#bucky x librarian reader

[navybrat817]

Anyway, lovelies, you know who wouldn't put up with this censorship bullshit? Librarian!Bucky.

“Bucky, it’s okay.”

“No, it fucking isn’t. It undermines your freedom of expression. It’s a tool for control, and we both know it.” He stops you before you can cut in, fire in his eyes behind his glasses. “By censoring you and others like you it’s an excuse for them to find more and more stuff they can deem as harmful or inappropriate because of their biased narratives. They’re also making it more and more difficult for users who have already stated that they’re fine with the content by making them jump through hoops just to get a glimpse of your stuff. So, no, it’s so fucking far from okay.” 

You smile before you can stop yourself because it’s hot as hell seeing him work himself up on your behalf, and you let him wrap you up in a tight hug.

“I won’t let them censor my girl,” he whispers. 

You know he won’t.

Come to think of it, Steve Rogers wouldn’t appreciate this either.

[thezombieprostitute]

What's Mine

Summary: Bucky pushes you too far and decides to explain how your situation works. Or doesn't.

Word Count: ~2.3 k

Warnings: Dark Fic, Implied dub/non con, Power imbalance. Please let me know if I missed any.

Previous Part; Next Part

It's been a few months since Bucky "claimed" you. He followed up on his promises of taking care of you. You frequently woke up to some surprise gift or another. One day it was a fully stocked kitchen. Another day it was the leak in the bathroom sink getting fixed. More than a few times it's been jewelry with his initials on it.

And all it cost was letting him use you. You swear a piece of your soul dies every time he makes you cum. Every time he coats you in his semen. Every time you match his fervor. It might not be so bad if he didn't gloat every time. That damn smirk haunted your dreams. Or was it nightmares? What was the difference anymore?

It had definitely affected your standing in the community. People were scared to interact with you. Fewer parents brought their kids to the library when you were there. Ruth and her friends had no problems calling you all sorts of degrading things under their breath. You definitely caught them giving you the evil eye more than a few times.

Part of you suspected that if you'd quit trying to fight him he'd lose interest. He liked when you were in a fiery mood. If you could just give in, give up, he'd likely stop using you. But you couldn't help yourself. You hated him. You hated yourself for enjoying the pleasure he gave. That hate needed an outlet.

You pull into your driveway, no longer surprised to see Bucky's bike there as well. You sigh, wondering if you can talk him into to leaving. You're exhausted. Walking into the house you don't even have a chance to take your jacket off before Bucky is on you.

"Bucky, please no. I'm just too tired."

He chuckles, "don't worry. I'm just really happy to see you. We're going out tonight."

You sigh, "I'd rather stay in."

"Then that means you have the energy for me all night."

"Ugh, fine. Where are we going?"

"I've got you an appointment at the tattoo parlor."

"WHAT?! I hate tattoos! I can't get any!"

He smiles as he growls at you, "you're going to get a tattoo just for me. No one else is going to be able to see it, but we'll know it's there."

"Isn't the jewelry enough of your 'ownership'? You even got me a brooch for my cardigans with your initials!"

Bucky licks his lips, "it was just the beginning, Doll. So far everything I've done to mark you are things that can wash away or heal up. This is the next step."

"I refuse," you declare, crossing your arms.

"Fuck, Doll, you're getting me riled up." He puts his arms on each side of your head, boxing you in against the wall. "And you're getting that damn tattoo. We can either go now, while you're still cleaned up, or after I've fucked your brains out and you're a cum covered mess."

"Fine," you drop your head. "Let's go to the tattoo parlor."

"Not yet." He grabs you chin and makes your look at him. "You need to thank me, first, Doll."

Bile rises at the back of your throat. "Thank you for letting me preserve my dignity."

He laughs. "Give me another," he taunts, using the same voice as when he's telling you to give him another orgasm. You hate yourself for the involuntarily clench your pussy does.

"Thank you, Bucky, for...for introducing me to Bunny. It is nice to have a friend." A friend who understands how fucked you both are, you think.

That gets a more sincere smile on his face. "It is important to me that you know my best friend and his girl. I'm glad you're good to them. Bunny is gonna need you when she's pregnant."

"What are friends for," you dryly reply.

"That's my good girl, Doll."

The tattoo is pretty much what you expected. His initials, right over your heart. If you wore anything low cut, it would be obvious. You were sure that was the point: can't even show a hint of skin without reminding everyone who it actually belongs to. At least it wouldn't be a problem at work, given you always dress conservatively.

By the time you're home Bucky is practically salivating at the memory of the tattoo on your chest. He might be eager to see this permanent mark of his claim on you but at least he's willing to follow instructions for proper care so it doesn't scar or make you sick. You made sure to thank him for that, knowing he likes to hear it, and he reiterates, "I take care of what's mine."

"Any chance I can just get some sleep tonight? I wasn't lying when I said I was tired."

"I'm all worked up, Doll."

"I thought you take care of what's yours," you snap back. "How is keeping me awake, not letting get good sleep, taking care of me?"

He grips your chin and gives you a thoughtful look. "I suppose you're right," he admits. "Even a vibrator's batteries gotta recharge every so often, right?" You roll your eyes and he grins. "But I'm going to hold you all night and when you wake up, it's on. I know you don't work tomorrow."

"Is that why you helped with my budget? So I'd have more free time to be your personal toy?" You can't fight the fire in your voice. You're tired, yes. Tired of being so angry all the time.

"Aww, you admit you're mine," he teases.

Unable to hold back any longer you smack his face. "I have never been so angry or tired as I have been since you showed up. You want to take care of me? You want me to be yours? Treat me like a fucking person!" Tears are pouring out of your eyes, the stress and frustration of the months finally finding a kind of release.

Bucky glowers at you and grabs your throat with his metal arm. "You shouldn't have done that, Doll."

"I don't care anymore," you croak.

That seems to catch him off guard as his hand loosens and his face softens.

"Oh, Doll," he shakes his head. "You really should've said something sooner." You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears start falling. He removes his hand from your throat and brings you in for a hug, causing you to cry even more. He pats your hair and coos, "there, there," until you can't cry any more.

"Let's get you to bed," he says quietly.

"I...I don't...I don't understand."

He gently lifts your chin, "you know, before Bunny ran, I tried to warn Steve he was being too controlling. That she was going to bolt. He didn't listen and, sure enough, she escaped. Wouldn't surprise me if she continued to try because he hasn't learned to loosen his grip. I don't plan on repeating his mistakes. Yes, you're mine and you'll never be rid of me. But that doesn't mean I can't be benevolent."

You sniffle as your brain tries to comprehend the sudden change in his demeanor.

"Now lets make sure that tattoo is properly cared for," he says with a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I...I hit you," you stammer.

"You're over-stressed and tired," he shrugs. "If I thought you were doing it just because you wanted to hurt me, yes, there would be repercussions. But I've apparently been overworking my poor Doll, so I'll forgive that one smack." His tone at that last part implies any more attempts to lash out at him will be punished.

"Thank you, Bucky," you murmur as you hang your head.

"Mmmm. That's more like it. Now let's get you to bed and tomorrow we'll work on your communication skills."

You wake up feeling like you're hungover without having had any alcohol. The delicious smells of breakfast lure you out of the bed, even though you dread meeting the cook.

Bucky's shirtless and smiling as he works. If you were in anything close to a healthy relationship you'd smile at how happy he is. Instead you keep your head down, trying not to think about that metal hand wrapped around your neck. About how those muscles feel pressed against your back, or on top of you.

He sees you and gestures for you to sit at the table. He brings you a plate of breakfast, a mug of coffee and kisses the top of your head before sitting across from you. You don't eat right away like he does, lost in your confusion about this change in behavior.

"Eat, Doll," he orders. "I didn't stock your kitchen and cook this up just for you to let it go cold."

"What is going on?" your voice is barely above a whisper.

"I'm taking care of my girl," he answers, nonchalantly. You look at him like you've never seen him before and he sighs. "Eat, or I will force it down your throat."

You grab a slice of the toast and start chewing. "Thank you, Bucky," you grumble and he nods in his approval.

"One of the differences between me and Cap is that I know I'm a monster," he tells you between bites. "He likes to think we've done all of this to keep his girl safe and give her the life she always wanted. I know better. But we've been best friends since we were kids. Ride or die, you know? So I'm always going to have his back. I've just made peace with the fact that it means ruining lives."

"You never tried to talk him out of it? Out of taking over an entire town?"

He shakes his head. "Steve's the kind of guy who can never be talked or distracted from his goal. One of the things I find endearing about him."

"So, he gets you all to take over everything here and you, what? Enjoy the spoils?" Feeling the bile rise at the back of your throat, you go for another slice of toast to try to settle your stomach while keeping Bucky happy.

"It's a balance," he grins. "We take over and just start doing whatever the hell we want, a lot of people are going to die trying to get rid of us. So we set up some rules for our men. People will remain upset, of course, but they're less likely to 'rise up' so long as we have a level of restraint. It's, honestly, the biggest part of my job as Cap's second."

You think on this for a minute, mindlessly eating. "I get why the town, but why me?"

He shrugs, "I needed the stress relief. It ain't easy keeping a crew in line and I was initially just hoping for a quiet spot to read to calm down. Then I started watching you. Saw you expertly handle all kinds of difficulties. When you snapped at me, I figured, like me, you could use some stress relief."

"Stress relief?!" He gives you a look that has you clamming up.

"And fuck you were so good," he muses. "That first photo is still the background on my phone." Heat rushes to your face. "I decided to go ahead and keep you as mine. You're not only a good fuck, but you were quick to befriend Bunny. Everyone else who sees her with Cap has decided to avoid her. Something I know you've been experiencing, even though you haven't told me." You look down, unable to say anything. "I honestly thought you liked the rough treatment and was happy to give it, but I'm guessing we hit a limit for you."

"You branded me," you snarl.

"No, I got you a tattoo. Branding is something else and would've hurt you a lot more." His tone is stern and you return your attention to your food. "You've played a critical role in helping me keep things under control. Plus, since you're my girl, you get some privileges and protections. You think Steve would've beaten up Walker for some random librarian? No. But for his best friend's girl? That's another story."

"So, you're just going to keep using me?"

"Yes," he nods. "And now that I know more about your limits, I'm less likely to get stabbed in my sleep."

You look at him, aghast, "that's why you never stayed the night before?"

Bucky chuckles, "so smart. I love it. And now that you have more information, hopefully you're smart enough to put the rest of the pieces together."

"If I hurt you, Steve drops everything to find and kill me. Probably painfully." He nods. "If I make you angry, you're likely to take it out on someone who doesn't deserve it or you lose control of your men for long enough that they hurt someone who doesn't deserve it." He nods again, smiling at you. "And if I stop playing along like everything is okay, it's another sign to the townsfolk that might set them over the edge and have them shooting, getting hurt, or worse."

Bucky finishes his breakfast, nodding at your conclusions. "God, I love that you're so smart. Makes a lot of this so much easier." You start sniffling and he reaches across the table to gently grip your chin. "I get that this is a lot to take in, Doll. But I know you'll make the right decision. If you really didn't care about this town, you'd have left when you only had a skeleton budget. You're willing to work yourself to the bone to take care of these people, you're willing to be mine to keep them safe."

"I can't say 'no'," you whimper.

"But it doesn't have to be all bad. Remember, I take care of what's mine."

Previous Part; Next Part

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[buckrecs]

𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 : 𝙅𝙪𝙣𝙚

masterlist | monthly fic rec masterlist

FLUFF

Exhausted by @moonvis

Uncle Bucky by @/moonvis

Trying To Study by @pitubea1910

Secure Your Back by @writingcroissant

poppies and babies’ breath by @lizzie-is-here

More than friends by @theeleggymeggy

Lovesick by @/theeleggymeggy

Protecting What’s His by @jobean12-blog (bodyguard!bucky)

Pieces of Us by @majestyeverlasting

As Many As You Want by @/majestyeverlasting

How I Met Your Father by @pomelo-villano

Nerd by @imgoingtofreakoutnow

Trouble Doubled by @certifiedskywalker

magnetic mishaps by @aneluvs

Angel Eyes by @killatravtramp

hint dropped by @rocketrhap3000

pre-mission blues by @buckysblanket (husband!bucky)

Nightmares by @waiting4inspiration

Safe and Sound by @talesofesther

voicemails by @lovelybarnes

Chicken Soup for the Soul by @sebbytrash

Baking (fails) with bucky by @winter-soldier-vibes

booked on a feeling by @intrepidacious (librarian!bucky)

Theater by @loving-barnes

Sleepyhead by @tom-holland-parker

A Good Man by @/tom-holland-parker

A New Uniform by @hopelessromantic423

Manicure by @itsapeterthing

Speechless by @/itsapeterthing

I’ll Stop The World And Melt With You by @shamevillain

Flustered 2 by @/lovelybarnes

Aroma by @navybrat817

The Animal Within by @/navybrat817

ending unplanned by @starryevermore (bookstore au)

only angel by @cherryrogers (40s!bucky)

IDGAF by @amandaoftherosemire

Sleepy by @sunflowers-and-bucky

Happy Beans by @/rookthorne (barista!bucky)

Imagine by @buckyalpine

Shy Boy by @hiddles-and-skittles

A Good Man by @beyondspaceandstars

Meet The Parents by @/navybrat817

before sunset, i fell by @atlaese (modern au)

Lemonade and shields by @/atlaese

Old Fashioned by @rookthorne

ANGST

Tip of the Tongue by @bucky-fricking-barnes

Who Did This To You? by @espinosaurusrexex

“Accidentally” by @/pomelo-villano

Just Tell Her by @girl-next-door-writes

New Love by @ro-is-struggling

jealousy, jealousy by @malum-forev

Jealous by @sweetbbarnes

A New Life? by @/waiting4inspiration (phoenix!reader)

We mend each other by @/talesofesther

Green by @/itsapeterthing

Smoke by @shurisneakers

The Ultimatum by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

feel me by @flordeamatista (siren!reader)

youngblood by @sebbies (boxer!bucky)

Safe Place To Land by @sunlightdances (modern au)

Too Much (Not Enough) by @touchstarvedirl

SMUT

Be it revenge or moving on by @writingsoftheloser

Cherry by @sweetdreamsbuck (camboy!bucky)

Your Daddy Did It Better by @princessbellecerise (billionaire!bucky)

Wrapped In Red by @/flordeamatista

[lazyneonrabbitt]

I'm a believer

Quick fluffy drabble that popped in my head on my way to work then the aong came up.

First post in The Soldier and the Librarian universe | Bucky x reader.

The second you stepped inside your apartment a familiar tune reached your ears. You were about to hum along when- 'wait, the voice is wrong..'

So it wasn't Maxie watching Shrek for the millionth time. No, this was different.

You put your bag and coat away, pocketing your phone as you made your way through your home in search of the music source whixh you quickly learned was your small bluetooth kitchen speaker.

The scene before you was one you would have never believed to be true if you didn't see it happen right there between the fridge and the oven.

Over the speaker played actual music, no kids' TV as background noise as Maxie watched her shows or whatever channel you had on last just to make the place less quiet. No. Bucky had put on music and was ever so silently singing along.

I thought love was more or less a given thing

The more I gave the less I got, oh yeah~

Bucky was drying dishes, his hips swaying to the beat as he sang along like he was alone in the world. How did he even know the lyrics so well? He hadn't missed a word since you heard him first.

What's the use in trying?

All you get is pain.

When he turned around to put a mug away he stopped dead in his tracks and for a beat you felt bad for intruding, but then he flashed you the sweetest smile. All in the span of one sentence, put the mug down and sauntered over to you.

And then I saw her face

Now I'm a believer

Bucky's voice sounded surprisingly good in song as his hands found your hips and swayed you along with him.

And not a trace

Of doubt in my mind

One of his hands made its way up to rest against your cheek, Bucky's eyes staring right into yours with a sparkle you had only seen a handful of times since getting together with him.

I'm in love~

With swift moves he took your hand in his and pulled you into a twirl, grabbing you by the hip and spinning you once more to cage you against his back with his arm around you.

You danced until the song ended, both you and Bucky singing along to it now. You had your head resting against his shoulder when the song ended and silence fell over the kitchen. Then, only your soft laughter, muffled by the fabric of Bucky's hoodie sounded in the air.

"How do you even know that song, hun?" You couldn't help the lauhh escaping you, you were just too giddy with Bucky being so outgoing.

"I uh.. Maxie made me watch a movie with her, said I was missing out on a masterpiece-" "Oh god, she made you watch Shrek. She usually watches it when you're not home.." You sighed at his daughter's antics, your smile never faltering with the knowlegde of them being more and more a normal functioning dad-and-daughter duo.

"Don't worry, I liked it. The songs are all so catchy, too. I really should have given modern music a chance earlier instead of being a mopey old man." He air-quoted the last bit with an eye roll, both of you knowing full well that's what Maxie had called him with full confidence.

"As for the song.." Bucky's eyes looked everywhere but at you as he tried to find his words. "I guess it just resonated with me. It's how I felt for a while, failing at relationships after the hell that was Maxie's mom and I, and then the two of us met at the library and you treated me so ..normal. Made me believe I could still be loved, and I was right."

You could feel the love and adoration radiate off him, and suddenly he wasn't the quiet ex-veteran you met at work anymore. He resembled that young, bright soldier alongside Steve Rogers from the museum displays.

"I think that's the most mushy thing I've ever heard you say, Bucky." Your head hung against his shoulder, your back against his chest as he leaned against the counter. "Thanks for letting me into your life, and Maxie's, too."

You mentally thanked Maxie's friend's mom for letting her sleep over so you and Bucky had some real alone time. You were really looking forward to showing him how much you loved him.

[angrythingstarlight]

Who doesn't want chubby Bucky? 🤤🥰🥵❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Bucky when he overhears you talking about him

[smuttyfantasyrecs]

Bucky Barnes pt.2

*original Bucky Barnes post can be found here*

🦋 sinners and saints 🦋

@nastybuckybarnes

🦋 play pretend 🦋

@kinanabinks

🦋 call of the wild 🦋

@syven-siren

🦋 it's the shirt 🦋

@buckyownsmylife

🦋 what's it like 🦋

@duuhrayliegh

🦋 bikini 🦋 cane corso 🦋 ask nicely 🦋 girlfriend 🦋 code word 🦋 chicken 🦋 pornstar!bucky 🦋 fbro 🦋 main masterlist 🦋

@bucksfucks

🦋 what are friends for 🦋

@bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

🦋 face sitting 🦋

@psychedelic-ink

🦋 take it 🦋

@buckmepapi

🦋 my number is 0 🦋

@jaaneymann

🦋 gentle 🦋

@vibraniumcollar

🦋 teasing 🦋

@sluttystucky

🦋 pushing your luck 🦋

@lilacletter

🦋 the arm 🦋

@stargirlfics

🦋 accidental pictures 🦋

@alisonsfics

🦋 five 🦋

@killatravtramp

🦋 two doors down 🦋

@queerpumpkinnn

🦋 marry me? nah. marry me? yeah. 🦋

@antiquarianfics

🦋 drunkenly in love 🦋 look don't touch 🦋

@kurogxrix

🦋 a fragile mind or a fragile heart 🦋

@lvrdrafts

🦋 masterlist 🦋

@winterarmyy

🦋 oral 🦋

@itiswormtimebaby

[bigtreefest]

Oh, Poppy. This was golden. I absolutely loved every second of reading it. It was hilarious and hit me deep, despite its lightheartedness. Reader’s initial contrast of behavior vs attire and the way it totally threw Bucky off was just *chef’s kiss*

And in the end, I guess poor Steeb gets to learn something new 🤷🏻‍♀️😂

no shelf control

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 1.3k

a/n: this is very not serious but i think it's p cute hehe. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & welcomed ♡

part 2 ❀

The only reason Bucky is even in the public library is because Steve asked him to pick up a book he reserved. They'd only hold it for so long, and he got caught up at work, so he'd asked Bucky to grab it for him.

He figures he’ll browse while he’s here. Perhaps something will catch his interest.

And, well… Something definitely catches his interest. But it's not a book.

He wandered the stacks for about fifteen minutes before giving up and deciding to go ahead and collect Steve’s book. But then he saw you standing behind the circulation desk, scanning returned books back into the system and setting them on a waiting cart to be put in their respective spaces.

There's a cute pair of tortoise shell frames perched on your button nose, a furrow between your eyebrows as you concentrate on separating the books on the cart. Your cheeks are adorably round and your lips pouty. Your hair is pulled back by a butterfly clip and you're drowning in a large, pastel sweater.

You're the exact opposite of who he is, at least in appearance, exactly his type–all soft curves and sweetness etched into your being. There's no way in hell he’s going to leave this place without asking you out.

Bucky squares his shoulders, gives himself a quick mental pep talk, and marches over to you. He puts on his most charming smile as he rings the little bell on the counter.

You glance at him over the top of your glasses, looking almost bored. “May I help you?”

He clears his throat. Okay, so he’ll have to try a little harder. That's fine.

“My friend asked me to pick up a book that's being held for him,” he explains, placing both hands on the desk as he leans in a little more.

“What's the name?” you ask.

“His or mine?” Bucky replies, winking.

You tilt your head slightly. “Is the book being held for you?”

His smile falters. “Uh. No?”

“Then I’ll need his name.”

He squints. “Steve Rogers,” he finally replies after a beat.

You type the name into the computer and click around for a moment, then you turn around and bend over to rifle through stuff under the counter. It gives Bucky a fantastic view of your ass, and it can't be an accident.

“Ah, here you are,” you say, returning to your full height with a book in your hand. You scan it and slide it over to Bucky with a customer service smile. “All done. Tell your friend he has two weeks until it's due for return.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, biting the inside of his cheek when you immediately go back to work, ignoring his presence.

He can't just give up now, though. His pride is on the line. Quickly, he looks around for an excuse to continue talking to you.

“So, like, there's a lot of books here,” he blurts.

His ears grow hot when you pause, looking at him again with a single eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” you say carefully. “It's a library.”

Bucky forces a laugh. “Right, yeah! I just mean, uh, you might have one I’ve been trying to find for ages,” he lies.

You nod slowly. “That is very likely, yes.”

“What do you like to read?” he questions, suddenly, trying to save himself from further embarrassment.

You open and close your mouth, thrown. “What?”

“Could you recommend something for me?” he asks. He nods toward the cart. “Anything in there worthwhile?”

You look at the cart, then back to him. You're clearly struggling to follow, which he has to admit to himself is understandable, because he's also struggling. He's never had to work this hard and it's messing him up.

“There's a book on the history of Romania?” you suggest like a question.

“That sounds cool. I'll take it,” he grins.

“Really?” you reply, incredulous, before shaking your head with an embarrassed twist to your mouth. “I mean–sorry. I'll get that for you.”

But Bucky panics as you turn and grab it, because, “I don't have a library card,” he rushes to say. He's struck with inspiration, though, and quickly follows up with, “But can you still check me out?”

He tries to conceal his smirk, feeling supremely proud of himself for that pickup line. However, his celebration is short-lived.

You blink at him, frowning. “No, I'm afraid not. You need a library card to check out books, sir.”

His smile drops entirely. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

You frown harder. “Doing… what? My job?”

“No, pretending like I'm not hitting on you,” he huffs.

Your glasses slip down as your eyes widen, jaw slackening in surprise. “What?” you squeak.

It's so cute, but Bucky can't take it anymore.

“Look, I've been trying to ask you out for the last five minutes, but I can't tell if you're blowing me off or not.”

“I… I didn't know,” you confess, averting your gaze, pushing your glasses back up your nose. “I'm not used to someone flirting with me.”

Now it's Bucky's turn to be incredulous. “Seriously?” At your tentative nod, he scoffs. “What the hell is wrong with people? You're so cute, and sexy. How could anyone not wanna ask you out?”

You bring a hand up to your own cheek bashfully, and Bucky’s about to combust. If he was a betting man he'd wager your skin is warm to the touch.

“How about this,” he begins, leaning on the counter once again, even closer than before. He loves the way your doe eyes blink up at him. “Why don't I start over and make it abundantly clear what my intentions are.”

“O-Okay,” you reply.

He grins, and this time he gets a reaction out of you. You bite your lip as you fidget with the too-long sleeves of your sweater.

“Hi, I'm Bucky. I think you're insanely attractive and I'd love to take you on a date.”

A soft giggle from you and he knows it deep down to his very core–he's a goner.

“Hi,” you reply, shyly tucking some loose strands of your hair behind your ear as you offer your name. “A date sounds fun.”

He lifts his hand and gently nudges under your chin, catching you by surprise. “Wonderful. Here,” he says, reaching into his pocket for his phone and handing it over, “put your number in.”

Still adorably flustered, but with an ever present smile that makes your round cheeks bunch up in the sweetest way, you take his phone and input your number. After you give it back, Bucky sends you a text right away.

“Now you have my number, too,” he announces happily. “I expect to hear from you soon, yeah? Let me know when you're free.”

You nod. “Yeah, of course.”

“Bye, darlin’,” he says with a wink, grabbing Steve’s book as he begins walking backwards.

You cover your cheeks with your hands again. “Bye,” you mutter quietly.

Oh yeah. This is perfect. Bucky doesn't turn around, eyes still locked with yours, until he bumps into one of the kiosks. You muffle your giggles into your sleeve as Bucky flushes. His grin doesn't waver, though.

He waves and feels like he floats out of the building, and still feels like he's floating when he makes his way to Steve’s apartment later that evening. When Steve answers the door, Bucky plants a messy, loud kiss on his cheek, ignoring his disgusted and outraged exclamation, saying an emphatic, “Thank you,” before he hands the book over.

Steve stares in bewilderment as his best friend hums the whole way to the elevator. He hasn't got the slightest clue what put that dorky smile on Bucky’s face, but he's sure he’ll find out soon enough. He looks down at the book in his hand as he closes his door and stops in his tracks.

“This isn't my book,” he states dumbly.

The History of Romania sits innocently in his grasp. He sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s gonna kill Bucky.

[navybrat817]

Hey

What would Tattoo artist Bucky and Librarian Bucky do to comfort reader when she can't sleep?

Ooh. Our librarian is happy to trade soft, lazy kisses with you as he holds you in his arms. Gentle touches and sighs, he's going to drink every single one of them in. If that doesn't help, he's is going to read to you while you cuddle close. His voice is soothing to lull you into a place of warmth and comfort. You wonder why you weren't able to sleep in the first place.

And he'll be right there when you wake up.

Our tattoo artist is going to stay up with you until you fall back asleep. Doesn't matter if he's tired or not. If you aren't sleeping, neither is he. So he lays on his side and faces you, smiling as the two of you speak in hushed tones in the darkness. And that's something he loves about you. The two of you never run out of stuff to talk about.

He also wouldn't mind providing you with an orgasm or two if that gets you to rest. Only if you want one. But he's always happy to provide.

*****

Love and thanks! ❤️

[thezombieprostitute]

Your small town has been invaded by a biker club. They want a peaceful takeover but they can twist your arm if needed.

Holy shnikes, I spent so much time working on this! I almost had to make it a two part story! I've barely been able to work on anything else because I needed to get this story written up instead. I honestly think I've never written anything like this before.

Word Count: ~3.6k

Warnings: Choking, Dub/non consent, Implied violence, Knife play (mild). Please let me know if I missed any!

Next Part

Sheriff Lee Bodecker and Mayor John Walker caved to the bikers pretty quickly. Part of you could understand why; only a handful of officers in the entire county compared to a full biker gang? They'd never stand a chance. Better to be allowed to live without having to worry about ending up in the hospital. The Mayor didn't care so long as he got to keep his job, which now meant making the bikers happy.

Which meant paying the bikers with money from the city budget. Your library's budget in particular.

When you'd tried to argue about it, Mayor Walker hit back with "well we can't take any more from the school! Besides, no one needs the library anymore. They've all got their home computers and Internet. You'll be fine with the new budget."

In the end you'd had to let go all but one very part-time employee, relying on two or three volunteers instead. You were already working long hours but now they felt endless. With the budget cut, you had to reduce the purchases of new books in favor of maintaining the Internet connection several of older patrons relied on. Almost half of your day was spent working on applying for grants for additional funding for after-school programs and free-lunch programs for during the summer breaks.

Looking over everything, you were certain you'd have to dip into your own meager savings if you were going to meet the needs of your community. Mayor Walker really didn't seem to understand what the people of his city actually needed, but he didn't seem to care so long as he was in charge.

During an after-school reading time with the Kindergartners you're surprised by the entrance of one of the bikers. You think he's the second-in-command, but you're not sure. He's definitely not the blond in charge; "Cap" you think they call their leader. Still, you have kids to take care of, and this newcomer is a grown man. He can take care of himself.

When the story is done it's time for a nap for the kids. This is very likely the longest they've ever been away from home, away from family, and the sleep helps keep them from getting overstimulated. It was another thing Mayor Walker just didn't understand. All of these kids had parents that worked full time and couldn't afford a babysitter. There were no daycare options, either. Decades ago the kids could be left with a grandparent or a cousin, but they're all working as well or moved out of town. That left the library as a haven for the kids who didn't have access to the limited after-school activities as an option.

If there's anything good about working in such a tiny library it's that you can keep an eye on the kids and the biker while going about your other duties. Thankfully you'd gotten some WD-40 for the book carts so they wouldn't squeak and wake anyone up while you re-shelve books.

You also get a better look at the biker. He's sitting in one of the chairs reading The Hobbit. You hate to admit it but he does look handsome. Longish dark hair, steely blue eyes. For some reason he's still wearing his gloves. If only his arrival hadn't heralded such troubles for you. Well, at least he wasn't causing trouble.

Shelving the books gets you a bit of stretching and some impromptu squat exercises. You spend so much of your time at a desk that this is the closest thing you get to a workout. Given how your body continually snaps, crackles and pops, you could probably use more.

Your exercise is cut short by Ruth's entry and you have to fight the urge to let out a groan. Ruth is one of the older ladies in town who refused to get a computer for her home. Unfortunately that means each time she visits, you have to walk her through even the most basic elements of using a computer so she can send an email to her granddaughter. The entire time she complains to you about how much she hates computers and how much she wishes her daughter would've raised her own daughter correctly and been happy to just accept a phone call, and on, and on, and on.

"Hello Ruth," you quietly say, customer service smile on. "Let me go ahead and log you in to one of our computers?"

"I'm not an invalid!" she loudly complains. You try to quiet her, pointing to the sleeping children but she isn't having it. "All you youngsters thinking an old lady can't do anything for herself! How dare you imply I can't log on to a computer? I'll do it my own self."

You take a breath to steady yourself before looking over at the little ones. They seem largely undisturbed but, knowing Ruth, they'll be awake sooner rather than later. Sighing you go ahead and get their after nap snacks ready. Just another hour or so until their parents start coming by to pick them up. It doesn't take long before Ruth is yelling at the computer, complaining to you that "it's clearly broken" and "why can't we just write letters" along with her forever complaint of "wouldn't have to do this if she'd just pick up the damn phone!"

The kids start waking up and you quickly have to balance keeping them from being upset by the angry lady while also knowing any attempts to placate the angry lady will be met with more anger. Thankfully the snacks are a good distraction for most.

"Would you like some help on a different computer, Ruth?" you ask through gritted teeth, knowing the answer.

"Oh stop treating me like one of those brats," she snaps back. "What kind of library is this where computers are more important than books? Shouldn't even have these monstrosities here!"

"Excuse me, Ruth, is it? I'm Bucky." You'd been so distracted going between Ruth and the kids you didn't notice the biker had put down his book and walked over.

"Oh don't get me started on you and yours!" Ruth retorts. "Town was so much better before you hooligans came along! Now I can't even call the police to help me out when then those teenagers are loitering in my yard!"

"Well Ruth, let me give you my number so the next time you can call me instead of the police," he offers. You're surprised at how calm he's sounding despite being yelled at.

Ruth huffs, "you no-good-beatniks! How dare you insult me! You should get out of our town and leave us good folk alone!"

The biker, Bucky, smiles, "seems to me 'good folk' don't go harassing people who are just trying to do their job." You have to bite back a laugh at that comment. It's no good riling her up even more.

Ruth storms out, letting you focus on the kids who are looking unsure if they should be upset or not. You give the biker a quick "thank you" before giving the little ones all of your attention. He nods and goes back to his reading.

Soon enough the parents start coming in and picking up their kids. Several of them stick around long enough to check out a book or movie and you have to balance taking care of the remaining children with getting the families out on their way. It's always such an ado that makes you really wish you could hire some extra help. A few parents complain about the snacks you gave their kids and you remind them, yet again, that they are free to donate snacks they consider appropriate. All the while you keep your customer service smile up, despite how much you're internally screaming and crying.

Things finally calm down and you're able to sit and take a breather. You desperately want to quit but this community needs a library, even if the Mayor doesn't think so. And goodness knows they'd never be able to hire anyone else to work these conditions. You look over to where the biker is sitting, still reading. If his gang hadn't shown up, you'd be in a much better position. Maybe even able to take a vacation.

Checking the time you decide to keep your professionalism and head over to the man. "Sir, excuse me?" He looks up at you, bright blue eyes momentarily startled. "Sir, we're going to be closing in about a half hour."

"Oh, yeah, sure thing," he nods as he closes the book. "Also, please call me Bucky."

"Sure thing, Bucky," you nod, too tired to argue.

"Gotta say, you do a lot of work for a librarian."

"What do you mean by that?" You don't hold back the bite in your tone and cross your arms.

He chuckles, "I didn't mean to offend. Just, I thought librarians were just supposed to check out the books, y'know? Maybe answer questions? Didn't expect you to also be a daycare, IT person and all that."

"And that's just the work that you saw," you snap at him.

"Don't you have anyone helping you out?"

"I did, before your gang came along!" You're unable to hold back any longer. "Because of you the Mayor cut my budget! I had to fire pretty much all my staff! I can't get the half the books the people of this community want! I have to beg the state government for funds to make sure kids have food when they don't school meals! Do you know how much cleaning I have to do because there's no room in the budget for professionals?! Do you have any idea how many of the things around here I have to pay for out of my own pocket?! You bikers demanded protection money and it came out of my budget!"

Bucky's gloved hand grabs neck, stopping you from talking. You try to fight but his arm is stronger than expected. Surprisingly he doesn't look angry so much as amused. "You know, I never thought I could go for the librarian type but this fire of yours does something to me." Your nostrils flare and he chuckles. "I've been yelled at twice today, Doll. A man can only take so much."

"I'm sorry," you grumble as best you can.

His hand loosens, "what was that, Doll?"

"I'm sorry," you repeat. "While you are the reason my budget was cut, you're not the one who made the decision. I'm sorry I took my anger and frustration out on you."

"That's more like it," he snickers. He pulls you uncomfortably close to himself. "And I'm more than happy to reward that better behavior." You look at him, confusion written all over your face, as the leather of his glove caresses your cheek. "Like I said, I never thought a librarian would rouse my interest, but you're something else." You roll your eyes and try to pull away, but he isn't having it. His grip tightens around your throat again, even as his smile widens, baring his teeth. "I can be very good to you, Doll, so long as you're good for me."

His implication is clear and you really don't have any options.

"I need to close the library," you grumble.

Bucky removes his hand from around your throat, "good idea. Don't want to get caught now, do we?"

Your body is shaking as you go about the routine for closing the library. Your brain is working overtime to try to figure out some kind of way out of this. Running isn't an option. Even if you made it to your car, where could you go? Calling for help definitely wouldn't do anything. You seriously doubt he would hesitate to make an example of you if you ran.

With the last of the doors locked and the blinds closed you return the biker and almost whimper, "my office?"

"Oh Doll," he cups your chin. "You don't need to be scared of me. I'll be good to you."

"Do...do you...do you have a condom?"

He chuckles, "don't worry, we're not going that far tonight. But I love that you're ready for it."

Without warning he grabs you and pulls you in for a suffocating, forceful kiss. His tongue quickly pushing its way past your lips. Mentally reminding yourself to do what he wants, you open your mouth to give him access and he moans. One of his hands moves down to your breast and you have to will yourself to not flinch away from the touch.

"Take off the cardigan. And the top," he orders.

You back up just a bit so you can oblige. "The bra as well?"

"Nah, that'll be for me to remove." His voice sounds rougher than before and his eyes are definitely darker. He seems amused by the fact that you maintain eye contact while removing your clothes. "You're so pretty when you're defiant," he teases. "But I'm sure I'll have you pleading for more in no time."

Willing your eyes not to roll you instead snipe back, "don't make promises you can't keep. Wouldn't be the first disappointment I've had."

He has the nerve to laugh at that. "I'll make a believer out of you, Doll."

Walking to your office, he sits in your chair, gesturing for you to get on his lap. "Make me think you want this," he commands.

Taking a deep breath, eyes never leaving his, you move to straddle him. He's surprised when you grab the back of his head and turn his face up before shoving your tongue down his throat. He moans in appreciation and his arms wrap around you as he returns your fervor. You bite his lower lip and start grinding against his crotch.

He removes his right glove before undoing your bra faster than you expected. You pull apart from him just long enough to remove the bra and he takes the opportunity to latch himself to your breast. His ungloved hand moves to fondle your other breast while his surprisingly strong left arm holds you up. His ministrations have you gasping as your body instinctively continues to grind against him. His slow, languid movements are in direct contrast to the speed your hips have set and the difference is affecting you.

Suddenly you're on your back on the desk. Bucky had managed to move his left hand to prevent your head from banging on the desk. Your eyes widened from more than just surprise at the realization of how fast and strong he was.

"Sorry, Doll, you were getting me too worked up already," he smirks at you. He moves his hands so they're on each side of your head, hovering over you. "It really is the quiet ones, huh?" You can't help roll your eyes and he chuckles. "Let's see how loud you can get."

He quickly unbuttons your pants and pulls them off of you before getting out a knife. Your breath hitches and he chuckles as he takes the blade to your panties, cutting them off of you. He puts the panties to his nose, "you smell so good. How long's it been, Doll? Months? Can't imagine you get a lotta action in this town."

"It's been a while," you confess, heat burning your cheeks at how turned on you are. You can't bring yourself to look at him.

He stuffs your panties into his pocket and taps your thighs with the knife so you spread them open. "You look so pretty like this," he snickers, clearly amused by your discomfort.

He slams the knife into the desk by your head, making you yelp in surprise. Using his left arm to hover over you, he whispers into your ear, "such a pretty scream," as his fingers start playing with your pussy. He groans at how wet you are, "fuck, Doll, I should'a known you'd be into the rough play."

You squeal as he mercilessly jams two of his fingers into you, all the way to the knuckle. As you involuntarily arch your back he alternates licking, sucking and nibbling your nipples. He adds a third finger and mercilessly drives his hand in and out of your soaked pussy. He pushes himself up and uses his now free arm to start choking you. You try to push his arm away, but it's impossibly strong. You're shocked to feel your orgasm building as your gasping for air.

He must sense it too because he grins and starts ordering you to "give me what I want, Doll. Cum around my fingers. I can feel how close you are." He gives your nipple a sharp bite that pushes you over the edge and cum with a hoarse scream, his fingers never slowing down, his grip never letting up.

It's only after you've stopped cumming that he eases up. "That was fucking gorgeous," he taunts before pulling his fingers out of you and licking them. He closes his eyes and moans at your flavor, making you burn with embarrassment. You start to get up but his left hand keeps you pressed to the desk. "I'm not done, Doll."

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I shouldn't have assumed."

"God you're a good, smart girl. Keep those legs spread for me." You do as he says while trying to look anywhere but him. He pulls the knife out of your desk and flips it so that the hilt is pointed towards you. "Look at me, Doll. I want you to watch." You struggle to look and he rubs the hilt of the knife against your oversensitive clit, making you jump. "I said, look. At. Me. Doll." You're quick to follow his orders this time.

He puts the knife away before undoing his belt and pants. As much as you could feel when you were grinding against him, as much as you could see the his bulge, you weren't expecting his cock to be so big. Your eyes widen and he chuckles, "like I said, we're not going that far tonight. Now be good and don't move unless I tell you."

Grabbing your legs he pulls you so your ass is a little off the desk and runs his cock over your pussy, gathering up your slick and rubbing over your clit, making you whimper. He starts groaning in pleasure, "god you're so wet from just one orgasm. Can't wait to see how soaked you get after a full night with me." He positions your thighs so that you're squeezing his cock between them and he gives a few thrusts, spreading your own juices all your thighs.

"Gonna mark you up with my cum," he growls as he picks up his pace, squeezing your thighs even tighter. His hands are hurting you but his cock keeps rubbing against your clit and it's feeling so damn good you don't register his words. You moan and whine as you barrel towards your next orgasm. "That's it, Doll. You make the prettiest faces. Can't wait to see you covered in my cum. Gonna look so damn pretty with my seed all over you."

He squeezes your thighs impossibly tight and you cum so hard from the pain and pleasure combination you don't notice him ejaculating all over your stomach and chest.

When he finally catches his breath he reaches into his jacket and pulls out his phone to take a photo. You try to protest but he gives you a warning look. You drop your face, trying to not cry from how dirty you feel. He puts the phone away and lifts your chin, "don't worry, Doll. That photo is just for me." He kisses the top of your head and you try not to wince. "And because you were so good to me, made me feel so good, I'll be good to you. Now get your clothes back on and I'll escort you home."

"Can I clean up?"

"Not until you get home," he growls. "You don't get rid of my marks until I give you permission."

"Yes, Bucky," you sniffle.

"Aw, don't be like that, Doll," he gently chides. "I take care of what's mine."

The next morning you wake up from a nightmare riddled sleep, feeling more tired than ever. After your morning routine you step outside to head to the library but stop short when you see Bucky on his motorcycle, waiting for you. Wordlessly he hands you a helmet and you don't even try to question or talk him out of whatever he has planned, you just put the helmet on and get on the bike behind him, holding him incredibly tight so you don't fall off.

He stops in front of City Hall and helps you off the bike before walking you in. He doesn't stop until he's led you to the Mayor's office. Your shocked to see Cap, the leader of the biker gang, sitting next to Mayor Walker, whose nose has recently been broken. You gasp and try to turn away but Bucky grabs you and keeps you facing the Mayor.

Cap pats Walker's shoulder, "now what did I tell you?"

Walker shudders a little before looking at you and shakily saying, "I'm so sorry for cutting your budget so much. I will amend that today, making sure to take the money out of my own salary."

Your shaking, unable to respond. Bucky whispers into your ear, "what do you say, Doll?"

"Th-thank you, Mayor Walker," you stutter. "I...I really appreciate that you've ch-changed your mind."

"That's my girl," Bucky whispers before guiding you out of the office.

Next Part

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[buckrecs]

𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 : 𝙅𝙪𝙡𝙮 ~ 𝙎𝙚𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧

masterlist | monthly fic rec masterlist

FLUFF

Puppy Eyes by @coffee-with-bucky

look at me by @aquariusbarnes

The Pull of Gravity by @navybrat817 (shifter au)

The Rejects by @/navybrat817

A Little Less Restless by @majestyeverlasting

The Sleepover by @littleredwolf

An Ol’ Fashioned Notion of Wartime and Whisky by @rookthorne

Honeyed Words of a She by @/rookthorne (mob!reader)

A Stroke of Luck by @/rookthorne (lumberjack!bucky)

Serenity by @/rookthorne (Mafia!reader)

A Clover’s Intuition by @/rookthorne (lumberjack!bucky)

Ducks on Plaster by @lovelybarnes

the great shirt debate by @rocketrhap3000

Barbie by @buckyalpine

Imagine | 2 by @noctumbra (chubby!bucky)

Don’t Tell Bucky by @lives-in-midgard

closer by @eviesaurusrex

bucky getting used to modern crap by @bucky-bucket-barnes

Around My Neck by @mcu1shots

These Hands Are Meant To Hold by @vanderlustwords

Timeless by @antiquarianfics

You Have A Girlfriend? by @/antiquarianfics

Something to Smile About by @jobean12-blog

Found Waldo by @lovelybarnes

Unchained Melody by @delusionalvenusian

valentine by @softlyspector

The Way We Were by @avintagekiss24

Midnight Escapades by @kiritella

Stunt Double by @/kiritella

Sleep and Cuddles by @/kiritella

Flowers And Things by @espinosaurusrexex

Little Mermaid by @buckyarchives

cuppa coffee by @irndad

A touch of color by @starrysebastians

Smooth Criminal by @redgillan (officer!bucky)

ANGST

Verbal Fight by @espinosaurusrexex

Tommy’s Party by @bucknastysbabe (college au)

Rescue You by @writing-for-marvel

not my one by @stxrvel (steve x reader)

Imagine by @/buckyalpine

One Night by @/buckyalpine

ours by @trashywormeateroffics

give me a minute by @amayatheowl

Seasons Change & I Carry You With Me by @/vanderlustwords

The Truth Is; I’m A Liar by @imtryingmyfuckingbest

Better Than Us by @/antiquarianfics

The Rain Will Always Gonna Come if You’re Standing With Me by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Love Me… by @/kiritella

You could never hurt me by @theeleggymeggy

SMUT

braid my hair, honey by @witchywithwhiskey

finally by @adrinktostopyourthirst (spy!reader)

cherry blossom by @noctumbra (librarian!bucky)

virgin mob bucky by @/buckyalpine

Take the edge off by @bitsandbobsandstuff

Hayloft by @wienerbarnes (40s au)

[jen-with-a-pen]

ugh if only I could've done this when I moved last years irl 😮‍💨😮‍💨 like DAMN 🥵🥵

You're such a wicked menace, Eva!

Title: Insatiable Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 1845

Summary: Your new boyfriend comes along when you pick up the keys for your new apartment and conduct the move-in inspection.

Content Warnings: explicit smut (oral - female receiving, vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, hint at overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, cream pie)

Logistical Notes: Fulfilling my February box for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky Bingo event (forehead kiss, fingering). Follows our Desperate couple but can be read as a stand alone piece.

Additional Notes: Honestly I didn't have any plans to return to our rivals-to-lovers couple from Desperate and Uncertain and Sure again so soon, but this gif hit a certain inspiration and may pull from some literal "reader insert" vibes as I'm moving into a new apartment right now... Also thoroughly inspired by this post coming across my dash today thanks to @ghotifishreads.

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

You couldn’t help the permanent smile on your face.

Yes, moving was going to be a hassle, and you didn’t have a clue how everything was going to fit into this tiny one-bedroom apartment, but being back in the place again, keys officially in your hands, the place really yours, standing in front of the bright living room windows that made your heart sing when you first saw the place, that feeling that this was your place warmed your whole chest again.

It was hard to break away from the light streaming in through the windows, but you turned your head to look at Bucky. “So? What do you think of the place?”

He was new to your life, too.

The kidnapping and rescue in Paris had been only a month ago. Over that month, you and Bucky had been figuring out what the revelation of your feelings for each other meant outside of a life and death situation. Parts of that were easy, other parts were trickier, but nothing that made you want to abandon ship.

“I think it’ll suit you well,” he answered. His smile was soft. You loved seeing this side of him, especially after so many years of angst and rivalry between you.

“You’re practically glowing with excitement,” he added.

Your smile grew to a grin, and you shrugged one shoulder. “It’s smaller than the place I’ve been, but I couldn’t resist all this sunlight.”

You turned around and looked at the empty living room that bled into the kitchen area. “I want to try and measure things and figure out where everything will go before the movers bring the furniture in tomorrow. I’m still worried about whether all my shelves will fit or not.”

You set your bag down on the kitchen counter and began to pull out a measuring tape, the blue painters tape you planned on using to map out the furniture shapes on the floor and rummaged for the hastily scribbled together list you’d made of your furniture dimensions.

Bucky had remained silent – he was often so silent you could forget he was present when you got immersed into something – and you spun back around to see him still in the same position across the room by the windows, studying you.

“What?”

“You know what we have to do before anything else,” he said seriously.

“What’s that?”

He licked his lips.

Oh.

Your stomach flipped.

“Bucky, we can’t–”

He chuckled. “You have the keys, it’s officially your place,” he said, stalking toward you. “We absolutely can.”

Before you could utter another word, he reached for your elbow and tugged you into his arms, planting a sound kiss right on your mouth, swallowing all protest. He coaxed your lips open, and his tongue licked into your mouth, drawing an eager moan from you.

Damn, he was too good at this, you thought as your hands came up to clutch at his back.

He pressed your bodies together, and you were not surprised to feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. One thing you had learned about Bucky over the last month was that he could be ready to have you on the turn of a dime, and he could be insatiable. That your body responded so quickly to him as well was both blessing and curse. Less than a minute and you were melting completely against him, eager for more, and you could feel the slickness already growing at your slit.

Your hands dropped down his back, but only to reach the hem of his sweater before dipping under so your fingers could eagerly climb up against his naked skin. He grinned into the kiss.

With his sweater quickly halfway up his torso, Bucky broke off the kiss momentarily to pull it up and off the rest of the way. Then he coaxed you down to the floor, spreading his sweater down on the hardwood floor and laying you gently on top of it. His body covered yours, and he began kissing you in earnest again, his vibranium arm planted next to your head while his other hand began deftly working at the buttons on the front of your blouse.

It was only another moment or two before he’d pushed your shirt open to bare your torso to him, and Bucky wasted no time in trailing his hot lips down your throat to blaze down your chest, paving a heated path between your breasts, over the band of your bra, and down your stomach. He gave your belly button a playful lick that had you gasping and a giggle bubbling up your throat.

“Bucky!”

He chuckled, and reached down to pull your shoes off as he pressed more kisses over your stomach. Then, with both shoes discarded, he knelt above you to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before pulling them down and off your legs. As your legs came back down on either side of him, his hands skimmed slowly along your inner thighs, and when they reached your core, he pressed one thumb at the base of your clothed slit and brushed it up over the damp cloth of your panties, the other thumb following just after and teasing you again there. You canted your hips up, wordlessly asking for more.

Bucky smirked, but he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and quickly pulled them off, tossing them to the side as well.

“Please,” you begged.

“Happily,” he whispered, then lowered himself down to wedge his shoulders between your thighs, pressing them wide to accommodate his broad frame. He licked a stripe up your dripping slit, moaning at the taste of you.

Your stomach swam with butterflies and your cheeks heated slightly. You had never been with anyone so unabashedly open with their desire for you as Bucky. He held nothing back when expressing his pleasure, his desire. It was a heady thing to be on the receiving end of, and you it still had you between feeling slightly flustered and drowning further in the depths of how intoxicating it was to know the effect you had on him.

He applied a second, slower lick over your folds, and then he began to kiss your lower lips the way he did your mouth, and your entire body coiled up for him, back arching, hands grabbing for his short hair, legs contracting.

“Bucky, god, yes,” the words tumbled out as you quickly began to lose more and more of your coherence.

But he was slow and torturous in his ministrations. You squirmed for more, but he held your pelvis down with one firm hand, while the other gently caressed your hip. Your fingers found his vibranium ones, and he entwined them with yours and started to fuck your cunt with his tongue.

When he heard a little whine escape from you, he began to suck your clit diligently. The orgasm that he’d been building you toward escaped from you briefly, but the switch picked right up on building that tension again, and he flicked his tongue a few times across your swollen nub as he sucked, and then you cried out as you finally tumbled over the edge of ecstasy.

He pressed a kiss to your cunt, then shifted up, quickly maneuvering his hands beneath your back to unclasp your bra and pull off your last piece of clothing. It was the only moment of reprieve he gave you, because then his mouth dipped to suck at one of your tits, and one of his hands worked into your folds, slowly stroking in and out of your tight channel. Two fingers curled into your pussy, and he quickly found one of his favorite places – that spongy spot on the front of your walls, knowing he found exactly the spot he needed as you gave a debauched moan. He slipped in a third finger, and as he sucked the hardened nub of your nipple and lapped at it, he worked to rip your second orgasm from your soul more quickly. It was clear nothing was going to deter him from his plans to ruin you in the empty apartment, and you could only be glad you were up on a floor high enough you didn’t risk any neighbors seeing in your open blinds to see the way he was taking you apart right there on the floor.

The second orgasm burst through your body unexpectedly, and it stole the breath from your lungs.

It had ripped through you so powerfully that you didn’t register the clinking sound of his belt buckle coming undone and hitting the floor as he unzipped and pushed down his jeans and boxer briefs.

But you noticed he wasn’t finished with you as he slipped one hand under your thigh and angled your hips to slot the head of his cock between your puffy folds.

You whimpered, fighting to open your eyes and plead your case as you looked into in the depths of his heated blues. Whether you were pleading for him to stop or for more, you really didn’t know or care at this point.

He hitched your leg up around his hip and slowly slid his fat cock fully into your cunt. “So damn good.”

You moaned openly, completely debauched on pleasure at this point, but clearly your pussy wouldn’t refuse him plying you with even more of it.

Deep, slow strokes.

You felt every aching inch of him as he thrust slowly in and out of your tight channel. He still made you stretch around him, and it was exquisite for both of you.

Full, so full.

In and out.

So deep inside of you now, and you could do nothing but make incoherent noises beneath him, gasping for air. “I know, sugar, I know," he murmured into the crook of your neck. "Gonna give us what we both need.”

And he fucking does, as he does every time, using your body as if he’s had you for years. He rewarded you both with an orgasm that truly leaves you boneless and breathless once he finally pushed you over the edge and then sped up his thrusts to chase his own release as your vagina squeezed around his throbbing cock. He groaned as he spilled hot ropes of cum inside of you, thrusting until he’d emptied himself in you completely. Finally, he collapsed on top of you, and pressed kisses into the crook of your neck, then along your jaw, allowing you to try and catch your breath before finally kissing your lips again.

You whined against his lips, and he rolled over, taking you with him, and letting you lay half on his chest, half against his side. He continued to kiss you lazily.

You didn’t know how long he continued to make out with you, but the sun’s rays had shifted significantly once he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you rested your head on his bare shoulder.

“It’s a good floor,” he said, almost mundanely.

You laughed softly.

“We’ll need to check the counters a little later,” he added.  

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

[vunblr]

The Recipe for Us

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Summary: Bucky sets out to surprise his girlfriend with a simple yet meaningful gesture, but quickly learns that some things are easier said than done.

Word Count: about 9k.

notes: Second Christmas story for the Roots and Branches AU

The hot water streamed over Bucky’s shoulders, washing away the day’s grime and easing the tightness in his muscles. Sawdust and sweat swirled down the drain in pale rivulets, a tangible reminder of the hours spent at Sam’s workshop. He reached for the long-handled loofah hanging on the wall, pausing for a moment as a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Seven months ago, he’d never have imagined himself using something like this. Hell, he hadn’t even known such a thing existed. But she’d gifted it to him after he’d grumbled too many times about sawdust getting into places it had no business being. “Just try it,” she’d insisted, eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and determination. “It’ll make your life easier, I promise.”

At first, he’d been reluctant, because why did he need a fancy shower tool? But now, as he scrubbed his back with the bristled brush, he had to admit that he couldn’t shower without the damn thing. It worked like a charm, reaching spots his stiff shoulders couldn’t. Another one of her small but thoughtful gestures that made his life just a little better, a little easier.

That thought lingered on his mind as he rinsed off. Christmas was coming up fast, and he hadn’t figured out what to get her yet. She was always cooking for him, spoiling him with meals that somehow tasted even better because she’d made them. Maybe it was his turn to return the favor.

His brow furrowed as he stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and scrubbing it over his damp hair. Cookies, he thought, wrapping the towel around his waist. How hard could that be?

The bell above the library door gave a soft jingle as Bucky stepped inside, shaking off the chill of the late morning air. The faint scent of old books and polished wood greeted him, a familiar comfort. He adjusted his jacket, glancing around until he spotted Martha at the front desk.

The elderly librarian looked up from her paperwork and her face broke into a warm smile. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite mystery man,” she said, setting her pen aside. “You’re just in time, I was about to set aside a copy of All the Colors of the Dark for you. Brand-new, hot off the presses.”

Bucky cleared his throat, brushing his fingers on the edge of the counter. “Not today,” he muttered. “I, uh, need something else.”

Martha tilted her head, rising her eyebrows in surprise. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Cooking books.”

There was a beat of silence before her expression shifted, and amusement crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Cooking books? My, my, that’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming.”

Bucky scratched the back of his neck, suddenly regretting his decision. “Yeah, well… I just need something simple.”

Martha leaned forward slightly, with curiosity sparking in her gaze. “Simple, huh? Expanding your repertoire, are you?”

“Not exactly.” He tugged at his jacket zipper, fixing his eyes on a spot just past her shoulder. “It’s for… someone. A gift.”

Martha chuckled, with a warm and knowing smile. “A gift, huh? Have you already decided what you’re making, or are you here to brainstorm?”

Bucky hesitated, his ears-tinged pink. “Cookies,” he admitted finally.

Her face lit up, and she clasped her hands together. “You’re an absolute sweetheart, you know that? She’s lucky to have someone as thoughtful as you.”

He fumbled again with his jacket, slipping the zipper through his fingers as he looked anywhere but at her. “Thanks,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

“Don’t worry,” she said kindly, moving to the shelves. “I’ve got just the thing for you. A beginner’s guide, easy recipes, step-by-step instructions. You’ll do great.”

As she handed him the book, Bucky accepted it with a quiet nod, clutching it like it was a secret dossier. “Appreciate it,” he said gruffly before turning toward the door, his heart thudding a little too fast as he stepped out into the crisp afternoon.

Sitting in his truck, he flipped through the pages of the brightly colored cookbook, furrowing his brow as he skimmed the recipes. The instructions seemed straightforward enough, at least none of them required anything he couldn’t pronounce. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, he realized he had just enough time to swing by the general store before heading back to the workshop.

The bell above the store’s door jingled as he stepped inside, the warm air carrying the faint scent of cinnamon and pine. He grabbed a basket and made his way through the aisles, collecting the essentials: flour, baking soda, vanilla essence, and a few other things he didn’t recognize but trusted the book’s guidance on.

As he reached the seasonal display near the front, he paused in front of a rack of Christmas-themed cookie cutters. There were stars, trees, and even a set of reindeer shapes. He frowned, holding up two options and debating which would look more impressive.

He was still deliberating when the familiar sound of the doorbell chiming caught his attention. His stomach flipped as he saw her walking in, coat and hair dusted with snowflakes.

Panic shot through his brain. Without a second thought, he shoved both sets of cookie cutters to the bottom of his basket, quickly covering them with the flour and sugar. He angled himself away from the entrance, his heart pounding as if he’d been caught committing a crime.

He took a breath and glanced at his basket. The cutters were well-hidden, but now he was hyper-aware of the faint clinking of metal every time he moved. Muttering to himself, he steeled his nerves and started toward the checkout, keeping his head low and his focus on not drawing her attention.

And that might have worked if Bucky’s frame didn’t stand out so much. The low shelves did little to hide him, and before he could edge toward the checkout, her gaze landed squarely on him.

Her face lit up with that familiar, heart-stopping smile, and she made a beeline straight for him. He froze, gripping the handle of his basket like it might somehow shield him.

“Hi honey,” she said warmly, slipping her hand into his free one. Her touch was light, and casual, but it sent a wave of nervous energy coursing through his body. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hey,” he managed to squeak.

Her eyes dropped to the basket with curiosity as she leaned closer. “What do we have here?” She peeked in, lifting her eyebrows as she spotted the ingredients nestled at the bottom. “Flour? Sugar? Vanilla ext-

“It’s for Sam.” he cut her quickly, too quickly. “He asked me to grab some stuff for… for the shop. I needed to come here anyway to buy something for lunch.”

“For the shop?” she echoed, tilting her head.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “He forgot to pick it up earlier.”

Her eyes darted back to the basket. “Okay, but what about you? What are you grabbing for lunch?”

His chest tightened. He should’ve thought this through. “I’m not hungry,” he muttered, with a clipped tone.

“Not hungry?” she asked, “You’ve been working all day, Bucky. You should eat something-”

Her concern made his shoulders tense. He didn’t want her prying, didn’t want to screw up the surprise. “I said I’m fine,” he replied, harsher than he intended.

She blinked, taken aback. “Okay…”

He rubbed the back of his neck, as the guilt crept in when he saw the shift in her expression. Still, the panic swirling in his chest made it impossible to backtrack. “I just… I don’t have time to explain, alright?” he stated, in a hurried tone. “I need to get back to work.”

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say more, but he didn’t give her the chance. “I’ll see you later,” he added, moving past her with a quickness that felt borderline rude.

“Wait, Bucky-”

“I’ll call you,” he said over his shoulder, already heading for the register. He kept his eyes fixed ahead, avoiding the weight of her gaze as he paid and left the store.

Outside, the cold air hit his face, but it didn’t ease the heat of frustration prickling under his skin. He hated how his tone had come out. Too rough, too abrupt, but he was incapable of handling it differently.

She stood by the shelves long after Bucky had hurried out, the bell above the store’s door still faintly ringing in her ears. She replayed their conversation, or lack thereof, in her mind. His curt tone, the way he barely looked at her, it was unlike him. Maybe he was just having a bad day. She hoped that was all it was.

But then a few days passed, and she didn’t see him, and the messages were almost nonexistent.

What she didn’t know was that Bucky had been using every spare moment to tackle the recipes in that cookbook. Each attempt ended worse than the last: a disaster of burnt edges, underbaked centers, or cookies that crumbled to dust at the lightest touch.

He stood in his kitchen, staring at the latest batch, which somehow managed to be both rock-hard and sticky at the same time. He rubbed a hand down his face, the other gripping the counter as frustration curled tight in his chest. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

It wasn’t just the cookies. It was the nagging feeling that he was failing at something so simple. The harder he tried, the worse it seemed to get. Maybe there was something wrong with his brain. He threw himself into fixing it, retreating further into his house and unintentionally pulling away from her.

Each time she asked to meet, he had an excuse ready.

“I’m exhausted, darlin’.” he’d said one evening.

“Not feeling great, the migraine came back,” he told her the next day.

“Now’s not a good time,” was the worst.

When she offered to bring him lunch at the workshop, hoping for at least a few stolen minutes together, he deflected. “Shop’s too busy these days,” he had added gruffly. “Wouldn’t look good.”

Her heart sank every time he brushed her off. She tried not to take it personally, but the doubt started creeping like frost on a windowpane. Had she done something wrong? Was she being too pushy? Too clingy?

Sitting at home with her phone in her lap, she stared at his last message. The usual warmth in his words was absent. She bit her lip, scrolling back through their conversations, searching for some clue as to what had changed.

Eventually, Bucky grudgingly texted Sam's sister to ask for help. He stared at the phone screen, hovering his thumb over the send button. Every fiber of his being wanted to delete the message, but he was out of options. His fingers itched to toss the phone onto the counter and forget this ever happened, but instead, he hit send.

The reply came quickly:

Sure. Meet me at the diner during my break. You’re buying lunch.

The last part made him groan, but at least Sarah had agreed. She was the only person he could think of who could help him without making it a big deal. He’d dreaded this conversation from the moment he realized he couldn’t pull off the cookies on his own.

When lunchtime rolled around, Bucky made his way to the diner, with his stomach twisting with nerves. He slid into the booth across from Sarah, with tight shoulders and fidgeting hands.

“All right,” she said, leaning her elbows on the table. “You dragged me out here, so spill. What’s going on?”

Bucky shifted in his seat, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “I need help,” he muttered.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “With…?”

He sighed. “Cookies.”

“Cookies?” she repeated, clearly holding back a laugh.

“Yeah, cookies,” he grumbled, lowering his voice. “I’ve been trying to make them for Y/n. It’s supposed to be a Christmas gift, but I can’t get it right. Every batch is worse than the last.”

Sarah tilted her head, her expression somewhere between amused and concerned. “Wait a second. How many batches are we talking about here?”

Bucky hesitated, dropping his gaze to the table. “A lot,” he admitted reluctantly. “I’ve been working on it for… a few days now after work.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “A few days? What, have you just been locking yourself in your house this whole time? Baking?”

The remnants of his grilled cheese sat on the plate in front of him, barely touched. she, on the other hand, was halfway through her fries, a teasing smirk playing on her lips as she listened to him stumble through his explanation. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks heat. “Maybe. You know already that when I’m fixated on something I can get-”

“So let me get this straight,” Sarah interrupted, crossing her arms and leaning back in the booth. “You’ve been holing yourself up in your cabin, failing at baking cookies, and ignoring your girlfriend because you’re too proud to ask her for help?”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, no? Then what is it like?” she questioned, crossing her arms.

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the heavy weight of her stare. “I just… wanted to surprise her. She always does so much for me, and I thought I could do something nice for her for once. But nothing’s working, and-” He stopped, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

Sarah’s gaze softened, and her teasing gave way to something gentler. “Look, Bucky. It’s sweet that you want to do this for her. But you’re overthinking it. Cookies don’t have to be perfect; they just have to come from the heart, she would love them anyway.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he muttered.

Sarah laughed. “You think I was born knowing how to bake? Trust me, it took plenty of trial and error. And maybe a few smoke alarms.”

Bucky’s lips twitched, almost a smile.

“Okay,” she said, brushing her hands off on a napkin. “Let’s start with the basics. What recipe are you trying to use?”

Before he could answer, the bell over the diner door jingled, drawing both their gazes to the entrance. It was just a regular patron, and Bucky’s attention began to shift back to Sarah. But then, in the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her. She stood just outside the window, frozen mid-step, a paper bag from the bakery clutched tightly in her hands.

Bucky’s stomach dropped. She couldn’t hear them through the glass, but the scene must have looked... bad. Him sitting with Sarah, leaning casually across the table, with an easy smile lighting up the booth, while his phone sat untouched, with her unanswered messages still lingering in his inbox.

He swore under his breath.

Her lips parted slightly as if she was about to say something, but then she looked away.

He could see the shift, the moment her walls went up. She adjusted her grip on the bag, straightened her posture, and turned on her heel, walking briskly down the sidewalk.

“Uh-oh,” Sarah muttered, flicking her gaze between them. “Good luck with that,” she added dryly, biting into another fry as he scrambled out of the booth.

His long strides closed the distance quickly, but as he reached out to touch her shoulder, he hesitated. His hand hovered for a moment before dropping to his side. Instead, he called her name.

She didn’t stop right away, her pace faltering for half a second before continuing, though slower this time.

He tried again and she finally stopped, turning around slowly, eyes bright with unshed tears. The sight hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, the words he had lined up fled his mind.

“I can explain,” he said, stepping closer but keeping a careful distance.

She made a small motion with her head, a tilt that told him to continue. She didn’t trust her voice to speak just yet, tightening her grip around the bakery bag.

“I was talking to Sarah,” he began, “About... about a problem I’ve been having.”

Her brows furrowed, and he stumbled over his next words. “It’s-it’s nothing serious, just something I needed... advice on.”

“Advice?” she repeated, with a soft tone but tinged with something sharper.

He nodded, avoiding her eyes. “Yeah.”

She exhaled, and when she spoke again, her voice trembled a little. “You know, I always thought I was the person you’d turn to if you needed help.” Her gaze locked on his, vulnerable yet unyielding. “It seems like it's not the case lately.”

“That’s not true,” he stated quickly, words rushing together. “I… God, I’m sorry if I’ve been... distant. Absent. It’s not you, it’s-” He paused, groaning softly as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I have my reasons.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her next words were still calm but carried an edge. “We’re grown adults, Bucky. This isn’t one of those predictable novels where the characters dance around their miscommunication until everything blows up.” She crossed her arms, crinkling slightly the bakery bag . “If something’s going on, I expect you to be concrete with me, not feed me veiled comments or excuses.”

“I know,” he admitted, slumping his shoulders slightly. “You deserve better than that. I just... I didn’t want to mess this up.”

Her gaze softened, but she didn’t drop her stance. “Then stop treating me like I’m someone you could mess things up with, and just talk to me.”

Bucky let out a heavy breath, raking a hand through his hair. "Alright," he said, with a low but resolute voice. "I’ll just… come clean."

Her expression stayed guarded, but he could see a flicker of curiosity as he shifted his weight, looking anywhere but directly at her. "I don’t… I’m not great at this kind of thing. Talking, explaining. But I know this. You, us… this thing doesn’t mean anything if it’s making you upset." He rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words. "I’ve been working on something. For you."

“For me?” she asked, slightly raising her brows.

“Yeah.” He looked at her briefly before glancing away again, twitching his lips with nervous energy. "Cookies. I’ve been trying to bake cookies for you. For Christmas. I thought… you’re always cooking for me, always doing things to make my life easier. I wanted to do something for you. Something meaningful." He exhaled roughly, the words spilling out faster now. "But I’m awful at it. Every batch gets worse, and I’ve been so damn focused on trying to get it right that I didn’t even realize how I was shutting you out."

As the story progressed, she could see the tension in his posture, the way his hands flexed and fidgeted at his sides, and his eagerness to make things right even as he stumbled over his words. Her expression shifted, the initial frustration melting into something gentler as she bit her lip, her emotions caught between amusement and tenderness.

“Bucky,” she murmured, stepping forward before he could say more. She dropped the bakery bag and hugged him tightly, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He froze for a moment before leaning into the embrace, hesitantly circling his arms on her back. They stayed like that, wrapped in silence, until she broke the quiet.

"You could’ve just bought me a can of cookies, you know. Then I could’ve used it to put my sewing supplies in there.”

He let out a low laugh against her hair. "Yeah, but what kind of gesture would that be?"

"A less stressful one," she teased, pulling back just enough to look up at him, with a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Maybe," he admitted, his blue eyes searching hers. "But it wouldn’t have been the same."

“How about this,” she began, in a soft yet playful tone. “We make them together.”

Bucky blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Together?”

“Yeah,” she said, her smile widening. “I’ll teach you how to make them. We’ll turn it into a little… date. You’ll learn how to do it right, and my gift will be spending time with you.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a raised brow. “Before you argue, think about it. I don’t need some perfect Christmas cookies, Bucky. I’d much rather spend time with you, and make sure you don’t burn your kitchen down in the process.”

He hesitated, then gave her a slow nod. “Alright. We’ll make ‘em together.” Then a determined smile played on his lips. If learning to bake with her would give him another shot at perfecting those cookies on his own later, it was a win-win. And this time, he wouldn’t mess it up.

That afternoon, as planned, Bucky arrived at her house. When she opened the door, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him standing there with two overstuffed grocery bags in hand.

“You didn’t have to bring everything-,” she started, stepping aside to let him in.

“I did,” he cut in firmly, gripping the bags. “I’m the one learning here, and I’ll be damned if you’re the one paying for my mess-ups.”

She chuckled. “Don’t sell yourself short just yet. You might have a hidden talent.”

He gave her a doubtful look but didn’t argue. Turning fully to her, he gave her a quick, self-conscious smile before she leaned up to kiss him, a soft, reassuring press of her lips against his.

“Come on,” she said, pulling back and taking his hand. “I’ve got everything set up.”

She led him to the kitchen, where bowls, measuring cups, and utensils were neatly arranged. A checkered white-and-blue apron lay folded on the counter, which she promptly picked up and handed to him.

“What’s this?” he asked, eyeing the apron like it might bite.

“Your apron,” she said simply, unfolding it and holding it up to him. “It’s going to save you from ruining that nice shirt of yours. Plus, it suits you.”

He muttered something under his breath about dignity, but he didn’t resist when she slipped it over his head and tied the strings at his back. She stepped back, tilting her head as if admiring her handiwork.

“There. Perfect,” she said with a grin.

He shook his head, but his lips twitched in a faint smile. “Alright, what now?”

“Well, first,” she began, pulling out a notebook and pen, “which recipe were you trying?”

Bucky hesitated, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “I mean… if you’ve got a favorite, we could try that instead.”

“Nope,” she replied, crossing her arms with a playful smile. “This is your project. I want to see what you picked.”

His ears turned red as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled recipe card with his handwriting, handing it to her.

She smoothed it out, scanning the list of ingredients and instructions. “Alright,” she said, looking up at him with an amused and encouraging smile. “Let’s see if we can make some magic happen.”

Bucky grabbed an elastic band from his back pocket, pulling his hair back and tying it into a short ponytail. His movements were quick and practiced, but to her, it was a sight worth pausing for.

“You know,” she said, leaning against the counter with a teasing grin, “you look ridiculously handsome like that.”

He glanced at her, his cheeks warming as he muttered, “It’s just a hairdo for workin’. Nothin’ fancy.”

“Still counts,” she replied with a shrug, stepping closer to nudge his arm.

He ducked his head with a quiet huff but didn’t say more, focusing instead on the task at hand.

When they started reading through the recipe together, Bucky's brow furrowed in concentration. “Okay,” he muttered, “this part says a cup.” As he spoke, he reached for a mug she hadn’t even noticed sitting on the counter, a large, oversized thing that looked more suited for a vat of coffee than precise measurements. She blinked, then glanced up at him.

“Bucky,” she said gently, pointing at the mug, “what have you been using for this?”

He hesitated, shifting his weight. “Uh… one from my cupboard,” he admitted, his tone almost defensive. “The grey one with the red star?”

Her lips twitched, and she pressed them together to suppress a laugh. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said softly, shaking her head. “Not all cups are the same, especially when you’re baking. It’s not about a drinking cup, it’s about measuring cups.”

She picked up her set of cups, holding them up for him to see. “These are what you use for recipes. They’re standardized so everything comes out the way it’s supposed to.”

Bucky looked between the measuring cups and his oversized mug, and realization dawned on his face. “So… that’s why every batch turned out so bad,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Baking is like chemistry.” She added with a chuckle, “The right proportions make everything work smoothly. I guess you didn’t differentiate the size of the spoons either.” When she saw his disappointed face she reached up to gently pat his shoulder. “You’re not alone. A lot of people make these mistakes when they start. That’s why we’re doing this together.”

They moved through the recipe step by step, she perched beside him, offering guidance but letting him take the lead. Bucky tried to focus on the instructions, but each step felt like a puzzle missing a crucial piece. As he measured out flour and sugar, he couldn’t help but second-guess every motion, leveling off scoops with exacting care that bordered on obsession.

It wasn’t just the baking, it was her watching him. Her eyes followed his hands with a soft patience that should’ve soothed him, but instead left him hyper-aware of every move he made. He could feel her gaze like a weight, one he didn’t know how to carry. His shoulders stiffened further when he noticed a bit of flour scatter onto the counter.

When he started mixing the dough, frustration began to creep in. “This stuff doesn’t want to combine,” he muttered, glaring down at the stubbornly clumpy mixture.

She leaned closer, brushing her hand lightly against his back as she peered into the bowl. Her touch sent a jolt through his body not unpleasant, just… distracting. “It takes a little patience,” she said softly. “You’re doing fine, Bucky. Really.”

He wanted to believe her, but the self-doubt crept intrusive inside him. What if I screw this up? The thought lingered on a loop, heavy and unwelcome. He worked the spatula harder, tension tightening his jaw and making his movements stiff.

She noticed, of course she did. She always noticed. Setting her utensils aside, she slipped an arm around his waist, pulling herself close to his side. Her nose brushed against his chest as she nuzzled him gently, the warmth of her body cutting through the wall he didn’t even realize he’d been building.

“Relax,” she murmured, looking up at him with a soft smile. “You’re not dismantling a bomb here. No one’s born knowing everything, and you came today to learn. That’s already the hardest part.”

He let out a breath, as her words chipped away some of the tension clawing at him. “Yeah,” he muttered, though his movements were still careful and deliberate as if the dough would mock him for messing up.

She tilted her head with a mischievous glint sparking in her eyes. He recognized that look and braced himself, but nothing could have prepared him for what she did next. Without a word, she grabbed his hand, still sticky with half-mixed dough, and brought it to her mouth.

His eyes widened as two of his fingers disappeared between her lips. The room stilled, and his focus narrowed to her. Her tongue swirled over his skin, warm and deliberate, as she sucked the dough clean. His heart thudded against his ribs, his breath catching somewhere in his throat.

“What… what are you doing?” he managed, his voice raspier than intended.

She released his fingers with a soft pop and a smug expression. “Waking you up,” she teased. “And there’s no way you could disappoint me anyway. I’ve barely been paying attention to the recipe.”

His brow furrowed. “Why?”

Her lips curled into a grin as her gaze swept over him, slow and deliberate. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “Big guy in my kitchen, wearing my apron, looking way too good with his hair pulled back. Take your pick.”

Heat crawled up his neck, but he couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, shaking his head as he turned back to the bowl.

When the time to cut the cookies came, Bucky rummaged through one of the bags he’d brought and pulled out a set of festive cookie cutters. He laid them on the counter, and she squealed in delight, clapping her hands together.

“These are so cute!” she exclaimed, excited.

Bucky’s half-smile turned bigger. “Yeah?”

She nodded enthusiastically, picking up one of the cutters shaped like a snowflake. “Good choice, honey.”

His chest warmed at her praise, and for once, he didn’t feel quite so out of his depth. They worked side by side together, cutting the dough into cheerful shapes. She was quick, deftly pressing cutters into the rolled-out dough and transferring each piece to the baking tray with ease. He followed her lead, slower but methodical, determined to match her precision.

In what felt like no time, the oven was full of cookies, their sweet, buttery scent already starting to fill the kitchen. Bucky leaned back against the counter, pulling her into his side with one arm. She nestled into him, resting her head against his chest as they both stared at the timer ticking down.

“You’re getting pretty domestic.” she teased, tilting her head up, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, letting her lips linger there for a moment. “So,” she began, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “how are you planning to decorate these?”

He froze. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. His brow furrowed as he glanced at the trays, panic flickering in his blue eyes. “I, uh…” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t… I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Her laughter was light but not unkind. “It’s okay,” she said, patting his chest reassuringly. “I’ll take care of it.”

“That wasn’t the idea,” he protested, frowning. “This is supposed to be my thing. For you.”

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll teach you how to make royal icing, and then you’re on your own.”

The timer dinged, and they set about transferring the cookies to cooling racks. Once the cookies were ready, she walked him through the steps of making royal icing, from mixing the powdered sugar to coloring small batches with food dye.

At first, his hands were clumsy, unfamiliar with the delicate work of piping, but soon enough, Bucky found his rhythm. He focused intently on each cookie, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth as he carefully outlined a reindeer’s antlers or added intricate snowflake details.

She stood back, watching with growing amazement. “You’ve got a steady hand,” she remarked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter.

He shrugged, still concentrating. “I’ve had practice. Just… not with this.”

By the time he finished, the cookies were nothing short of impressive. Each one was decorated with precision, from cheerful Santas to elegant wreaths. He turned to her, brushing a streak of flour from his cheek with the back of his hand. “Well?” She grinned, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. “They’re perfect, Bucky.”

The sky was painted in soft strokes of pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. Bucky stretched his arms above his head, his joints popping after hours spent hunched over the kitchen counter. “I’ll leave the cookies here to set overnight,” he said, glancing at the rows of perfectly iced cookies spread across her counter. “But I need to head over to the workshop. Got some decorations to drop off.”

“Decorations?” she asked, tilting her head.

He nodded toward the door. “Yeah, Sam thought it’d be nice if everyone pitched in this year. Made something personal for the display. I’ve got mine in the truck.”

Her face lit up. “Can I come? I’ll help you set everything up.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, but the warmth in her gaze was hard to resist. “Alright,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “Let’s go.”

By the time they reached the workshop, the place was dark and locked up for the evening. Bucky fished his keys out of his pocket. “Here we are,” he muttered, unlocking the door and holding it open for her.

The workshop smelled faintly of sawdust and varnish, even in the chill of winter. A few decorations already hung from the rafters: wooden stars, garlands crafted from pinecones, and even a clumsily painted reindeer that had Sarah’s handiwork written all over it.

She wandered further inside, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she took in the holiday cheer. “This is so cozy,” she said, her voice echoing softly in the empty space.

Bucky stepped past her, setting a large box on the workbench. She peeked inside, smiling as she spotted a tangle of string lights. “Oh, these are perfect! Did you really make these?”

“They’re just lights,” he replied with a shrug, and a faint blush on his cheeks.

She picked up a strand and held it aloft, the tiny bulbs catching the last traces of daylight filtering through the workshop windows. “No, I can tell you put effort into this, they are gorgeous.”

Her words made his chest tighten, with a mix of pride and awkwardness. “Come on,” he said, reaching for the box. “Let’s get these up.”

They worked side by side, untangling the string lights with care. She gently teased him when he accidentally knotted a section tighter, but as they kept at it, she couldn’t help but praise him again.

“You’re so good at manual labor,” she said, handing him the next strand. “Carpentry at Sam’s, the cookies earlier, fixing things around my place... and now these lights? Is there anything you can’t do?”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile, but her words stirred darker thoughts within his mind. Oh, if she only knew what else his hands were good at. Things that involve a knife, a rifle, or worse. The memories flickered like a shadow across his mind, a sharp contrast to the festive glow they were creating.

“Bucky?” Her soft voice pulled him from the spiral.

“Hm?” he mumbled, blinking as he looked at her.

“Maybe you could make some lights for me next year,” she suggested.

He exhaled softly, forcing the tension out of his shoulders. “Sure.”

Sensing the remnants of whatever had crossed his mind, she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her cheek against his chest. Her embrace relaxed him, the warmth of her touch chasing away the cold corners of his thoughts.

“You still have the ponytail,” she pointed out, glancing up at him with a grin. “I love it.”

He rolled his eyes, though a faint flush touched his cheeks. “It’s practical,” he repeated, focusing on arranging the next strand of lights.

“It’s sexy,” she countered, her grin turning mischievous.

As he worked, her eyes fell on the remaining strand of lights still in the box, and a mischievous idea sparked in her mind.

“You know,” she began, picking up the last strand, “these could do more than just decorate the workshop.”

He looked up at her, brow raised. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

She shrugged, holding the strand up and letting it dangle between her fingers. “I don’t know. They seem sturdy enough to, I don’t know... tie something up?”

His head tilted, blue eyes narrowing slightly as he caught the teasing edge in her tone. “You mean like a post?”

“Sure, Bucky. A post,” she replied, quirking her lips into a smirk.

He took a step toward her, closing the gap between them. “Or something else?”

Her grin widened. “That’s up to you, isn’t it?”

He didn’t say anything, but the shift in his expression was unmistakable. Without a word, he plucked the strand of lights from her hands and looped it loosely over her wrist. Her heart skipped, as he moved with the careful, deliberate precision she’d just been praising. Before she could react, he had her wrists gently bound together with the lights, tying them off to the sturdy handle of the workbench vice.

“Bucky,” she murmured, tugging lightly at the restraint, “I didn’t mean... here.”

His brow quirked, as he leaned back, casually admiring his handiwork. “Oh, didn’t you?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she squirmed a little, testing the hold. “What if someone comes in?”

“No one’s coming in,” he said, his voice calm and confident.

“You don’t know that,” she countered, darting her eyes toward the locked door as though willing it to stay closed.

He stepped closer, crowding her space in that way that always made her pulse race. “Well,” he drawled, one hand tracing the strand around her wrists, “you should’ve thought about that before suggesting this creative use for my handiwork.”

Her lips parted, a retort bubbling on her tongue, but it fizzled under the weight of his heated gaze. “I didn’t think you’d actually... do it,” she whispered.

“That so?” His voice was low and teasing as he leaned in and his breath brushed her ear. “Then maybe you shouldn’t dare me next time.”

Before she could muster a reply, his free hand cradled the back of her neck, pulling her into a rough, searing kiss. He took full advantage of her startled gasp to deepen it, lifting her effortlessly and laying her back on the workbench.  Her arms were stretched above her head, her wrists binded to the handle, a tether she couldn’t help but tug against instinctively.

“Bucky,” she breathed, with a mix of arousal and reason. “We can’t... not here.”

“Can’t we?” he murmured, grazing his lips at the sensitive skin beneath her jaw. His hands, strong and sure, settled on her hips as he positioned himself between her legs.

Her protests faltered as his mouth found the hollow of her throat, trailing wet, deliberate kisses down to her collarbone.

“This is insane,” she whispered, though her fingers flexed against the strands holding her wrists.

“Maybe,” he rasped, his voice rough with need. “But you don’t seem to mind.” Her body betrayed her, arching toward him, inviting his touch as he continued his slow, torturous path down her neck.

As he spoke, his hand traced up her thigh, slipping beneath the woolen skirt she’d worn to keep warm in the crisp winter air. His fingers traveled with deliberate slowness, brushing over her stocking-clad legs until they reached her mound, cupping it through her already damp panties. She gasped, tugging against the makeshift restraint at her wrists as his touch sent a jolt of heat through her body.

“In fact,” he murmured, pressing his fingers more firmly against her, “you’re enjoying it.”

Her breath hitched, and she couldn’t summon a denial, not with the way her body was reacting. He smirked at her silence, leaning back slightly to survey the sight of her stretched out on the workbench.

His hands shifted to her hips, sliding her skirt up higher, bunching it around her waist. His gaze darkened as he poked at her clothed entrance, watching the way she arched toward him, needing more. His teeth sank into his bottom lip as he let out a low groan.

“The jacket stays on,” he growled, commanding. She blinked at him, a question forming at her lips, but he shook his head. “It’s cold, and I’m not letting you freeze on me.”

Before she could respond, he shrugged off his own jacket, tossing it onto a nearby stool. His hands moved to his belt, fumbling with the buckle and zipper in his urgency. “I was gonna take my time,” he admitted, his voice rough with restraint, “but seeing you like this…” His gaze raked over her, taking in the flush on her cheeks, the way her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath her jacket, and the way her legs spread just enough to accommodate him. “I need you now, sweetheart.”

Her lips parted softly “I want you too, Bucky.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he tugged them down her thighs, the damp fabric clinging stubbornly before he discarded them onto the floor. His own pants and underwear followed in quick succession, pooling around his boots as he climbed back over her.

The heat of his body pressed against hers was a stark contrast to the chill in the air. His rough hands held her hips as he shifted between her legs and captured her lips in a deep, consuming kiss, grinding his cock against her slick folds. She moaned into his mouth, instinctively lifting her body toward him, chasing the friction.

“Fuck,” he rasped against her lips, dropping his forehead to rest against hers. “You feel so good, sugar. So wet for me.”

Her only response was another needy arch of her hips, and he growled softly, gripping her thighs as he lined himself up with her entrance. The tip of his cock teased her, as though he was savoring the moment despite his earlier haste.

“Bucky,” she whimpered, her voice raw with need, “please.”

His jaw tightened, his resolve barely hanging by a thread. “Don’t be impatient” he murmured. “I want to-” He broke off, swallowing hard as his cock pressed against her entrance, her heat almost enough to make him lose control. “I want to just fuck you right now, but I didn’t prep you. I’m not risking hurting you.”

She groaned in frustration, tipping back her head against the workbench. In her heated state, her filter was long gone. “I don’t care, Bucky. I want it all, right now.”

His blue eyes snapped to hers, darkened with lust but narrowing with a hint of reproach. “Don’t say things like that,” he growled with a strained voice. “You’re making this harder for me.”

Her lips curved into a sly smile, even as she squirmed beneath him. “Good.”

Bucky let out a low, frustrated groan, gripping her hips a little tighter. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was no real heat in his words. She could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, even as he fought to stay focused.

He shifted, moving one hand between them to guide himself, while the other kept her firmly in place. Slowly, carefully, he began to push inside, stopping to let her adjust with each inch. Her walls stretched around him, the delicious burn making her moan, pulling her bound wrists reflexively against the lights as she arched her back.

She whimpered his name, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull him closer. “More,” she pleaded, her breath coming in short, needy gasps.

“Darlin' I’m trying,” he rasped, pausing to catch his breath, pressing his forehead against hers. “But you gotta let me take care of you.”

Her head tilted, locking her eyes with his, and there was so much trust and desire in her gaze that it almost undid him. “You are, Bucky,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “But I need it now.”

His restraint cracked, and with a low groan, he pushed deeper, sinking into her inch by inch until he was fully seated inside her.

Bucky groaned as her walls clenched around him. She mewled softly, tilting her head back, her bound wrists tugging at the lights as she instinctively moved her hips upward, desperate for more.

“See?” she murmured, brushing his lips with hers. “I told you I could take it.” She teased.

His jaw tightened, and a low growl rumbled in his chest. “You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to thrust forward again, deliberately slow despite the tension tightening every muscle in his body.

Her whimper sent a jolt of desire straight to his cock as her legs tightened around his hips, meeting his shallow movements. “Please, baby,” she gasped, her voice trembling with need. “I need you to move.”

“Just… wait,” he ground out, his jaw tight as he tried to keep himself in check. His restraint was hanging by a thread, but he was determined to go slow, to make it good for her despite the fire licking at his nerves. The way she shifted beneath him, her hips rolling against his, hot, wet, and utterly desperate, was unraveling him inch by inch.

And then she did it, arching her back, pressing her chest against his, and nipping at his bottom lip before her tongue darted out to soothe the sting. “Please,” she pleaded, locking her eyes onto his with wild abandon.

He snapped.

With a guttural groan, he slammed into her, hard and deep. She cried out, a sharp sound that made him freeze with guilt.

“Shit,” he muttered, his body taut with tension. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head furiously, her eyes glassy with need as she squirmed beneath him. “No. God, no,” she whimpered, her voice broken. “Don’t stop. Please, Bucky, don’t stop.”

He exhaled slowly, rough and ragged as he fought to steady himself. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmured, with a strained voice.

He started again, his movements slow at first, but the way her body responded to him, -arching, trembling, pushing- had his resolve crumbling all over again. He tried to quicken his pace, thrust harder, deeper, but the workbench beneath them was unforgivingly hard, and he growled in frustration, halting mid-thrust. With a muttered curse, he pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach in one swift motion. His hands gripped her hips, lifting them slightly as he pushed her skirt higher and entered her again, this time setting a punishing pace, the new angle pulling a sharp cry from her lips.

“Better?” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “You just couldn’t wait, didn’t you?” he grunted, gripping her hips tightly as he drove into her.

Her only response was a desperate moan, rolling back her hips against him as though to urge him deeper.

The sight of her body rippling down his, her restrained hands trying to hold onto something, and her flushed face pressed against the wood was enough to drive him wild. “Look at you,” he muttered. “So perfect like this, all laid out for me.” He pulled back, straightening, and gripped her hips hard enough to leave marks as he plunged into her with renewed force. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, as he pushed her higher and higher.

Every time she gasped his name, every shudder that ran through her body, spurred him on. He felt her tense and start to tremble, and he knew she was close. His fingers slid down to where they were joined, brushing against her clit, and she nearly screamed, trembling and spiraling closer to the edge.

“Come on,” he murmured, rough and coaxing. “I know you’re close. Give it to me, sweetheart.”

Her body obeyed before her mind caught up, crying out his name, dragging him into his own release with a hoarse groan as he buried himself deep inside her one last time.

They stayed like that for a moment, with his body draped over hers, ragged breaths mingling in the chilled air of the workshop. He pressed a soft kiss at the back of her neck, and gently nipped the sensitive skin peeking through her jacket.

As the heat of the moment faded, a flicker of practicality broke through the haze clouding Bucky’s mind. His gaze drifted to the polished surface of the workbench beneath her, and the realization hit him like a bucket of cold water. If he weren’t careful, they’d leave an undeniable -and very permanent- mark on the wood.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, pressing another soft kiss to the nape of her neck.

She turned her head slightly. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice soft and hoarse from her cries moments ago.

“The bench,” he grumbled, steadying her hips with his hands. “I didn’t think it through. If we…” He hesitated, just the thought of explaining the stain on the workbench’s varnish was almost as mortifying as the act itself.

Her chuckle was low and warm. “Are you serious?” she teased, her body still pliant under his hands.

“Very. Sam’ll notice, and I’m not about to answer questions about this.”

“Fine,” she giggled, smirking over her shoulder. “So, what’s the plan?”

First, he tugged at the string to sever it and free her from the handle, then, instead of pulling out abruptly, he eased back, hands steady on her hips as he helped her shift, guiding her carefully to sit on his lap. Her knees wobbled, still weak from the ordeal

“Bucky,” she began, her voice playful but still breathless, “if this is your way of sweeping me off my feet-”

“Shut up,” a soft laugh rumbled from his chest. He adjusted his grip, shifting slightly until he was closer to the edge of the workbench. With a deliberate steadiness, he leaned forward and gently lowered her until her feet touched the cold floor.

She gasped at the chill against her bare toes, instinctively leaning back into his warmth. “Not exactly a graceful dismount,” she quipped, curving her lips into a smirk as her hands found his forearms for balance.

Bucky winced, a hint of pink creeping up his cheeks. “I can’t believe you just said that,” he muttered, half under his breath.

She grinned, brushing back a stray lock of hair. “You can thank the Wild West novel I’m working on for that one.”

His brow arched as he helped her steady herself. “Oh, so you traded the laird’s sword for the cowboy’s long gun, huh?”

Her laugh bubbled out, leaning into him as her shoulders shook. “You know,” she teased, poking his chest lightly, “you’re catching on a little too quickly to these tropes.”

Bucky’s gaze dropped to her wrists, still loosely bound by the string of lights he severed from the bench. His lips quirked into a mischievous smirk as he reached down, gripping the strand and giving it a gentle tug. “Oh, maybe I’m just entertaining the idea of you being my captive, in retaliation for the sheriff messing with my business,” he said, his voice low and playful.

Her laughter cut off with a soft gasp, and she feet her cheeks starting to heat. “Y-you talk about your sister’s novels,” she stammered, narrowing her eyes at him. “But I’m starting to think you’ve read this kind of thing. As a horny teenager, or… I don’t know!”

He chuckled. “You think I spent my teenage years reading romance novels?

“Well,” she said, with a playful tone, “not everyone had the internet back then, and I’m sure there was a limit to how many dirty magazines a boy could buy with his allowance. Especially in a small town.”

Bucky’s brow shot up. “Dirty magazines, huh?”

She grinned, shrugging as she leaned into him. “What can I say? I can totally imagine young, innocent Bucky Barnes, desperate for... enlightenment, flipping through anything he could get his hands on.”

“I didn’t-“

“Don’t try to deny it. It’s not like you had endless options. A boy’s gotta make do.”

Bucky shook his head, his ears visibly red as he muttered, “We are not having this conversation.”

“Oh, we absolutely are,” she teased, her grin widening as she poked his chest again, delighting in his flustered expression. “Come on, enlighten me. What did you do for fun in a town like this as a teenager?”

“Worked,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as if that would end the conversation.

“Worked?” she echoed, incredulous. “That’s it? No sneaking out, no rebellious shenanigans, no awkward first crushes?”

Bucky sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor as if avoiding hers might shield him from the conversation. “I guess eventually you’ll find out,” he muttered, “since it seems the people of this town love to gossip like it’s a local sport.”

She tilted her head, intrigued by his sudden reluctance. “Oh? And what juicy tidbit am I missing out on?”

He hesitated, pressing his lips into a thin line before finally relenting. “I was... erm, popular with the girls ’round here,” he confessed in a low and gruff tone, like he was confessing a crime.

Her eyebrows shot up, and she barely contained a laugh. “Popular? Like, homecoming king popular or...?”

“Not exactly,” he cut in quickly, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Let’s just say I didn’t exactly have to grab a magazine to see... you know...” He trailed off, making a vague gesture with his hand that only deepened the flush on his cheeks.

Her mouth fell open in mock shock, one hand flying to her chest. “Bucky Barnes,” she gasped, “are you telling me you were the town’s resident heartbreaker?”

“I didn’t say that!” he shot back, his ears turning red.

“You didn’t not say it,” she teased, leaning closer with a wicked grin. “Now I need details. How many hearts did you leave shattered? How many windows did you sneak out of at the crack of dawn?”

He groaned, dragging his hand down his face. “It wasn’t like that,” he insisted, though his flustered tone betrayed him. “And I didn’t sneak out of anyone’s window, thank you very much.”

Bucky’s hand dropped from his face, his expression shifting into something more subdued. “Anyway,” he said, his voice quieter, “it was a long time ago. Sometimes it feels like it was another life.”

Her playful grin softened at his tone, her teasing instinctively halting as she watched him carefully.

“I left the town when I enlisted,” he continued, glancing away as if looking for the right words. “And only came back after fifteen years. When they...” His jaw tightened for a moment before he finished, “...decided I wasn’t enough anymore to be serving.”

Her heart ached at the weight of his words and she stepped closer, reaching for his hands as she studied his face. “Bucky…”

He shook his head slightly, offering a small, forced smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “’s fine,” he said, though the tightness in his tone suggested otherwise.

Her grip on his hands tightened. “You’re more than enough. To me. To everyone who really knows you.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at her with an unreadable expression. Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his smile turned genuine, though still tinged with a trace of sadness.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

Suddenly she sneezed, suddenly and sharp, breaking the fragile silence. Bucky blinked as if pulled out of a trance, and his gaze swept over the two of them.

He was naked from the waist down, her feet still bare on the cold workshop floor. His brows knitted together as he tousled his hair, flush creeping up his neck. Without a word, he reached for his boxers, handing them to her in a silent but clear gesture.

She took them, understanding immediately, and began to clean herself as he turned away slightly, reaching for his pants. The sound of fabric sliding and belts clicking filled the space, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

Once his jeans were on and fastened, he turned back to her with a soft expression. “We should go. We already did what we came to do…” his lips quirked in a faint, amused smirk, “and more. I don’t want you catching a cold.”

She stepped closer and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Do you really have to go back to the cabin?” she asked, “My house is closer to the workshop. You could sleep a little longer before work... and you’d get a proper breakfast.”

Bucky paused, studying her face as if weighing her offer. “You trying to bribe me with food?” he asked, a small smirk playing at his lips.

She arched a brow, feigning indignation, “Do I really have to bribe you to convince you to sleep with me?” she asked, crossing her arms and tilting her head.

“I-” He opened his mouth, then closed it, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze darted to the floor. “T-that’s not what I meant,” he muttered.

She tiptoed and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, “I know, honey,” she murmured, affectionally. “I was just messing with you.”

“Still,” she continued, her gaze searching his as her hands settled gently on his chest. “Will you come? I really missed my man these days of cookie quarantine.”

Every time she called him her man, Bucky’s chest swelled with an unspoken pride. His blush crept up from his collar, painting his cheeks faintly pink as he looked at her.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a low murmur, a small but shy smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll give my woman whatever she needs.”

Her grin was warm and triumphant, and she gave his chest a playful pat. “Good answer.”

Bucky chuckled softly, pulling her into a loose embrace. “You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, you know that?”

She tilted her head, with an amused glint in her eyes. “Is that so?” she asked, her voice lilting with curiosity. “Well, if you were a little more selfish, you’d know that you could ask me anything, and I’d give it to you.”

His brow furrowed slightly at her words, “Anything?” he asked softly as if testing the weight of her promise.

She nodded, her fingers brushing lightly over his chest. “Anything,” she confirmed warmly.

For a moment, Bucky didn’t reply. Then he gave her a faint smile, a hint of vulnerability flickering in his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he murmured, tracing a soft arc along her back with his thumb.

His gaze flickered to the window where the night stretched on and cleared his throat. “We should head back,” he suggested. Then, after a beat, his lips quirked into a soft smirk, adding, almost shyly, “Maybe I’m feeling a little selfish tonight.”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, the corner of her mouth tugging into a grin. “Oh? What does that mean?”

Bucky shrugged, drifting his hand to the small of her back as he gently nudged her toward the door. “Guess you’ll just have to come home with me and find out.”

Dividers by: @/saradika

[holylulusworld]

Collateral Damage (1)

Summary: He only wanted some coffee.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: secret admirer, kinda love-struck Bucky, shooting, violence, blood, getting shot

Collateral Damage masterlist

Bucky hates it when things go wrong. He just hates it. Especially when he didn’t expect things to go awry.

On any other day, he’d expect things to turn out for the worst. Just not today. Today, of all days, shit had to hit the fan.

All he wanted was a coffee at his favorite café and a slice of the pie the owner bakes every Friday.

If he’s honest, Bucky would admit that he comes to the little bakery every Friday afternoon to see the woman he spotted some months ago.

She’s there every Friday after work to order tea, chamomile, and a cupcake. Sometimes she’s adventurous and takes a cinnamon roll.

Bucky chuckled when he heard her talk to the barista, telling her she wanted to be wild that day. He couldn’t help but smile at her innocent guilty pleasure. She was so unlike the people in his life. Sweet and kind.

Today, he wanted to talk to her. Today, he planned on introducing himself to the sweet woman stealing his heart bit by bit over the last few months.

Fate had different plans...

One hour earlier.

Bucky is in a good mood. No, he’s having one of the best days of his life. Business is good. He’s on top of the food chain, and he will finally talk to the woman he’s going to make his queen one day. – One step after another.

He opens the door to the little café he found when he was aimlessly roaming the streets of New York. Bucky only wanted to blow off some steam and sort his thoughts but ended up at the little café with coffee and pie. Finding so much more.

Bucky smiles as the little bell above the door rings. It feels like coming home every time he enters this place.

The owner greets him whenever Bucky is around, and the barista knows his favorite order. A risk, Bucky’s best friend Steve would say. Escapism from his life, Bucky would say.

She’s already there, engrossed in yet another book. This time, it’s a dark romance novel about a mafia boss and a shy librarian. Bucky knows because he googled the name to find out as much as possible about the books she loves to read.

“Hello,” the owner waves at Bucky, smiling as she passes him by. “Frankie will get you the usual.”

“Thank you,” Bucky nods before looking for a table closer to her. It’s the first time he’ll sit close to her, not at his favorite table, to watch her from afar.

“All for our favorite regular,” she says, walking away to check on the pies in the back of the café.

Bucky smiles. A soft smile, a genuine one. This place holds magic he can’t explain. It’s the calm in his life. Haven. An escape.

“Coffee and cherry pie coming your way,” the waitress says, balancing a tray in one hand.

Bucky frowns. He’s not a fan of changes. The new face walking toward his table, chirping and smiling as she struggles to not drop the tray, brings tension back into these fleeting, peaceful moments he spent at the café.

His instinct kicks in seconds before the waitress drops the tray to point her gun at him. Bucky takes her out with one precise shot, a bullet to her forehead.

People start to scream, and chaos breaks out. Most of the customers ran out of the café, along with the owner.

“I won’t miss,” the barista he chatted with so many times says. They jump over the counter, gun aimed at Bucky. “Your time has come.”

Bucky huffs. He’s about to shoot his attacker when a book hits the barista’s head. It’s almost hilarious. If not for the gun pointing in his direction, Bucky would laugh.

“Bitch,” the barista turns their attention toward you, their attacker. You gasp and drop to the ground, crawling under the table as they shoot in your direction.

Bucky reacts in a split second. He tackles the barista to the ground, taking them out with one hard punch to the chin. “Bastard, I’ll get to you later.”

He gets back up to look for her, his savior, and the sweet woman who enchanted him. Bucky gasps, watching you hunch over, blood soaking your pretty sundress.

“Doll, no,” he crouches beside you to cradle you in his arms. Bucky presses his hand to the wound on your arm, sighing because it’s not a deadly wound. “I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“I,” you carefully touch his hand. “That wasn’t how I expected to finally get to know your name …”

[navybrat817]

Need to start this by saying you're amazing and I love your work!!

So....this reblog of yours....any thoughts on which Bucky might have a little fun with it?

I appreciate that, lovely! I'm glad you enjoy my nonsense.❤️As far which Bucky would have fun, so many in varying ways!

Librarian!Bucky would love to set up a romantic evening for you, surrounding by candles. He'd slowly blow out each candle so you have to get closer to him. Eventually he'll blow the last one out, just before he kisses you. Perfect moment.

Knight!Bucky would go to your room during a storm with all the lights out. He doesn't light a ton of candles. Enough to see the different parts of your room (he has to keep you safe), but he stays right by your side. Once the lights are back on, you can't help staring at him as he extinguishes the flames. You almost wish the lights would go out again.

Demon!Bucky will happily use those candles on his sorceress. The flames won't burn you. He knows that. It's still fun to drip the wax on your skin and watch you writhe against the restraints. It's almost a game to see if you can stay still. Or to see how quickly you'll get free.

Love and thanks! ❤️

[thezombieprostitute]

"I told you to stay inside.

Summary: The Bikers' reign of terror comes to an end.

A/N: The "thrilling" conclusion to the What's Mine trilogy.

Warnings: Implied noncon, Murder, Violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

Previous Part

Your woken up by Bucky's phone going off. Not that you were sleeping well anyways because of the nightmares. You missed the days Bucky didn't stay the night with you. But with Bunny being confirmed pregnant, apparently it was your turn and Bucky became even more of a menace.

Bucky finally answers his phone with a sharp, "what?" You don't hear the other side of the conversation but the fact that Bucky is immediately out of bed and getting dressed tells you it's bad. "Hold position. I'll be there in just seconds. Send someone to get Cap out of bed." He hangs up and mutters, "can't believe he ain't already on this."

"Bucky?"

Startled, he turns to you, "stay inside. Don't open the door for anyone until I get back."

All you can do is nod. You don't think you've ever seen him so agitated. Is he actually nervous about something? What the hell is going on?

You jump at the sound of the front door slamming. You start to get out of bed, unable to stay put, when you hear gunshots and shouting, making you scream. You quickly grab a nightgown to cover your nakedness in case someone comes into your house. Bucky's always been adamant about people not getting to see what's his.

The shouting dies down. It's almost painfully quiet now. You can't help but start walking towards the living room where you might get a look at what's going on outside.

There's more shouting. You can't make out the words but you recognize Bucky's voice. He's arguing with someone but you don't know who. There's another gunshot and more shouting. A second shot and a bullet goes through the living room window making you scream. There's silence after that.

"Who's in there?" the unknown voice calls out. "Come on out here, lass."

You've gotten so used to following orders you start to move into sight. Bucky shouts, "I told you to stay inside!" and you flinch.

You're still just in the living room but you can see he's not in a good spot. He's on his knees with a gun behind his head. His nose looks broken. His hands are bound behind him, you hope it's strong enough to keep his metal arm contained. You've never seen him so angry before.

A man with tattoos on his face gestures for you to step out more into view. "C'mon lass, we're not in the habit of hurting noncombatants. Unlike this pig and his friend."

You walk to the front door and open it.

"STAY INS---" Bucky's shout is cut off by a punch to the face. If his nose wasn't broken before, it is now.

The man with the face tattoos walks up to you. You take a step back and he stops, holding out a placating hand. "You his girl?"

"Not willingly," you confess.

He nods as if you've confirmed something for him. "I'm Harald. Rogers' girl begged us to take out Barnes as well and rescue you."

Your eyes widen. "You took out Captain?"

Harald nods again. "He was the main target. Killed a lot of our men, thinking we'd taken the girl. Blood is owed."

"You're going to kill Bucky, too?"

"I'll leave his fate for you to decide," he answers. "You see, tomorrow, the FBI will be showing up to clean up your little town. Get rid of the sheriff, mayor, and others from this one's gang. We were given the tip off so we could get our blood price ahead of time. You get to choose, do we kill him? Do you? Or does he go to prison for a long, long time?"

Bucky almost looks at you pleadingly. "It wasn't all bad was it? I took good care of you."

"Can I watch you kill him?"

Harald laughs, "of course, lass!"

He points to Bucky and you hear the bang of the gun behind Bucky's head, making you jump. Bucky's burning blue eyes turn soft as he falls, face down, onto the ground. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it all seems so...simple.

You move towards his body and poke it with your foot. The man who shot Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Gotta make sure he's dead," you explain. "The monster always comes back," you add before spitting on the corpse. The man's eyes soften as he nods. He might not understand, but he sees you've been through a lot.

"How did you find out about the town?" you ask as you turn back to Harald.

"They hired O'Malley, the most unscrupulous person in the state, to find Rogers' girl. We just had to give him some money and he told us where Rogers had gone."

"What took you so long to get here?"

"We ran into interference from the feds that'll be showing up tomorrow to finish up the work."

"The feds let you come in first?"

Harald grins, "officially we're contracted to weaken the enemy's defenses to make things safer for the federal officers." You nod as his words sink in. "Do yourself a favor, lass. Tomorrow, you take yourself and Rogers' girl to one Agent Nick Fowler. He'll get the two of you looked after."

"Can you give me a ride to Bunny's?" As much as you know you're going to need the company, you're sure she could use it too.

"Of course."

You and Bunny spend the night crying into each other's arms. Finally letting loose all the emotions that had to be kept pent up for safety's sake. She confirms Steve was taken out in an ambush while he was putting together the crib. Her sobs grow stronger as she feels so torn about being so happy for his death. You hold her tight and assure her you're feeling the same about Bucky. Less so than her because, at one time, she did genuinely love Steve and want a baby with him. But she needs to feel she's not alone.

Sure enough, the morning brings with a raid from the FBI. You and Bunny keep your heads down until things get quiet again. That's when you take her by the hand and go looking for Agent Fowler. You're not sure what all he can actually do for the two of you. Maybe he can start by setting you both up with a good therapist.

You finally find him and he takes the two of you to a quieter area. You explain everything as he takes notes, asks questions. It's strange, but you find yourself trusting him. He's not talking down to either of you. There's no judgment in his eyes for anything either of you confess.

When you're done, Nick sighs. "He didn't send you to me to help you get your lives back, I'm afraid." He gives you both a genuinely sad look. "You were both privy to something that's been classified. I'll be helping you get new lives."

Bunny starts sobbing into your shoulder as the tears flow from your eyes. Those monsters truly took everything from you.

"I'm sure the town won't mind seeing us gone," you mumble.

Nick stays silent but he can't disagree. From what he's picked up, a lot of the townsfolk will be angry with the two of you for a very long time. He hates that they're blaming people who are obviously victims. He knows he can find you ladies something better.

"Would you like to relocate together or separately?"

"Together," you and Bunny say in unison. Both of you know the importance of having someone around who understands.

Fowler takes note. "I'll make sure it happens."

"What do we do in the meantime?" your voice quavers as you ask.

"We'll have the two of you set up in a hotel and schedule some medical visits," he explains. "We'll also have psychiatric evaluations to assess your needs in that capacity. In the meantime, you'll be in the very capable hands of agent Romanoff. She'll take good care of you."

As Romanoff takes you away to the hotel Nick looks over his notes. He'll make sure to assign Jensen to the case, covering the women's digital footprint and online safety. Part of him wants to assign himself to your protection. His heart is breaking for both women involved, but he also finds himself in admiration of you, specifically. You're a smart one. But he has to give time and space to let you heal first. Maybe he'll assign Everett instead. At least for now.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[neverthatsirius-jo]

november recs <3

— bucky barnes.

cold libraries create warmer hearts by @elvenrin

↳ fic a bit on the longer side (which i love <3) writing this is reminding me that part two is already up and i haven’t read it yet. librarian!reader x history major!bucky. cute, cute fic and steve’s and natasha’s appearances are the best ofc

— james potter.

unrequited, terrifying series by @aurynsia

↳ only read the first two chapters but i really wanna continue the series since it was a really sweet secret admirer!james fic <3

sunlight by @sun-kissy

↳ love a good friend to lovers confession moment and who better to execute that than san?? perfection <33

overheard that she was nineteen by @g1rld1ary

↳ this is for the people that somehow end up crying on every birthday. comfort fic <3

our names in the paper by @g1rld1ary

↳ do yourself a favour and read this, and then go on gia’s blog and read everything she writes cause she’s just that amazing, yk. 10k words of early 2000s romcom vibes and the best dialogues ever. witty and will have you giggling and kicking your feet.

i hate you series by @dreamingofmarauders

↳ haven’t read all of it but cute enemies to lovers james x reader <3

epiphanies over hotpot by @foodiegoogie

↳ loveliest fic written by none other than my twin rese! :D (established relationship <3)

— joel miller.

clay pigeons by @siriuslylantsov

↳ lovely fic, written by a lovely person. hadn’t read any joel fics in a while and him in this one is just 🤌

— matt murdock.

staring right through me by @elixirfromthestars

↳ went through a matt phase and this fic was perfect. go give mel’s blog a look especially if you like reading bucky fics!! <3

— remus lupin.

untitled by @iamgonnagetyouback

↳ honestly this was a very sweet fic and it stole more than a couple smiles from me <33

untitled by @siriuslylantsov

↳ will leave you wanting to take care of remus after a full moon. lovely <33

— sirius black.

bags series by @777heavengirl

↳ so silly of you if you like sirius black and you haven’t read this series yet!! friends to lovers, what more can you ask for? writing is top notch too <3

haircare routine by @siriuslylantsov

↳ pretty sure this was the first fic i read from ace and it had me GIGGLING. cutest thing <3

— spencer reid.

olive theory by @siriuslylantsov

↳ cute little short blurb <3

september rain by @parfaitblogs

↳ has there ever been or is there ever gonna be a jo’s recs without lia on it? well, probably not. cute comfort fic about spencer comforting reader when there’s a storm.

making the bed by @parfaitblogs

↳ another comfort fic with lia’s gorgeous writing <3

kissing in the rain by @catssluvr

↳ cutest fic about well... what the title says. it will leave you with the unquenchable need to dance with spencer under the rain.

slow it down by @reidmania

↳ this fic was the comfort i needed back in november at the stage i was 😭. 100% recomend, the writing is beautiful.

untitled by @parfaitblogs

↳ for some reason it took me the longest while to finally read this fic. forensic scientist!reader and a great fic, but again, read all of lia’s works. or else.

north star by @parfaitblogs

↳ comforting spencer after a nightmare fic <3

state of grace by @parfaitblogs

↳ genuinely loved this one so much. friends with benefits and a bit of avoidant!reader. lia, i love your dialogues. i think i’ve said that a thousand times <3

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