need to ask” You inquire, goading him to tell you.

He swallows, looking down at your dripping core and then back to his cock. You fully expect him to ask to fuck you based on his expression, but he shocks you.

“Can I taste you please?”

Your eyes widen briefly, stunned at his choice.

“I’m sorry— if you don’t want—“ He begins to speak but you cut him off with a finger to your lips and standing up. You slowly peel off your shorts, leaning against the wall.

“You asked me so nicely.” You beckon him and the speed in which he’s on his knees in front of you has your legs weak. His hands skim over your thighs, leaving Goosebumps in their wake. “Is this what you want?”

Bucky looks up at you with desperate eyes, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Yes, please” His voice is hoarse.

“You wanna make me feel good?” You coo.

Bucky groans, his hands gripping your thighs a little. “More than anything” He confirms.

You nod, giving your permission and he settles in between your thighs. He grasps your ass, pulling you up so your legs are over his shoulders, his head cradled by your thighs. You’re momentarily stunned, briefly forgetting he’s a super soldier with insane strength. The thought goes right to your core. Your back is against the wall, his hands still firm on your ass, keeping you in place. Bucky’s breath ghosts across your core before he looks up at you. The sight was nearly enough to make you come. With a firm squeeze on your ass, he dives in, licking a stripe up your lips, making you gasp and weave your fingers through his hair. He groans and begins to lap at your clit like a man starved. He occasionally moans and groans, letting you know how much he’s enjoying being between your legs.

“Bucky— oh my god” You moan out. This only drives him more, he focuses his tongue on your bundle of nerves and you see stars.

He is good at this.

Really fucking good.

Too good?

It doesn’t take you long to come at all, you grasp his hair tighter, thighs squeezing around his head in a way that makes his cock twitch against his abdomen. He rides you through your orgasm until you’re squirming and too sensitive.

He pulls back, holding you up still, and looks into your eyes. The lower part of his face is sinfully wet, he gives you a charming smile, eyes still betraying his neediness.

“You did so well… so good for me…” You breathe out and a strangled noise escapes him.

A praise kink.

“You did so so good for me Bucky~ You deserve a reward” You coo, getting off his shoulders and standing up. You tilt his head up with your finger. “You want a reward baby?”

Bucky lets out a breathy noise and nods.

“What do you want? I’ll give you whatever you want”

Bucky Looks up at you, standing up. He shocked you again.

“Please doll… sit on my face… if… you want…” He adds the last part, unsure. All he knows is that being in between your thighs, hearing you, feeling you, giving you pleasure is all he wants right now.

You bite back a groan and nod, watching him scramble to the bed, laying on his back. He’s gloriously naked, thick cock incredibly hard and standing to attention. You crawl up his body, making sure to brush up against his length to hear those delicious whines from him. His hips buck a few times against you and then you’re settled just above his face. You look down at him and he looks ravenous— His desperate eyes flicking from your core to your face. His hands keep flexing as he struggles, wanting nothing more than to pull you down onto his face and hold you there until he can’t breathe.

“You can touch me Buck” you say softly and his hands hesitantly settle on your hips. He pauses before it eventually becomes too much and pulls you down onto his face, groaning at the impact. You don’t move much, assuming he wants to take the lead when he speaks, muffled against your core.

You giggle and look at him innocently. “Sorry honey what was that? I can’t understand you~”

His eyes grow even more needy, looking up at you. He speaks, muffled again before he decided to lift you up just enough to speak.

“Move— please. Grind on my face. Use me to come please”

How could you say no to such a beautiful request?

You settle back down and rock your hips. His tongue moves with the same finesse and you can’t help but wonder if he’s tired. He doesn’t look tired. You move his arms so he’s holding them up and you entwine your fingers, using his arms to keep you upright, moving against him. His eyes are fluttering shut in pleasure and you groan. You make quick work of your shirt, leaving you both naked now.

“Eyes open Bucky~ I thought you wanted to see what you do to me?~” You tease.

His eyes shoot open again, pupils dilated, his eyes more black than blue now.

“Good~ So good to me” You breathe out and he moans against you, making you gasp and your hips stutter. You grip his hands tighter. His pretty eyes are begging you to come and you do, thighs once again squeezing around his head, making him feel dizzy. Your hips are bucking against his face not even thinking about his breathing— but that isn’t on Bucky’s mind either. You ride out your orgasm and get off him, falling on your back, breathing erratic.

Bucky lays there with the lower half of his face wet, stubble and all. His breathing is erratic and his cock is painfully hard against his abdomen.

“Holy shit Bucky” You huff out and a hoarse moan leaves his mouth.

He slots himself between your legs, kissing your shoulder, slowly moving down your body until he’s at your hip, kissing it softly.

“You are so beautiful doll” His eyes are sincere and your cheeks feel hot at the compliment. “One more time? Please?” He asks, eyes pleading.

Sweet mother of Jesus.

“You want— you seriously— you want to eat me out again?” Your eyes are wide.

Bucky nods, nuzzling and kissing your thigh before focusing on your face again. “And to fuck you with my fingers if that’s alright with you doll?”

Sweet. Mother. Of. Jesus.

Your brain short circuits for a moment at the words leaving his mouth and you mindlessly nod, your gaze heated and intense.

He runs a finger along your dripping core and he moans. Was he really getting this much pleasure? You hadn’t even touched him at all. He teases your entrance before sinking a finger in softly. He hisses at how tight it is, his cock twitching. You let out a soft breathy moan at the feeling, instinctively reaching for his hair. Bucky peppers kisses on your thighs before he begins pumping his finger.

It’s not enough.

“More” You demand, gripping his hair. Bucky is happy to oblige, pushing a second finger in, your toes curling. “oh god yes”

Bucky begins to curl his fingers, brushing up against your sweet spot as he increases his pace a fraction and you cry out.

“Am I doing good?” His husky voice asks, desperate for praise.

“So good baby, so fucking good. You’re so good to me” You moan out and he snaps, thrusting his fingers into you with a little more force and latching his mouth onto your clit. You’re so sensitive at this point you let out a whine, your words not coherent. You didn’t even know it was possible to come this many times before being fucked. The coil in your stomach feels more intense than you have ever felt before, you tighten around his fingers and before you could warn him, he pulls away, watching the liquid squirt from you in awe. You, on the other hand are glassy eyed and trembling afterwards.

Bucky gives you a few minutes to settle before he brings himself back up to your face, you pull him in for a messy kiss. His cock is settled on your thigh, Bucky whines into the kiss and you can feel him jutting against it. You grasp his chin as he kisses you, feeling his length as he desperately claims whatever friction he can get.

Bucky is surprised at himself. There has never been a time in his life where he has felt the need to dry hump a woman. But you have the best ways of bringing new feelings and actions out of him.

“Please” He says softly.

“Oh you’re so worked up honey. After doing such a good job. Take what you want Bucky” you coo, stroking his cheek and he leans into it before settling his hips between your legs.

“Can I… are you okay if I…” He begins and you nod.

“You’ve more than earned it” You rake your hands through his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

In an attempt to ground himself, He places his hands on your headboard, letting you guide his cock into place. He pushes in and groans, immediately shattering the headboard where his hands were.

Oh lord.

You squeeze around him and let out a breathy, aroused giggle. Bucky on the other hand looks mortified.

“Oh my god doll I am so sorry—“ He goes to pull out of you but you grasp his arms and shake your head. He doesn’t take much convincing before he pushes into you fully. He’s panting and rests his forehead on yours. Even with the fingers stretching you earlier, you need to adjust. The super solider cock is no joke.

You moan encouragingly in his ear and he pulls back softly before pushing back in. Your eyes flutter and Bucky has his trained solely on you and your reactions.

“Am I hurting you, doll?” He asks, breathily, stopping his motions.

You shake your head immediately. “Please don’t stop”

He keeps his strength in check, bracing on the half broken headboard again, his hands slotting into the Bucky sized hand holes in them. He uses a leisurely pace that does hit the spot, but it’s not quite enough. You could tell he was holding back for your sake but you needed to see just how much he needed you.

“Harder Bucky~ Fuck. I can take it— please”

The headboard crushes even more at your words, your legs were wound around his hips, he leans forward, wrapping his arms around you, his face buried in your neck as he desperately thrusts into you. It’s hard and fast, a string of moans and curses leaving your mouth as you can’t move in his grip, all you can do is take it. You’re seeing stars now, as Bucky is whining and muttering praises in your ear.

“You feel so good doll”

“I would do this forever… beautiful beautiful girl”

And lastly:

“Oh god thank you” He repeats the phrase a few times and your head spins.

He’s fucking thanking you.

You manage to moan out a few praises that are punctuated by his sharp needy thrusts. He pulls his face away from his neck when he’s close. You can see it on his face, begging you to come first. He slips his metal hand down to your clit, stroking the already sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes widen at the coolness against it.

“Please come” He moans and it doesn’t take you long to oblige his plea, the metal hand on your clit, the whines from Bucky and his cock hitting you deep pushes you over the edge and you come, clenching him hard.

“You’re so beautiful” He says in awe. “Please can I come— please doll” Bucky’s thrusts are faltering.

“fill me up Bucky~” You moan and that’s all it takes, his thrusts become harder, your body jolting from the force, you’ll feel this in your hips in the morning. You could always heal it away. But you probably won’t. You place a hand over his neck holding it loosely, your other hand raking through his hair.

Bucky thrusts into you hard and deep, with hoarse moans of thank you as he comes inside you, filling you up. He simply stays inside you after, his body moving with his deep ragged breaths before he collapses on top of you, making sure to use some strength to stop him crushing you. You stroke his hair, muttering soft praises.

He rolls off you, his honey toned skin covered in a sheen of sweat that made him look godly. Your legs are jelly; you aren’t even sure you can use them for the next few days. Bucky stands and walks to your bathroom, giving you the perfect view of his sculpted ass and returns a few moments later with a warm wet cloth to clean you up with.

When the both of you are cleaned up, Bucky begins to wipe away the crushed pieces of headboard from your bed sheepishly.

“Sorry doll” He says quietly.

“It’s okay” You assure. “It was hot. Made me feel like Bella Swan” You joke.

Bucky looks at you, not understanding the reference.

“From Twi… never mind” You hum, helping to brush off the little pieces of wood. He lays back down and pulls you into his arms.

“Doll… I… I have never felt like that before. What did you do to me? I am under a spell when it comes to you.”

You yawn and let out a sleepy laugh. “You’re telling me. I don’t think I could sleep with a regular dude again after that”

It’s not long until exhaustion rushes through you. Super solider stamina is no joke. You drift off, head on his chest. Bucky watches the soft rise and fall of your chest, your soft snores filling the room.

And for the first time in what feels like forever; Bucky has a deep, dreamless sleep. His nightmares paused as he slumbers beside your soft, warm body.

It’s late when Bucky wakes up. Your side of the bed is cold. He glances at the clock on his phone, reading 11:07am, and a text from you, timestamped two hours ago:

‘Morning sleepy head. I didn’t wanna wake you. You looked too comfortable ;)’

He smiles at the text and looks for his clothes, only to find you must have taken a trip to his room to grab some fresh clothes. There is a towel on a chair with a new set of clean clothes and a pair of boxers.

When he’s all cleaned up and dressed he makes his way to the kitchen. You’re talking to Wanda, Steve and Sam.

“Bucky good morning!” Your sweet voice drifts over to him. “You slept in late. Are you feeling okay? Late night?” It’s an innocent question, no one bats an eyelash at it. You’re the healer of the team, and you’re concerned. But Bucky bites back a groan at the implications they both know is behind the sweet words.

Before Bucky can respond, Tony walks in.

“Hey Hippocrates” Tony calls out to you. “Why did F.R.I.D.A.Y tell me you needed a new headboard for your bed?

Oops.

-END-

[buckysslut]

HIII i was the anon that sent the clingy bucky ask, im talking sweet bucky!!! but he’s also got his cock stuffed inside you. so both basically like u said. he would whisper sweet nothings like “love u mama..ur pussy feels so good wrapped around me..” “god..fuck..d-don’t do that..mommyyy…(you tightened around him). while his face is nuzzled in ur tits. cockwarming and sweet talk! lots of fondling and body worship, he likes to squish the squishy parts of u :3

also i’ll be visiting often..I LOVE UR WRITING!! could i pls be 🐺 anon? if it isn’t taken already.

"S-shit, honey.. C'mon.. don't do this to me.." He whines, burying his nose further into your neck as your hips roll against his own. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you as close as he physically could, as if trying to meld your bodies together with his touch. You moan breathily, the sound going straight through Bucky and causing the sluttiest whimper to fall from his perfect, pink lips. His hands grasp at you waist so desperately, as if you'd vanish into thin air if his grip faltered in the slightest. "Shit, baby boy.. doin' so well.. you fill mama up so good, angel.." You whine, rolling your hips lazily as you warm him. His face moves from the crook of your neck down to your tits, sluggishly and unrushedly sucking at the flesh, dark purple love bits beginning to form under his teeth. "Your pussy feels so good, Mommy.. strangling my cock.." He chokes out in an utterly pathetic whine, face nuzzled between the warmth of your boobs. "There ya' go.. such a good boy.. such a shame you won't be cummin' tonight.. Now don't you whine at me, I did warn you that you'd be in trouble for draggin' me home just cause you felt all hard and subby.."

(A/N: hii! sorry, very slowly gettingt thru requests and yes ofc u can be wolf anon!!)

Tags: @chrisevansleftnipple , @homiesexual-or-homosexual , @httpsells , @avengemepercy , @raikan624 , @multiversefanfics , @majulians-groupie ' @maryevm , @grilledcheesewithjalapeno , @yaboyguzma69 , @hopeofwinter , @buckybarnesslutshop , @iamthatonefangirl , @themidnightblog01

[thewinterdrafts]

Flesh and Metal | The White Wolf

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (1st Person)

Word Count: 6,062

Summary: Bucky Barnes is everything you ever wanted—soft, thoughtful, devoted. He loves you with a quiet intensity that should make you feel like the luckiest person alive. But after so many months of being together, he still hasn’t touched you. Not like that. When you finally confront him, you realize the truth is so much deeper. He does want you. He just doesn’t know how to ask. And tonight, for the first time—he’s finally ready to give in.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Sub!Bucky (lots of begging you guys), Angst, Swearing, Dominance & submission dynamics, Self-doubt & insecurity, Trauma responses & PTSD, Fear of abandonment & rejection, BDSM themes (light control, praise, permission-based dynamics), Overstimulation & begging, Implied past abuse

A/N: hey guys! this is my first ever story here, and i've worked so hard on it, my brain might dissolve through my ears tonight. i hope you'll like it, happy reading 🤍

📍Masterlist

It has been four months. Four months and one day, to be exact, since Bucky Barnes became mine. I’ve never heard so many people congratulate me and warn me in the same breath, but I never cared. Not when he’s been so precious, so thoughtful, so achingly romantic. Not when he’s spent every single day making me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

I love him more than life itself. And with him—life and death feel closer than they should.

So why does it feel like I’m still not enough?

Four months, and he hasn't touched me. Not once. Not like that. 

Every time I try, every time I lean in, every time I press just a little too close, he pulls away. Sometimes subtly, sometimes not. Sometimes it’s a hesitant step back, sometimes it’s a firm grip on my wrist, pushing me away just enough to make it clear.

I tried everything. Cute lingerie. Whispered invitations. I even got my hair done for our anniversary last night. Nothing helped, I couldn't shake his composed demeanor, no matter what I did.

Maybe, he doesn’t want me at all. Why would he?

The Bucky Barnes could have anyone. Someone like Natasha—gorgeous, cool, effortlessly magnetic. The kind of woman who could hold her own against a super soldier, the kind who wouldn’t hesitate. The kind who makes sense with him.

Me on the other hand? What was I thinking, believing I would be enough? Just a simple girl, coming from a boring family, with no interesting backstory, nothing to show, nothing to–

"Baby?" Bucky put his face an inch from mine, which immediately snapped me out of my spiralling thoughts. "You okay? Is your stomach upset?" He pointed to the remaining of mac and cheese he cooked. 

He grew to be extremely good at reading my expressions over the past few months. He usually doesn't need to ask; he just knows what's wrong, and eliminates the problem without a word. This time, though, he didn't know. How could he?

"No," I say flatly.

"Sure? Because–"

"I am fine," I snap, louder than anticipated. 

I immediately regret my tone when I see Bucky stiffen, the sound of his metal arm clenching into an unbreakable fist. He takes exactly three steps back from me; measured and calculated. His eyes terrified; I can almost see how he is searching for the possible threats or punishments he would receive, now that he senses the change in the mood. He's still as a sculpture, except for the arms; they are shaking from how strongly he is sqeezing his fist.

Oh, I fucked up.

"I'm sorry. It's just been a really hard week on me, I-"

"You're hurt." 

It's not a question, it's a fact.

"I'm not hurt–"

"I hurt you."

It's not a fact, it's a crime. At least that's how he says it.

I look down to the tiled floor where I can still spot the signs of Bucky's cooking. I cannot look at him. I would need to lie to his face and that is one thing I was never able to do. Not after what he's been through. 

I notice a small movement from him as he takes another step; farther. Way farther away from me. I take a deep breath and force myself to look at him, wishing I didn't as the sight instantly breaks my heart; his eyes are filled with tears, and he's so confused. Scared. Terrified of what is coming. He's gripping onto the side of his shirt, like he always does when he feels unsafe. A lump forms in my throat as I try to open my mouth to speak. I've ruined him. 

"I– uh." The sound I made was barely a whisper, but it made him visibly flinch. "Do you... Do you not... want me?"

Bucky's terrified gaze turns into utter confusion in a matter of seconds. He blinks – for the first time in maybe minutes – as he's struggling to understand my question. I collect all my leftover courage and hope to keep talking. 

"You push me away," I say, trying to be as soft as possible. "We've been together for months, but never... together."

I feel so stupid for not being able to just straight out say it. I'm hoping he somehow understands what I mean, but judging by his scrunched eyebrows, I'm gonna have to be more specific.

 I let out a big sigh and close my eyes to make the embarrassment less painful. "Bucky, we never had sex." 

As soon as the words leave my mouth, his face drops. I lose him again somewhere very far away from me, and he keeps looking at me like I am about to destroy him completely. 

"If you don't want me, that's okay," I assure him, ignoring the bitter taste in my mouth. "I know I'm not the prettiest girl, and you've probably seen better—"

"No!" he snaps, so I lift my head up. He looks horrified, like I've just said something unspeakable. I wait for him to continue, but instead, he keeps staring at me, as if his eyes could tell everything he is unable to.

"No?" I echo. "Then why do you run every time I try to touch you like that?"

He breaks the eye contact by strictly looking at the kitchen counter right in front of him; or at anything that is not me. From all the months I've spent in his presence, I recognize this look too well. He's ashamed. 

"Bucky..."

Silence. He grips the fabric of his shirt, twisting it in his hands. A nervous tick, but to him, a grounding mechanism. He's really trying not to lose himself.

"I—, I don't—," he stutters. "I don't know how."

"What?" I blink. “Bucky, you’ve—” I hesitate. “You’ve been with other women before.”

His head jerks up with a flicker of panic and frustration.

 “That’s not—that’s different.”

“Different how?”

Bucky is refusing to look at me, so I stand up from my seat to make way towards him. He takes a sharp breath when I'm within his reach, but doesn't move. That's a good sign. 

"Look at me, baby," I ask, softly. His eyes snap up instantly, and I see it all there. The fear, the desperation, the battlefield in his head. "Tell me what's wrong."

He tries to do so; he opens his mouth, swallows, exhales, shakes his head, tries again, but he fails, no matter how hard he tries.

"Do you want me?" I ask bluntly.

He nods, still staring at the marble countertop. Okay.

"Are you scared to ask for what you want?"

Another nod. 

"Do you trust me?"

This one is instant.

"Yes."

"Then tell me."

He lets out a shaky breath before he swallows. He turns his head to me, face flustered, his chest moving up and down as he tries to regulate himself.

"Please, can you—," his voice dies before he can finish. He clearly is struggling, like he doesn't know how to want things and the fact breaks a small part of my heart permanently.

"Go on, Bucky. What do you need?" I encourage him.

"I—," he stutters, and then shakes his head hard, like the words are physically hurting him inside his head.

 His body, however, tells the truth on behalf of him. The way his hands tremble and his chest heaves with each exhale, the way his metal fingers twitch against his thigh—he is fighting himself.

I let the silence stretch, waiting, watching the way his face twists with frustration, with hesitation. With want.

“Baby,” I say softly.

His eyes cracks open, blue burning with something raw, something pleading. He sucks in a breath, and for a moment, I think he finally gives in, but then he shakes his head again, hard, turning his face away.

I click my tongue, grabbing his chin, forcing him to meet my gaze. “You want something. I can see it. I can feel it.”

His chest rises sharply, lips parting, but still, he doesn't speak. I lean in, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. 

“Do you need me to guide you?”

His entire body jerks, a sharp inhale ripping from his throat. His fingers are clenching into fists, the tremor rolling through his shoulders like a quake. But he still doesn't answer me.

My grip tightens slightly, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Bucky, if you don’t tell me what you need, I can’t give it to you.”

He exhales shakily, a frustrated, broken sound. His brows knit together, his hands lifting before falling back to his thighs, his whole frame trembling.

“Please,” he whispers.

My heart clenches. “Yes?”

His head dropped forward, breath ragged. “Please… please tell me what to do.”

Oh. 

Oh, fuck.

I smile, slow and knowing, letting the moment stretch, letting him feel the weight of what he's just asked for.

“I’ll show you.” I say, and I find my voice firm. Commanding.

His breath stutters, his entire body tensing, every muscle coiled tight with restraint, with hesitation. He’s fighting it, clinging to the instinct to resist—until I lean in, my mouth brushing over the shell of his ear.

 “If you'll be a good boy for me.”

The sound he makes—soft, broken, fucking relieved—rips through me like a shockwave. My core tightens, ignites, burns, a volcano threatening to erupt at the sheer power of it. 

Bucky Barnes is submissive. For me. 

"Follow me," I say, and as if I freed him from an invisible curse, he makes his way after me.

All at once, every doubt I ever had—about myself, about us—disintegrates. How did I not see this before? How could I have been so blind? He doesn’t need distance. He doesn’t need time. He just needs me. Me in control. Me guiding him. Me telling him exactly what to do.

And fuck, if that isn’t the most intoxicating realization of all, I don't know what is.

I may not be the most experienced woman alive, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that he needs me to be present. He needs me to take this. Own this. There’s no room for doubt, no room to shy away, when he trusts me to take care of him.

I release him just to check his expression, searching for even the slightest hint of hesitation, but to my surprise, I find none. Not a single trace. His eyes track my every movement, locked onto me like a soldier awaiting an order.

And it shouldn't turn me on the way it does.

"Do you want me right now?" My voice is steady, even as I close the space between us, just by one step. 

His gaze sweeps over me, dragging from my lips, to my throat, to my body before he gives a sharp, assured nod.

 "Then take off my dress." 

He moves instantly, without hesitation—like he’s been waiting for this since the moment he met me. His fingers find the hem of my dress; his touch cautious, reverent, like he’s afraid I might pull away at any second. Like he can’t quite believe this is happening.

The contrast of his warm, flesh hand on one thigh, and his ice-cold vibranium fingers on the other, sends a shiver tearing down my spine. Slowly, deliberately, he lifts the fabric over my head, the brush of his knuckles against my skin leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Once I’m bare before him, he takes a small step back—just to look. His lips part slightly, his breathing uneven, chest rising and falling faster, deeper. His eyes—piercing, devastating—roam every inch of me, burning me from the inside out.

And then, he moves.

He throws the dress across the room without looking, never once taking his eyes off of me. His entire body is vibrating, like he’s barely holding himself together, barely restraining the need thrumming beneath his skin.

The sight of him is stealing every breath I have left.

“Can I take your shirt off?” I break the silence, my own voice softer now.

“Please,” he begs.

I waste no time. I step in, close enough for his ragged breath to ghost over my skin, and strip him bare. It’s a summer night, so he’s only wearing a thin, black V-neck, already clinging to the sweat on his chest–or at least, he was. With one fluid motion, I pull it over his head and let it drop to the floor.

I take a moment, just a few seconds, to admire him.

His body is all strength, broad shoulders and sculpted muscle carved by battle and time. Scars litter his skin, testaments to wars fought and survived, and yet, under the soft glow of the moonlight, he looks like something untouchable. Ethereal. Unreal.

I swallow hard, licking my lips as my gaze travels downward, over his defined abs, the way they tense under my attention, down to the dark trail of hair that disappears beneath the waistband of his boxers. I feel it then—the heat pooling low, the unbearable pulse between my thighs. And he’s just standing there, watching me, eyes so dark they’re nearly black.

I’m already so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing.

"Undress me," I whisper. 

His breath catches, eyes flash with hunger, the way they always do when he wants but won’t take. But this time, he moves.

With careful fingers, he reaches behind me for the clasp of my bra, hesitant yet desperate. This is as far as we’ve ever gone. Four months of waiting, of skirting the edge, of Bucky refusing to let himself see me without clothes. Back then, I thought it was because he didn’t want me, because I wasn’t enough.

But now? Now I know the truth. He wouldn’t have known what to do. He was afraid to ruin this. Afraid to ruin me.

I snap out of my thoughts as I feel the cold air of the AC dance on my bare torso. My nipples instantly harden as a result, and Bucky notices it just as quickly. His lips are apart, and he's staring at them like an animal on his prey. The way he wants me fills me with every ounce of confidence I’ve ever needed.

"You can touch them," I whisper, not sure he even heard me, but then he takes two steps towards, putting his flesh hand on my waist.

I gasp, the breath catching in my throat as his warm, steady touch trails up my skin. His movements are slow—painfully, torturously slow—like he’s memorizing me with his hands, drinking me in through touch alone. He reaches my left breast and he cups it, his thumb immediately finding my hard nipple. His breath shudders, sharp and heavy, his chest rising with a strained inhale as he circles my achingly hard peak with his thumb, teasing, testing, learning me.

I struggle to hold in my moan, my teeth sinking into my lip as he pinches it, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight between my legs. And fuck, he’s watching. His vibranium arm remains stiff at his side, fingers curled into a tight, trembling fist, his jaw slightly slack, his lips parted as he watches himself touch me.

He’s fascinated. Hypnotized. Like this is the first time he’s ever allowed himself to truly want something.

"Both hands, please." My voice is barely a whisper, barely a sound, just a needy, broken plea. His head snaps up, and for the first time in what feels like forever, his eyes meet mine.

His metal hand, still clenched in restraint, relaxes. With slow, careful hesitation, he brings it up, inch by inch, his fingertips skimming my ribs before finally—finally—he touches me. A shiver rips through me, my body instinctively arching into the icy contrast of metal against my heated skin. I don’t pull away; if anything, I lean into him, chasing the sensation, craving more.

"You're being so good for me," I praise, my voice low.

Bucky fucking breaks.

His entire body stutters, trembles; his breath hitching, his knees nearly buckling beneath him as a wrecked, desperate whimper falls from his lips.

Fuck. That has to be the sexiest sound in the world.

“Can I—” His voice cracks, his fingers flexing against my skin. “Can I please kiss you?”

He is pleading, over and over, his voice shaky, utterly undone.

“Please, I need it. Please.”

His words shoot straight to my core, the need in his voice a direct pulse between my legs. I want him so much, I might sublime from the heat he ignites inside me.

I don’t hesitate. I grab his arm, pulling him against me, forcing his bare chest to crash into mine. He melts against me, his body burning, muscles taut, already trembling with restraint. And then, I kiss him. Or maybe he kisses me. Either way, the moment our lips meet, Bucky loses himself.

He kisses me like he’s starving, like he’s drowning and I’m his only air. His mouth is hungry, relentless, desperate, lips crashing into mine as he’s trying to devour me whole.

And fuck, his hands.

They roam everywhere, one gripping the small of my back, the other skimming just beneath my panties, teasing, taunting me, and just when I think it couldn't get any better, his metal hand clamps around my ass, gripping tight, keeping me steady. Feeling the cool vibranium pressing into my heated skin, I moan straight into his mouth, my body shuddering in his hold.

“Put me on the bed. Now.”

The words leave me in a command, and Bucky moves before I can even take another breath. With one arm, just one, he lifts me with ease, like I weigh nothing to him. He lays me down, gentle but firm, already moving to cover me with his body—but I stop him.

“Not yet.”

I shake my head, and he immediately halts, his breathing labored, controlled. He looks wrecked, like he's using every bit of self control to keep himself away from me. Still kneeling between my legs, still so fucking obedient, and yet—his eyes. His fucking eyes, they’re eating me alive.

“Take it off,” I order, nodding toward his jeans.

Bucky keeps his eyes locked on mine, hands trailing down, slow and deliberate as he reaches for the button of his jeans. With a quick flick of his fingers, they’re undone. His piercing gaze never leaves me, his eyes dragging over every inch of my body, devouring, worshipping.

I don't have much time before he stands up and slowly pushes his jeans down. I gasp when I see the thin, black material of his boxers that do nothing to hide him. The thick, heavy outline of him, pressing against the fabric, takes my breath away.

I’ve never seen him like this before. Not even close. I’ve felt him—hard, pressing against me on nights where he’d let himself have just a little. But then he would stop and shut it down. I couldn't understand why, not until now, and I don't have one second to think about it, because he pushes his boxers down. His cock is finally bared to me in full, and Jesus fucking Christ.

He is huge. How is that gonna fit?

“Please,” I hear a small plea towards him, and I shot my eyes back to his face. 

His breath is wild, erratic, chest heaving like he can’t get enough air, like he’s on the edge of breaking. His flesh hand is poised, ready to touch himself, to relieve even an ounce of the pressure, but he doesn't. Not without my word. I bite my lip, reveling in the power of it, in the way his entire body trembles under restraint.

“Take this off, too,” I instruct, gesturing to the lace panties that I’d bought months ago—back when I thought he’d see them then.  Back when I thought we’d be here so much sooner. 

But I don’t have a single complaint left in my body, because when Bucky finally moves—he rips them off. The thin fabric tears from me in one sharp pull, and for a split second, I wonder if he just ripped them in half.

His eyes drag over me, drinking in every inch of bare skin, mapping the places he’s never let himself truly look at before. I feel just how wet I am, now that there’s nothing to soak up the slick. I can feel it all pooling between my thighs, proof of just how badly I want him.

A flicker of  shyness grips me—how did I get this lucky? How did I end up with him, undone and starving, in front of me? But I don’t let myself hide; instead, I sit up slowly, deliberately, my movements calculated, letting myself kneel on the soft mattress.

I look up at him, like I could devour him with a single breath. The six-foot-tall ex-assassin is towering over me, radiating pure heat, his entire body coiled tight like a predator barely holding back.

And then, soft as a prayer, I say, “I want you.”

As if I’ve broken a curse, Bucky snaps. His fingers clamp around my throat, his mouth slamming into mine, the sheer force of it knocking me back onto the bed. He pins me down, all of his weight pressing into me, heavy, suffocating, absolutely fucking perfect. The way he kisses me makes me crazy; he's hungry, possessive, and so filthy, I can only moan as a response.

His cock, thick and heavy, sliding between my soaking slit, his length gliding right over my clit with each slow, torturous grind.

“Fuck—” I moan straight into his mouth, my hips instinctively tilting up, chasing every ounce of friction he gives me.

I lose every bit of control I had left. Overcome with greed, I grab at him, pull at him, take as much as I can. My fingers tangle in his long hair, keeping him locked to me, refusing to let him break the kiss for even a second. 

I let my other hand wander; I trace the sharp lines of his back, trailing lower, until my palm finds his ass. I squeeze, hard, forcing him to rock against me even harder, dragging his cock rougher, deeper through my slick folds. My breathing is a wreck, my body moving instinctively, clinging to him, needing more, more, more.

I want him. All over me. Inside me. Taking me apart.

“Can I—” His voice shatters, breathless. He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes wrecked with need.

“Can I please put it in?”

And fuck, he looks at me like a puppy, wide-eyed, begging.

“Please, I’ll make you feel so good,” he purrs against my neck, teeth grazing my skin, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses.

“God, yes,” I groan.

Bucky grabs himself, his fingers shaking with need as he positions his cock right at my entrance. He could thrust in immediately, take what we both want without hesitation, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pauses; his eyes flick back up to mine, searching, waiting, needing something more.

And I know exactly what he wants.

“Be a good boy and fuck me, Bucky.”

I'm way past hesitation or shame. All I want is him taking over me, claiming me, pressing me into himself. The words shatter something inside him; his mouth parts, his pupils blown wide, and then—without ever breaking eye contact—he slides inside.

A broken moan leaves my lips as my spine arches, my body opening for him, stretching around him, and fuck, he fills me.

Completely. Entirely. Devastatingly.

I’ve been aching for this moment for months. I’ve fantasized about him taking me, and now he’s finally inside me. A deep pressure builds low in my belly, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as he pushes deeper and deeper, until I feel the blunt tip of his cock press against my cervix.

He’s so fucking hard. I can feel him throbbing inside me, feel the pulse of his cock against my walls, and it drives me insane. I wait for him to finally move, but after a few seconds of stillness, I open my eyes.

Bucky is watching me so carefully, his eyes flicking over my face, searching for even the slightest sign of discomfort. His arms shake violently, his knuckles white from gripping the sheets beside my head. He’s breathing fast, erratic, his small, shaky breaths cold against my ear. And he’s moving too slowly, like he’s terrified of losing control.

“Relax, baby. You can let go.”

I lift my hand, gently stroking his beautiful face, my voice barely a whisper. His eyes soften, then immediately darken.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasps, his voice hoarse, ruined.

“You can’t,” I assure him. “I can take it. I want to take it.”

The sound that escapes him—a helpless whimper, like he’s been waiting his entire life to hear those words. His body trembles, his control hanging by a thread, his cock twitching inside me at the sheer relief of it.

He might be above me, but he is completely at my mercy.

“You’re doing so good,” I murmur, just inches from his lips, my breath fanning over his skin. “Don’t stop.”

The second I say it, he melts.

Raw, desperate need unleashes from him so suddenly, it knocks the breath from my lungs. I wheeze in surprise, barely able to keep up before he grabs the bedframe above my head with his vibranium arm and picks up the pace—hard. The deep, wrecked moan that rips from his throat sets me on fire; a wildfire raging low and uncontrollable, consuming every last of my coherent thoughts. All I know is him—the way he moves, the way he fills me, the way every precise thrust hits where I need him most.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, and he collapses into me, his mouth claiming mine in a sloppy, desperate kiss. His thrusts are relentless, shaking the entire goddamn bed, and I have to grip his vibranium arm for dear life just to keep myself in place.

Somewhere in his haze, even now, he thinks to protect me—his flesh hand cradling the top of my head, shielding me from the bedframe. My chest tightens at the gesture, and I let my lips trail down his sweat-slicked neck in silent gratitude, my teeth grazing over his skin.

Something inside me snaps as I feel his salty skin on my tounge. My nails rake down his back, digging into the hard muscle, desperate to leave my mark. My teeth sink into his shoulder, biting, scratching, taking him. We’re sliding against each other, slick with sweat, the heat of the summer night making everything feel even filthier, more raw, more real.

And Bucky is falling apart.

He’s moaning, breaking, unraveling against me, the sounds deep and ragged, each one rougher than the last. If I didn’t know better—if I didn’t know how utterly overwhelmed with pleasure he is—I’d think he was in pure agony from the helpless little cries slipping from his lips.

“Tell me I’m good for you,” he whispers, almost afraid to ask, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

“You’re such a good boy for me, Bucky.” 

The words fall from my lips like a promise, and fuck, the sharp, broken gasp he lets out shreds me to pieces. It’s high and desperate, so fucking needy, and it goes straight to my core.

He kisses me, hard and possessive.

“I’ve been waiting…” His voice is unraveling, barely understandable.

”… for so fucking long.”

Then suddenly—

Thrust.

“And you—”

Thrust.

“Feel—”

Thrust.

“So—”

Thrust.

“Good.”

His voice rasps in pure, guttural pleasure. I’m nothing but a puddle beneath him, completely ruined, and somehow, he’s not finished.

His rhythm snaps, his thrusts turning harder, rougher, deeper, more possessive.

“Mine,” he snarls, his voice low, primal. He slams into me, hard, forcing me to take it.

“Mine, you understand?”

I can’t speak. Can’t think. There’s no rational thought left, no words, just pure, consuming pleasure. So instead, I match his pace, my hips rolling up to meet every devastating thrust. The way his words set me on fire, I let the flames consume me. My orgasm builds dangerously fast, and I’m hanging by a fucking thread, barely holding on under the brutal precision of his movements.

“Bucky—God—”

His name falls from my lips like a prayer, breathless and desperate.

“I’m—”

Judging by his increased pace, he knows exactly what I'm trying to say. He lifts himself, just enough to look me in the eyes, and I’m trying so hard not to let my eyes roll back, not to completely lose myself in him.

“Please.”

His voice shatters, breaking apart in my ear, pleading.

“Please cum on my cock. Please, baby, please—”

This is all I need to spiral. The coil inside me snaps violently, my entire body arching, shattering as a scream tears from my throat. I crash into pleasure, drowning in it, my walls clenching tight around him, milking him, pulling him deeper.

“Oh, fuck—” Bucky’s voice breaks, his hips stuttering, his rhythm completely unraveling as he feels me fall apart around him.

“That’s it—fuck—that’s my girl.”

His praise sends a violent aftershock through me, my body trembling, shaking, completely spent. I gasp for air, trying to regulate myself after the most devastating orgasm of my life, but I don't stand a chance. Bucky's not finished, not yet.

“I—I can’t—”

Bucky’s voice isn’t even human anymore. It’s a shattered, breathless little whimper, choked between desperate gasps, his body trembling like he’s about to break. His hips falter, his cock twitching so agressively inside me I swear I can feel it in my throat.

But he won’t let go. Not yet.

Not without permission.

“Please—”

The word falls apart in his throat, barely even understandable.

“Please, baby, please—please let me cum, I need it, I need you, I can’t hold it, I can’t—”

He’s whining, his breath is gone, his voice is gone, his body is gone; he is completely, utterly mine.

“Release it, baby.” My fingers tighten in his hair, dragging him deeper inside me. “Be a good boy and give it to me.”

And that’s it; he doesn’t just fall apart—he disintegrates.

His hips slam forward, burying himself so fucking deep inside me, holding us together, his muscles locking up, convulsing. And if this wasn't enough, he whimpers.

“Ohhh—fuck, fuck, fuck—”

His cock twitches and throbs uncontrollably, and I feel everything. The first violent, overwhelming pulse. The hot, thick flood of him spilling deep inside me. His hips keep jerking, his muscles keep locking up, his whimpers keep breaking apart into desperate, breathless sobs.

“Baby, baby—please, please, oh my God, I—I can’t—”

His hands claw at my waist, face burrowed into my neck, his breath a gasping mess. His voice cracks, completely breaking apart, and then a single, desperate sob escapes from him.

He cries. Bucky Barnes cries when he cums.

His body shakes uncontrollably, his hips rocking forward on their own, like he’s trying to push it even deeper, like he’s chasing something he’ll never be able to reach.

“Baby, baby—please hold me, please—fuck, I love you, I love you so much—”

His voice is cracking, completely gone, and I gasp as I feel another orgasm building inside me. Another slow, rolling wave, ignited by his moans, his desperate little whimpers, the way he’s still trembling inside me.

“Bucky—oh, fuck—”

The second he realizes what’s happening, it destroys him all over again.

“Baby, you’re gonna— Fuck, fuck, fuck—please, baby, please—”

His hips snap forward as a last burst of desperate energy, his hands gripping my waist so tightly I feel the bruises forming.

“Oh, baby—please, please cum on my cock again, I wanna feel it—please, baby, please, please—”

The filth of it, the raw need in his voice immedately shatters me. I scream his name, my body convulsing around him, my walls tightening, pulsing, taking him deeper, squeezing him so hard he sobs.

“Oh—oh fuck, baby, I’m still cumming—”

His cock throbs again, another weak, helpless little spill, and he whimpers so high and wrecked he sounds like he’s dying.

“I can’t stop—baby, I can’t stop, I can’t stop—”

His breath is gone, tears spilling onto my skin, his voice a trembling, begging mess, pleading for the final release. Not a moment later, he collapses.

His body slumps into mine; arms useless, his breathing erratic and broken. His tears still fall, his entire body shivering, overstimulated, still whimpering, still sobbing.

He’s still inside me, throbbing. Utterly gone from this world.

His hands stay locked firmly around me, fingers clutching, shaking, gripping, like he’ll die if I let go. And on top of that, he just won't stop crying. Soft, helpless little sobs hide into my skin, as he's holding onto me for dear life.

“Baby,” he whispers, his voice so broken and small.

“Baby, please don’t let go—please don’t go.”

My heart shatters to a million pieces in a matter of seconds. It becomes evidently clear that he's not here right now. He’s somewhere else, somewhere dark, somewhere cold, somewhere where he had nothing and no one. I feel it in the way he clings to me and his hands shake as they grip my waist. The way his face tucks into my throat, burrowing, searching, nuzzling like he’s trying to disappear into me; like he’s afraid this isn’t real.

"Shhh, Bucky,” I murmur, kissing his damp temple. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even though I wanted my words to soothe him, he breaks even more instead. His breath catches on a sob, his entire body curling into me, fingers fisting in the sheets, in my hair, in anything he can hold onto. 

“You’re so good to me,” he gasps, his voice shaking. “So perfect, so soft, I—fuck, I don’t deserve this—”

His lips quiver against my skin, hands tightening around me, pulling me closer. The realization that he’s not just crying from overstimulation, hits me like a brick. He’s crying because he’s never felt this before.

Never felt this safe. Never felt this loved. Never felt this cherished, taken care of. 

“Bucky,” I whisper, cupping his tear-streaked face, making him look at me.

His blue eyes are glassy and vulnerable, still wet with tears. God, he looks so much younger like this. Like a little boy, back in the ‘40s, nineteen years old, held too many responsibilities, never got held in return.

I immediately want to fix every bad thing that's ever happened to him.

“You deserve all of this, my sweet boy,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his forehead. “You deserve every single second of love. You deserve to be taken care of.”

He lets out a tiny little sob that slits my heart in half, like a butcher knife.

“But I—” His voice cracks, his fingers digging into my waist. “I don’t—I don’t know how to do this. I don’t—”

His breath hitches, his chest rising, falling too fast. I know him enough to realize he’s panicking, his brain is fighting him, pushing against the comfort, trying to tell him he doesn’t deserve this.

I also know how to shut it down. I pull him into me, wrap my arms so tightly around him that he has no choice but to believe that this is real. I'm real.

“It’s okay, baby,” I say gently, stroking his hair, feeling his body relax against mine. “You don’t have to know how. Just let me love you.”

He immediately eases into me, his breath slowing, his shaking finally dying down. He doesn't know, but he's holding my own broken pieces together too, since I've never felt a love so consuming before. 

“If I fall asleep,” he whispers, as if he is about to say something unthinkable, “will you be here when I wake up?”

My dear God. 

"Of course, Bucky. I'll be right here, always," I promise, my voice firm, not leaving any space for doubts in his broken mind.

He buries his face into my neck as an answer, and with that, Bucky Barnes is fast asleep in my arms.

[confusedmuggle]

Needy Boy

sub!Bucky Barnes x fem!dom!reader

summary: Bucky Barnes hasn’t had time for pleasuring himself for many years, but now he seems to be having a problem

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Bucky?” You called out. Your roommate of two years, you had met him when you first began an avenger. He was rather grumpy, but he wasn’t a bad roommate. you heard a noise from his room, and knocked before entering. The sight before you made you freeze

Bucky was lying on his bed, eyes red and watering. His pants barely on his hips, the outline of his dick showing clearly through his pants, a wet spot at the tip was leaking through his pants

“Bucky? What’s going on?”

his head snapped up, he quickly wiped his face. “Nothing! Get- get out!”

You walked closer to him and sat down next to him

“Bucky, talk to me. Are you sexually frustrated?” you have wondered if something like this would happen. Bucky was super old technically, but he’d never brought any women home, ever. He had to be backed up down there. And honestly, you’d be lying if you said you had never imaged him in a less than holy manner

“I- I-“ he was stuttering like crazy. You could see the tears returning to his eyes

“Bucky, do you need help?”

He froze. “…yes, please. please”

you shuttered at his whine. He was so hot, especially when he begged. You reached over and tugged off his boxers and sweats, being gentle. His red, engorged cock sprung up and hit is stomach. It was already leaking a lot, and the tip was swollen from years of no release. His balls looked so heavy and tight

“Oh Bucky… this looks painful”

he whimpered in response

“please…it hurts… y/n…please”

You gently wrapped your hand around it and began stroking. Bucky help out a choked gasp at the sensation, squirming on the bed

“y/n… it feels so good, ngh.. ah..” he was breathing heavy at this point. He tensed suddenly and came, shooting thick ropes of his cum into your hand. “That was fast” you noticed he was still hard. He teared up again

“more, please, I need more! It’s too much.. I need more, I - I can’t- “

He choked out a sob and you took his into your mouth. “ngh… fuck, y/n, keep going, shit, ah..ah, ngh… fuck”

you were able to milk out two more orgasms out of the poor boy before he collapsed onto the bed, his cock softening finally. “..thank you”

You gently cleaned him up and stroked his hair, watching him as he fell asleep

“y/n.. mmm”

You smiled at his soft whimpers, but then remembered, the two of you are just roommates.

right?

part two out now!

[buckyalpine]

Sub Bucky x reader

In my fucked up phase rn, That’s it, that’s the warning for this. Cause imagine behind closed doors, Bucky turns into a subby, babbling little baby for you, desperate for you to help get rid of that achy feeling between his legs, that special place you never let him play with. 

“Baby boy” you purr, slinking over to the bed, your eyes raking up and down over his very naked body, his leaky cock making a mess all over his tummy. “Are you hard baby”

Bucky whimpered with a nod, squeezing his thighs together to give his balls some relief, gripping his cock tightly in his hand. He wanted to wait for you but he couldn’t, imagining you under the shower, water soaking your body, your delicious body wash covered in soapy bubbles. He tried to ignore the way the image made him leak but before he could stop himself, he’d thrown his clothes off to palm himself. 

“Only naughty boys touch themselves baby, I told you, tell mommy to help you” You brushed your fingers through his soft locks, ignoring his needy pout, walking over to the bedside drawer and pulling out a silver chastity lock. 

“What is it?” Bucky looked at your quizzically with wide puppy eyes, whining at the feeling of the cold metal touching his sensitive cock. He squirmed at the feeling, still trying to be good for you while you tapped his thigh to hold still. 

“It’s to help you bubba” you coo, locking the cage in place, kissing his pouty face.

“Was I bad?” He looked down at his throbbing length, wishing he’d just waited for you instead just like you’d asked. 

“Of course not baby, but I don’t want you hurting yourself, you gotta be gentle when you touch yourself there, right?” 

“But-

“Shh, you’re my good boy, aren’t you?” You leave him high and dry, slinking off to the vanity and grabbing your body lotion, rubbing it between your palms before slathering it onto your skin. 

It makes everything so much worse. 

Imagine you find him whimpering and whining, playing himself through the cage, palming and tugging whatever he could touch. He lets out a frustrated huff, precum making his plush thighs sticky while start to lotion your breasts, smirking as you give them a squeeze making him nearly cry. 

“What’s wrong baby”

“It’s too tight” Bucky whined, the head of his very pink cock and nearly bursting out with how hard he was. “Thingy is too big to fit, hurts mommy” 

“Aww baby c’mhere” You decided to give into his neediness, your own cunt soaked and fluttering with how greedy and desperate he was. You took the key and unlocked the chastity cage, smirking at the whimper he let out, his cock instantly hard, the tip already wet. 

“Mommy-

“Shh, you don’t want others to see how naughty you are baby” You grip the base of his cock, rolling his heavy balls in your hand, leaning over to flick your tongue over his slit making him moan, another spurt of precum dribbling out. “What have I said about your special place” You ask him softly while giving him long, languid strokes, loving the way his eyes roll back, trembling on the sheets. 

“Only-only you can touch me”

“Good boy” You hum, jerking him off until he’s nearly in tears, making him hold it while you straddle him and impale yourself on his cock. He can barely control himself while you slam yourself up and down  on him, struggling to keep his hips from moving, wanting to thrust up into you and cum for minutes on end. 

“Fuck mommy!” He cries out, tears streaking his cheeks, pawing at your breasts as they bounce above his face, “I wanna cum, wanna cum so bad” Only you can make him lose it like this, only you’re allowed to make him feel good, all of his self-restraint slipping as you clench around him. 

“Yeah baby? Wanna cum in mommy? Does your special place feel all tingly now?” you coo, reaching behind to tug his balls and his jaw falls open with he most guttural, primal moan he can muster, your hips riding him faster, “Go on sweet boy, you can cum, let mommy take care of that achy feeling baby, make yourself feel good” 

He wails with pleasure as he starts to thrust up, only getting in two sloppy strokes before emptying himself in you, his cream covering his shaft and balls, dripping down his ass and onto the bed. 

I’m driving myself feral with what would happen you caught him masturbating. He held off as long as he could, but he can’t get rid of the feeling and he needs to take care of it right now. He doesn’t care that you caught him while he was tugging at himself, one hand cupping his balls, pulling and palming them while the other strokes his cock. You shook your head disapprovingly but he can’t stop. 

“But it was so hard mama” He pouts, spreading his legs further to show you, “See?” He bucks his hips up slightly for emphasis, giving you a shameless view of his heavy cock and balls and cute perky ass, “S’too full” 

Just imagine his soft little squeals of pleasure when he lets go of all restrains and rubs himself all over your bed. His face is buried in your pillow, all clothes on the floor, his hips rolling and grinding on the mattress. He can only take so much, eventually shoving the pillow between his legs, humping himself like a puppy in heat till its soaked with cum. He loves how soft it feels on his dick, pressing it harder against him in different positions, his favorite being on his back while he holds it down and rubs himself on it. 

He doesn’t stop until the sheets have to be changed. 

“What did you do baby” You cocked an eyebrow, the scent of sex and his self pleasure making your body feel hot, ready to punish him until hes begging you to stop. 

“I-I-” He struggles to meet your eye, caught with your pillow shoved between his legs, whining when you pull it again to reveal his spent cock, stick cum glistening all over his skin. “I didn’t mean to, my thingy had too much cum mommy” 

“Aww, my baby’s special place was all tingly again?” 

“So tingly, mommy, look” He spreads his legs for you again and it makes your belly clench each time. He was such a needy, horny little fuck, always ready to present himself to you, letting you play with his special place whenever you wanted. You coo at his apologetic pout, reaching over to give his soft cock a squeeze, loving the high pitched whine he lets out, now overly sensitive from his many orgasms. A steady dribble continues to weep from the tip and you lean over to take him in your mouth, making him shudder. 

“Looks like you’re not empty yet baby” you continue to lick and tease him, milking him dry till there’s not a drop left-

I apologize but I did say this was my fucked up phase, so if you made it this far, this is on both of us. 

[fckmebarnes]

Reader puts a cock ring on Bucky for the first time 😛😛 he loves it Mwuahaha

i was thinking about this the other day when i was really deep in sub!bucky and im back here again to say yes…this man does love a good cock ring

especially with how fast and much he fucking cums? you have to punish the man a few times. like leaving him at home tied in shibari rope (safely), with a mini bullet vibrator snug again the underside of his cock that’s collected in the ring

and fuck. you have him on call the whole time you’re doing some errands and all you can hear is ‘please please baby,’ but because you’re in public, you can’t say anything

[thehandsresisthim]

“headcanon: stronger!reader dating bucky”

content: nsft, bucky x reader, very slight d/s dynamics, gn!reader, dom!reader, sub!bucky, takes place post catws, no desc. of readers body (altho there is a mention of reader being very strong/able to overpower bucky, but how that comes about is open to interpretation)

word count: ~500

james ‘bucky’ barnes who has a bit of a crush on you since you’ve been introduced to each other

｡☆ﾟ…who sees you beat other men in hand-to-hand to combat and can’t help but admire you

｡☆ﾟ…who catches himself watching you fight, and wonders if you can beat him too

｡☆ﾟ…who ends up shyly asking you to fight him too, and who can’t help but feel happy when you beat him

｡☆ﾟ…who feels a strange comfort in knowing that you can physically overpower him

｡☆ﾟ…who is now more comfortable in accepting his feelings for you, since he knows now that you’ll be able to handle him should he “get out of control”

｡☆ﾟ…who catches himself imagining being praised by you, and finds the concept quite attractive

｡☆ﾟ…who ends up dreaming about you cooing at him and making him feel all pretty

｡☆ﾟ…who desperately wants you to make him feel like he’s good, and worthy of praise

｡☆ﾟ…who starts to spend more time around you, and who seems to enjoy it when you ask him to do things for you

｡☆ﾟ…who ends up giving you a bouquet of your favourite flowers and shyly asking you out

｡☆ﾟ…who beams with happiness when you say yes

｡☆ﾟ…who feels safe with you in a way that he has not in a long time

｡☆ﾟ…who slowly opens up more and more to you

｡☆ﾟ…who, after some time, has enough courage and trust in himself to sleep next to you

｡☆ﾟ…who hugs you whilst making sure that his left arm doesn’t touch you, because he’s still worried that you see him as some kind of monster

｡☆ﾟ…who whimpers when you start to gently kiss his left shoulder, and then carefully kiss all over the vibranium material of his arm

｡☆ﾟ…who catches himself getting turned on as you praise him

｡☆ﾟ…who quickly covers his mouth as you gently kiss his neck

｡☆ﾟ…who whines when you ask him to stop holding back his noises, but nods and does so regardless

｡☆ﾟ…who openly moans when you kiss his neck again

｡☆ﾟ…who unconsciously starts humping against your thigh

｡☆ﾟ…who twitches when you ask him if he wants you to touch him

｡☆ﾟ…who loses the ability to speak when you ask so caringly, and just nods and moans

｡☆ﾟ…who goes into total pillow prince mode once you gently undo his belt and carefully undress him

｡☆ﾟ…who just goes ‘please, please please, please…’ or ‘t-thank you, thank you’ or ‘i love you…’

｡☆ﾟ…whose words become slurred and interrupted by his moans and whines

｡☆ﾟ…who looks so happy once you push him over the edge - either with your mouth or your hands, he’ll be so grateful either way

｡☆ﾟ…who is insistent on returning the gesture, obsessed with making you feel good too

｡☆ﾟ…who feels absolutely elated when you allow him to, but also understands if you don’t

｡☆ﾟ…who looks up at you, a look of utter devotion in his blue eyes, hoping to satisfy you

｡☆ﾟ…who finally feels at peace when you both fall asleep next to each other

thank you for reading!! i appreciate any kind of interaction with my posts!!

follow this link to see my master list, if i can interest you in more of my fics ❤️

[lilaccmilk]

can’t help but think about

Men who look like they haven’t felt the touch of a woman. (they haven’t) They develop a crush on you. Men who look at you with doe eyes, ready to please. Men who will do anything if you asked. Men who shiver when you whisper in their ear. It can be anything, but the feeling of you getting close— fuck they’re goners. Men who imagine you in ungodly ways, all of this new to them. Men who are on the verge of crying because they are so sexually frustrated.

Men who still can’t believe how someone like them (shy, submissive, a stuttering mess) managed to pull someone as confident and bold as you.

Men who whimper when you finally touch them. Guttural grunts and moans, whines and whimpers— all a part of the melody they let out just for you. Men who look up at you with expectant eyes, wanting–no needing you to praise them. We’ve already established that they love your voice, so throw in a ‘good boy’ or ‘you did so good baby’ and their brain stops functioning.

──────────────────

I don't want it if it ain't your touch - West Side // Ariana Grande

I’m in class rn and all i can think about is this.

Ethan Landry, Sub!Miguel O’Hara, Simon Aumar, Harry Potter, Yuta Okkotsu, Tyler Galpin, Bucky Barnes +your favs!

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Steve, Bucky, Fever Dreams, and Unintentional Seduction

The soft, snuffling sounds of sleep emanating from Steve and his rattling lungs and plugged nose with its deviated septum don't simply stop, cutting out from the ongoing droning of his snores to slightly less loud, waking breathing, heavy and labored with sickness layered over his usual asthma. No, the waters are much muddier than that. Steve's stream of consciousness, running between sleep and wake and dizzying under the flood of his fever, is hard to see through. Muddy, indeed.

The thing that announces to Bucky that his sick-as-a-dog boyfriend has woken from his latest fever-inspired nap is the rough scratch of his baritone perking up Bucky's ears.

Instinctively, reclining in their ratty, creaking armchair, Bucky turns his head to see what's the matter.

Nothing seems to be, though. For all his waking up, talking, slurring, as if he's continuing a sentence that he was already weaving in a discombobulated dream, he's still huddled in a pile of thin, thread-bare blankets on their sidewalk-free-sign-found couch. The layers obscure his boney yet angelic body as it sweats and shivers. He's been fighting his latest illness for a few days now. Bucky thought it was on the downswing, but

"--know that ya don't think 'm lookin' an' I am, 'm watchin', you're arms are, mmmngh, lov'yur arms, arms're good, flex when you, yah-ya, when yur shavin' ur face, handsome m'fckin' face, you don't even know it, ya, jus', standin' there... shaving--"

Hearing him talk like that? Maybe not.

Maybe he's sicker than ever, running his mouth, letting his hotter than fever libido slip out of his mouth, mirroring the slide of beads of sweat down the side of his face.

"--Mmmhmm, shaving, arms, gettin' s'close to th-the mirror, breath hot on th'glass, foggin' it up, leanin', leanin' over, jezuuss, yur ass, Buck. S'dissssstracting. Stickinn out. Ass. Arms. Like yur arms. S'big. So big. Yur so big. Wanna bite 'em. Bite yur arms. 'Specially when yah get home fr'm work, sweatin' an' bulgin' an' I can see all yur veins an' yur tired, voice rough, gettin' short wit me. Hnnngh. F'ck--"

As he drones on, Bucky's own face starts to get hot, first blushing pink and then deepening to a red as if he's spread himself out on the beach to let the sun cook him.

He can't look at Steve.

He feels like he shouldn't look at Steve, like he's a fucking pervert, peeping on Steve's most private, out-of-his-mind dreams despite how he's, literally, seen Steve in every state. He's Steve's fella, his best friend, it's fine if he listens to him talk like that, it's just...

He ain't got no inhibitions like this. His illness has lowered him all the way to the ground, lying on his belly, drooling into the dirt, drawing filthy pictures with a wobbling, unsteady fingertip while flaming hearts circle in his eyes. Drunk on it. And, fucking Christ, does it sound good.

Over on the couch, where Bucky's averted his gaze carefully, looking down at his own lap and the tent not rising in his trousers, Steve tumbles on, lazy and slow, all Brooklyn drawl. His words drip with honey.

"--Gonna eat, eat 'em, gonna, Jesus, Mary, fuh-fuck, you're so haaan'some, Buck. Smell s'good, too. Wanna faint when I smell yur aftershave on yur shirt but, also, also, wanna die--I wanna die, I luv it sooo much when ya don't shave for 'a day an' yur stubble, mmmmngh, ngh, Buck, yur stubble scratches me an' I see heaven, I swear it, like 'm already dead. Like it, rough, hurts, like it on me. Against m' face 'til I'm blushin' red. I like it. Like you. Luv ya--"

Bucky can't.

He fucking can't.

He can't sit still. He can't not look at Steve, going on and on and on and on and on and on on and on and on and on and on and on on and on and on and on and on and on on and on and on and on and on and on on and on and on and on and on and on, his eyes shut, color vivid on his face like a sunset landscape painting--something beautiful like what Steve could make--lashes kissing the tops of his cheeks, sweat darkening his hair as it curls over his forehead.

God.

Bucky just barely sucks in a deep breath, forcing his way through it with his hands clenched into fists over his thighs. He, he doesn't know what to do.

He wants Steve to shut the fuck up. He wants to be quiet as he can, opening the space for Steve to fill, talking until his throat goes hoarse. He wants to touch himself through his pants. He needs to. He wants to jump Steve's fucking bones. He can't jump Steve's bones, he's sick, he's already got too much going on, Bucky can't expect him to get it up, Bucky can't burden him with more physicality. So, it's not fair.

He can't.

He can't touch himself and jerk one out to this. It wouldn't be right to anyhow because Steve doesn't even know what he's doing and Steve can't enjoy it right now.

So.

He's...

Teeth gritted in his mouth, he's gotta just sit here.

Listening.

Sweating.

Tortured.

"--luv, luv yur aftershave an' arms an', nngh, even yur pomade, Buck, shit, just gotta run m'hands through ya hair until it's on m'hands an' I, I, I... Buck. Yur hair hangs in your face an' my heart goes funny in m'chest. Stunner. Buck, yur a stunner. Whistling when ya shave an' comb yur hair and get ready for work an'... don't leave. Don't ever leave. Want you fer me. Mine. Mine t'bite. Bite yer arms. Yuh-yer neck. Can't go to th'docks if youu, if you're indecent."

Steve--phsycially weak, sick as hell, yet ever stubborn, even when he's out of his mind--has the gall to smirk. It's a lazy, sloppy smirk. And yet...

It still fucking works on Bucky.

Involuntarily, Bucky lets out a squeaky little whimper, his hips jerking forward. Oh, Jesus Christ, Steve keeps talking like that and Bucky might cum in his fuckin' pants.

Now, it's all he can do to keep his eyes open, keep his eyes on Steve, 'cause the pictures his little artist is painting in his mind are so much worse--getting pinned by Steve's boney frame up against their bathroom cabinets, back against the sink, head hitting the mirror, nerves all singing a deafening crescendo, uncomfortable and jumbled up in their tiny bathroom but not caring because Steve kisses like he does everything: daring and stubborn and with the force of fucking god behind him. Kissing the life out of him, kissing him until he can't breathe, kissing him with teeth, kissing him until he's marked with bruises that bloom red and blue and purple over his neck and chest and stomach and between his thighs. Bucky couldn't leave the apartment for days with those hickies littering his body, achy and possessive--they'd be as obvious as neon sign glaring in the dead of night, seducing sleazy men into gritty brothels, bars, and clubs alike.

And that's not even to meantion how, else, if he did step foot outside after such a loving tear into, he'd be wandering around in a shivery, raw-edged daze, stumbling, whimpering to himself with every drag of his starched, button-up shirt, cotton-soft undershirt, pressed slacks, or underwear against the teeth marks. He would be irresponsibly high off the knowledge of being owned, pleasure knocking him onto his ass. He'd be treated so good, he'd be too indecent to go in public, he'd be... be...

Owned.

Trembling, Bucky swallows thickly, pushing down a moan as he conversely pumps himself up, he can do it, he can wait a few more days for Steve to recover from getting sick, he can, he will, he has to. He'll get Steve better, taking care of him the best he can, and then he'll beg Steve to take care of him, too. He'll get on his knees. He'll stretch his neck out, arching it, the next time he shaves. He'll bend over the sink completely, presenting himself. He'll flex. He'll groan and beg, sweaty and overworked after an extra-long shift. He'll do anything. Anything. He wants to be owned.

"Mmmngh, Buckyyyy--"

[havensins]

Treating subspace tony, Steve, and Bucky like gentle glass, making them feel good, and doing what they ask you 😭

nonnie u gotta be somewhere in my head bc i’m in love with this concept omg. (tw, handjobs (tony), and aftercare.)

tony, bucky and steve in subspace + aftercare

for tony…. when tony falls into subspace, he falls hard. it comes when he’s been working nonstop for hours on end. when you make him take a break and just pull him into your lap so you can unwind, he’s crumbling already. his eyes go all glossy and he’s clinging onto you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

he’s so sensitive in the state too, and after working nonstop he’d be a little pent up. give him a handjob while he’s in your lap, move slowly and make sure not to tease him because he’ll get all whiny. and once he cums, it’s a necessity that you pamper him and literally never leave him without your touch.

also!! he doesn’t go nonverbal when he’s in subspace but he is a lot more emotionally sensitive than normal. praise him any moment you get!

for bucky…. bucky falls into subspace when he’s truly at his limit. when it seems as though nothing is going how he wants, his nightmares are preventing him from sleeping and all of his missions with sam have been stressful. and you can tell that all of it is piling on him but you know he needs to seek you out on his own terms.

and that’s exactly what he does. he comes home one day, absolutely exhausted and only wanting you. and he just drops to his knees right where you’re sitting at your kitchen island. his hands are behind his back and he’s looking up at you with teary eyes.

when he gets like this, he doesn’t really desire to get into anything sexual. he just wants you to pepper him in affection and praise him. better yet if he could kneel for you for a couple of hours and just get out of his head for a while.

for steve... steve mostly falls into subspace after a scene. after you’ve reduced him to a wailing mess, and he’s trying to get his breathing under control, he simply looks towards you and holds his arms out weakly.

stevie would need so much skin to skin contact. if you let go of him for even a second he’d probably be in tears. he just wants the physical reminder that you’re there. his subspace care & aftercare would go hand in hand. you’d have to clean him up the best you could since he’d have to be in a clearer headspace to let you go long enough to shower with you.

he wants you to wrap your arms around him and just hold him while the both of you watch a movie. he likes being massaged too. and steve being steve would listen to your praise and praise you too.. though of course in this state he loses his filter. “you fill me up so nice,” etc. though you never mind it.

[hunterofartemis257]

Bucky

TW: Language, sexual themes

I’m so obsessed with himmmmm 😍

Imagine this man on his knees, looking up at you, bouncing on a dildo on the ground in front of your feet and playing with his chest because he wants to put on a show for you

[juicyfruit22-library]

Who we are by late_to_party_81

Okay, maybe getting it on in the bathroom during the summer office party at Steve’s work wasn’t the best idea, but in Bucky’s defence, watching Steve, who already looked like the hottest thing on the planet in his blue linen suit, talk corporate and command the room had sent his libido sky-rocketing. He’d been so handsy when Steve had stepped down from the podium, already starting to float around the edges of subspace, that Steve had had no option but to hustle him away before he did something that even out-raged an exhibitionist like Tony Stark.

[confusedmuggle]

Please

Bucky Barnes x fem!dom!reader

Summary: Bucky and you are just roommates right? So why can’t you get the image of him pleading to cum out of your head?

Part 1 - Needy Boy

a/n : a part 2 to Needy boy, can be read on its own though. Thank you so much for all the love on the first part! here is the second part, please comment any ideas for this fic or others, and or other things you want me write! Thank you, enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

just roommates. just roommates. at least that’s what you keep telling yourself. After Bucky fell asleep that night, you went back to your room to go to bed. It was a restless night, but you finally fell asleep, and by the time you woke up, Bucky had left already. He’d left a note saying he got called in early

but it wasn’t just that time. The next two days you didn’t see Bucky, not even once. You tried to think of why he would be avoiding you. He had certainly seemed to enjoy himself that night.

You huffed as you plopped on your bed. The past two days had been busy for sure, but you missed the broody hot man that you usually had the pleasure of seeing at least once a day. Your mind drifted as you laid there, going back to that night

“y/n…ngh..”

your thighs clamped together as you remembered the sounds he had made. “Fuck it. Bucky hasn’t been home for awhile anyways…”

you slipped your hands down your body. One went to cup your breast and the other down to circle the wet spot on your panties.

“mph…”

it had been so long since you’d had the pleasure to touch yourself, either too busy or too tired to be able to. you slipped your panties down your thighs and completely off, tossing them away to who knows where. You began to circle your clit and bit your lip, stifling a loud moan

“ngh..”

your breathing became heavier. you opened your eyes and -

fuck. “Bucky? “

you snatched the blanket and threw it over your body quickly

“what the hell are you doing here?!”

Bucky stood in the doorway of your room, unmoving. his gaze going from your exposed self to your face once you put the blanket on. He moved his gaze to the floor and gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing

“I-well-“

you felt the blush rushing to your cheeks. How much had he really seen? “what are you doing here?”

“well I was-“ he cleared his throat, clearly nervous. You noticed his hands moving to cover his crotch, and how he was trying to make it look like he was just clasping his hands

“I was going to ask what you wanted for dinner but- “

you could tell he was nervous. he was switching his weight from one foot to the other and couldn’t seem to look you in the eye

“Bucky, do you need something?” You felt awkward with his just standing there, and the heartbeat between your legs was getting harder to ignore. His presence certainly didn’t help that. Your thighs squeezed together again

“I want you. I want to taste you. Please” as he said these foods he met your eyes. He looked desperate, like a starved man. She hands over his crotch seemed to pressed against his length as he said this, like he was also getting turned on from this conversation

You froze. Was he serious? The heat between your legs only grew. You stared into his eyes, feeling your breathing get heavier as you nodded. you carefully removed the blanket from yourself, letting him see your fully naked body.

“fuck” he uttered, followed by a involuntary moan. He stumbled over to you, already pussy drunk without even getting any. he gripped your thighs like they were the only thing keeping his grounded and look pleadingly into your eyes

“I’ve never- I don’t know how-“

you cut him off

“it’s ok, i can teach you Bucky”

You gently ran a hand through his hair, making him let out a little moan and close his eyes. *she gripped his hair now, firm enough to pull slightly but not cause pain. You gently guided him towards the center of your arousel ”go on. you’ll figure it out, ok? I’ll tell you what feels good and what doesn’t. Just be gentle, and no need to rush”

“it’s so…wet” he said, an air of awe in his voice

your back arched off the bed as he began, licking a stripe up your slit. He let out a guttural groan

“you taste so good…Jesus Christ y/n”

you carefully pushed his head closer to your heat, moaning as his nose brushed up against it. Bucky, it seemed, has lost all control of himself. He was like a starved man eating his first meal in years. “oh y/n… this is so good… you’re so beautiful… ngh…”

You’d noticed by now that he was rutting himself against your mattress as he ate you out… what a needy boy. “good boy, yes… just like that” your breathing quickened as you chased your release

Bucky let out a guttural groan and his hips stuttered

you smirked. Did he really just cum from eating you out?

“don’t stop now Bucky, come on, be good”

It wasn’t long before you came on his tongue. He didn’t stop, wanting to continue tasting you, until you pushed his head away

“that’s enough for now, Bucky. Come here”

You patted the bed beside you. Bucky stood up, his pants completely leaked through from his pre and orgasm.

“Bucky, have you been avoiding me?”

sorry for the cliffhanger, but I’ll be working on part 3! ❤️❤️

[buckyalpine]

Subby Bucky aftercare

I once wrote about reader feeling shy, soft and subby after rough sex but imagine Bucky. Bucky who is so in love with you and dazed after the many orgasms you pulled from his body, Bucky who is so shy and soft afterwards, it almost makes you panic with how quiet he’s being, a deep flush on his cheeks.  He doesn’t say much, softly nudging and nuzzling into you for more cuddles but you worry he’s hurt and unable to communicate. 

“Bucky?” You try to coax him to look at you but he tucks his face into your neck, wanting to lie on top of you while you hold him. “Baby, can you look at me?” 

You stroke his scruffy cheek, pulling his face away gently, his glassy eyes so puppy like, blinking curiously, wondering why you’re worried. 

“Does anything hurt? You can tell me baby, I just want to make sure you’re okay, will you let me check you over?” He gives you a little nod while you check over his warm body, pulse still racing under his skin. He lets out a little giggle when you brush your fingers down his back, feeling extra sensitive to anything touching him. 

“Are you feeling soft and shy, sweet boy?” You coo, smiling when he nods against your skin, sighing contently when you kiss his forehead. “Can I clean you up, bubba? I’ll be quick” 

He’s in no mood for you to get up to clean him but reluctantly lets you go, being a good buy while you wipe down all the stickiness you made together with the lightest of touches. You find it amusing that when Bucky is in a dom mood, he doesn’t have an ounce of self-consciousness or shyness; Dom Bucky would walk around naked, proudly with his cock out (it’s that pretty) but sub Bucky is a  different story. He blushes when the damp cloth slips between his thighs and his tummy clenches when you move around his now soft cock. He almost wants to hide, the tip still dribbling, the curls at the base of his length wet and creamy,  eyes growing wide when you press soft kisses in places he wouldn’t let anyone else see. He’s back in your arms as soon as you’re done, using you as a human pillow. 

“You’re my baby boy, aren’t you” You giggle at the way he curls up on you, just like a baby. He’s so deep in his subby space, he takes your nipple into his mouth, suckling gently as if he’s nursing, he’s eyes closing while you massage his scalp. “Such a baby boy”   

[lilaccmilk]

i just read your "men who look like they havent felt the touch of a woman"

imagine those same men coming from mere grinding

all clothes still on

and the whimpering would go crazyyyyyy

Right so *blushes while trying to act nonchalant* (let’s be honest, not a single nonchalant bone in my body.)

──────────────────

It was a day off for you both, you were straddling his lap, his lips on yours. Kissing you with such a fervour, it was as if he’d die if he didn’t feel your lips on his. Your hand raked through his hair.

You clothed cunt just above his bulge, grinding down on him. You can hear his breathy moans and whimpers, the sounds only spurring you on to grind harder. You left kisses and hickeys on his neck, kissing his jaw, lightly biting his Adam’s apple.

Baby, please need to- fuck- need to be -hah- inside you. C’mon love, please?

“Now now, be a good boy for me, yeah? You can do that right?” You say against his lips, in that sickly sweet voice of yours. His hands reaching up to hold your hips, to grind you down harder. His breathing heavier, his head falling back. And soon enough, you feel a wet patch against your inner things and cunt, you look down to see his pants, drenched.

A look of surprise flashes through your eyes, before you giggle, “Aww, did you come from this alone?” His face flushes red as he hides his face in your chest. But you aren’t finished, instead you pull at his hair, urging him to look at you, “You can give me one more, yeah?” All he can do is nod breathlessly.

──────────────────

The moment when I close my eyes All I see is red lights- Red Lights // Bang Chan, Hyunjin

Ethan Landry, Sub!Miguel O’Hara, Simon Aumar, Harry Potter, Yuta Okkotsu, Choso Kamo, Tyler Galpin, Bucky Barnes +your favs!