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peaches1958 · 2 days ago

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Such bittersweet little story

Desperate | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hello hello hello! I’ve got some good, old-fashioned angst here for ya.

Word Count: 8.4k

Warnings: hella angst. Touch starved Bucky and reader. Some slight NSFW vibes, but nothing graphic.

Bucky didn’t seem to notice when you told him you had to step away for a moment. He remained focused on his clean up duties in the kitchen; he didn’t raise his head or look your way. In fact, he didn’t seem to be noticing you much at all, lately. But as you eyed your ensemble in the full-length mirror in your bedroom, you knew you’d win back his attention.

This was his absolute favorite lingerie of yours. The set that made him so feral, drove him so insane with lust, that he’d broken the headboard last time you wore it. After that, the two of you agreed you’d save it for special occasions only; otherwise, the apartment you shared would need to be entirely refurnished. And though tonight was just a normal, run of the mill Friday night, you needed to pull out the big guns.

The black leather bustier- the one that made Bucky destroy furniture- hugged your figure perfectly. It’s plunging V-neck ended just above your navel. And the lacy details perfectly mirrored the cheeky black underwear Bucky gifted you last Valentine’s Day. A matching garter belt was the piece de resistance, and it held in place the thigh high stockings that drove Bucky wild.

You gave yourself one final look before slipping on a pair of black stilettos and stalking out of the room. This was it- the perfect formula for recapturing Bucky’s gaze.

He’d been distant lately. Almost cold. He hadn’t touched you- in even the most innocent sense- in nineteen days. It had been even longer since you were last able to steal a kiss. And the two of you hadn’t had sex in three weeks, which was unheard of.

Usually, Bucky gave his physical affections freely. He loved touching you, kissing you, holding you. He wanted to play with your hair, hold your hand, kiss your forehead- anything- as long as it meant he got to touch you. To feel you. When he had a rough day, your arms provided him with safety and comfort. And when a mission stole you from his side, your lips welcomed him home. He poured his love for you into every touch, leaving his fingerprints all over your soul.

To him, any moment spent without your skin pressed against his was a moment wasted.

And your sex life was mind-blowing, to say the least. Bucky’s stamina and eagerness to please you left you breathless and seeing stars almost every night of the week. After a few rounds with him, you found yourself unable to speak, unable to think. The only thing that had the power to permeate your hazy, lust-filled mind was him. Your hunger, your need for him could never be sated, and fucking him only made you want him more. But he was more than happy to give himself over to you. He could pull two or seven orgasms from you before you even knew what hit you. And that was just his warmup.

But the last three weeks had been completely void of any debauchery. Bucky didn’t slip into your shower or slide his hand up your skirt. He didn’t even grab your ass when you walked by wearing leggings. It was a startling difference that filled the apartment with a biting, bitter cold, chilling you to the bone. But Bucky said- he swore- he was fine. That he was just tired. Or stressed. Or busy with work. And while you knew his work-life was intense, it never before stopped him from jumping at the chance to make you scream.

And it wasn’t just the lack of erotic touches that gnawed at you. It was the loss of all physical affections. He didn’t reach for your hand in the store. Didn’t pull you into his chest at night. Didn’t kiss you goodbye in the morning. It left you agonized. Miserable. Empty.

Every day, you wondered what could’ve possibly caused Bucky to pull away. What could make him withdraw from you so suddenly. Worry ate away at you, slowly devouring you whole. He seemed to work late almost every night these past few weeks. And when he was home, your attempts to talk to him about the issue went nowhere.

You thought he’d gotten past his urge to hide his troubles from you. It took time, but he learned to be honest. To communicate. And when you were finally confident that he’d stopped hiding his struggles, you learned to stop reading into his every mannerism. His every muscle twitch. His every vocal change. If he said he was okay, he was okay. And after working together- he trusted you to listen, and you trusted him to tell you the truth.

And over the last few weeks, he did, indeed, say that he was okay. That there was nothing lurking beneath his surface. And so, you did as he asked, and you believed him.

But after three weeks of nothing- no roaming hands, no bite marks, no early morning quickies- you were hungry for him. Aching for him. You feared that your bottled-up lust would actually drive you crazy. And so, you decided reach for your secret weapon.

You found Bucky right where you’d left him: leaning over the kitchen sink, taking care of the dishes from dinner.

You kept your tone light, innocent, casual. “Hey, Buck.”

“Hey, baby.” He didn’t look up.

“Um, do you think you could help me with something real quick, Sergeant?” Sergeant. It was devious. Wicked, really. The sound of his title coming out of your mouth always got his heart racing, always made the blood drain from his brain and travel elsewhere.

But he didn’t fall for it.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just give me one second, I’m-” Finally, he looked up.

His words died in throat, his mind went blank. The pan he’d been scrubbing fell into the sink with a loud crash. Want filled his eyes. He could’ve sworn his mouth started watering.

“What do you think, Sarge? You wanna come over here and,” you ran a few fingers up your thigh, “help me out?”

You braced yourself, knowing Bucky was about to pounce. You figured you had less than five seconds before he swept you off your feet and hoisted up over his shoulder. He’d fireman-carried you to bed that way more times than you could count, and you knew this would be one of those nights.

But five seconds became ten. And then fifteen. And then twenty. And all he’d done was stare at you.

“Buck?” you took a few steps in his direction. “I thought we could have some dessert.”

He struggled to form coherent thoughts or piece sentences together. “Um, well, I was-” he gestured to the mess in the sink, “I was gonna do the dishes.”

“I know, baby,” you placed a light hand on his shoulder. “But I think you can finish them after- I mean, later.”

Bucky should’ve jumped at the opportunity. He should’ve taken you apart right there on the kitchen counter. But he didn’t. He didn’t even touch you.

He cleared his throat, “I’m- I’m just gonna do ‘em now.”

Without a word, you turned on your stiletto and retreated to the bedroom.

Humiliation flared in your chest. Tears gathered in your eyes. And your heartbeat pounded in your ears, drowning out the rest of the world. Suddenly, you felt stupid. Foolish. Part of you wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment.

Bucky had every right to refuse your advances- that wasn’t the issue. It was his complete and utter lack of affection for you. If he didn’t want to have sex with you ever again, you’d (probably) survive. But the harsh and sudden halt of any and all physical affection was eating you alive.

You kicked off your heels the moment you entered the bedroom and found yourself stomping toward the bathroom. You needed to get away. To hide. To protect yourself from any further mortification. The bathroom door slammed shut behind you, and you leaned against the cool wood, hoping to find some peace. But the bathroom mirror only doubled your shame. And as you stared at yourself, clad in what you thought to be Bucky’s favorite lingerie, your breathing hitched in your chest.

This whole venture was so idiotic. So thoroughly and excruciatingly mortifying. It felt like the final nail in the coffin. If Bucky didn’t want you in your best lingerie, he must not want you at all.

The hoodie you’d slipped out of only minutes ago sat crumpled in a pile on the counter, and eagerly you shimmied into it. Anything to cover up your failed attempt at seduction.

What was wrong with Bucky? Was he not interested in you anymore? Did he find you unattractive? If he wasn’t seeking sex with you, he had to be getting it from someone else, didn’t he? Who was it? Who-

A gentle knock yanked you out of your spiral.

“Sweetheart…” Bucky called through the door. He tried the handle and found it locked. “Can you come out, baby? Please?”

No part of you wanted to leave the safety of the bathroom. Something deep within you feared that this would be it- the tipping point, the moment of truth. If you did as Bucky asked and ventured out of the bathroom, there was a chance that Bucky would drop some major, soul-crushing truth on you.

Maybe he’d spent the last three weeks trying to figure out how to break up with you, and this was his perfect opportunity. Maybe he’d break your heart and ruin your life the second you opened the bathroom door. If you could just stay in here- forever- maybe he wouldn’t dump you. Maybe you could delay your heartbreak and extend whatever feelings he once had for you, just for a little while.

But if he didn’t want you anymore, what was the point of prolonging the inevitable?

With a huff, you dabbed at your eyes with your sleeve and opened the door.

There stood Bucky, looking hopeless. Lost. Miserable. He was propped against the door frame with slumped shoulders and a downtrodden expression- but perked up a bit when you opened the door. A sad smile stretched across his face, and he stood up straight, but his frown returned as you brushed right past him.

“Baby, can we please talk about this?” He almost begged.

There was a heavy desperation in his voice. Panic blazed through his chest. Something told him he might be losing you.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you!” You removed your garter belt and slipped off one of your stockings. “I’ve been trying to talk to you about this for weeks! And you just keep saying you’re 'fine'. Or that you’re tired. Or that there’s 'nothing to talk about'- when there clearly is!”

Normally, Bucky could always make you feel better with a hug. Anytime the two of you got into a fight, a long, warm embrace helped ease both of you into open, honest communication. But Bucky didn't reach for you. He opted to keep his distance. To allow you some space.

But space was the last thing you wanted.

“Look, if there’s something going on and you’re not interested in having sex, that’s fine,” you told him. “I get it. It happens sometimes. But the-” you yanked your other thigh high off and tossed it to the side. “The total embargo on physical touch is really fucking with my head.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears, your hands shook with wrath. “Buck, you’re never home anymore- you’re always ‘working late’.” You let out a sharp exhale, “and when you are home, it’s like you’re on another planet. You keep your distance from me- you won’t even sit next to me on the couch.”

All Bucky could do was nod. Everything you said was true; there wasn’t a point in arguing.

And as the weight of Bucky’s sudden frigidity finally hit you, your fury was snuffed out. Rage no longer pulsed through your veins with each beat of your heart. Grief took its place. It forced its way into your heart, into your bones. You could’ve sworn you felt fractures spider-webbing their way through your ribs.

Tears trickled slowly down your cheeks at first, but a downpour followed soon after. “Are you- are you not attracted to me anymore?” You asked between heaving sobs. “Do you not want me? Did I do something?”

“Sweetheart, I-”

“Is there…” your voice cracked. Saying it was too much; part of you feared that vocalizing your fear would make it come true. As though another woman would materialize simply because you asked whether she existed. “Is there someone else?”

The question sucked all of the oxygen out of the room. Bucky stared at you with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape. You did your best to get a handle on your shaky breaths and pained wails; if Bucky was about to reveal an affair, you didn’t want to seem so broken. So hopeless. So pathetic. You didn’t want to give him any ammo to take back to his side piece. Any dramatic tales that would make her howl with laughter.

But he didn’t admit to having a mistress. He, instead, let loose a few tears himself. Knowing that he’d made you question his loyalties, that you’d actually feared he’d been unfaithful, made him want to die.

“Oh my god,” His voice wavered under the hefty weight of his pain,“Baby-”

“Is there someone better?”

“No.” He couldn’t fathom the suggestion that there was someone- anyone- out there better than you. “There is no one better.”

He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to be near you. In three quick strides, he arrived in your vicinity. But he remained just out of your reach. Everything in him begged - screamed- to hold you close. To kiss you. To take your hand, at the very least. His fingers twitched with the need to touch you. But he refrained.

“There’s no one else- of course, there’s not. There will never be anyone else. I still want you, I will always want you. I love you.”

The overwhelming urge to remove himself from your space barked at him. It screamed and hollered from the deep recesses of his mind. And he knew he should listen. But he couldn’t- not when you were falling apart in front of him. Not when he’d made you feel unwanted, unattractive, and unloved.

“You didn’t do anything, doll,” he hated himself for doing this to you. For making you doubt his love. For reducing you to a sobbing, heaving shell of yourself. “I’m still attracted to you- I’m so attracted to you. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

His reassurances helped assuage some of the fear, some of the worry. But only a small portion. Because even though he’d refuted all of your hypotheses and accusations, he still hadn’t given you a reason. And he still hadn’t touched you.

“Then what’s-” you forced yourself to take a moment to think. To breathe. To get your head on straight. “What’s the problem? What’s going on with you?”

Bucky didn’t answer. He didn’t make eye contact. He simply stared at the area rug, tracing its border with his eyes. And though he knew you needed his touch, needed his affection, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Couldn’t bring himself to slip his hand into yours or cradle your face in his hands.

His silence sliced through you and tore you open. You could’ve sworn you were bleeding out.

“Buck, I miss you-” It was needy. Ugly. But you didn’t care. “Please, just be honest with me. I’m worried about you. And this isn’t normal for us, so-”

His words came out so low, so hushed, that you struggled to hear him. “I just haven’t been able to shake what happened last time.”

He clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut. He gave a small shake of his head. His hands balled into tight fists. He’d thought about what happened over and over and over again. He thought about it every day for the last three weeks. Relived the panic, the fear. And every night when he tried to fall asleep, the scene played out on an endless loop inside his mind. Horrifying nightmares plagued him each time he closed his eyes. He woke up shaking, covered in a cold sweat. There was no escaping it.

---Three weeks ago---

Things started around 8pm. It was all innocent enough, with Bucky spooning you as the two of you rewatched New Girl. But Bucky let his hands roam, as he so often did. And after only one episode, his hand had snaked up your shirt. His warm palm rested against your breast as his fingers swept over your skin. He teased your nipple once, twice. It was all the motivation you needed.

At his prompting, you pushed your body back against his, allowing your ass to grind against him. A low, animalistic moan vibrated deep within his chest. All bets were off after that.

Before you could even blink, Bucky had you in his arms. He palmed your ass and positioned your legs around his waist as he set off down the hall toward the bedroom. His lips hungrily devoured yours. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on the strands every now and again. He let more depraved sounds loose and you happily swallowed them all.

Time lost all meaning after Bucky laid you out on the bed. The world outside of your bedroom ceased to exist- only Bucky remained. The two of you were a frantic, needy tangle of pounding hearts and sweat-slick skin. Teeth marks adorned his chest. Scratches adorned his back and shoulders. And Bucky devoted all of his time, all of his energy, all of him to pleasing you.

He took his time, slowly working you over as though it were his job. He loved teasing you, love watching you squirm. And when he had you absolutely begging, he gave you exactly what you wanted. In fact, he kept giving it to you- and had no intention to stop.

He’d lost track of time. Lost count of how many times he made you come. All he knew was that double digits had been reached- and that was a long time ago. Was it an hour ago? Or three? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he had his best girl falling apart at the seams. Over and over and over again.

He made sure to check in with you after every bout of world-shattering ecstasy, and you always gave him the green light. As time passed, your sentences turned into solitary words, which devolved into incoherent, needy sounds. But you always gave him a fervent nod, ensuring that you absolutely wanted- needed- him to continue.

Even as sweat dampened the hair around your face, even as your lips grew swollen- you wanted more. More Bucky- there was never enough of him. It didn’t matter that he’d carried you to bed hours ago, you were insatiable. If he fucked you for a full twenty-four hours, it still wouldn’t have been enough.

At one point, you ended up in his lap, riding him like your life depended on it. He was seated upright on the edge of the bed, his chest pressed to yours. And by the depraved sounds and shaky breaths that fell from your lips, he knew you were close to yet another heart-stopping moment of bliss. His right arm snaked around your back, holding you firmly in place. He forced his vibranium fist down into the mattress; it gave him the extra leverage he needed to fuck into you even deeper. To push you over the edge.

With a strangled scream, your orgasm crested over you. Your eyes squeezed shut. Sharp inhales filled your chest. Your mouth hung open. Every muscle in your body went rigid. Tense. Slight tremors rocked you every few moments- it was exactly what Bucky wanted.

“Oh, that’s my girl,” praises dripped from his lips like honey. A debauched moan vibrated out of his chest. “So good for me, always so good for me, baby.”

He watched as your eyes rolled back in your head. And with a final exhale, your limp body slumped forward, your face landing against Bucky’s chest. He put his movements on pause and allowed you to recover. To catch your breath. To rest.

He smoothed his cold, metallic hand up and down your spine. “You doing okay, sweetheart? You tired?” He dotted a kiss to your hair, “We can call it a night.”

You didn’t say a word.

“Baby,” he scratched gently at your shoulder blade. “Can you answer me?”

But you remained silent.

Concern coursed through his veins. He feared he’d gone too far. That he’d pushed you past your limits. And if you were upset, he needed to do whatever he could to help you through. As gently as he could, he used both of his hands to lift your head from his chest.

What he found sent a wave of chills rushing over his skin.

You were out cold. Completely unconscious.

Bucky found himself operating on autopilot. He removed you from his lap and laid you flat on the bed. His fingers searched your neck for a pulse. Your name fell from his lips in a horrified, desperate prayer.

A breakdown loomed on the horizon, darkening everything around him. His hands shook, his chest tightened. The copper-penny taste of blood exploded across his tongue as he sunk his teeth into his cheek. But he couldn’t fall apart- not when your life depended on it.

And massive sigh of relief left his chest when he felt your strong, steady pulse beating beneath his fingertips.

And once he knew that you were, indeed, alive, he allowed himself to fall apart- but only for a moment. Tears dripped down his face and splashed against your chest as he loomed over you. He breathlessly told you he was sorry. That he loved you. That he didn’t mean to hurt you.

But that was all he permitted. You still needed him, even if you weren’t in dire straits. And so, he forced his emotion behind a wall and pressed on.

No part of him wanted to leave your side, but it was a necessary evil. He sped through the apartment and into the kitchen, digging in the freezer for ice packs. And when he found the two you required, he snagged a couple dish towels from the drawer by the sink and raced back to the bedroom.

“Hey, I’m- I’m back, baby,” he said to your unconscious body. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I just had to get-” he held up the icepacks. Even if you couldn’t hear him, he wanted you to know that he’d never- under any circumstances- abandon you when you needed him.

He wrapped each ice pack in a towel and tucked one behind your neck while the other rested on your chest. And then, all he could do was wait.

He hovered over you, watching for any signs of waking, any signs of distress. His hands smoothed over your hair and drifted across your cheek. His fingers monitored your pulse every few seconds. His lips left kisses against your forehead. And though he knew that your life wasn’t in danger, it didn’t quell the shaking in his hands. Didn’t stop the waves of nausea cresting over him.

And he didn’t take a full inhale until your eyelids finally began to flutter open.

He watched closely as you finally blinked your way back into consciousness. Everything was kind of fuzzy, a bit hazy around the edges. A quiet ringing filled your ears. A slight tremor rendered your hands unsteady. And the world around you seemed to tilt and twist without warning.

But Bucky was right there, anchoring you to the earth. He let a gentle hand rest against your cheek.

“Hi, baby,” his voice was soft, sweet, comforting.

But you couldn’t respond even if you wanted to, as your synapses refused to get their shit together. Words collided and melted together, dripping into amorphous puddles inside your mind. You swore someone had stuffed your head full of cotton. Everything felt far away; the entire world was muffled somehow, as though you were trapped behind fifty feet of glass.

Concern bled into Bucky’s words, “Sweetheart, are you alright?”

And it wasn’t easy, but you finally remembered how to think. How to speak. You chipped away at the thick pane of glass separating you from Bucky, and finally answered.

“’m okay…” You reached for Bucky’s face and allowed your fingers to gently trace down his jawline. His stubble pricked at your skin. His warm breath fanned your face.

And without warning, tears slipped from your eyes. Rivulets coursed down the sides of your face and dripped into your hair. It was a sudden, jarring shift that sent Bucky’s heart leaping into his throat.

“Oh, no- oh, sweetheart,” he gently cradled your face in his hands. “Baby, you’re okay- everything’s okay. You’re fine. You’re safe.”

He did everything in his power to bring you some sense of peace, but the tears refused to stop. And he found himself desperately, hopelessly, trying to comfort you. He tripped over himself again and again, apologizing endlessly. And when that didn’t work, he changed tactics. He spelled out what happened for you in clear, easy to understand terms, ridding you of the dreaded unknown. He promised that you were only out for a minute or two. That you were perfectly safe.

He left gentle touches against your skin and dotted kisses to your cheeks and hairline- just like you always did for him when he fell to pieces. And if it worked for him, he hoped it might work for you.

He wasn’t sure what brought an end to your waterworks- his reassurances or his touch- but he didn’t care. All that mattered was that you’d finally stopped crying. That your breathing was returning to normal. The sharp pain radiating through his chest dulled a little bit as he dried your last few tears. Finally, your hands stopped trembling. And your heartrate slowly regressed to its mean. He thanked a startling number of deities that you were alive and seemed to be improving.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “How do you feel, baby? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Um…” you dried your damp lashes on the backs of your hands. “I’m cold.”

“Shit- sorry,” Bucky snatched your icepacks from their respective positions and threw them to the floor.

Guilt bloomed in his chest; he should’ve removed the ice the second you woke up. Should’ve covered you with a blanket. Should’ve used his body to keep yours warm. Should’ve-

He didn’t have time to spiral into guilt and shame and ‘should haves’.

He leaned over the side of the bed and located his discarded hoodie, the one you’d yanked over his head only a few hours ago in your insatiable pursuit of his body.

“Hey, here you go, doll,” he gently helped you wriggle into the soft fabric and covered you with the bedspread. And once he was confident that you were comfortable, he slid under the blanket with you and vowed to give you all of his body heat.

The second he laid down next to you, you rolled onto your side and buried your face in his chest. He curled his body protectively around yours; he wasn’t going to let anything else happen to you tonight. Or ever. His hand swept up and down the length of your spine on a seemingly endless loop. He whispered ‘I love yous’ and “I’m sorrys” until he thought he might go hoarse.

And when your world fell properly into place and you finally felt like yourself again, you plucked your head from his chest.

“Hi,” you reached upward and let your fingers slowly drift across his cheek bones. The slope of his nose. His lips.

“Hi, baby.” He couldn’t fight the smile that pulled at his features. This was the version of you he knew. The version that, only a few minutes ago, hungrily egged him on in his pursuit of your pleasure. “You doing okay?”

You gave him a confident nod, “Yeah, I’m okay now.” Your lips drifted across his, “Sorry, it kinda took me a minute to come back to myself, you know?”

“That’s okay, doll,” he let he tips of his fingers ghost over your spine. “Don’t apologize.”

“And I really didn’t mean for there to be any,” you gave Bucky some unenthusiastic jazz hands, “any theatrics tonight. Sorry about the drama.”

Bucky gave a shake of his head, “No, baby, it’s okay. I’m…” he traced your features with his cold, gentle fingers. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine,” you shrugged. “It was weird though, right? This has never happened to me before- I’ve never passed out during sex.” You gazed at him with a spark of lust in your eyes, “You know, I’m actually impressed. You made me come so many times that I actually blacked out. None of my ex-boyfriends can say that.”

You let out a quiet laugh that Bucky didn’t return. He didn’t find it funny- he didn’t find any of this funny. But he put on a smile for your benefit.

“Oh, and sorry about all the crying,” you sighed. “I don’t know what that was about.”

“That’s alright- it happens,” he shrugged. “You went from really high highs and then fell to some pretty low lows. It’s just got to do with the chemicals in your brain, nothing to apologize for.” He trailed kisses across your forehead and down your nose, “Plus, you were probably scared. Or freaked out, at least.”

The guilt sunk its teeth into every fiber of Bucky’s being. And as you nestled closer to him, a tidal wave of revulsion nearly dragged him from the bed. He should’ve known better. Should’ve exercised better judgment. You weren’t like him; you didn’t have the enhanced energy and stamina to match his. He shouldn’t have pushed you to the edge like that. Shouldn’t have carried you past your limits.

Normally, he’d do anything to be near you. He wanted- needed- to touch you as much as possible. And if he couldn’t touch you, he at least had to be close to you. But the voice in his head screamed at him, telling him to vacate your vicinity. And the overwhelming, urgent need to put some space between his body and yours yanked him out of bed.

“Baby, I’m gonna go get you some water, okay? And a snack,” he headed for the door, “you stay there, I’ll be right back.”

It was the perfect excuse. He really did need to provide you with sustenance and hydration after your black out- but a trip to the kitchen also provided him with a reason to remove himself from your side. He counted it as a win-win.

And from that moment on, he did his best- his very best- to keep his hands off of you. To stay as far away as possible. To ensure that you would be safe.

He couldn’t risk your well-being, not again.

------

It wasn’t quite what you expected him to say. And though it was a far better reason than the affair you concocted for him during your downward spiral, it still didn’t make much sense.

“Last time?”

What exactly happened last time? You wracked your brain, searching your memories for some terrible event- but you came up empty. And just as you were about to call bullshit on Bucky’s reasoning, you stumbled upon the memory of your innocuous, minute-long black out.

“Oh, the thing with me passing out?”

Bucky gave a solemn nod. At the thought of it, his face lost all color, all warmth. A sickly shade of gray tainted his skin.

“Buck, I know that was kind of weird and not at all ideal, but it was fine,” you shrugged, “It wasn’t a big deal.”

You took a cautious step toward him, and much to your dismay, he countered with a step back.

“If anything, it was a fluke.” Again, you took a step in his direction. And again, he backed away.

Bucky feared what might happen when you backed him into a corner, when his spine hit the wall. He knew he’d have to slip from your grasp and vacate the room. That he’d have to find an escape. But he knew it would hurt you. After weeks of no warmth, no touching, no physical intimacy, you were barely hanging on by a thread. And if he ran from the room, it would surely cause that thread to snap. But wasn’t that better than the snapping of your neck? Or your spine? Wasn’t it better for you to hurt emotionally, rather than physically?

“Buck, it’s never happened before, and I highly doubt it will ever happen again,” you said. “I didn’t sleep well the night before, and I had a long day leading up to that. I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch, I was dehydrated, and I’d been sick the week prior. It was a perfect storm of circumstances that made me pass out. Not you.”

You intertwined your fingers, locking them together in search of any kind of touch. Any physical reassurance. “Seriously, Buck, that will never happen again. I promise.”

Bucky knew of one surefire way to ensure it would never, ever happen again. All he had to do was keep his distance. If he could refrain from touching you, if he could keep his hands to himself, you’d be safe.

But you’d be miserable- he knew you would. And as he gave you a long once-over, a sharp pain shot through him like lightning. Tear tracks trailed down your cheeks. Your eyes were red and puffy. Dark circles stained your under eyes- you hadn’t been sleeping, had you? No, you’d been staying up all night, worrying about Bucky. About the state of your relationship.

And when he noticed the way you’d tangled your hands together, the way your right thumb stroked against the back of your left hand, he could’ve sworn he’d been stabbed through the chest. You were so desperate for affection, so robbed of touch, that you were trying- and failing- to self-soothe.

“I know it was scary for you,” he finally said. “And I know you’re the one who passed out, so I’m not trying to make this about me- I swear. But it was…” He, too, found himself absentmindedly searching for physical comforts. He slowly raked a hand through his hair a few times, but it didn’t have the same effect; only your hands could bring him peace. “It was scary for me, too.”

A pang of anxiety rocketed through you. How could you have been so selfish? So heartless toward Bucky’s plight? Of course, he’d been scared. Of course, the events of that night affected him, too. And you knew that if the situation were reversed, you would’ve been paralyzed with fear. With worry.

You’d just gotten so swept up, so overwhelmed by the loss of his hands. His lips. His arms. It darkened your periphery and gave you tunnel-vision. All you could see- all you could feel- was the cold. The emptiness. The fear of losing him.

“Shit, baby, I’m-” you reached for Bucky but recoiled. “I’m so sorry. You just- you said you were fine. Every time I asked, you swore everything was okay. So I thought-”

“I know…” Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek. He let his head droop, allowed his gaze to drop to the floor. And he stayed that way. For a while.

His hands dug deep into his pockets and his shoulders fell forward ever so slightly. He found himself awash in regret. Longing. Loneliness. He knew it was his fault; he’d done this to himself. He’d chosen to isolate, to pull away. But it was the safest option for you, wasn’t it? And your safety came before anything and everything else- full stop.

“It took me a long time,” he finally said, “it took me a long time to be able to touch you. I couldn’t bring myself to do it for…” He silently thought back on that time, adding up the days where he kept his hands to himself- but they were far too numerous. “For a while. Do you remember that?”

You nodded. “Yeah, but I- I guess I always figured it was just some old-fashioned, chivalrous, nineteen-forties type of thing…”

“Well, that was,” a small smile flickered across his face, “that was part of it. But the real reason is that I was too scared. To touch you, I mean.” His smile disappeared. His features suddenly fell. His eyes darkened. “Sometimes, I don’t know my own strength, you know? And I was too- I was so afraid that I’d hurt you, baby.”

“Oh…” You hadn’t thought of it that way.

“I had to kind of overcome that fear, and it took time. I think it took me over a month just to hold your hand- and even then, it was only for a second.”

Bucky’s words had an endless darkness to them- a darkness you were well acquainted with by now. When he was really down, when he was going through a particularly miserable time, his voice took on the pitch-black tone of the abyss. And when he found himself drowning in the obsidian sea, it was your hands that guided him out. You’d hold him close to your body, wrapping him in the safety of your embrace- and slowly, he’d wade out of his agony.

But this time was different.

No matter desperately you longed to touch him, to comfort him, to save him- you couldn’t. He didn’t want your hands, your body anywhere near him. Of course, he did want you close- he just wouldn’t allow it.

“But you know I’ve never been afraid of you, right?” Your arm twitched with want. Almost on autopilot, your hand tried to reach out and touch him, but you forbade it. “I’ve never thought that you’d hurt me-”

“I know.” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. You never saw him as a monster or a threat- you never saw him the way he saw himself. “But when we first started dating, I was having these nightmares. I actually had them for the first year of our relationship- at the least…”

Your heart sank. He had enough nightmares as it was; and to know that you’d somehow delivered him a fresh crop of terror made you nauseous.

“Every night when I went to sleep, I’d have these awful dreams…” His eyes took on a hollow quality as he hurdled backward and fell into his memories. “They always started out okay- they seemed like normal dreams. In some of them, we were hugging. In others, we were having sex. And everything was fine. But then, you’d start-” He dragged a few fingers across his bottom lip and down his chin, “you’d start bleeding out of your mouth. Your eyes would roll back in your head. And you’d collapse. You’d die in my arms. Every time.”

A small gasp filled your lungs, “Buck…” It was your most basic, most intrinsic instinct to comfort Bucky with soft, gentle touches. Your hands were his homing signal, and when he got lost in the dark labyrinth of his past, you automatically guided him to safety. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever caged that reflex- until now. He stood in front of you, completely despondent, and you couldn’t do a damn thing to help him.

“And the other night- it was exactly like one of my nightmares. You went completely limp, baby, and your eyes rolled back in your head. You were unresponsive. I was so scared, I…” He almost didn’t want to say the words. Didn’t want to tempt the universe by voicing his greatest fear. “I thought I killed you. I thought I’d held you too tight and crushed your spine, or something. I had to-” He cleared his throat, forcing the oncoming emotion away, “I actually had to feel for a pulse to make sure you were still alive.”

“Baby, I- I didn’t know that.” He’d conveniently left that out when he walked you through what happened. He’d sidestepped his horror and his trauma and put you first, as he always did. “But you’d never hurt me- you couldn’t.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not on purpose. But I thought I’d gone too far in the heat of the moment, and…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. “Even though you didn’t pass out because of me, I’m still- I can’t get over it. I can’t stop thinking about it. It was like one of my nightmares had come to life- it hit way too close to home.” He pressed his palms to his eyes for a moment and forced himself to catch his breath. Only when he felt his heartrate return to normal did he speak again. “So, I’ve been scared- too scared to touch you.”

It shattered you. All Bucky did- all he’d ever wanted to do- was protect you. And though he’d spent the last three weeks aching for his best girl, he didn’t dare lay a finger on you- all in the name of your safety. Sure, his execution wasn’t the best, but his intentions were pure and kind, as they always were.

“But I know I didn’t… I didn��t handle this the right way. And I’m sorry- I’m so sorry I pulled away,” he tripped over himself again and again, desperately begging for your understanding. For your forgiveness. “I know you’re not happy- believe me, I’m not happy either. I’ve been miserable this whole time- I miss you so much, sweetheart. And I never wanted to hurt you like this. I just didn’t…” He gave a small shake of his head, “I didn’t want to hurt you physically, either. And I didn’t know what to do. So, I figured that keeping my hands off of you was safest. But I didn’t mean to upset you.”

All the work he’d done, all the effort he’d put into fixing his self-image had crumbled in one fell swoop- all because you didn’t have the wherewithal to eat breakfast and stay hydrated three weeks ago. Bucky’s normally upright posture was sloped, his shoulders curved forward. He had the same hollow look in his eye that he had when you’d first met him. And now that he’d spent more than five minutes with you, you noticed all of the fingernails on his right hand were bitten down to the quick.

“Shit. Buck, I’m- I’m so sorry, baby.” You dried your cheeks on the sleeve of your hoodie. “I fucked up…”

“No, no. This is all on me- I fucked up. I basically abandoned you.” His voice took on a harsh, sharp edge he only ever reserved for use against himself. You knew the inside of his head was a horror scene, full of admonishing comments and self-flagellation. You wished you could rescue him from his own mind.

But his tone softened when he spoke about you, “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart-”

“Buck, I accused you of cheating,” you nearly scoffed. It was ridiculous. Completely absurd. That you believed for even a moment that Bucky could actually have a mistress proved just how out of your mind you were. But grief, you figured, was capable of making people believe crazy things. “That was absolutely wrong of me. And I didn’t even-” you shook your head. “I didn’t even think that the other night might have affected you-”

“You were upset, and rightfully so.” He absolved you of any blame, any guilt. “Plus, you were the one who blacked out, not me. My feelings on the subject aren’t nearly as important as yours.”

“But you witnessed it. And it scared you. A lot.” You hated knowing that he’d been too horrified, too paralyzed with fear to even hold your hand. And the fact that he’d dealt with all of it alone was enough to force you to your knees. “I should’ve known better- I should’ve known you were upset. I’m so sorry, Buck. This was so unfair to you, I-”

He held up a hand, halting your words. “You can’t read my mind, sweetheart. And I could’ve communicated better.” He flashed you a sad smile, “That’s something I said I’d work on- communication. And I’m getting better at it, but I’m not perfect yet.”

“I’m not either, so… I guess we both have some stuff to work on. I probably shouldn’t go around alleging that you had an affair out of the blue.” You crossed your arms over your chest, hugging them tight to your body. Even if Bucky wasn’t sleeping with someone else, he still hadn’t allowed himself to touch you. And you were no match for the bone-chilling cold that had settled into the apartment.

“Um, okay, you know what? We can actually- let’s completely forget I said anything about this. Just put it out of your mind, alright?” This time, it was you who retreated. You who stepped away.

“Sweetheart, wait-” Bucky adopted your role as the pursuer. He took a few strides in your direction, anxious to close the gap between you. He felt you slipping through his fingers, like he may never regain what the two of you used to have.

“No, Buck, it’s okay. We’re okay. I just want you to do whatever works for you. I don’t want you to be hurting all the time, I don’t want you to be scared.” Again and again, you stroked your thumbs over your upper arms, but it didn’t bring you a hint of comfort. “And if that- if that means you can never touch me again, I’ll understand-”

“That’s not what I want- that’s absolutely not what I want,” Bucky’s eyes were wide. Almost crazed. It was as though the thought of never touching you again threatened to push him to the brink of madness. “I just need to… I need to take it slow. I have to start back at square one, like I did when I first met you. Is that okay? Can you- ”

“Whatever you need, I’m on board.” It was an automatic, instinctual response. Your voice was steady and even, free from any breaks or signs of uncertainty. You’d do anything for him, anything to ease his mind. “We can move as slowly as you need- there’s no rush.”

“But are you… are you sure?” His words dripped with anxiety, with fear. “Cause I can- I can try to get over it. I don’t want you to be miserable, doll. I can-”

“Buck, it’s okay.”

“Baby, I feel like I might…” He nearly doubled over, “I’m afraid I’m gonna lose you over this.”

“You won’t- I promise, you won’t.” Another surge of need coursed through you, begging you to wrap Bucky in an embrace, but you kept your hands to yourself. You’d never push him, would never dream of making him uncomfortable. “You will never lose me. I’m here for you, I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care how long it takes.”

And you meant it. Now that Bucky let you in on his secret, you understood that there had to be some distance. Some space. Of course, you’d still miss the physical intimacy. The sleepy mornings spent with your body draped across his chest. The late nights full of depravity and lust. But with the looming darkness of a possible affair banished, you could wait.

Though, you didn’t have to wait long at all.

Because Bucky vanquished space remaining between your body and his. He strode eagerly, anxiously across the room and raised his right hand, desperate to feel you again. But just as his palm grew close to your cheek, he faltered. His brain struggled to reign him in, to put a pause on his possibly dangerous plan. Only millimeters remained between his skin and yours, but he couldn’t find it in him to close the final gap.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Take your time.”

It was the final push he needed. And finally, he touched you again. His palm lightly ghosted over your cheek, and tears instantly crested over your lash line. The feeling of relief, of home, was almost intoxicating. It was the lightest, softest touch- almost imperceptible. But to you- to Bucky- it was like a fireworks show.

And after testing the waters with his feather-light touch, he found himself nearly begging for more.

He allowed his palm to actually rest against your face, to cup your cheek the way he always did. And it acted like an instant pain reliever. The excruciating ache in your chest relented, and your muscles slackened as they released their knots. An all-encompassing warmth wrapped around your entire body, finally ridding you of the vicious cold you’d suffered through all these weeks. This was the warmth you knew you couldn’t live without, the warmth only Bucky could provide.

His knees almost buckled beneath him, but he wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow anything to take this moment from either of you. All this time, he’d felt unmoored, adrift, lost in a dark, endless sea. And no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t seem to find his way back to shore. But with his skin pressed against yours, he finally felt steady. Stable. You provided him with a guiding light. An anchor. He felt more like himself than he had in the last three weeks, all because of you.

Your tears dampened Bucky’s skin, but he didn’t mind. He brushed them gently away with a light sweep of his thumb.

“Can I?” you motioned to the tears trailing down his cheek.

And after a moment of thought, he gave you a nod. Your hand drifted lightly over his skin to mop up his tears, but your touch only brought on more waterworks. He was so starved of your affection that even the lightest touch made him whimper. He let out a soft, grateful sound that knocked the breath from your chest.

The two of you remained there a while, soaking in the sensation of the other. Bucky didn’t dare to hug you, and kissing you was still off limits. But his palm remained flush with your cheek for as long as you allowed- and you had no urge to ever remove it.

You knew there was a long road ahead for him, but you didn’t mind. Starting back at square one with him was something you could handle. Something the two of you could handle together.

“It’s kind of a bummer that I didn’t get to make good use of your…” Bucky gestured to your discarded garter belt and thigh-highs, “outfit.”

You let loose a laugh that vibrated under his palm- the sensation sent a wave of warmth cresting over him.

“It’s alright, Buck. I’ll wear it again, I promise.” You leaned into his touch, greedily searching for more of him. “You can take as much time as you need, okay? I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

———————————

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @anything-more-than-human

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sun-kissy · 2 days ago

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may i request 🐚 with domestic prompt - “a blanket draped over a sleeping form” with bucky barnes please! congratulations on 1k!

thank you lovely!! :)

a blanket draped over a sleeping form + bucky barnes

꩜ bucky barnes x reader

꩜ summary: bucky takes care of you when you’re sick

“Hi, doll.”

Bucky’s voice is soft, a rope tugging you from your delirious slumber. You groan and press your face further into your snot-covered pillow.

He coos sympathetically, pressing his hand to the back of your neck. It’s cold. “I’m sorry. But you need to eat before you can sleep, okay? It gives your immune system the energy it needs.”

“But I don’t want to,” you croak out.

“I know,” Bucky murmurs. The bed shifts under his weight as he sits on the edge. He rubs your scalp consolingly, feeling you melt into his touch. “I know. But you gotta do it.”

You groan again. Bucky doesn’t wait for you to reply, simply places his palms on your hips and gently turns you over.

You crack your eyes open, coming face to face with your boyfriend looking down at you. He softens. You turn your face into his palm when he reaches out to brush your hair behind your ear. “Hi.” You press a kiss to his palm.

“Hi, doll,” he smiles fondly. “If you think you’re distracting me, it’s not working.”

Bucky chuckles when you huff. He helps you sit up, smile widening as you grumble something about him being a pain in the ass.

Your blanket pools at your waist. He notices the way you tense up, chill air hitting your bare skin. He immediately helps wrap the thick blanket around your shoulders, cocooning you.

“I look like a taco.”

“An adorable one,” Bucky replies with a kiss to your temple. He taps a spoon against a bowl of soup. It looks disgustingly yellow, like your great-grandmother Nancy’s teeth, you think. “Now, open up.”

You gasp. “James Barnes! You vile man, trying to get in a sick girl’s pants —“

“Y/n.”

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Not to take care of me, but —“

“Y/n,” he sighs again, lips curving upwards. “If you keep talking, I might just stuff the spoon in your mouth.”

You giggle. Bucky rolls his eyes, smiling despite himself. “Come on, doll. Say aaah.”

“Aaaah.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs as your lips close around the spoon. “You eat this all up, and I’ll give you a kiss.”

You smile. The soup doesn’t taste too bad after all.

san’s 1k ocean odyssey

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the-winter-spider · 23 hours ago

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hi!!!!! i was wondering if you could write a little something about bucky with fem!tired!reader where she is always really sleepy, and he thinks its cute <3

like he always rubs your back until you fall asleep, watching you wake up to him all needy because you were just too tired to do anything the night before, gentle mornings full of adoration and just fluffy love!!!!!

Sleep

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Flufffffff

A/N: Hope this is what you wanted! Sorry if not lol 🤣

---

Bucky had spent the whole night just holding you.

You’d been too tired to do anything else, too exhausted to even keep your eyes open when you’d crawled into bed with him, murmuring something soft and sleepy against his chest before passing out completely. He’d just chuckled, running his hand over your back, rubbing slow circles into your skin until your breathing evened out.

Now, morning had crept in, golden light spilling through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. Bucky hadn’t moved, hadn’t dared to, afraid of waking you. Instead, he laid there, watching you, memorizing every detail. The way your lips parted slightly in sleep, the way your fingers were still tangled in his shirt, the way you were tucked so perfectly into him like you belonged there. Because you did.

Bucky had never known peace, not really. Not in the war, not after, not in the years spent as a ghost of himself, and not even in the so-called stillness of recovery. Peace was something fragile, fleeting, something that slipped through his fingers just as he thought he’d grasped it and yet, here you were.

Wrapped up in his arms, your breathing slow and steady against his chest, your fingers curled loosely in his shirt like even in sleep, you were afraid to let go.

Bucky didn’t move. He barely even breathed, afraid that if he did, the moment would shatter. He’d spent too many nights lying awake, convinced he wasn’t allowed to have things like this to have you, warm and soft and trusting, pressing yourself into him like he was something safe. Like he wasn’t ruined.

His flesh hand traced slow, absent-minded circles against your back, memorizing the way you fit against him. You were always tired, always halfway to dreamland, always seeking him out like your body knew, even before your mind did, that he was there. It made something deep in his chest ache, something warm and unfamiliar.

He’d never had someone like you before.

Someone who didn’t flinch at his touch, who didn’t hesitate to reach for him even when exhaustion had made your limbs heavy and your words slurred. You trusted him so completely it scared him sometimes. But then you’d sigh like this, nuzzle your nose against his collarbone, fingers twisting sleepily into his shirt, and he’d realize there was nothing to be scared of at all.

Because, somehow, you were his and he was yours.

You let out a tiny, barely-there hum, shifting against him, your lips brushing the base of his throat as you mumbled, “Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Bucky huffed a soft laugh, rubbing a hand down your spine. “You always say that.”

“’S true,” you slurred, still half-gone, and god, you were so fucking adorable like this soft and warm and needy in a way that made him want to wrap you up and never let go.

His vibranium fingers ran through your hair, slow and deliberate, coaxing you further into rest. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you.”

You made another soft, sleepy sound, shifting closer, like that was even possible and whispered, “Promise?”

Bucky’s breath stopped, his throat tightening. The answer should have been easy. But he’d made promises before. Promises that shattered. Promises that turned to dust. But you, it didn’t feel like a promise that could break. It felt like something inevitable. Something written into his very being, carved into his bones, the way you fit against him so perfectly.

So he just held you closer, pressing another kiss to your forehead, his voice soft but sure. “Yeah, sweetheart. I promise.”

You let out a contented sigh, your body relaxing completely, finally giving in to sleep.

His heart ached with something deep and unshakable, something he didn’t have a name for something too big to be contained in a single feeling. He lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch featherlight.

In the quiet stillness of the morning, you sighed softly, barely stirring, and whispered, “I love you, Bucky.”

His breath hitched. He thought you were still dreaming, that the words had slipped from your subconscious without you even knowing. His throat tightened, his chest burning with the weight of it. He swallowed hard, staring up at the ceiling as he blinked rapidly, but it didn’t stop the tear that slid down his cheek.

He exhaled shakily, there was no possible way you meant to say that, you were asleep but he knew he had to say it back because he’s been wanting to say it to you since the day he laid eyes on you, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too.”

Warm fingers brushed his jaw, catching the tear before it could fall past his chin. His eyes snapped to yours, surprised to find you awake, watching him with soft, half-lidded eyes.

You didn’t say anything, not at first. You just leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his neck, then another, trailing your lips up the column of his throat, slow and sweet and deliberate.

Bucky let out a shaky breath, his grip on your waist tightening. “Sweetheart…”

You hummed against his skin, tilting your head to kiss along his jaw before finally capturing his lips with yours. He melted instantly, groaning softly as he pulled you closer, his vibranium hand sliding up your back.

In one smooth motion, he flipped you onto him, your legs straddling his hips as he gazed up at you, eyes dark and searching. His fingers traced lazy circles over your bare thighs, his voice quieter now, rough with emotion.

“Did you mean it?” His voice was timid, quiet. His heart pounded nervously for the answer.

Your hands cradled his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones as you nodded, your gaze unwavering. “I’ve never meant anything as much as I mean that.”

Bucky let out a breath like he’d been holding it his whole life. His hands tightened on your hips, grounding himself in the warmth of you, the weight of you in his lap.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“I know.” You kissed him again, deeper this time, slow and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world.

Bucky’s hands gripped your hips, holding you against him as you deepened the kiss, pouring every bit of warmth, of love, of want into it. His lips were warm and soft beneath yours, but there was nothing soft about the way his hands roamed, slow, deliberate, fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you shiver.

You rolled your hips against him instinctively, chasing the heat pooling low in your stomach, and Bucky let out a quiet groan, his grip tightening.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough.

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, your hands sliding from his face to his chest, pressing lightly over his heart. “Bucky,” you whispered back.

Something in his expression shifted, something raw and full of emotion, like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear that. His hands slid up your sides, under the thin fabric of your shirt, fingertips skimming the warm skin of your waist.

“Say it again,” he rasped, his thumbs stroking over your ribs.

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “I love you.”

Bucky groaned softly, flipping you onto your back in one fluid motion, his body caging you beneath him. He kissed you again, hungrier this time, like he couldn’t get enough. His hands moved with slow reverence, memorizing every dip and curve of your body, like he was trying to make up for lost time.

You arched into his touch as his lips trailed down your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. His metal hand slid down, tracing the outside of your thigh before hooking behind your knee, spreading you open for him.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, voice thick with need.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, and he groaned, nipping gently at your collarbone before soothing the spot with his tongue. Every touch, every kiss, was slow and deliberate, like he wanted to savor you, like he was committing every little sound you made to memory.

His lips ghosted over your chest, then lower, and lower still, until all you could do was gasp his name, your body arching into him as he worshipped you the only way he knew how.

He pressed his forehead to yours, breathing hard, his voice rough with something deeper than just desire, he whispered the words again, just so you’d never forget.

“I love you too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky banres

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daisybvck · 2 days ago

Text

Bucky is bad at stalking…

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky x reader

Warning: 18+ (MDNI)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

• It has been a WHILE since Bucky has felt anything for any women, or even felt a women. He used to be such a charmer in the 40’s and now he’s so out of his comfort zone with the new and modern world, he doesn’t even know how to approach a woman

• Bucky’s therapist suggested that he should look for another purpose in life than fighting alongside the avengers. Other than getting his hands dirty and bloody. He was over 100 years old and needed to find something to cling to in between missions – a new hobby, an interesting course, an intriguing book, perhaps a lover? So Bucky took leave for a couple of weeks.

• And soon afterwards he manages to find his new purpose, when you accidentally bumped into his broad chest on the street. Such a petrified yet kind creature you were, smiling at his cold gaze. That object of his desires was you.

• Stalker!Bucky takes watching over you as a point of honor, to make sure nobody bothered you, no creeps followed you home. Oh he knew your address by now, because Bucky had to make sure you returned from work safely. And he was so patient. The soldier kept his distance watching over from his motorcycle, hidden between the shadows.

• However, Stalker!Bucky became bolder, sneaking into your home when you were out. His massive figure looming around your personal spaces not even hesitating before digging straight to the panties drawer.

• Stalker!Bucky would stuff one pair of your underwear at the time into his loose trousers - he might need them and your smell later that evening, at the confinement of his own house. This was the closest he could get to you, at least for now.

• But you couldn't ignore the strange smell that lingered in the air as you just returned home. It was foreign, yet pleasant - a simple male cologne with a tint of burned wood. But you were living alone! And who messed around with your decor? You could swear that the bunny figure was standing next to the bookshelf, not near your plants.

• Stalker!Bucky wanted to be acknowledged by you, to gain your precious and sweet attention. He often wondered how soft your hands were, what your hair smelled like, what your laugh sounded like... how tight your pussy would squeeze around him when he finally lay his hands on you.

• Obviously you noticed the strange presence of that man at some point. He followed you like a shadow and it made you feel eerie. Bucky, as you learned, happened to be shopping at the same grocery shop, sometimes joining you on a walk in the nearest park. Or when the engine of your car couldn't start and he offered to give you a ride. He was your new friend, right?

• The coincidences were a little too perfectly planned out to be accidental.

•The man was so intimidating that you accepted his invitation on a date in a pub. You excitedly put on a little, black dress that accentuated your body a little too good to be true for Stalker!Bucky.

• To your surprise the date was going surprisingly well - Bucky was a good listener, charmed by your personality and never pushing you to the dance floor if you clearly stated that you didn't want to. He didn't even try to sneak his coarse palms under the hem of your dress!

•The false sense of security got you a little too tipsy - perhaps a few drinks too much got you all tired, overwhelmed and whiney.

•It was you who climbed into Bucky’s big lap and placed your head over his shoulder. He smelled so nice, so familiar... And his embrace was warm. But it left you confused, you didn't drink that much, didn't you?

• “That enough for today? Let's get you to bed, sweetheart”

• Bucky stated, brushing some loose strands of hair away from your blushed face and you nodded weakly. You didn't remember when he seated you in the passenger seat of his car or when he helped you get through the front doors.

• And when Stalker!Bucky finally got you dizzy and cuddled beneath his bedsheets, he couldn't be fucking happier in his entire, miserable life.

• At that moment Bucky didn't want to worry what your reaction would be in the morning, when you realized that the doors were sealed tight with you inside Bucky’s house. Your new home.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #stalker!bucky #bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #smut #bucky x reader

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late-to-the-party-81 · 16 hours ago

Text

Squawk!!!!! 🦜

Where Worlds Collide - Intro

Pairing: Silver Fox!Sugar Daddy!Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Female Reader

Summary: Your boss forces you to be eye candy for an alpha at a gala, but things take a turn for the better when you meet another alpha. Does it matter that you don't belong in his world?

Word Count: Over 9.2k

Warnings: Smut, v. fingering, possessive behavior, dirty talk, instant connection, A/B/O dynamics, talk of bonding, misogyny, unspecified age gap, insecurities, world building, choking (not our reader… yet), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: I'm pretty proud of the intro to this world, lovelies! @whisperlullaby, @targaryenvampireslayer, @tavners, here it is! Ant thanks to @queenoftheworldisdead as well. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Soft music drifted from the ballroom as you stepped into the lavish venue. You’d never been to a gala before. Your family wasn’t wealthy enough to receive an invitation, nor did your last name carry any influence. The only reason you were there tonight was because of the alpha on your arm, all thanks to your boss’s insistence that you accompany him.

It was an evening of style, grace, and luxury, and you didn’t belong.

You held your breath as you walked deeper into the ballroom, the glittering chandeliers casting a refined glow over everything. A mix of alphas, betas, and omegas socialized and gossiped, their glamorous evening wear glittering under the lights. You had designed a few of the dresses and suits, but none of the people wearing them would recognize you. The alpha you worked for always took the credit. Complaining about it wouldn’t help. After all, you’d only sound like an ungrateful omega and hundreds of other omegas would beg to take your place.

You couldn’t wait for the day you quit.

Chet’s grip on your arm brought you back to the present. “Keep quiet and smile,” he ordered, a haughty expression on his face as he led you through the place. You didn't want to judge all men named Chet, but you had pegged him as a douchebag the second he went in for his fitting and he was proving you right. You couldn't even enjoy that he was objectively handsome since his personality made him less attractive.

“I am smiling,” you said. Wrinkling your nose at the overwhelming mix of scents and expensive colognes and perfumes, you did your best to make your smile look natural. The servers looked like they were doing the same as they served everyone. It was strange how a room so enormous could make someone feel so small.

“Then keep smiling,” Chet ordered through his grin. “What you do or don’t do is a reflection of me.”

“I know,” you muttered. Because it was all about him and you were just his omega arm candy. You really should’ve demanded overtime pay from your boss, but that conversation wouldn’t have ended well.

“As it stands, perhaps I made the right choice by bringing you,” he said, nodding to a few older gentlemen. “I can smell their envy.”

You did notice a few more men looking your way. A few women as well, not hiding that they were whispering about you. Trying to hide your vulnerability, you held yourself the way you thought a goddess would. You also held yourself with pride since the dress you wore was your own design. A sleeveless black dress with a middle slit, it was bold and alluring. The glitter throughout the fabric made you shine like stars in the night sky. The finishing touch was the matching collar, a tasteful way to protect you from any alpha who even thought about marking you.

Reaching up instinctively to run a hand over your collar, you felt your heart ache. Your inner omega wanted a mark, but the thought of being tied to someone was somewhat terrifying. You respected omegas who wanted to go the traditional route by staying home and being submissive, but you didn’t want to be submissive outside of the bedroom. You wanted a partner who would view you as an equal.

Your false confidence didn’t last long when Chet’s grip on you tightened, your body immediately going stiff. You’d have to take a long shower and dry clean your dress just to get rid of his scent. “Loosen up,” he ordered.

“Maybe I’d loosen up if you weren’t digging your fingers in,” you whispered.

“You’re my date. It’s my right to touch you,” he sneered. He had no right. It didn't matter if he was an alpha and he was rich. The urge to slap him across his face was so strong your palm itched. “So, get the stick out of your ass.”

A shiver rolled down your spine when you heard a low growl come from another alpha. Glancing around, you didn’t see anyone looking directly at you. It probably had nothing to do with you because why would anyone care if an alpha was bossing you around?

Chet’s hold on you loosened nonetheless. “And just so we’re clear, you have no intention of sleeping with me?” he asked as an omega in a revealing dress sauntered by. Your date didn’t bother to hide how he was undressing her with his eyes.

“That’s right,” you said. You made it clear to your boss that sex wasn’t an option, and he was oddly on your side. Maybe he thought Chet could sway you if he tried hard enough. If he even thought of using some sort of alpha command on you, nothing would stop you from lashing out and making him sorry.

“Then you’ll have no problem finding your own ride home should I choose to leave with someone else,” he said.

“So, I can’t make you look bad, but you can leave with another omega?” you asked.

“You got it. You’re smarter than you look.” He tapped your nose with a condescending grin. “And here I thought you were just a pretty face.”

The prick was pushing his luck. “Listen you-”

“Chet, my boy! Good to see you!” A man interrupted, uncaring that you were speaking.

“Shane,” Chet smiled. “Always a pleasure.”

The bulky alpha shamelessly looked you over, his scent almost making you choke on your next breath. “And who might this be?”

“Pretty, isn't she?” Chet cut in before you could answer, puffing his chest out. “Doesn't say much, but I’m not exactly interested in her conversational skills, am I?”

You bit your tongue when they chuckled. Be seen and not heard. It was insulting.

“Come join me, but leave the omega,” Shane said unapologetically, taking another look at your chest. What would happen if you threw a drink in his face? “As entertaining as she would be, we have business to discuss, and we don’t need the distraction.”

“Of course,” Chet smiled, turning you toward the bar as Shane walked away. “Since he doesn't want you around, why don't you take advantage of the free drinks until I get back?”

“I’m not-”

“And not that you’d have any extra cash to tip, but it’s taken care of,” he continues, your face hot at the assumption that you couldn't afford to tip the staff. “Just behave and try not to make a fool out of either of us, you got it? Wouldn’t want your boss to hear about it if you do.”

Biting back a retort, you freed yourself from his grip. There wasn’t enough liquor at this party to get you through the rest of this evening. “Don’t worry about me, alpha. Go have fun,” you said, your eyes burning as he walked away. A few heads turned your way when your scent soured. It wasn’t enough that you had to attend an event where you didn’t belong, but your date just had to rub salt in the open wound by reminding you of such. “Fucking asshole,” you muttered, making your way over to the bar to order a drink.

Plastering a smile back on your face when you got the bartender’s attention, you ordered a whiskey on the rocks. You wanted something that would go down smooth but leave a little burn. You also preferred opting to watch the bartender make a drink in front of you instead of grabbing a glass of already poured champagne. The drinks were likely fine, but better safe than sorry. And like hell would you accept a drink from your sorry excuse for a “date” if he offered you one. He was lucky you-

An intoxicating scent hit you out of nowhere, making you grip the bar as you inhaled. Plums, whiskey, sandalwood. The blended aromas had your mouth watering, and a whimper threatened to slip out. Your heart pounded against your ribs. Desire burned in your stomach. As quickly as the scent excited you, it seemed to wrap itself around you in a soothing embrace. How could a smell leave you hot and bothered and also feel like a hug?

No… It couldn’t be your mate.

You caught a small movement out of the corner of your eye, and you stopped breathing when you found a pair of blue eyes fixed on you that belonged to a devilishly handsome man. He leaned against the wall, his wool-blend black suit fitting his thick body like second skin. Streaks of gray lined his luscious brown hair and peppered his beard, too. He looked like the kind of alpha who would have omegas kneeling at his feet, and it frightened you how badly you wanted to get on your hands and knees and crawl toward him.

His. Mine.

Lifting his tumbler to his lips, he kept his eyes on you as he sipped the expensive liquor. You wanted to look away but couldn't as the air crackled between you. He had you under some sort of trance you couldn't snap yourself out of. As frightening as it was to have a scent hit you so strongly, a feeling like this hit you square in the chest, the thought of him staring at another omega that way nearly made you hiss because you didn't want anyone else on the receiving end of those blue eyes.

He smirked like he read your mind and pushed himself off the wall. You did whimper out loud when you realized just how large he was. Dominant, assertive, yet there was something almost playful in his smirk when he finally broke his gaze. You greedily inhaled with the hope of catching more of his scent when he strode toward the nearby balcony, smooth and fluid as a server quickly took the empty tumbler from his hand. The men at the gala were all posturing, but no one could match the confidence of that alpha.

So how were people not surrounding him, begging for a scrap of attention? Was he untouchable among those who deemed themselves untouchable? He certainly didn’t look like the kind of man who chased after anyone. No, people went to him.

He wanted you to follow him, right?

Downing your drink in one gulp, your feet moved before you could stop yourself. “I don’t need this alpha,” you whispered, the words bitter in your mouth as you followed his path. If you were smart, you’d walk the other way and not look back. Yet the thought of never seeing him again made your heart ache in a way you didn’t want to examine.

Does he know?

Studies over the years showed that not every bound pair was the same. Some couples felt the bond instantaneously like a firework exploding. Others felt it like a small burn that slowly consumed them over time. For a few, the spark took a long time to ignite. You couldn't ignore this burn if you tried.

You welcomed the slight chill in the air as you stepped onto the large balcony. It was lit up with sparkling lights, yet it didn’t take away from the stars that shone in the sky above. The alpha who caught your eye stood by the railing, alone, like he was looking over a kingdom. You felt foolish for going out there to bother him.

Steeling yourself with false confidence again, you walked over to stand beside him. You weren’t close enough to touch him, wanting to leave him a respectable amount of space. You could always use the excuse that you just needed some fresh air if he asked what you were doing.

Stealing a glance at him, you didn’t want to believe that you had a true connection with this man, that he could be your mate. No way would an omega like you be his match. Would he even want an omega like you? One with dreams to do more, be more?

“Beautiful,” he said, his voice thick like honey and the whiskey you drank. Of course, his voice would be a powerful weapon. But he wasn’t scenting you, or trying to tear your collar off, or doing anything to indicate that he felt the sort of spark you had. Maybe that was for the best.

“It is,” you sighed, looking out at the view. You couldn’t deny the beauty and how much easier it was to breathe since you weren’t surrounded by the suffocating bodies and scents. “It really is something.”

“I was talking about you.”

You whipped your head toward him so quickly you nearly hurt your neck. The flare of heat in his eyes hypnotized you again, but this time you didn’t want him to draw you in. A man of his stature, his power, he could chew you up, spit you out, and leave you a shell of yourself. But seeing him up close, his laugh lines, and the touch of softness in his gaze, you wanted to know all about him and the life he lived.

You were in so much trouble.

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“I don't think I’ve seen you at a gala before. I would've remembered you,” he stated. You weren't sure what to say to that. “I’m James, but you can call me Bucky if you’d like.”

You blinked a few times. “You’re James Barnes,” you whispered, not having to belong in the inner circle to know who he was.

James Buchanan Barnes. One of the wealthiest alphas in the city, his family came from money and it was no secret that Bucky, as he liked to go by, wasn’t bound to anyone. People assumed that he didn't want to share his wealth with anyone beyond his charitable donations, or that he was either extremely picky in choosing a mate. And here he was talking to you. This was the man you thought could be your mate.

You were in way over your head.

“I am,” he said, looking at you expectantly.

It took a moment, but your name tumbled from your lips as you shifted toward him. He inhaled when a breeze rolled in and you hoped your scent got to him the way his scent got to you. The way his eyes darkened, it had. Your inner omega wanted to purr with delight.

Time stood still when he took your hand and brought it to his lips. “It’s a pleasure,” he whispered, his lips brushing your knuckles. “I hope you don’t mind me being forward, but…”

“But what?”

You held your breath when he turned your hand and ran his nose along your wrist with a small growl. It was bold, intimate, possessive, and you got impossibly wet from the action. Had Chet or another alpha done that, it would've been a different story. “You smell divine,” he whispered against your skin.

You whined before your inner hackles went up, making him pull his mouth away immediately. He at least had some level of respect and sensed the shift in your stance. “How many omegas have you said that and done that to?” you asked when you had no right to feel jealous.

He didn’t look put off by your question, and he didn’t let go of your hand either. “I’ve come across a few delectable scents before, but I don’t think I’ve ever described anyone as divine,” he answered, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. An intense longing behind his eyes had your knees weak. “I haven’t smelled anyone like you.”

This alpha was telling the truth, but he wasn't a boy scout either. He knew how to fuck, you could tell, and he likely broke hearts without intending to. You didn’t want to be the next victim if a quick fuck was all he was looking for.

“I haven’t smelled anyone like you either,” you admitted, grudgingly pulling away. His heady scent made it hard to concentrate. And standing close to a man who wore a suit that cost more than half a year’s rent was another reminder that you were a girl playing dress up, nothing more. “I should go. I shouldn’t be here.”

Bucky stopped you from turning away, his grip on your arms tender so you wouldn’t feel threatened. “And why is that?”

“Because I don’t belong here, and I don’t expect you to understand that,” you replied.

It was bad enough to let your guard down by following him out there, and you couldn’t let him seduce you more than he already had. You were lucky the very presence of him didn't trigger your heat. And how would your story end? He was a rich alpha, and you were a struggling omega. Was happiness really in the cards?

Your eyes widened when you heard the rumble in his chest, his scent producing a soothing aura that wrapped around you. Your lip trembled slightly as the rumble faded. Bucky could’ve let you walk away, yet he was comforting you. It made you want to cry.

“I may understand better than you think,” he whispered. Did he? Did he feel alone in that crowd of people there? “But help me understand why you feel that way.”

You rapidly blinked to keep the tears at bay. What was there for him to understand? “Okay,” you whispered back. The fact that he wanted you to talk to him meant something. “For starters, that crowd is kind of… well, awful from the short time I observed and interacted with them. They think they’re better than everyone else because they have so much, but they have no right to look down on others.”

The people in the gala simply flaunted what they had without a second thought. Being there made you appreciate your friends and their genuine interactions more. They worked hard for everything they had. They wouldn’t have anything against people born with a silver spoon in their mouths if they showed a little humility.

Bucky's chuckle surprised you. “Money doesn’t equal class, and believe me when I say they aren’t worth taking up any space in your beautiful mind,” he said, giving you a small smile. “To be honest, I came out here to get away from them because, save a select few, they're fucking assholes.”

You found yourself smiling, too. No wonder he has been standing by himself. “Is that the only reason?” you asked curiously, reaching up to touch his perfect hair simply because you could.

He looked at you, a mixture of lust and something soft. Standing like this you felt like a couple. “I may have wanted you to follow me, and I’m glad you did,” he said, his tone calm and casual as butterflies filled your stomach. “You’re the first person I’ve considered approaching in a long time, but you looked a bit upset when you went to the bar. I didn’t think bothering you would win me any favors.”

You exhaled. Was he the alpha who growled when Chet gripped you too tightly? “I…” you shivered when another breeze rolled in.

He shrugged his jacket the moment he spotted you shivered. “May I?” he offered.

You hesitated. Bucky had a powerful scent, and how would it look to Chet if you wore another alpha’s jacket? Chet wasn’t your alpha, but he could run his mouth and get you in trouble with your boss. It didn’t matter that you wanted to quit one day. Today wasn’t that day because you financially weren’t ready. That was the excuse you made up in your head.

But your inner omega wanted Bucky’s scent to surround you and you replied in a small voice, “Yes, please.”

Bucky carefully placed the warm jacket around your shoulders. “I know the crowd bothered you for good reason, but who specifically upset you and how can I fix it?”

“My date,” you answered. You didn't have it in you to lie to him. It also wasn't up to him to fix it.

Bucky hummed, running his hands up and down your arms. It helped warm and relax you. “What’s his name?” he asked, his eyes landing on the collar around your neck. You wondered what he would do if your mating gland was exposed, and you had to push that thought away.

“His name is Chet and he’s discussing business with some alpha.” The change in his scent was subtle. He seemed too confident to be jealous, but he didn’t seem pleased either at the thought of you being with someone else. “They were extremely condescending, and I couldn’t exactly throw a drink in their faces or put them in their place since I’m just an omega.”

Bucky snarled quietly, his eyes blazing. “You’re not just an omega,” he said. He was upset on your behalf. Was he not like other older alphas who wanted omegas to be subservient? “Maybe I should have a chat with them.”

You purred before you could stop yourself. Bucky offering to stand up for you felt better than you wanted to admit. “You don't have to do that,” you said, running your fingers through his hair again. You wanted to soothe him the way he soothed you. “Besides, I’m not really on a date with Chet. He just wanted me to be eye candy for the night.”

Bucky almost snarled again, but raised an eyebrow instead. “And you agreed to that? I have the feeling you aren’t the arm candy type.”

You giggled. He was right about that. “Didn’t really have a choice thanks to my boss,” you told him.

“Your boss? What exactly do you do for work?” he asked carefully.

He asked a lot of questions, but you didn't mind since he seemed genuinely interested. Maybe he assumed you were an escort. “I'm a designer,” you answered, smiling to yourself. “At least, I want to be. I’m just an assistant at the moment.”

“Let me guess. Your boss is an alpha, makes you do the grunt work, and takes the credit?” he mused, humming when you solemnly nodded. “And he convinced you to come here tonight because Chet is a client?”

“Something like that. It was either that or I get fired,” you laughed bitterly. “And if he fired me I’d get blacklisted, then I’d have no job, no money at all, and I’d lose my tiny apartment and…”

His nose wrinkled when you trailed off. You were so embarrassed, and you couldn’t stop your scent from souring. Talking to one of the richest alphas ever about your problems wasn’t something you thought you’d experience tonight, but that soothing rumble and smell came out again to help you breathe easier.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” he said with a touch of firmness so you knew he didn’t pity you. You could take a lot of things, but not pity.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you said, smoothing out some of the fabric on your dress and not wanting to dwell on the topic. “I actually made this,” you told him. It was silly, but you specifically wanted to hear something nice from Bucky to make you feel better, which was bad. You shouldn’t want compliments from him or want him period.

He parted his jacket so he could look you over. Unlike Shane leering at you earlier, Bucky seemed to take in the details of your design with a careful eye. “You made this? It’s stunning,” he said with pride that rivaled yours. You lost your breath when he ran the back of his finger along your torso, heat spreading through your body like a wildfire. “Like you.”

Your mind raced, the heavy weight of his gaze pinning you in place. The longer you stood there, the more you wanted him. You had to snap out of it. “You’re dangerous,” you whispered, shaking your head as his hand fell away. “I should go inside.”

He stepped back, his eyes searching yours. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No,” you replied honestly. Some of his actions were forward, but he wasn’t pushy. He was the sort of predator who probably gently played with his food before he sank his teeth in, yet you weren’t completely afraid of the bite. “Though I’m wondering why you don’t have a date tonight. Keeping your options open?”

Maybe he really did want to live the bachelor life.

The corner of his lip tugged when you narrowed your eyes. “I come to these things to make a short appearance. That’s all,” he explained. Even the wealthy had obligations. “Unlike some alphas my age, I’m not interested in having a date for the sole purpose of eye candy. And because most of the people here are fucking assholes, I don’t usually find anyone to take home.”

“So, you aren’t interested in taking me home?” you tried to tease. If he said no, you could lick your wounds later since you’d likely never see him again. If he said yes, you… Well, you didn’t know what you’d do.

He reached out and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close enough that you felt just how big he was. A shudder wracked your body, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you. “I’m very interested in taking you home,” he breathed.

You lifted your eyes to him, his desire matching yours. “I-”

A young giggling couple stumbled out to the balcony reeking of booze. They took a few steps forward and Bucky moved you out of the way before they could crash into you. The ferocious growl he let out made the laughter cease, but it had you purring like a bitch in heat. “Leave,” he ordered, keeping his arms tight around you. The underlying threat in that single word had the couple rushing back inside, but they had effectively ruined the moment.

“I think that alpha almost pissed his pants,” you teased to cut through the tension.

“He’s lucky he didn’t tumble over the railing,” he said, loosening his hold on you and taking in your expression. You felt naked under his stare. “You aren’t ready to leave with me just yet.”

“I’m still here with a ‘date’,” you reminded him to cover up any feelings or doubts in your mind.

Other than Bucky being wealthy, powerful, and smelling like a sinful kind of heaven, you didn’t fully know him. Something within you felt like you did, but going home with him for the night… What if you disappointed him? What if he decided he didn't want you?

He gave nothing away as he stared at you while you felt like your eyes told him everything. It wasn’t fair how in control he looked when you were close to spiraling. “Let’s go sit inside,” he suggested, finally cracking a smile when your face scrunched up. “No one will bother us, and I’d like to keep talking to you even if you don’t decide to leave with me.”

“I guess it wouldn't hurt to sit with you for a few minutes,” you said, especially if he would keep others away from you.

His hand on your hip felt like it belonged there as he guided you back inside. The scents and mindless chatter didn’t bother you as much now, likely because all you could really smell and concentrate on was Bucky. Did his kisses taste like plums or whiskey? Both?

He brought to a corner near the bar, far enough away from the mingling crowd that you still felt a bit of privacy. You kept his jacket around you though the room was considerably warmer than it was outside, not quite ready to give it back to him. “Drink?” he asked, angling his chair so that his knees were touching yours. There was no table in front of you. Anyone looking would see how close you were.

“No, thanks,” you said. You already downed a glass of whiskey and your head was spinning thanks to him.

You felt his gaze on you for a full minute before he spoke again. “Your ‘date’ isn’t the reason you’re hesitating to leave,” he said, scratching along his beard. You bet it would feel wonderful between your thighs. “Is it me? Am I too old for you?”

You had to laugh. “You’re a gorgeous silver fox, so that isn’t the problem,” you said. Beneath the suit you knew he was in great shape, too.

He smiled a gorgeous smile, appreciating the compliment. “So it isn't my age. Do you think I won’t treat you well?”

“I know you’ll treat me well,” you answered, avoiding his gaze. You knew that in your core. “But I’m afraid of what happens in the morning.”

He forced your gaze back to him with a large hand. “What are you afraid of?” he asked, his thumb brushing your cheek.

Everything.

“I’m afraid if I get a taste of you it won’t be enough for one night,” you said, your heart pounding as he stared into your eyes. Like he was staring deep into your soul. “And it isn’t fair that you have that kind of power over me.”

He looked almost impressed with your answer. “I appreciate your honesty,” he praised, his thumb sweeping over your lips this time. “And it won't be enough. Once I get a taste of you, I won’t let you go.”

It wasn’t a matter of if with him, but when. “You couldn't possibly want me for more than one night,” you said. He knew you were just a struggling designer’s assistant and didn’t run with this crowd. You lived in different worlds.

“I’m going to want you every night.” He tilted his head when you shifted in your seat. “You feel it, don't you?”

You feigned innocence when he held your gaze, your heart racing. God, he had felt it. Was it an explosion, a slow burn, or something else? “Feel what?”

Bucky smirked, not at all fooled. “That you’re my-”

“Don’t say it,” you begged. Speaking the word would make it real and it wasn't something he could take back. “Because if you don’t want that or me, we can just go our separate ways and ignore it.”

He hadn’t marked you, and you hadn’t claimed him either. You didn’t know what it would feel like to have his knot, so you couldn’t possibly miss it. And neither of you would have to depend on the other. You could walk away with as minimal damage as possible, and you’d find a way to remain whole. So would he.

The low growl Bucky emitted made the nearby guests move away, but you weren’t afraid. “Ignore it? I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. I would've fucked you right out there on the balcony if that couple hadn't interrupted us,” he said, your body hot and needy at the thought of him fucking you while you looked out at the view. “I’m lucky finally finding you didn’t send me into a rut.”

You thought the same about your heat. “Bucky-”

“Our scents call to each other. We call to each other,” he said, placing his hand on your chest. How did your heart feel fuller from his touch? “Tell me you didn't feel a connection when you caught my scent and looked at me.”

“I felt something,” you admitted.

“And it compelled you enough to follow me outside, to open up to me,” he said. You couldn't deny that. “You may say you don’t belong here, but something inside you says you belong with me.”

“And that doesn’t bother you? Scare you?” you asked. Having mates could be wonderful, but what if he wanted that pull with someone who wasn’t you?

“No, it doesn’t,” he said. There wasn't even a whiff of fear, likely because he had nothing to lose. “In fact, I think you should quit your job and move in with me.

You looked at him like he suddenly grew another head. “Quit my job and move in with you?”

“Yes. Your boss doesn't deserve to have you as an assistant, and you wouldn't have to pay rent if you stayed at my place.”

You didn’t attempt to laugh off his request since he was completely serious. “You realize that sounds insane, right?” you added. It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary though. Some couples who took their time building their bond still moved in right away.

“Insane would’ve been marking you the moment I saw you and dragging you home the way some alphas do,” he said.

You bristled. “It’s too soon for you to mark me,” you said, even as your mating bond throbbed.

“Don’t worry. I won't mark you tonight,” he assured you. Hurt crept up for a split second before he ran a finger along your collar. You visibly trembled and realized that he did want to mark you. He just wasn’t doing so tonight out of respect for you. “But you can still be mine in every other way until that day comes.”

You opened your mouth to argue. He hadn’t marked you, but you still felt owned. “You really think people want you with an omega outside of your tax bracket?”

“You think I give a fuck what they think?” His handsome face twisted in a scowl as he looked around. “And if they even think about insulting you, I’ll ruin them. It’s that simple.”

“It isn’t that simple,” you said.

“Why not? I know you're meant to be mine and you know it, too.” He touched your collar again, your mating bond throbbing almost to the point of pain. “You won’t need to worry about money or a roof over your head because I’ll give it to you. And a space to design your own clothes and make your dream come true.”

It sounded too good to be true, and nothing in this world was free. “I have my rent. If I break my lease-”

“I’ll pay what you owe.”

Your rent was probably pocket change to him. At least you didn’t have a roommate you’d have to worry about. It was always too risky to rely on someone else to help with bills and utilities. “And all that in exchange for what? Being your whore?”

He snarled, and you were delighted to hear that sound. “Trust me, doll, you may want me to fuck you like a whore, but I’ll treat you like a goddess. Like my equal,” he replied, his promise touching something deep inside you and drowning out most of your fear.

You just wished the remaining would fade away.

“I want us to be equals, but do you realize that you’d have all the power until I get my designs off the ground, right? I’d have to rely on your money, your roof over my head,” you said, swallowing the small lump in your throat. Did he realize what he was asking of you? To push aside the small amount of pride and independence you had? “I’ve done fine on my own and to have to depend on you is something else altogether.”

You hoped he at the very least realized how vulnerable you were right now by opening up more.

He looked vulnerable, too, as he moved closer. “I know it’s a lot to have to depend on me, but with me you wouldn't have to do this on your own. My finances don’t mean I have power. You’d have power, too,” he said. You wanted to believe you would. “In fact, I think you’re the only person in this entire city who could bring me to my knees. That’s power.”

You smiled a little. Could you really bring him to his knees? “As flattered as I am that you want to take care of me, do I have to decide tonight?” you asked. He was saying all the right things, and it was tempting, but there was so much to figure out beyond the living arrangements.

“We can discuss it more tomorrow if you’d like,” he said, looking around as you let out a breath. He had no doubt in his mind that you would spend the night. “Have you seen your date?”

You looked around, too, not at all worried when you spotted him. A complete contrast to how you felt at the beginning of the evening. “He’s…” You gestured to the bar where Chet was flirting with the loosely dressed omega from earlier and staring right down the front of her dress.

Bucky growled and swept his eyes over you, no doubt catching how you pressed your thighs together from the sound. A growl really shouldn't be that sexy. “Not a very faithful alpha, is he?”

“Well, he isn't my alpha, remember?” you pointed out. Someone like Chet would never be. “My boss only ‘suggested’ that I go with him tonight, and I made it clear I wasn't going to sleep with him.”

There was another hint of a growl before he smiled. “Wait right here. I’m just going to tell the young pup that you’re going home with me.”

You gripped his arm as he tried to stand. “Easy, old man. I didn't say I was going home with you,” you teased, knowing full well you were in fact leaving with him.

“Old man?” he smiled.

You shrugged. “You called me ‘doll’, which sounds like something an old man would say.”

“I think an old man is exactly what you need.” His eyes flashed with a deliciously dark promise that he was right and you’d enjoy every single inch of what he’d give you. “And you didn’t explicitly say you'd go with me, but we both know I’ve swayed you to go to my place.”

“You alphas are so cocky.” You refrained from rolling your eyes since he was right in this instance. “But maybe I should just stay here a bit longer and make you work for it since you want me so badly.”

He chuckled. “You’d rather stay here? Fine by me,” he said, leaning in close. “I’ll just slide my hand up your dress here and now and feel just how wet you are for me. I doubt anyone would notice if I made you come on my fingers. They’re too caught up in themselves.”

Your eyes closed when he touched your thigh. “You think I'm wet for you?”

“I know you are. I can smell it. Can practically taste it. You’ll let me taste you, won't you?” he purred, and you could only tremble as his hand moved higher, your legs parting to give him more access. “In fact, why don't I drag your ‘date’ over and let him watch while I lay you out and feast on your cunt? Show him what you'll never give him a taste of?”

You weren't sure if the pool of arousal was from the thought of Bucky eating you like a starved man, making that sad excuse for an alpha watch while he got you off, or both. You wondered what it would be like to taste yourself on his lips. “And why would you let him see what I look like when I come?”

He seemed to consider your question. “That’s a good point. He shouldn't see how you look when you come.” Bringing his hand to your face, your breath hitched when he caressed your cheek with such care. “But you’ll never have to hide that beautiful expression from me.”

“Hey!”

You pulled away from Bucky in time to see Chet storm over. “Shit,” you whispered when he furiously looked between you and Bucky. You were shocked smoke didn't come out of his ears.

“What the hell are you doing? I said enjoy the free booze, and do not embarrass me. You can't even follow a simple instruction,” he snapped. You refused to bare your neck when he showed his teeth. He wasn’t going to embarrass you either. “The only reason you can even step foot in this place is because of me. You fucking sl-”

Bucky was out of his seat before you could blink, his hand wrapped tight around Chet’s throat and cutting off the remainder of his insult. A few patrons gasped and stopped to watch as Chet clawed at Bucky's hand, but no one stepped in to help. The anger that poured off your alpha was enough to deter anyone from getting involved. And you were loving every second of it.

“She’s my mate,” Bucky said through his teeth, making Chet’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Biology may say you’re an alpha, but you’re nothing. And I’m tempted to crush your windpipe for insulting her.” He squeezed harder and smirked when Chet wheezed. “When her boss asks how the gala went, you’re going to sing her praises. If you don't, I’ll hunt you down and make sure you can never knot anyone ever again. And that’s just the start of what I'll do to you.”

It was almost humiliating how turned on you were by Bucky's dominant display. You thought you’d be an omega who wouldn’t want an alpha acting like, well, an alpha, yet his defense of you meant a lot. “Bucky.” You stood up and smiled when he looked at you, his anger shifting to something softer. “You can let him go.”

Chet fell to the ground and coughed once Bucky released him. Your alpha bared his teeth with a snarl and Chet showed his throat like an obedient dog. It was clear who the top alpha was.

“Apologize,” Bucky commanded. Not only did Chet cough out an apology while avoiding your gaze, a few others said “sorry” as well. That was how powerful this man was. And you wanted him more than anything.

“Thanks for the free booze, Chet. And don't worry about me getting a ride home. I think you should worry if that omega still wants you after your… performance,” you smiled, linking your arm with Bucky’s. “Have a great night.”

There was no need to fake your confidence as you and Bucky walked out together. It didn't matter at the moment what they thought of you. All you could think about was how Bucky defended you, and how he called you his mate. It was out in the open. He…

Oh, God.

“Thank you for defending me, but you do realize you just told everyone that I’m your mate, right?” you whispered. That gossip would spread before the night was over.

“Is that what I did?” he asked, smirking when you hissed and glared. “And you don’t need to thank me. He had it coming.”

The smirk was still on his handsome face as the valet brought his car around. What the hell were people going to say? He didn’t care what they thought and neither should you.

“Listen, Bucky, just because you…”

Bucky held your face in his hands, leaning in so close you felt his breath against your lips. His mouth barely grazed yours, carefully teasing you with the promise of what was to come. “Just because I what?” he rasped, and you swear you felt more slick stain your already ruined panties.

“You better get me off before we get to your place,” you said instead of finishing your original statement because you truthfully forgot all about it when his lips touched yours.

Your insides tinged with more heat and desire when he nipped your bottom lip. “You better say my name when I get you off.”

“Should I say Bucky or James?” you smirked.

“Bucky. Reserve the name James for when you’re upset or extremely serious,” he winked, thanking the valet before helping you into his vehicle. You had never been in a car this nice.

“And you won’t mark me tonight?” you asked once he got up, touching the back of your collar to make sure it was still secure.

“We still have a lot to figure out before I mark you,” he said, leaning over as you sighed in relief. “But before we go…”

His mouth landed on yours, both strong and soft as he took possession of yours. The entire gala could've gone up in flames and you wouldn't have noticed since all you felt was him. You tasted his hunger when his tongue plunged inside, and there was a hint of desperation, too. He was starving for you and you moaned, deepening the kiss to show that you were just as eager.

You panted when he broke the kiss. “Don’t make me regret trusting you,” you breathed, your eyes once again giving everything away.

His nose bumped yours affectionately as he dragged his lips to your forehead. You didn't expect such a fond gesture from him, and you had to bite your tongue so you wouldn't blurt out how nice a kiss to the forehead felt. “You won’t regret it,” he whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss against your skin.

Your heart felt full, and your inner omega wanted to shout with joy. “Take me home then.”

Bucky sped off a moment later, keeping his eyes on the road in front of him. Your core ached as you looked at him, giving you a chance to once again take in his profile. The saying of aging like fine wine probably rang true for him. You imagined he was always good looking, but he was both rough and refined thanks to his age. People who said perfection didn’t exist clearly never saw him before.

“You like what you see?” he asked.

“I do, but you know that,” you answered, his jaw clenching when you pulled your dress up to reveal your legs. “And didn’t you promise to get me off before we got to your place?”

The sexual tension that had been building up spiked, and you sensed his need to claim you in some capacity was rising to the surface. “Give me your panties,” he ordered, giving you a sharp look. “Now.”

“You’re bossy,” you smiled, pushing your dress higher. He swore under his breath when you gripped your underwear and slid it off, your slick practically dripping from the flimsy fabric. No one ever got you that wet before. “But I kind of like it.”

He chuckled, licking his lips. “You like it because it’s me,” he pointed out, snatching the underwear out of your hand once it was within reach. You watched with a whine as he brought it to his nose and deeply inhaled. “Fuck…” he growled, bringing the fabric to the tent growing in his pants next and rubbing all over it in a filthy display. Watching him ruin his pants with the scent and slick of your pussy had you soaking the seat beneath you. “Spread your legs and show me that pretty cunt.”

You trembled when he took his eyes off the road. Pulling your dress over your hips, you obediently spread your legs and let him get a good look at what would soon belong to him. “You like what you see?”

“Just wait until I tie you to my bed and get a real look before I fuck you. It’ll be a shame to wreck something so pretty, but you’ll thank me for it,” he replied, looking back at the road as he sped up. Oh, you’d thank him over and over. “Touch yourself, but don’t put your fingers inside.”

Bringing your hand between your legs, you gasped at how sensitive you were. It was like you were in heat, but fully aware of your surroundings. “Like this?” you asked, moving your fingers along your folds.

“Just like that,” he whispered, his gaze darting between you and the road. You hoped one day he’d fuck your throat while he drove. “Now give me your hand.”

You presented your glistening fingers to him, giving him the opportunity to grip your wrist and suck the wet digits into his mouth. You felt his mouth water from your taste, the groan of arousal in his throat making you shake. He didn’t stop until he licked your fingers clean. “You taste just as divine as you smell,” he said, releasing your hand and reaching over to cup your mound. “And I need more.”

“I need more, too,” you moaned, his palm rubbing your clit and building that ecstasy within you. He teased your dripping hole with another finger, but didn’t push inside yet. You arched your hips, trying to get him to breach you. “Please.”

“That’s a good girl saying please,” he praised, finally pushing a thick finger inside. You clenched around him so tight, your body wanting more. “Fuck, you’re tight. And wet. Made just for me. Imagine how good you’ll feel once you’re stretched around my cock.”

“Want your cock,” you moaned, opening your legs wider. “Want your big cock inside me.”

“Yeah, you do. You want my big, bare cock in your soaked cunt,” he said, pushing another finger in, your slick coating them. You didn’t let anyone fuck you bare before, but you’d let him. “You want my knot, too.”

You moaned, an image of you on your hands and knees flashing in your mind, Bucky’s strong hands pulling you back to meet every thrust until he locked your bodies in place. You could practically feel his teeth sinking into your neck to fully seal your fate. Or would he make love to you, linking your fingers together and kissing you with care as he tenderly pushed his knot in? It didn’t matter. He’d give you everything, and you wanted it all.

“Are you hard just thinking of fucking of me raw?” you moaned, the need to rip the top of your dress open to reveal your breasts strong. No… If your dress was going to get torn to shreds, he could do that himself. “Coming so deep inside me you’ll drip out of me days later?”

The next growl he let out was inhuman, his fingers curling until you cried out. “My good little omega has a dirty mouth on her,” he smirked.

“I do have a dirty mouth. You should fuck it sometime,” you smiled sweetly before your mouth fell open, his expert fingers fucking you deep. Talking dirty to him helped stamp down your emotions a bit, but they were threatening to surface the more he touched you. “Bucky.”

“That’s it. Say my name. Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded. Your back arched, gripping the leather seat until your hand ached. Your body certainly knew who owned you. “Tell me who’s going to take care of you.”

You bit your lip to hold back your whimper, your heart pounding out of control. No one took care of you. No one wanted to until tonight, and you hadn’t wanted that either.

He stopped moving his fingers, keeping perfectly still as you hissed in frustration. Was he really going to build you up and not let you finish? “Tell me,” he demanded again, gentler this time.

Your eyes burned, but you swallowed your pride. Again. “You, Bucky,” you whispered, trusting that he’d be an alpha of his word. “You'll take care of me.”

He cooed when you whimpered, slipping a third finger in and moving them again. “That’s my girl. My good omega. I know that wasn’t easy for you to say,” he praised, so proud of you. Part of you was proud of yourself, too. “Do you need to come?”

“Yes!” you cried out, desperately trying to ride his fingers as the pressure grew. You were so close. Just a little more…

“Then do it. Get that slick all over my hand and seat,” he said, pushing against your bundle of nerves once more as your body locked up. “And say. My. Name.”

Waves of pleasure rolled through you, colors blurring your vision as you cried his name. Your eyes rolled back as the squelching sound of your cunt filled the car, his fingers helping you ride it out. You were drowning, unable to breathe until you broke through the haze. You felt ruined already by his fingers. Oh, his cock was going to destroy you.

“Fuck, that’s it. Give it to me. That’s my good girl. Can’t wait to feel that all over my cock.”

He only removed his fingers when you whined and licked your essence away with a low moan. The beautiful bastard still looked so put together, and hadn’t swerved once while he drove. “Holy shit,” you exhaled, your walls still fluttering. The orgasm took the edge off while leaving you wanting more. “Did I… soak your hand?”

“You did,” he confirmed, your face hot. “Fuck, I’m going to need an entire weekend to eat your sweet cunt just to start,” he said, flashing you a smile. “And you make very pretty sounds when you come.”

You managed a smile as you slumped in the seat, your dress still bunched around your waist. “What do you sound like when you come?” you asked breathlessly.

“You’ll find out,” he promised.

You trembled again when he put his hand back on your thigh, your hand immediately covering his. You needed his touch to ground you, but didn’t want to say so. “I just realized something,” you said once you fully caught your breath.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“If you’re my mate but you haven’t marked me yet, and you plan to pay for… well, everything for me for the time being,” you said, a laugh bubbling up when you saw that your window was fogged up. You drew a little smiley face, making you laugh more before you glanced at him. “You’re kind of like my sugar daddy.”

The look on his face before he laughed made him look younger, the sound affectionate and happy. How many managed to make him laugh like that? “Does that mean you’re going to call me ‘Daddy’?”

“Don’t push it, old man,” you giggled. Though if anyone could sway you, it would be him. “Why don’t we just stick with ‘alpha’ for now?”

“That and Bucky,” he suggested, turning his hand so your palm rested against his. “I like hearing you say my name, doll,” he added in a whisper.

“I like saying your name, Bucky,” you said, your brows furrowing. “But who came up with that nickname?”

He chuckled again, your skin tingling when he lifted your hand to kiss it. “You don’t want to hear about that.”

“Yes, I do,” you said.

He stole a glance at you. Through the heavy scent of your orgasm, you detected joy seeping from him. It made you feel happy, too. “Okay,” he smiled, running his thumb along your hand. “I got the nickname a long time ago…”

You twisted more in your seat to face him as you listened, lost in his voice and smile. There was so much you had to learn about your alpha. His likes and dislikes. What he would be like before, during, and after his ruts. He had a lot to learn about you, too. You wouldn’t give up on your dream of becoming a designer, and accepting his help may not be such a bad thing.

And maybe accepting the fact that you had a mate to depend on wouldn’t be such a bad thing either.

So, what do we think so far? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #alpha!bucky barnes #alpha!bucky barnes x reader #alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader #silver fox!bucky barnes

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vbecker10 · 3 days ago

Note

Bucky comforting reader after a nightmare?🥺

You're Okay Doll, I'm Here

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N) established relationship

Summary: You have a nightmare while Bucky is away on a mission and he comes home just in time to comfort you.

A/N: Thank you so much for sending this request! I absolutely love it. I hope you enjoy it 💚

The second the jet lands, Bucky picks up his gear and stands at the rear door waiting impatiently for the ramp to lower. As soon as it begins moving, he waves to Steve and Natasha over his shoulder without turning to check if they are following him. "I'll do my part of the paperwork in the morning," Bucky tells his teammates.

"Sure, that works," Steve responds, his attention focused on the checklist in his hand. "Night Buck," he adds a moment later but by the time he looks up, his friend has disappeared into the Tower.

"I guess he's in a bit of a rush to see Y/N again," Natasha laughs lightly as she switches off the last computer system in the jet.

Bucky shifts his bag to his other shoulder and presses the button for the elevator, hoping it will come quickly. Once the button lights up, he looks down to check his phone, hiding a yawn behind his metal hand. It's just a little after three in the morning, almost two hours later than he originally told you they'd be home.

As usual, your boyfriend had texted you when the mission officially ended and the jet took off to bring him home.

------------------------------------------------

Y/N: Yay! ❤️ Can't wait to see you!

Bucky: I'm excited to see you too, beautiful. It's going to be late though, we're still about five hours away. It's okay if you fall asleep before I get back

Y/N: I won't, I just started a new book 😊

Bucky: Ahh, I see. You're not waiting up to see your amazing boyfriend, you just want to finish your new book

Y/N: Lol you figured me out 😆

Bucky: That's how well I know you. I'll see you in a few hours doll, I'm going to try and take a nap

Y/N: Can't wait! Enjoy your nap 🥱 have a safe flight ❤️

Bucky smiles at your last text then closes his eyes, folding his arms across his chest and resting his cheek on his shoulder. He breaths slowly, thinking about the plans you made for next weekend to help him relax. With a wide yawn, he stretches then slips off to sleep a few minutes later.

An hour into the flight, Bucky's jolted awake and nearly thrown from his seat in the rear of the jet by heavy turbulence. He opens his eyes, suddenly wide awake to the sound of thunder surrounding the jet. The super soldier looks towards Natasha and Steve who are focused on flying through the driving rain.

After discussing the unexpected weather with his teammates, Bucky returns to his seat in the rear of the jet. The three of them agreed the storm was too large and violent to fly directly through and follow the original flight path. The decision was made to fly around the storm, adding at least an hour but possibly more to the trip home.

Bucky sighs deeply, looking at his phone unsure of what to do as the sky lights up from a large streak of lightening. If he tells you about the storm and how much longer it will take to get back, you'll stay awake worrying about him. If he doesn't tell you and he doesn't come home when he was supposed to, you'll worry something happened. The last thing he wants to do is cause you any more stress so he decides to close his phone and hope you're asleep when he gets home. Maybe you won't even notice how late he is.

Bucky opens the door to your shared apartment quietly, not wanting to wake you if you had fallen asleep on the couch like you had several times in the past. The living room is dark expect for a small bit of light that shines from under the bedroom door. He knows the light doesn't mean you're still awake, you've fallen asleep with it on while reading plenty of times.

He takes off his jacket then kicks off his shoes and places his bag down by the door. Bucky walks silently through the living room without turning any of the lights on and heads straight for your bedroom.

As he gets closer he smiles to himself, remembering when he came home from a mission a few weeks ago and you were fast asleep. Bucky will never forget how absolutely adorable you looked curled up in the large bed, hugging his pillow tightly and wearing his favorite shirt. After a few moments of watching you from the doorway, he slipped carefully under the covers and pulled you into his arms. You sighed deeply when you felt his arms around you and he kissed your cheek and neck softly until you smiled and mumbled his name in your sleep. When you opened your eyes, you had the most beautiful smile and told him your dream came true.

Bucky reaches your bedroom door and listens for a moment to see if your still up reading. Instead of hearing a soft giggle or pages turning, he hears you groan and say something he can't quite make out. He pushes the door open, his eyes quickly adjusting to how bright the room is.

The lamp on your side of the bed is still on and a book lays open on the bed but it falls to the floor when you roll over quickly and yank on the sheets. It takes Bucky a moment to realize you're not trying to get comfortable, you're having a nightmare.

You squeeze your eyes closed tightly and breath heavily as your nightmare intensifies. "Bucky... come home," you mumble, kicking at the sheet as you scream those words in your dream.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed and tries to reach for you but you roll over once again, your legs now tangled in the sheet from trying to kick it away. He gently grabs ahold of the sheet and frees your legs so you don't make it worse, "Y/N, wake up." You don't respond to him or notice when he climbs onto the bed next to you.

"Please... come back..." you beg in your sleep as several tears land on Bucky's pillow. You turn your head and groan again in your sleep.

He moves closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and talking gently to you. "Wake up, baby you're having a nightmare," he tells you as he pulls you onto his chest and rubs your back.

You open your eyes suddenly, gasping as the images from your nightmare repeat in your mind. "Bucky..." you breath out his name and try to catch your breath.

Your body tenses at the sudden contact and he loosens his hold of you but doesn't let go completely. He can feel your shakey breathing and rapid heartbeat as your chest rests on his. He kisses the top of your head lightly and rubs your back again. "Y/N, open your eyes for me. You're having a bad dream, you need to wake up," he says a little louder to break through your deep sleep.

"You're okay doll, I'm here," he says, his arms hold you to his chest, letting you know he's really with you.

"You didn't come home," you tell him as your eyes fill with tears. You press your cheek against his chest and hug him back tightly.

He rubs your back in slow circles and kisses the top of your head several times. "I'm so sorry, we hit some rough weather and I didn't want to worry you," Bucky says, his heart breaking when he realizes he is the cause of your nightmare.

You look up at him, "Bucky, I always worry about you. I'm always afraid you're not going to come home."

He wipes away a tear that rolls slowly down your cheek then kisses your cheek lightly. You give him a small smile and he says, "I'm sorry I didn't text you. I know I should have but I'm always going to come home."

"You promise?" you ask, biting your lip nervously.

His fingers move under your chin and he tilts your head up so he can kiss your lips like he haa wanted to since he left you days ago. You kiss him back deeply, closing your eyes as his hand slides down your lower back. When he finally breaks the kiss, he smiles, "I promise Y/N. I may be late sometimes, but I will always come home to you, always."

You smile and place a quick kiss to his lips then rest your head on his shoulder. "You better, cause I really like you," you giggle and wait for his response.

"You really like me?" he repeats and you nod without lifting your head, smiling wider. "Well that's awkward cause I love you," he says.

"So awkward," you agree then jump as Bucky suddenly begins to tickle you. You giggle and squirm in his arms, trying to get away.

"Tell me you love me," he says with a smirk as he continues to tickle you.

You shake your head no but there's no escaping him. Bucky waits for you to lift your head so he can kiss your cheeks and nose, his fingers still tickling your body. "I... love... you," you manage to force those three words out between laughs and he smiles down at you, his hands now resting calmly on your back.

"That's better," he kisses your lips then reaches over and turns off the light. "Goodnight doll," you can hear the smile in his voice as he pulls the sheet back up around you both.

"Goodnight Bucky," you answer with a yawn as you curl up against him. You kiss his cheek and close your eyes, feeling more comfortable and relaxed than you have in days. His metal fingers run gently up and down your arm as you drift off to sleep.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did ❤️❤️ Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @multyunervisesuperfan @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @ash-muses @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @wolfsmom1 @sabspoetic @peaches1958 @catsladen @michellewgrt @crimson25 @jaidenhawke @mochie85 @itscomplicatedx @motherofmischief

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vunblr · 3 days ago

Text

Tangled (#2)

Pairing: Cecaelia! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Slight Angst. Fluff. Slow Burn. I don't know if there will be eventual teratophilia.

Summary: Between fear and fascination, a solitary creature struggles to protect his hidden world -and himself- after an unexpected encounter with a curious human woman makes him question everything he thought he knew about trust, danger, and boundaries.

Word Count: About 6.5k.

note: The Cecaelia is a mythical creature that's half-man, half-octopus, and that was the winning result of the poll about what kind of creature would be merman!Bucky. So yeah.

Previous Chapter

The next morning, she decided to switch things up. Maybe, going earlier would save her from another weird staring contest with the stranger from yesterday. So she packed her usual things -her project, a thermos, a snack- and threw on a light jacket before heading out. The air was crisp and salty, the sun still low and soft on the horizon, casting everything in golden light.

By the time she made it to her spot by the rocks, she was greeted by two small but satisfying victories.

First: no sign of him.

Second: the tide was low.

Very low.

The mouth of the cave yawned open before her, dark, cool, and tempting. She stood there for a moment, just listening to the rhythmic hush of the waves and the soft cries of seabirds above. The breeze tugged playfully at her hair as she scanned the shoreline, confirming what she had suspected, the tide was still receding. She had time.

Her gaze flicked back to the cave.

Maybe… she could finally take a proper look inside. If the locals were so set on being cryptic about the place, well, she could see for herself what the fuss was about.

Adjusting the straps of her backpack, she made her way carefully across the rocky terrain, taking her time to step only on firm, dry stones. Her shoes crunched softly against the pebbles as she went, and when she reached the cave’s entrance, she hesitated only briefly before ducking inside.

It was bigger than she thought.

Seawater pools clung to dips in the cave floor, catching the sunlight and scattering it across the rock like scattered coins. She trailed a hand along the rough wall, marveling at how nature shaped everything so perfectly.

God, this place was beautiful.

She wandered a few feet inside, careful to keep the brighter mouth of the cave within her sight, she wasn’t about to get herself lost in the dark, after all.

The deeper she went, the more she noticed little details, the way seaweed had been caught high in some places, as though pushed there by violent tides, the shimmer of shells wedged between stones, and even marks on the walls.

Scratches?

No… another kind of mark she couldn’t decipher.

----

Bucky was minding his business -lately, this meant trying to nap and failing- when the sound of footsteps echoing faintly through the stone reached his ears. His eyes snapped open, sharp and alert, and his pupils narrowed against the faint shaft of light filtering through the cave’s chimney.

Footsteps.

Too light to be a fisherman or some reckless teenager come to drink where they thought no one would find them.

No, this was different.

He pushed himself up slightly from where he’d been half-submerged in one of the deeper pools, and the water swirled softly around the dark coils of his limbs. His long hair, still damp from an early morning swim, clung to his shoulders as he turned toward the sound, tattooed fingers flexing against the rock's edge.

Then he heard it again, careful steps over the stones. Hesitant. Testing the ground like someone not used to walking there.

His jaw clenched. He knew who it was even before he heard the soft intake of breath that followed.

Her.

The one who kept coming to his shore. The one who dared to sit and hum and twist her strange threads in the sunlight like she belonged there.

He swore softly under his breath. What the hell was she doing now?

She’d never ventured this close. Never crossed into the mouth of his lair. Sliding silently beneath the surface, he moved closer to where the cave opened wide, staying in the deeper shadows, where the water was darkest and the light struggled to reach. Only his eyes remained above, sharp as a blade, watching her figure outlined against the sunlight spilling from the entrance.

She moved slowly, and wide-eyed, running her fingers along the walls -his walls- studying the cave like she had every right to be there. He felt something twist low in his gut, a mix of annoyance and... something else. Something that felt dangerously close to curiosity.

Didn’t she realize how stupid it was to wander into places she didn’t understand? His dark tendrils shifting restlessly in the water, echoing his unease.

She paused by one of the shallow pools, crouching to look at something glinting in the rocks. Shells or maybe bits of drift metal carried in by the tides, small things he sometimes kept and sometimes destroyed when he was in the wrong mood.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he watched her expression. Not fear, not yet. She didn’t know she wasn’t alone. A flicker of guilt assaulted him, uninvited. She wasn’t armed, wasn’t threatening. She looked... curious. Innocent, even.

But he knew better than to trust a human face.

He was used to watching her from a distance. Used to seeing her hands dance over her threads, hearing the soft sound of her voice when she hummed to herself.

But now?

Now she was here. Too close.

And as she straightened up and turned deeper into the cave, following the patches of light that filtered through cracks and chimneys, Bucky felt his chest tighten. What was he supposed to do with her? His fingers dug into the rock, and his muscles tensed under dark, storm-hued skin.

Maybe it was time to show her this wasn’t a place to wander.

----

When she started moving toward that alcove, -the one where her little seashell square hung, swaying gently on its line- something sharp and possessive twisted in Bucky’s chest.

No.

That was his now.

Without thinking much about it, he slid from the deeper shadows of his resting pool, moving swift and fluid along the rocky edge, like a shadow swallowed by darker ones. His lower half gripped the slick stones as he glided over them, slipping noiselessly into another pool closer to her path.

Hidden beneath the surface, only his eyes above the waterline, he watched as she hesitated, scanning the alcove’s uneven walls with quiet wonder.

She was too close.

His fingers curled over the rim of the pond, the dark tattooed lines on his arm twisting as his grip tensed. And then, he hissed.

Low, sharp, and deliberate.

The sound slithered through the cavern like a living thing, bouncing off the rock, and gaining depth and weight as it echoed through the chambers. She froze mid-step. She turned around slowly, all wide eyes as she scanned the shadows, the pools, the craggy walls.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, uncertain.

Bucky said nothing, keeping still as stone. She stepped back, brushing the cave wall lightly with her hand, as if for support. But that was all. She wasn’t running. She wasn’t screaming. Just standing there, scanning the dim light, with her mouth pressed in a thin line.

He stayed hidden, with his body almost perfectly blended with the dark water and stone. Watching. Studying.

She lingered another minute, wrapping her arms loosely around herself as if trying to convince herself that the hiss -that low, sharp thing slithering through the cavern- had been nothing. Just some natural sound of the sea moving through the rocks.

With a slow exhale, she wisely turned on her heel and started her march toward the exit, cautiously stepping over the slick stone.

But fate, of course, wasn’t on her side.

Her foot slipped on a patch of algae-slick rock, and before she could even yelp, she went down hard, landing with a splash in a pool she hadn't noticed before.

“Shit!” she gasped, as the cold water soaked her jeans instantly.

The splash echoed off the cavern walls, bouncing sharp and loud through the space. And that sudden, chaotic movement, the crash of her body into the water, the way her hands scrambled to push herself back up, startled something.

From across the pool, where the water dipped into shadow, the rocks seemed to shift. Her eyes caught on the movement, as the illusion of stone melted away, like mist burning under the sun. There, clinging to the rocks, was him.

Not a shadow. Not a trick of the light.

A man, pale and tattooed, with long dark hair plastered against his shoulders, and wide blue eyes locked on her with equal parts shock and anger.

But it wasn’t just a man.

Where legs should’ve been, his body changed, and thick limbs -deep blues and blacks shifting like oil- curled and rippled over the stones, some half-submerged, others coiled for balance. She could see suction cups running along the underside of a few, clinging effortlessly to the wet rock. The tips flicked and twitched, betraying tension and irritation.

For a long heartbeat, neither of them moved.

What-

He looked just as surprised as she was, like he hadn’t expected to reveal his position, to startle. Then, like a storm cloud pulling itself together, his expression darkened. He tilted his head slightly as if assessing how dangerous she was now that his secret was laid bare.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

The creep in the waves, she thought, as her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. Only… not quite the kind of creep she’d expected. No, this was paranormal-weird. A fucking living, breathing fairy tale was perched just a few feet away, staring her down like she had personally eaten the last of his cereal.

They just… kept staring at each other.

She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his tattooed arm flexed and braced against the rock like he was ready to launch himself forward. His inhuman lower half -those tendrils, massive and sleek in stormy blues and black- gripped the rock tightly, suction cups shifting and adjusting as if they couldn’t quite decide between holding steady or moving closer.

He was uneasy.

But she was very sure he could sense her unease too.

Her brain spun wildly, running in circles like a hamster in an out-of-control wheel. A male cecaelia? A fucking octopus man, just a short walk from her house? A goddamn myth glaring at her like she had just walked into his living room uninvited. Which, technically, she had.

Okay, okay… don’t freak out…

She swallowed thickly, trying to keep her face neutral, though she was pretty sure her wide eyes were betraying every last thought. She flicked a glance to the nearest rocks, desperately scanning for an escape route. If she could get up without slipping again, and if she could make it out before he decided to drag her back under…

Her stomach churned.

Because unlike a fish-tailed mermaid or triton, this guy didn’t need the water. Those muscular tendrils looked more than capable of hauling his heavy body across the rocks, and the way they were shifting now, gripping and testing, made her feel all kinds of not safe.

If he decided she was a threat -or worse, prey- she had no illusions about being able to outrun him on that slippery surface. He could snap her neck or trap her and pull her under the water before she even got to her feet.

Feigning death? Not an option. She wasn’t a possum, and he didn’t look like he’d fall for it.

Her thoughts tumbled in panic, but something in his eyes -that strange stormy blue, watching her so intently- made her pause. There was hesitation there. Like he wasn’t sure what to do with her, either.

So, she did the only thing she could think of.

The polite, and incredibly stupid thing.

She raised her hand -fingers trembling slightly- and waved.

“Um… hi there.”

Her voice cracked a little on the last word, but she managed to get it out.

Carefully, without taking her eyes off him, she pushed herself up to sitting, legs still half-submerged in the cold pool, and bracing her palms on the rocks to stop from sliding again. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. But she kept her chin up, watching him watch her, waiting to see what the hell came next.

He didn’t move at first. He just stared, slightly narrowing his crystal-shaded blue eyes, with blown wide pupils in the dim light of the cave.

What… what kind of human waved at a creature like him? He understood her mistaking him for a man the day before, but now?

His sharp gaze swept over her face as if searching for something. Maybe she hit her head when she fell. Yeah, that had to be it. Otherwise, why would she be sitting there, soaked and trembling, but still raising a hand at him like they were having some casual chat over the weather?

His lips curled slightly, baring his sharp teeth, and a low, guttural hiss escaped his throat before he could even think about it.

She flinched -a visible, whole-body jerk- and Bucky felt a grim flicker of satisfaction. Good. Maybe now she realized what kind of danger she was in. But to his surprise, she didn’t scream. She didn’t scramble for the exit or try to throw something at him, both of which he would’ve expected.

Instead, she lifted her hands in a slow, careful gesture, palms out, like she was trying to calm a wild animal. Maybe she was.

“I- I mean no harm,” she said, with measured words like she didn’t want to spook him. Her hands stayed up, placating, trembling just slightly. "I’ll leave," she added, her gaze never leaving his, though he could see the rapid flicker of her eyes as they tracked the way his tendrils shifted and tensed against the rocks.

Bucky’s head tilted, sharp and predatory, watching her mouth as she spoke. He could understand her words. The meaning was there, swimming somewhere in the mess his mind had become.

But speaking back? That was another matter.

Once, long ago, he could speak like any human. Could hold conversations, ask questions, and give warnings. But now the words tangled, twisted up in the shadows of his mind, caught in the wreckage of what they had done to him. Thinking about them made something sharp and dark coil in his chest. His pupils narrowed.

Without meaning to, he slid forward a little, muscles rippling under pale skin as his tendrils dragged him closer, silent and smooth against the stone.

Her eyes widened slightly, and she instinctively leaned back, pressing her palms into the slick rock as if ready to push herself away, but she didn’t move. Not yet.

Every instinct in him screamed not to let her leave. She had found his lair, seen him. No human had gotten this close to him and walked away in… he couldn’t even remember how long.

Letting her go felt wrong. Dangerous. But…

Her eyes weren’t filled with the kind of hatred and greed he was used to, nor calculation. No net. No spear. No sharp weapons. Only those trembling hands and careful words. His gaze flicked to her legs, still half-submerged in the shallow pool. If he reached just a little further, he could drag her back, down into the water where she wouldn’t be able to run-

His claws scraped lightly against the stone, and the sound echoed faintly in the cave. He knew he was scaring her, could smell the sharp tang of fear on her skin. And yet… she wasn’t running away.

Maybe because she understood she couldn’t. But instead of scrambling away or begging, she drew in a shaky breath and tried something else.

"Look…" she started, "I didn’t mean to bother you. I didn’t even know you were-" She hesitated, darting her eyes briefly to his glimmering tendrils before snapping back to his face. "Here."

She swallowed and lifted her hands again, as if he needed more proof that she wasn’t a threat. "I wasn’t looking for you. I was just curious about the cave. You-" another pause, her brow furrowed, searching for words that wouldn't anger him. "You live here, right?"

Bucky’s jaw tensed, sharp teeth flashing for the briefest second as his mouth twitched into something that wasn’t quite a snarl but wasn’t friendly either.

He shifted forward again, slow and deliberate, and the water slid over his skin and tendrils with a quiet hiss. She stiffened as he moved, but didn’t retreat, watching him wide-eyed.

He tilted his head again, and for a moment she thought he might just keep glaring in silence. But then he opened his mouth as if to speak, and nothing came out but a low, broken rasp, like a breath caught on something sharp. His brows furrowed, frustrated, and his lips parted again, trying to form the words tangled in his head.

"Why..." It came out rough, the echo of a voice long unused.

He shifted closer, water dripping from his hair as he leaned slightly to one side, circling her, as if testing, watching how she reacted to every inch he gained.

"Why… here?" he finally managed. His voice was low and hoarse like it hurt to speak. His eyes pinned her, demanding an answer.

She blinked at him, surprised that he had spoken at all, but the question was clear enough.

"I-I just was curious about the place," she answered honestly, lowering her hands slightly now that she saw he was at least trying to communicate. "I moved to the cottage up the hill. I didn’t know this was your home."

Her eyes darted to the water where his tendrils swayed and curled with tension.

"I can stay away if you want," she added, softer.

Bucky watched her in silence, tilting his head slightly as if weighing her words. She could see his throat working, as though he wanted to speak again but couldn’t force the words out.

Still, he crept a little closer, tendrils rising slightly out of the water, black and blue slick shapes moving with that unsettling, liquid grace, like living shadows.

She swallowed hard, watching him shift, seeing the way his muscles moved beneath pale skin, the long dark hair falling over his shoulders in wet strands. He was... too close now. Close enough that she could see how the water slid off his skin, how sharp the lines of his jaw were, how inhumanly still he could go, like a predator assessing prey.

Her mind raced, trying to piece together anything that would make sense of this encounter. Maybe she could reason with him? Offer something, anything in exchange for her safe retreat?

Her fingers trembled as she carefully slid the backpack off her shoulder, keeping her movements slow, and deliberate, showing him she wasn’t reaching for a weapon.

“Um...” she cleared her throat, forcing herself to speak, though her voice was uneven. “I can give you what I brought with me... if you want.”

She opened the flap of the bag and hesitated for a heartbeat before reaching in. The colorful yarn spilled between her fingers, reds and oranges mostly, bright and warm against the grey light filtering through the cave’s chimney. She held it out awkwardly as if offering a peace token to some ancient god of the deep.

His eyes, flicked from her face to the yarn in her hand.

She tried to smile, though her lips felt stiff and dry. “You... want it?” she asked quietly. “You can have it. I’ll just... go.”

Stillness.

His gaze returned to her, dark lashes lowering slightly, as if thinking. Or weighing.

And then, he shifted. His body undulated with a slow, contained force as he slid a little closer, tendrils curling and uncurling at his sides like restless snakes.

Her breath hitched.

But instead of lunging or attacking, one of those black and blue limbs uncurled, hesitating mid-air before reaching out toward the yarn.

She stayed very still, with her heart thudding painfully as she watched the tip of the tendril brush lightly against the threads.

Still, she took the chance to speak again, softer now, like trying to soothe a wild animal. “I don’t mean any harm,” she whispered. “I didn’t know this was your place. I’ll go, alright? I won’t bother you again.”

His gaze flicked from the dripping yarn in his grasp back to her, sharp and assessing.

She swallowed, holding herself still, watching as he studied the mess of threads. The yarn was already soaking wet, clinging to itself in limp strands, and for a moment he just looked at it, frowning slightly, as if puzzling over its nature.

Then, she saw the way his brows pulled tighter, as the realization dawned in his sharp gaze. It was useless like this, just raw material. His tendrils flexed, curling tighter and then unfurling in a slow, almost thoughtful motion.

When he lifted the dripping yarn again, something flickered across his face. A decision. He moved closer now -gliding with that unsettling, fluid grace- and she instinctively stiffened as the water rippled from his advance. But he didn’t lash out. Instead, he extended the yarn back to her, holding it out.

She blinked in confusion, hesitating before accepting it carefully, as though she was unsure if it was a trap.

Then came a sound, low, rough, like something long-forgotten being forced out of his throat. “…Make.”

Her eyes darted up to him, frowning slightly, unsure she had heard right.

“What?” she asked quietly, as if speaking too loud might break the fragile truce between them.

His tendril twitched, wiggling the yarn in her hand, insistently.

“…Make.” He said again, with a scratchy voice. She could see frustration flickering across his features, clenching his jaw as he struggled to articulate more.

“You…” she clenched her fingers slightly around the yarn- “You want me to craft something for you?”

The way his body stilled, then the sharp nod that followed -curt, and decisive- confirmed her guess.

But before she could say anything else, before she could even think of agreeing, his voice rasped out again, harsher this time.

“No... spi—spells.”

Her eyes widened slightly. His tendrils curled tighter, and she saw the tension in his body, as though even the thought of her weaving some enchantment into a craft unsettled him.

She lifted her free hand slowly, palms out in a placating gesture.

“No spells,” she promised gently, watching his reaction carefully. “Just…” she looked down at the yarn in her hand, “Just yarn. Nothing else.”

His eyes stayed on her for a long moment as if trying to read the truth through every line of her body. Then, with a sharp exhale that might’ve been a grudging acceptance, he let his tendrils slide back into the water, though he remained close, watching.

She swallowed again. “All right,” she said quietly, clutching the yarn to her chest as if that fragile agreement between them had some weight. “I’ll make you something.”

Still, he watched, unmoving, as though waiting to see if she’d keep her word.

And, maybe because she was reckless or because something in his gaze wasn’t entirely threatening anymore, she gave a small nod.

“I’ll bring it when it’s done.”

The moment the words left her lips, she knew she had said the wrong thing.

Because his eyes narrowed, sharp and unyielding, and before she could take a step back, he moved. Effortless, like a shadow sliding over stone, he surged forward, out of the water.

She gasped, stumbling a half step back as he rose up, tendrils unfurling and curling along the slick rocks as he dragged himself fully from the pool. Water streamed down the pale skin of his human half, muscles shifting under scarred flesh, and she couldn’t help but notice how solid he was, how much bigger than she had thought. If those massive tendrils below his hips were legs, and he stood at full height…

He moved with unsettling grace, positioning himself squarely between her and the only exit she had. The soft slap of his tendrils against the stone echoed ominously, and her heart was suddenly thundering in her chest again.

He was blocking her way out.

Her fingers tightened instinctively around the damp yarn, and her pulse raced as he stared her down.

“Here,” he hissed. His gaze was unblinking, cold as the sea.

She swallowed, watching as one of his tendrils lifted to tap the yarn, insistently.

“Make. Here.”

Oh, he didn’t trust her. Of course, he didn’t.

Why should he? She had wandered right into his lair, trespassed into the most private corner of his world. What reason would he have to believe she'd come back, or not run straight to town blabbering about a sea monster living in the cliffs?

She licked her lips, with her throat suddenly dry, her eyes darting from his looming form to the narrow path that led out, now completely cut off.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice a little shaky. "Okay. I get it." She kept her hands slow, deliberate, as she crouched down on a drier patch of rock, her gaze flicking up to him as if asking for permission.

He watched her like a hawk, tendrils shifting slightly against the ground as though ready to react to the smallest wrong move.

Her fingers fumbled slightly as she dug into her backpack for her hook, small and harmless, but she could feel the way his gaze latched onto it, tracking the glint of metal with suspicion.

“It’s… it’s just for the yarn,” she murmured, showing him the crochet hook in the flat of her hand before she picked up the sodden threads.

She exhaled, long and slow, trying to calm the tremble in her fingers as she looped the yarn and began to work, her mind racing even as her hands found familiar movements.

Crochet. Right. He wanted her to make something, here, now. She needed to make something fast. Something that looked impressive enough to satisfy him, but simple enough to be done before the tide decided to join them in the cave.

A jellyfish.

The thought flickered in her mind like lightning.

Last year, she had made dozens of them — some as little hanging decorations, some flat like coasters, cute and simple. The design was burned into her memory. Bright colors, curly tentacles. Easy.

Perfect.

She swallowed, adjusting her grip on the yarn and pulling her hook through the loops with more confidence now, as muscle memory took over. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him.

He was still coiled protectively between her and the exit, but now he seemed… fixated. Watching her hands, the way the thread looped and twisted under her fingers.

Her mind raced as her fingers worked the damp yarn, still feeling the weight of his stare, unrelenting, sharp, and far too close.

And then, slowly, he inched closer.

Closer.

Way too close.

By the time she was halfway done with the main body of the jellyfish, his face was mere inches from hers, darting his eyes between her concentrating expression and her hands. She tried to pretend her heart wasn’t slamming against her chest, but it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the way his tendrils had crept silently over the rocks to surround her, some of them curling and uncurling near her feet, others bracing close to her sides like dark, living ropes.

For a creature that didn’t trust her, he clearly had no concept of personal space. She wet her lips nervously but didn’t stop working, feeling the heat of his gaze following every flick and twist of her fingers. “You know,” she murmured, not daring to look directly at him, “for someone so wary… you’re really not giving me a lot of room here.”

She risked a glance up, and for a fleeting second, she thought she saw a flicker of something in his eyes, amusement? Or maybe just sharper curiosity. His tendrils flexed against the rock, shifting slightly closer. One of them slid forward and she nearly flinched, but it didn’t touch her. No, it reached for the trailing end of yarn, brushing the thread lightly, as though testing the texture.

He made a low sound in his throat, almost like a hum, flicking his eyes from the yarn to her face and back again.

Her hands kept working, faster now, shaping the last round before starting the dangling "tentacles”: a few quick chains and curls, loose and wavy, the way jellyfish tendrils floated underwater.

"I’m making a jellyfish, by the way," she said quietly, filling the silence between them. "Not sure what you'll do with it down here, but-” She glanced at him, seeing how his brows furrowed slightly, as though trying to grasp her words. "But," she added gently, "you didn’t say what you wanted, so… this is what you’re getting."

Still, no answer. Just those sharp, blue, and way too focused eyes on her face. She tried to ignore how close he was. How she could see the faint shimmer of water on his skin, the way his dark hair clung to his temples. Almost done. Just a few more loops.

"If I finish this and give it to you," she murmured, working through the last stitch, "you’ll let me go, right?"

One of his tendrils curled slowly near her ankle, and she tensed before it retreated again, but he didn’t answer.

The final loop tightened under her hook, and she carefully turned the jellyfish over in her hands. It wasn’t her best work, but considering the circumstances? Pretty damn good. She held it up with slightly trembling fingers and finally met his gaze.

"Here," she whispered. "It’s for you."

For a long, heavy moment, he didn’t move.

Then one of his tendrils reached forward -slow, deliberate- and wrapped around the little yarn creature, lifting it gently from her hands. He held it delicately, looking at the bright red and orange yarn, wet but still vivid, which seemed almost to pulse in the dim light of the cave.

Her breath caught.

Was it enough?

His eyes flicked back to her, sharp and unreadable, before returning to the soft thing in his hold. Then, slowly, he brought it closer. He touched it with his hand, testing its weight and texture, making the curled tendrils bounce softly with his fingers. The way his clawed fingertips brushed over the loops of yarn was almost… reverent, like someone handling an unknown relic.

And when he lifted it to his face and sniffed it, she blinked in surprise. He made a low, thoughtful sound, something like a rumble deep in his chest, before glancing up toward the alcove where the seashell square hung. Not that she knew about it.

She didn't dare to move yet, holding her breath as his dark gaze returned to her, assessing, cold and sharp, and yet... there was something else there too.

Finally, with a rough, almost reluctant tone, he said, "Leave."

She didn't need to be told twice.

"Right. Leaving. Thanks," she mumbled, starting to push herself to her feet.

But as soon as she moved, pain shot up her leg and she stumbled with a sharp intake of breath, catching herself awkwardly on a slick rock. She heard him exhale a frustrated, almost growling sound.

And before she could even react, he was moving, fast and smooth despite his bulk.

Tendrils lashed out, wrapping around her waist, and before she could yelp properly, he hoisted her like she weighed nothing, slinging her over one broad shoulder in a way that knocked the air out of her lungs.

"What the-?! Hey!"

But he was already moving, crawling effortlessly across the rocks, with his powerful limbs and tendrils gripping surfaces with frightening ease.

She realized, squirming a little but not daring to struggle much, that he was carrying her toward the cave's exit, toward the open shore.

Despite the rush of fear and surprise, part of her brain registered the strength it took to lift her like this but he was using one arm and one tendril to support her, coiling firmly but not painfully around her, while he moved fluid and controlled.

When they reached the mouth of the cave, bathed in the cold morning light, he set her down, still holding her tightly with the tendril on her waist. She realized he wasn’t letting go. She barely had a moment to catch her breath before one strong hand cupped her face,pressing along her cheek and jaw, tilting her head to face him directly.

His eyes burned into hers, too close, too sharp.

"No one," he growled, like the sound of stones grinding together.

Her heart hammered.

"I- I won’t," she breathed, eyes wide.

His brow furrowed, searching her face for any sign of a lie, and for a long, tense moment, they simply stared at each other.

Then, with a final squeeze on her waist, -reminding her just how easily he could break her if he wanted- he let her go.

She stumbled back a step, watching him as he slowly retreated into the shadows of the cave, taking her jellyfish with him like a strange prize.

----

Once alone, he slipped back into the shadows, feeling the cool kiss of the water as he submerged into his favorite pond again.

But for once, the calm he usually found there didn’t come. The little jellyfish dangled from his hand, dripping seawater, with its soft yarn tendrils swaying gently with the motion of his arm.

He lifted it again, inspecting it closer now that the human was gone.

Red and orange, bright like the creatures that danced in the deep where no human dared to go. It shouldn’t exist here, among these dull coastal grays and browns, but maybe that’s why he liked it. It reminded him of things from the trenches of the sea, strange, delicate, and dangerous all at once.

With careful fingers, he turned it, watching how the thin tendrils curled and bounced with every shift, and for a moment he wondered, how did she know how these creatures were? And, did she guess what might catch his eye, or was it just luck?

His gaze drifted to the alcove where the seashell square still hung, weathered and faded from salt and air. Frowning thoughtfully, he slithered from the pool and grabbed another thin piece of fishing line. Working deftly, he tied the jellyfish, letting it dangle beside the square, and the breeze filtering through a vent stirred both pieces gently.

The tendrils danced, twisting and swaying as if alive, and something about that made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t understand or didn’t want to.

She had made this for him, even if coaxed.

And true to her word, it didn’t reek of magic, no strange tingling in the fibers, no shimmer of spells on its surface. Just simple human craft. He stared at it, folding his arms over the edge of the alcove and resting his chin on his wrist, watching the little creature spin lazily in the wind.

After a while, he found his thoughts drifting back to her, the way she’d stared at him, wide-eyed but trying to stay calm. The way she’d carefully spoken to him in a soft, and unsure voice.

Her face, her eyes.

Pretty.

He huffed to himself, irritated at the thought.

Pretty, for a human. Not that it mattered.

Still…

His brow furrowed.

Did she have a mate?

The question rose before he could stop it, crawling at the edge of his mind. Maybe someone waiting in that lair on the cliff? A male that would come looking if she didn’t return one day?

But then again...

If she had a mate, why would she spend so much time alone, sitting by his rocks, working with her strange threads? His tendrils twitched restlessly against the stone.

It wasn’t his business.

He firmly told himself that, squeezing the edge of the alcove a little too tightly. She was just a reckless human. One he should’ve scared off properly.

And yet, when the jellyfish spun again in the breeze, he watched it, and behind his eyes, he saw her hands moving, and her lips parting as she worked.

----

By the time she reached the cottage, her legs were trembling, partly from the cold of her soaked clothes, and partly from the leftover adrenaline rushing through her veins. The door slammed shut behind her, and she pressed her back to it, breathing hard, as if expecting him to have followed her all the way there.

But, of course, he didn’t.

She winced as she bent to take off her jeans, feeling the forming bruise at the base of her spine, joining the throbbing of her leg from where she’d landed in that stupid pond. "Great. Add that to my collection of regrets."

Once free of the wet clothes, she wrapped herself in a soft towel, padding barefoot to the bathroom to start the shower, replaying the whole encounter.

A cecaelia.

She knew the folklore. Old stories and whispered warnings of half-man, half-octopus creatures that lurked in the deep, dragging sailors under the sea, charming swimmers to their deaths, or seducing them into the dark.

Not that she ever believed those tales. Until today.

And God, even furious and unfriendly as he was, he was painfully, otherworldly handsome, in a way that made her stomach twist uncomfortably. She didn’t want to think how could it be to look at those features when they decided to charm instead of being hostile.

She turned her back to the mirror as she waited for the water to heat, rubbing absently at her bruised backside, but her mind wouldn't stop spinning. She could understand now why those old tales spoke of these creatures luring humans to them. There was something magnetic about him, even if she didn't want to admit it.

But...

If he really wanted to hurt her, he could have.

He could’ve crushed her throat, or dragged her under the water until she stopped breathing, hell, he had carried her like she weighed nothing at all. First slung over his broad shoulder, holding her tight with his arm, and then later, when his tentacles wrapped her waist and lifted her to her feet, holding her firm as if she were a doll.

But instead, he had trusted, and warned her off. No one, he said, the words harsh and rough on his tongue.

Because if she talked… if people knew something was living out there, how long before curious fishermen came with nets? Before reporters descended on the town, or researchers, trying to trap him, study him? Or worse?

All he wanted was to be left alone. And she -stupidly- had wandered straight into his home, poking around like some tourist in a forbidden place.

She sighed, finally stepping into the shower, letting the hot water pound her skin, washing away the salt and the fear. But even as the warmth soaked into her muscles, she couldn’t stop thinking of the way his tentacles had flexed when he watched her work, how close his face had gotten when he stared at her like he was trying to figure her out.

And then she wondered, what parts of the old stories were true.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @civilbucky @thatesqcrush @lonelyghosts-stuff @x-press-it @the-voice-beckons-below @angelilacsworld @dollface-xoxo @mcira

dividers by @/strangergraphics

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #merman! Bucky #cecaelia! Bucky #cecaelia

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em1i2a3 · 22 hours ago

Text

Party 4 U

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI, Swearing, Established Causal Relationship Between Bucky and Reader, Avengers live in the tower all together. Smut; Dirty Talk, Fingering, Rough Sex, Light Choking, Biting, Overstimulated Bucky and Reader, Unprotected P in V sex (Wrap wrap wrap it up!), A hint of aftercare because aftercare is hot :D

Author's Note: Thought I’d do something a bit lighter than my other one-shots I’ve been working on (they’re all very long, so I’m trying to give my brain a break to write happy little stories!). I thought this would be the perfect time to write something based off of Bucky’s birthday since it was last week! I know it’s a bit late, but I did my licensing exam that day and I have been reeling from the passing mark, and celebrations really crowded my time lol. Anyways! I hope you guys enjoy!! And thank you so much for all the love you guys gave to ‘My Desire,’ do not fret, I will give y’all that little continuation (currently have it on my writing list :))

Word Count: 12,241

“I’m not going to let you go until you agree that you’re not going to throw me a party.” Bucky insisted, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you against him as you tried to playfully break away from his broad half naked body, your shirt riding up in the process, exposing your lacy underwear. He leaned his chin on your chest, staring up at you, admiring the fact that you thought you were going to be able to get out of his trap without agreeing to what he said.

”Bucky, I gotta meet Stark, you have to let me go.” He smirked, his blue eyes glistening slightly in the lighting of his room, darting all over your face before leaning in to give you a gentle kiss, his hands grabbing onto your butt, kneading the flesh beneath his palms, earning a sigh from you. He pulled away for a moment.

”There’s absolutely no way you’re meeting with Stark, there’s too much opportunity to plan a party.” He joked, peppering kisses along your face. You laughed at the wetness of his lips, bringing your hands up to his cheeks, caressing them, his eyes returning to yours, a hazy smile pulling up onto his face as his stubble scraped against your palms.

“You’re the only person that I know who doesn’t enjoy celebrating their birthday.” You replied, shifting on his lap, earning a small hum, the warmth of you pressing against his boxer shorts, feeling the muscles of his thighs flexing beneath you.

“Doll…When you’re turning an age that makes it look like the cake is on fire because of how many candles you need to put on it, birthdays really become a let down.” He explained, as you trailed your hand up to his hair, pushing the damp strands back out of his face.

“Well, that’s why we are just going to put the numbers on it instead of a bunch of candles.” You joked, your fingers tracing across his lips. Bucky let out a small rumbling laugh, his tongue darting out to lick the tips of them playfully.

”You’re absolutely relentless.” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your palm, “You really want to celebrate me that badly huh?” You could feel your heart skip a beat, your stomach fluttering from his words.

”I mean, someone’s gotta make you feel special. Might as well be me.” You replied, shrugging at him, your hand returning to his cheek, scratching at the stubble.

”You always make me feel special though.” He replied, quietly. You smiled at him, giving him a small kiss on his lips.

”Guess I better keep my track record going then hmm?” You could see his cheeks blush a dull red, as he shook his head, his fingers brushing along your thigh, skimming the lace of your underwear.

”You’re really not going to give up?” He asked, his eyebrows raising at you.

”I think you know me better than that, Bucky.” He let out a long sigh.

”I’m in a casual fling with a menace.” You grinned at his comment, leaning in, his breath hitting your lips.

”Takes one to know one.” Bucky narrowed his eyes, his arms tightening around you even more, just to make sure you didn’t forget the situation you were in.

“Just remember you have to somehow escape this to be able to plan your little party.” You tilted your head back slightly, tapping a finger against your lips.

”Hmm…I’m pretty sure I can manage.” You quipped, bringing your fingers over his thick shoulders, tracing down the ridges in his skin. Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but that was when you struck. In one swift movement you brought your hand down to the sensitive spot right below his ribs, pressing into it, tickling him. He yelped, his body jerking involuntarily, his grip on you loosening just enough so you could slip off his lap, and off the bed. A victorious smirk draped on your lips as the look of shock came onto his face.

”Did you just-“

“It’s pretty easy to know where you’re ticklish Bucky, I’m very observant.” You cut in, giving him a wink, grabbing your sweatpants off the ground, and quickly shimmying into them.

”I’ll get you back for this. Don’t worry.” He warned. You smiled at him.

”I’m sure you will,” You replied, tying the strings of the sweatpants as you opened his door, “I’ll see you later?” You asked, eyebrows raised, watching him closely, seeing the way he fought back a smile.

”…Yes.” You grinned at the way he responded under his breath.

”Good.” You said softly, slipping out from the room, closing the door behind you, still feeling your body buzzing from the aftershocks of your little evening rendezvous. You barely made it three steps before you spotted Natasha leaning against the wall, watching you with an amused expression, her arms crossed over her chest.

”What?” You asked, feeling your cheeks heat up under her gaze.

”You two never cease to amaze me with how much sex you can have in one day.” She commented, you let out a small laugh.

”Come on, it’s not THAT much.” You shot back, causing her to raise her eyebrows.

”Yeah? Let me rifle off the list of just today, you guys took a shower together…”

”Hey, we just do that to save water.” You interrupted, “And because it’s nice when someone can reach your back.” Natasha shook her head.

”Then you guys ran off to ‘train’, now you just came out of his room. You guys are like bunny rabbits.” You laughed a bit, scratching the back of your neck.

”I mean…Can you blame him? He’s making up for lost time.” Natasha snorted.

”Lost time?” You shrugged, feigning innocence.

”Y’know, the seventy-plus years where he was either frozen, brainwashed, or avoiding human interaction?” Natasha huffed out a laugh, shaking her head at you.

”Right, because obviously, the best way to make up for decades of trauma is to rail your girlfriend at every possible opportunity.” You smirked.

”Hey, I’m just doing my civic duty to the country to keep Bucky Barnes happy and stable.” Natasha laughed.

”Happiness is one thing. You two go at it like you’re training for the Olympics.” You pressed your palms against your face, feeling the heat in your cheeks.

”Are we really still talking about my sex life over here?” Natasha shrugged.

”The whole team talks about it. Clint calls you two ‘Barnes and Noble’ because of how much time you spend in each other’s rooms…That and you guys don’t really keep your little sexcapades a secret.” You sighed.

”Fantastic…Well…I have to go get Bucky’s birthday present from Tony, so hopefully you guys will get a much needed break from us.”

————

By the time you reached Tony’s lab he had been waiting for over twenty minutes, leaning against his workbench, sipping coffee from his mug, slurping loudly to annoy you.

”You’re late,” He remarked, “Got distracted?” You sighed, walking over to the workbench, taking a seat on one of the stools.

”Of course I did. But you would know that because you probably saw me stumbling out of Bucky’s room on the cameras.” He held his hands up in defence.

”Hey hey, I’m not that concerned about you and the soldier frolicking around like two teenagers. You’re both adults…Well, he’s technically a fossil, but still. You’re free to do whatever you’d like.” You let out a small laugh.

“Sure…Sure,” You sighed, looking at the content strewn about the workbench, your eyes falling on the long black velvet box with a silver bow on it, “Is this it?” You asked, pointing at it before picking it up.

”Yep, straight from Wakanda, pulled a few strings for you so you could get the best of the best for him.” You dragged your fingers across the velvet box, “I did the engraving for you.” He added, as you cracked it open, your breath hitching in your throat. It was everything you had described.

Inside, nestled against the silk black lining, was a custom vibranium combat knife, black and gold like Bucky’s arm. At the bottom of the handle was an engravement with his initials, J.B.B, and along the spine of it , were two sets of coordinates carefully etched into the metal, one for Brooklyn, and one for Avengers Tower. One for where it all started for him, and the other for where he found himself again and built something new. Tony could see your eyes light up at the sight.

”Pretty nice hmm?” You swallowed hard, nodding.

”He’s gonna love it.” Tony huffed, leaning back against the workbench, taking another sip of his coffee.

”You know, for someone who insists that this whole thing is casual, you sure put a lot of thought into that.” You exhaled sharply, snapping the box closed.

”Don’t start.” Tony smirked at your reaction.

”Just making an observation, kid.” You rolled your eyes, slipping the box into the pocket of your sweatpants.

“It’s just a gift.” You said, as if you were trying to convince yourself too.

“Right…Because people definitely get custom-engraved, sentimentally-loaded, personally-designed weapons all the time for their totally casual, not-at-all serious partners.” You stared at him, shifting slightly at his call out.

”Well, what matters more than your over analyzing is that he’s going to love it.” You paused, “Oh, and by the way, I’m going to be throwing a little party for him tomorrow, if you don’t mind of course.” He sighed.

”I don’t really have a choice do I?” You shook your head.

”Not really. You’re welcome to come by the way.” You said jokingly, “Just try not to scare off the guests.” You added.

”Please, I’m the life of the party.” You stood up from the stool.

”Yeah? Tell that to the last one where you made Peter cry during beer pong.” Tony laughed.

”Hey, I was teaching him the life lesson of losing.” You snorted, shaking your head, “If he couldn’t handle one loss, he’s got bigger problems.” You smirked.

”I think it was the hangover that really got him, but anyways, I gotta go hide this and start getting everything together. Thank you again, and please thank Shuri too.” He nodded.

”I’ll see you at the party.”

————

When you returned to your room you were thankful that Bucky wasn’t in your bed just yet, it gave you the opportunity to hide his gift in your closet, underneath a bunch of junk he wouldn’t care to look through. Satisfied with the hiding spot, you stretched out your back, grabbing a pair of shorts, and a t-shirt. You swapped your outfit to your sleeping clothes, knowing Bucky would be here soon. You pushed your hair out of your face, throwing yourself down on your bed, crawling under the blankets, getting comfortable before turning on the television, absentmindedly flipping through channels.

The familiar creak of your door opening echoed through your room, seeing Bucky slip in. He had a habit of just letting himself in, never bothering to knock. He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants, and a grey t-shirt that clung to every muscle on his body. You liked it when he wore casual clothes, he looked comfortable.

“Comfy already, huh?” He asked, seeing how settled in you were, your body tucked under the thick blankets, leaving only your head exposed. You smirked at him.

”Well, some of us don’t take an hour to get ready for bed, princess.” He huffed out a laugh, shutting the door behind him completely.

”Very funny.” He said, reaching for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. You tried hard not to stare, but every time you saw him shirtless it was like the first time all over again, the way you felt your heart race when he revealed himself to you, when you ran your hands over his broad expanse of skin, kissing everywhere you could. It was hard not to be enamoured by him still, and he always caught you looking at him, with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. He smirked, his cheeks turning a blush red, as he slipped under the covers beside you, propping himself up on his elbow.

”Always staring.” He commented, as you nudged him with your foot.

”I’m just admiring.” He let out a low hum, watching as you turned onto your side to face him, his arm curling around you, to bring your body close to his, feeling his hand slip beneath your shirt, resting on your back. His sweet aftershave tickled your nose, as his scent completely engulfed you; woods, pine and a little bit of salt.

“Oh really, I guess we have different definitions of admiring.” You felt his fingers tracing slow lazy circles against your skin, as his vibranium arm slid beneath your pillow.

”And what’s your definition?” Bucky’s blue eyes flickered over you, the corner of his lips twitching up.

”My definition? When someone appreciates something from a respectable distance…Not when they’re eyeing me like a snack every time I take my shirt off.” You let out a mock gasp, pressing a hand against his chest.

“You think I’m looking at you like a snack?” He nodded, as your legs snaked around him, his thigh resting against the seam of your shorts. “Don’t discount yourself so much…It’s more like I’m looking at you like you’re a full-course meal.” He laughed nervously at your correction, still getting flustered at the way you flirted with him, shaking his head.

”You’re ridiculous.” You smiled up at him, running your hand along his chest.

”I love how flustered I make you when I say stuff like that.” He rolled his eyes.

”You do know women back in the 40’s weren’t as forward as you, right? I’m allowed to blush.” You shifted a bit, so his thigh was slotted more firmly between yours, feeling the way his muscles flexed at the contact, as a warm heat curled low in your stomach.

“I’m sure they were saying it about you behind your back.” You whispered, his fingers trailing up your spine, his nose brushing against yours, lips hovering just out of reach.

“Oh yeah? You think they were writing about me in their diaries?” His voice was smooth, sultry in a way that was slow and steady. You breathed in his breath, tilting your head slightly.

”Please…With that face? Those baby blue eyes? They were probably clawing at each other to talk to you.” You responded, your fingers trailing down his chest, grazing over the muscles of his stomach.

”Man…You really think I was a heartbreaker back then huh?” You let out a soft laugh, your hand settling on the waistband of his sweatpants.

”I don’t think…I know.” Bucky shook his head, his fingers flexing against your back, pressing you closer to him, dragging you on his thigh in the process, needing to feel you on him, your lips parting slightly at the friction, his fingers grazing down your flesh to hold your waist gently.

”Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter now, does it?” His chest vibrated against yours, his breath tickling your skin, as his lips brushed against the corner of your mouth, your fingers curling around his waistband.

“And why’s that?” You asked, his lips pressing against your jaw gently.

”Because the only person I want thinking about me like that now…Is you.” He whispered, your teeth biting the inside of your bottom lip, his words pooling in the pit of your stomach. Now you were the one who’s cheeks were on fire. He was always like this when it was just the two of you- soft, unguarded.

”You think I spend my time daydreaming about you?” You teased, shifting against his thigh again, getting even closer to him, if that was even possible. Bucky exhaled sharply at the sensation, his grip on your waist tightening.

”I know you do,” He countered, watching as you leaned your head back so he could get access to your neck, your flesh prickling up at the way his hot breath fanned out over the expanse, nipping gently with his teeth, “Just like I think about you all the damn time.” Your fingers curled tighter around his waistband.

”All the time, hmm?” You murmured, your heart pounding against your chest, feeling his vibranium arm move out from under your pillow, slipping under you so he could shift on top of you gently, without putting all his weight on you, your leg perched on his waist

”Mmhmm. Didn’t you ever wonder why I always found an excuse to be around you?” You let out a soft laugh.

”I figured it was because you liked to annoy me.” Bucky pulled back, shaking his head.

”Well that too, but it was mostly because I couldn’t stay away.” You couldn’t help but smile at the way he whispered like it was some sort of secret, a hidden anecdote, even though you had known right away that he had feelings when he began wanting to be around you more. You ran your hand up his chest, tracing over the faint scars that had mapped out pieces of his past. Your touch was always gentle, reverent in a way that made him immediately settle. You leaned in, placing a kiss on his chest, right near his vibranium arm.

“You’re such a sap.” He let out a soft chuckle.

”I can top what I just said by a mile if you like sappiness.” Your lips tilted against his skin, pressing another lingering kiss to the same spot before lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.

“Go on…” You encouraged, watching his lips curl into a lopsided smile, as he brought his hand up to cradle your cheek, his vibranium hand slipping down to the top of your shorts.

”I used to think about this…” He admitted, the cool metal sliding beneath your waistband, against your skin, but not going to where you wanted him the most, not right now at least, because he always took his time with you, “Touching you like this…Having you like this.” His words sent shivers down your spine, the rasp of his voice vibrating against you, as his thumb traced the shape of your lips, his heavy-lidded eyes watching, feeling your hips moving up towards his touch, trying to guide him to where you wanted his hand.

“Bucky…” You breathed out, saying his name like it was a prayer on your tongue, your grip on his waistband tightening even more, feeling his vibranium hand travel lower into your shorts.

”Every night…I would think about what sounds you’d make if I touched you like this.” He confessed, his fingers grazing against your clit, your back arching towards him a small gasp escaping your lips. He always found a rhythm that made you squirm, and tonight was no different, he wanted to draw this out as long as he could, and wanted to unravel you in all the ways possible. His lips covered yours, swallowing another gasp that nearly escaped your throat, his tongue slipping into your mouth, desperate to taste you, as your hips moved against his fingers, adding additional pressure for yourself. He pulled back, out of breath, his eyes searching yours as your hand came up to hold the back of his, leaning into his touch.

“God you’re so beautiful...” He whispered, moving his vibranium hand lower, gathering your arousal on his fingers, before slipping two of them into you, a moan escaping your throat, trying to let it out quietly so nobody would hear. Your back arched towards him, your lashes fluttering closed, feeling his cool metal fingers curling slightly inside of you, moving them with agonizing slowness, so you could feel every ridge of the vibranium. He knew that if he wanted to he could make you finish in a minute because of how familiar you were to him, but tonight was not one of those nights, he just wanted to be close to you, wanted to cherish you for the night. He savoured every soft sound that slipped past your lips, as he leaned down peppering small kisses along your hot cheeks, trailing down the side of your throat, his stubble scraping over the skin, another breathless moan escaping you.

”I could listen to you all fucking night.” He commented, his hand falling from your cheek, coming to cup the side of your neck, “But I also would like you to look at me please…” He added, his thumb stroking a slow, deliberate path along your throat where your pulse pounded against his touch. Your eyes, still heavy with pleasure, fluttered open, meeting his gaze, a small smile draped on his face.

”That’s it…” He praised, his lips grazing your temple, your hips bucking against his fingers, your walls tightening around them, “That’s my good girl.” He whispered, his voice thick with affection, as he pulled your shirt off your shoulder, so he could gently suck on the skin of your collarbone, knowing exactly where your weak spots were, the speed of his fingers slowly increasing.

“Is this what you think about when you’re alone? My hands on you, my fingers inside you, stretching you…Fucking you.” You shuddered against him, the deep, raspy tone in his voice sending shivers down your spine. Bucky’s control was maddening to you, it was perfectly measured, and perfectly torturous. You reached for his bicep, your nails digging into the warm flesh, while you continued to roll your hips against his hand. You needed more, and you weren’t above begging for it.

“Bucky, p-please.” You gasped, your voice trembling, your heartbeat shaking your chest just enough that it was intruding on your speech. Your thighs tightened around his waist. “Fuck please…I need you to go faster.” He hummed against your skin, pulling away slightly.

”You sound so pretty when you beg.” He whispered, his hot breath sticking to your bruised skin, as he appeased your request, his fingers curling more inside you, picking up the pace a bit, knowing that you would be writhing beneath him in an instant. He could feel you tighten around him, your body arching beneath him, your legs squeezing his waist, pressing desperately into his touch, into him. His movements were precise, like he knew your body better than you did, like he wanted to pull every sound from you. Your nails dug into his bicep even deeper, gripping him like he was anchoring you as he pushed you closer to the edge.

“Bucky holy fuck.” You wept, your breath coming in short, uneven breaths. He pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone, before bringing his mouth to your ear.

“You gonna come for me baby?” The rasp of his voice was all consuming, his words curling around you, pulling you into the heat of the moment, your body meshing with his. You could feel his lips press a small, wet kiss against the spot just below your ear, “Answer me sweetheart.”

“Y-Y-Yes, Bucky…Fuck.” You moaned, and then you fell off the edge. A sharp gasp escaping your throat, your body tensing beneath him, pleasure crashing over you in waves, shaking beneath him, clenching around his body and his fingers. Bucky didn’t stop, he didn’t look away, he drank up every second with joy flashing in his eyes. He loved giving you pleasure, and this was the payoff, watching you unravel, feeling you tense around him, and dig your nails into his arm.

“So perfect.” He whispered, hearing you let out a small whimper, hypersensitive to his touch, still pulsing around him, your body trembling as the aftershocks of your orgasm rolled through you slowly. You tried to catch your breath, feeling Bucky running his thumb over the column of your throat, watching you patiently, his body heat against yours, his mouth pressing soft kisses to your jaw, his fingers slipping out of you slowly.

“Still with me?” He asked gently. You swallowed, forcing your eyes open to meet his dark blue ones.

”Y-Yeah.” You managed to force out, a smirk coming up on his lips, sliding his hand out of your shorts, bringing it up into your view, showing it glistening with the evidence of your pleasure, as he slowly cleaned them off with his tongue, humming in approval.

”Always so sweet.” You were wrecked by the sight, the coil in your stomach already reigniting. You wanted to return the favour immediately. You released his bicep, your hand tracing down to the waistband of his sweatpants, making your intent clear, but the moment before you could untie the knot, he stopped you.

”Not tonight.” He murmured.

”But-“

“Uh-uh…I just wanted to take care of you tonight, that’s all I wanted…” He whispered, leaning in to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips, his wet fingers coming up to caress the side of your neck, as he slipped off to the side of you, pulling away from the kiss.

“Fine…But tomorrow I’m definitely getting you back.” He held his hands up in defence.

”You can do whatever you want, I promise, I won’t stop you.” A slow, calculating smirk formed across your lips, narrowing your eyes at him

”You better not.” You warned, your fingers trailing up the rigid planes of his chest. He let out a low chuckle.

”I mean it…You can have your way with me however you want.” You hummed, your mind already spinning with plans. He caught the look on your face, the way your lips curved, how your eyes darkened with lust behind them. He let out a breath of laughter, “And you’re already plotting something, so I guess I’ll take that as a success.”

————

When you woke up the next morning, Bucky was gone. He had left a note on his pillow, scrawled in his messy handwriting, telling you Steve and him had plans and that he would be seeing you tonight. Thankfully, you already knew about this, because you were the one that had set this up to get him out of the tower, it was to buy you time to get his party together. You slid out of bed, rolling your shoulders, shaking the exhaustion out of your body, a soft sigh escaping into the air as you slipped out of your room. You moved through the hallway, and into the living room. It was a controlled mess of decorations, with boxes of supplies stacked on the table and strewn about the floor. Natasha stood in the middle of it all with a coffee mug in hand, sipping slowly, her eyes settling on you as you came into her line of sight.

”Good morning sunshine. You look like a wreck.” You pushed your hair out of your face, making your way to the kitchen.

”Thank you, Nat. I had a late night yesterday.” She smirked over the rim of her mug.

”Let me guess, you were up giving the birthday boy his special gift?” She teased, as you poured yourself a cup of coffee, shaking your head at her.

”You’d be surprised to know that I was in fact not doing that.” Natasha raised a brow at her.

”Yeah? Then why do you look so tired?” She asked. You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could Wanda sauntered into the room, a knowing smirk playing on her lips, cradling a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

”Cause they were busy running the bases and not hitting home…If that’s what the term is of course.” Natasha choked on her coffee, her head snapping at you laughing a bit.

”Oh…So you guys didn’t have sex, you just ran the bases, is that a normal occurrence?” You groaned, rubbing your forehead with one hand while the other clutched your coffee mug.

”You two are relentless, you know that?” You commented.

”Well you never spill the beans about it, and we’re all curious because we literally hear you guys. So what do you expect us to do?” Wanda asked, taking a seat on the couch.

“Yeah, and on top of that I’m more curious about the dynamic here. You guys say you’re casual, but you sleep in each other’s beds every night, and are pretty much attached to the hip.” You sighed, putting your coffee mug down on the counter.

”We are casual…We have an understanding, an agreement, it’s plain and simple. Keep things light, have fun, and don’t make things complicated.” Natasha hummed.

“Right…Even though he worships the ground you walk on.” You rolled your eyes.

”He doesn’t worship me, he respects me, yes…But worship is extreme.” Wanda let out a small laugh.

”He absolutely does, you’re just blind.” Natasha took a sip of her coffee.

”He looks at you like you’re a miracle. He tracks you across a room like you’re the only person in it, and not only that but he stares at you…” You laughed a bit.

”Bucky always stares though, you guys are being dramatic.” You exclaimed, picking up your coffee mug again, taking another sip.

”Are we though?” Wanda challenged, tilting her head, “Let’s run through the facts, shall we? He only sleeps in a bed when you’re in it, he only lets you touch his vibranium arm, and he gets jealous when you’re talking to other guys…Remember that time we all went out to that bar downtown and that dude came up to you and hit on you? Then he was all broody for the rest of the night until you gave him some attention?” You groaned, putting the mug down again.

“Okay, fine…He got a little tense that time, but that doesn’t mean anything, he’s always been protective, you guys both know that.” They both sighed in unison.

”Fine, but what about the other things we listed for you…He’s vulnerable with you, he’s not like that with any of us, except Steve.” Natasha chimed in, as your fingers drummed against the countertop.

”Listen, he trusts me, that’s all there is to it. You guys are really looking too deeply into this, and I’m really not in the mood to defend our dynamic right now, so can we just call this a stalemate?” Wanda looked over at Natasha, then back to you.

”Stalemate it is…But just know, that when the whole casual thing implodes, we’ll be the people to say we told you so.” Wanda explained, your eyes glancing over at Natasha who smirked, taking another sip of her coffee.

”And we’re not going to be nice about it.” Natasha added.

————

The three of you worked for six hours decorating the living room, transforming it into something that actually looked like a party instead of a chaotic mess of things that got thrown together at the last minute. Banners were hung, the furniture was rearranged to give everyone more space to freely move around, and twinkling lights were strung up around the room to give it more of a laid back look. A giant “Happy Birthday, Bucky” sign stretched across the wall behind the bar, and the tables were lined with food, drinks, and an impressive-looking cake that looked too massive for the amount of people that were coming. Clint said bigger was better, so you couldn’t fault him for making that choice. Guests began to arrive soon after, which was your cue to go get changed before things got too chaotic.

You slipped into your room, shutting the door behind you, with your pulse thrumming in anticipation. You opened up your closet, pulling out the clothes that you already had set up for yourself. It was simple, a black wrap dress, thin and silky, with a deep v neckline that showed enough to tease, and a tie that held it all together. You had also prepared what you would be wearing under the dress, a matching set of black lace lingerie, delicate, and intricate, designed with the sole purpose of temptation.

You ran your fingers over the soft lace, your body already humming with excitement. The bra barely covered anything, the sheer fabric teasing more than it concealed, while the matching thong sat perfectly against your hips, accentuating every curve. The final touch was the lace garters that held up your thigh-high stockings, the tiny clasps clicking into place as you adjusted them.

Satisfied with how everything looked, you slipped into the silky wrap dress, the fabric cool against your skin. You tied the knot at the side, securing it just enough to stay in place—but loose enough that a single pull would undo everything. It was perfect, not too fancy, but not too casual, just right for the occasion, and for the after party. Just as you were putting the last touches on, your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Steve: Just pulled up with the birthday boy, hope everything is ready, he was becoming suspicious.

Your lips curled into a smirk.

You: Everything’s ready, you can come up whenever you get here :)

You put the phone back onto the nightstand, doing one last check in the mirror, adjusting the dress slightly so it fell perfectly on your body, sighing, before making your way out into the hallway. You could hear chatter, it sounded like during the time you were in your bedroom more guests had arrived, which brought you some comfort that people got your invitations. The second you turned the corner into the living room you spotted Peter hovering near the snack table, eyeing the cake, his fingers twitching at his sides like he was restraining himself from stealing a piece. You shook your head, going over to him, sneaking up behind him.

”Don’t even think about it, Spider-Boy.” Peter practically jumped out of his skin, spinning around so fast he nearly knocked over a plate of appetizers. His face flushing a deep shade of red, rubbing the back of his neck, knowing that he was caught red-handed.

”I wasn’t doing anything…Okay, m-maybe I was thinking about it but I wasn’t actually going to do it.” He stammered, glancing between you and the cake behind him, “It’s just right there, and it does look quite delicious.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Mhm…” You responded, knowing he would continue to dig his own grave. He rocked back and forth on his heels.

”Alright, in my defense, Clint did say it was big, which means we would have extra cake, so a tiny little bite wouldn’t have been missed.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“It would be noticed. You’re not that sneaky, and I would also tell Bucky it was you.” Peter’s eyes widened.

”You wouldn’t.” You smirked, leaning in just enough, lowering your voice.

”Oh, but I would.” He groaned, “It’s called having self-control Peter, you gotta try it sometime.” You commented, patting his shoulder. Before he could argue Natasha’s voice rang through the room.

”They’re coming up! Everyone shut it and get into place!” The room instantly fell into a frenzy. People scrambled, ducking behind furniture, moving into place near the bar, and switching off the overhead lights so only the twinkling decorations remained. You hurried into position, standing near the center where you’d have a perfect view of Bucky when he walked in, hiding behind the coffee table to be sure he wouldn’t see you, your heart pounding in anticipation as the elevator dinged.

”SURPRISE!” The room erupted into cheers, party poppers bursting into the air as Steve used Bucky inside. You could see from where you were that Bucky looked completely caught off guard, his brows furrowing, scanning over the room, taking in the decorations, the banner, the crowd of people waiting just for him. Then, slowly, his expression softened.

“You guys…” His voice quieter than expected, almost uncertain, nervous even, but there was such warmth in his gaze that you could tell he was touched by the gesture. Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, grinning widely.

”Told you we had plans.” He said, laughing a bit as Sam walked up to him.

”And by we, he means her.” He nodded in your direction, Bucky’s gaze following, landing on you in an instant as you rose from your spot, with your hands up, ready to claim innocence. You could see his eyes roaming over your outfit, the way your curves were accentuated, and the amount of skin he was able to drink in.

”I know you didn’t want a party…But I just couldn’t resist.” You said, moving towards him with your lips forming a small smile. Bucky let out a soft laugh, crossing his arms over his chest as you took up the space in front of him.

”You really did this all for me huh?” You shrugged playfully, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

”Of course I did.” Bucky sighed, shaking his head, his blue eyes flickering at you.

”There was no need to go through all this trouble.” You reached out, brushing your fingers over his forearm.

”I wanted to do this for you.” His gaze scanned over the room again, taking in the way everyone was gathered just for him. It was almost overwhelming that people cared about him enough to show up, and he could feel his heart clench in his chest just thinking about how much work you put in to get everything together within the day basically.

”Well…I’ll admit it's very nice.” He said softly, you smiled up at him, fingers still resting lightly on his forearm, dragging up the skin, causing goosebumps to form.

“Nice? That’s all I get?” You teased, tilting your head to the side, “I was hoping for spectacular…Incredible…Maybe even the best party you’ve ever had.” Bucky let out a huffed laugh, shaking his head at you.

”Alright…It’s perfect. Happy now?” Your fingers trailed a little higher up his arm, nails skimming over the fabric of his shirt, feeling the way his muscles tensed every so slightly beneath your touch.

”I’m getting there.” You murmured, biting back a smirk. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

”You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?” His voice is quieter now, his eyes roaming over you discreetly.

”I enjoy making your birthday special…How I do that is a different conversation entirely.” He squinted at you, shifting his weight, stepping just a little closer, his body brushing against yours, testing the waters.

”You keep talking like that, doll, and I’m gonna start thinking you have some alternative plans for me tonight.” He whispered, his breath hitting your cheeks, causing them to heat up.

”Mmm, and what if I do?” You responded.

”Then I’d say you’re playing a dangerous game.” He murmured, his eyes darkening just a little in the lighting, “And I gotta warn you, I don’t like losing.” A knowing smile danced on your lips.

”Well too bad for you, cause I always win.” His fingers twitched at his side, his metal hand flexing slightly before he let it settle on his hip, like he was physically restraining himself from acting on whatever thoughts were running through his mind. His gaze flickered down, just for a moment, taking in the way the silky fabric of your dress clung to your frame, how that little tie at your hip was just begging to be undone, how the lace of your bra peaked out from the neckline, teasing him, tempting him.

”You really like pushing me, don’t you?” Your smirk widened, tilting your head, your lips almost touching his jaw.

”I just like seeing how much you can handle.” You could sense the lust filling up in Bucky’s eyes, the way they softened, the way his pupils dilated, the hint of blush that dusted his cheeks…You were making him frustrated, and you were enjoying every second of it. Before he could push the moment any further, a loud cough interrupted.

”Alright you two, break it up. No need to eye fuck in the middle of the party huh?” Sam said, wrapping his arm over Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him away from you slightly, hearing him let out a low groan.

”You’ve got the worst timing, Wilson.” Sam grinned, completely unfazed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. But considering you two were about five seconds away from turning this party into an erotic novel, I figured I’d save everyone the secondhand embarrassment.” You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest.

”Jealous, Wilson?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him, causing Sam to bark out a laugh.

”Of what? Watching Barnes go from brooding soldier to a lovestruck fool in real-time? Not in the slightest Y/N.” Bucky scoffed at the comment, shaking his head before sending you a side glance.

”We’ll take this up later.” He murmured, your smirk widening.

”I’d be disappointed if we didn’t.” Before Bucky could say anything else, Sam tugged him toward the bar, waving a dismissive hand at you.

”Go on you little troublemaker, let the birthday boy have a drink before he explodes.” You watched them walk away, Bucky shooting a small glance over his shoulder, before he lost you in the crowd. You bit your lip, feeling your stomach twist, the excitement already building inside you.

The party continued in full swing, laughter and conversation filling the room, but despite the crowd, the music, and the drinks flowing freely, Bucky was the only thing on your mind. Even from across the room, you could feel his eyes on you. Every time you glanced in his direction, you found his gaze lingering, burning into you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it, and neither were you.

Then finally, you caught him while he was alone, leaning against the bar, with his fingers gripping the edge like he was physically restraining himself. You knew it was your chance to strike. You approached slowly, his eyes on you immediately, watching as you got through the crowd with ease. Finally you were in his space again.

”Enjoying the party?” You asked nonchalantly, swirling your vodka cran around in your glass, taking a small sip, licking the excess off your lips. Bucky gulped, his eyes flickering from your lips to the curve of your throat, down to where the silky fabric of your dress dipped just enough to tease.

”Am I enjoying the party?” He repeated, his voice rough, like it had been dragged over gravel. “I think you already know the answer to that.” You tilted your head, playing innocent.

”Oh? And what could the answer be?” Bucky exhaled sharply, as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.

”I haven’t been paying attention to it because I’ve been looking at you all night.” Your fingers toyed with the rim of your glass.

”Good.” Was all you could muster up to say, seeing his eyes darken, his hand clenching around his whiskey. You took another slow sip of your drink, watching him, before stepping closer, pressing your body against his, barely. You could feel his body tense up beside you.

Your nails dragged lightly up his skin, trailing the veins of his arm, over his shoulder, then lower, ghosting over the solid plane of his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. He was crumbling, and you were enjoying every moment of it, because to you, the lust and his burning need for you was intoxicating. His breathing was uneven, and warm against your skin, as he cleared his throat.

”Y/N…If you keep touching me like this, I’m not going to be responsible for what happens next.” You revelled in the way his voice dropped an octave, straining, like he was barely hanging on. You got onto your tiptoes, leaning against him, your hot breath hitting the shell of his ear.

”Then don’t,” You whispered, letting your fingers trail down his stomach, his abs tensing beneath your touch. “Meet me in my room in five minutes.” You added, pulling back to see the way his jaw clenched at the instruction. His chest rose and fell in deep, controlled breaths, like he was trying to steady himself, but you knew…You had him in the palm of your hand. His eyes flickered to yours, dark, burning, full of heat.

”Five minutes?” He murmured, confirming it with you. You smirked at the way his voice cracked slightly, nodding.

”Don’t make me wait, birthday boy.” You replied. Before he could say anything else you turned on your heel and walked away, swaying your hips deliberately, knowing full well that his gaze was on you. Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you slipped through the crowd, weaving past the tipsy guests, going down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder, right as you entered your dimly lit room, closing the door behind you.

You let out a long exhale, tilting your head back to chug the rest of your drink, the anticipation building inside you like a burning coil. You walked over to your bed, grabbing his gift off the mattress, and hiding it in your nightstand, not wanting to give it to him just yet. Finally the door clicked open behind you, and before you could turn around the soft thud of it closing sent a shrill up your spine

“I think I waited four minutes,” Bucky rasped, pushing his hair out of his face, “Hope you don’t mind.” You smiled.

”Couldn’t even make it to five hmm?” You teased, keeping your distance from him.

”Not when I knew what was waiting for me in here.” You hummed, seeing his muscles tensing up. He was barely holding it together, and you were loving how worked up he was. Your fingers toyed with the knot of your dress, teasing without even touching him.

”Go sit on the bed.” You instructed softly. His eyes flickered with something dangerous, something dark, but he obeyed. Without a word, he walked over to the bed, turned and sat on the edge of it, his legs spreading slightly, his forearms resting on his thighs as he watched you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

“Good boy…” You praised, already seeing his pants tenting from his erection. His chest rose and fell slowly, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his lips parted slightly, like he was on the verge of saying something, maybe begging even.

But you weren’t going to make it that easy for him.

You let your fingers slowly pull at the knot of your dress, watching as his eyes followed the movement with rapt attention. The silky fabric loosened, slipping off your shoulders before it cascaded down your body, pooling at your feet. His breath hitched audibly when he saw what was underneath, the intricate black lace, delicate and form fitting hugging every dip of your body, leaving just enough to the imagination to drive him insane. You took your time stepping forward to place yourself between his parted legs, your body just inches from his.

”Fuck Y/N…Look at you.” He whispered, his eyes roaming over your body. You reached out, breaking the touch barrier, letting your fingers gently travel down his shoulders, feeling the tension coiling beneath his skin, the ridges of his muscles twitching under your touch, dragging your nails down the fabric of his shirt before reaching the hem of it, tracing your fingers along it. You leaned in just a bit.

”Take it off.” Your hot breath stuck to his cheek, as you moved back, seeing Bucky’s jaw clench, seconds before he obliged, pulling off the shirt in one smooth motion, throwing it to the side, pushing his hair out of his face, his hands scraping against the stubble on his cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours. You took in a deep breath, your hand pressing against his chest, feeling the heat that radiated off him, the straining of the muscles from the resistance he was still putting up. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

”Can I touch you now?” You held his gaze, seeing the sheer desperation in his eyes, glimmering behind his blown out pupils. Your touch trailed up to the side of his neck, feeling his pulse bounding against your fingertips.

”You can touch me…” A sharp exhale left his lips, his hands shooting out before you could change your mind, immediately pulling you closer to him, his fingers digging into the lace on your hips. He placed a discreet kiss to the soft flesh of your stomach, before wrapping his arms around you to pull you onto his lap in one swift motion, your knees settling on either side of him, cushioned against the mattress beneath you, a soft giggle escaping your lips.

”Who gave you pointers on how to tease me so well?” He asked jokingly, his hands sliding up your back with slow, delicate strokes. You smirked.

”I know what makes you bounce off the walls, Bucky, I don’t need someone to teach me how to tease you…” You replied, feeling him placing open mouthed kisses along your collarbone, wetting the skin, each one sending tiny sparks down your spine. His hands stopped at the clip of your bra, tracing the trim of the lace with his fingertips as he hummed against you.

”Well you’re a fucking professional.” His tongue poking out to trail up your neck, your nails digging into his back, “And I can’t help myself because you are impossible to resist.” He whispered, his breath cooling the path of saliva on your skin. His hands, both warm and cool, pulled at the fastening of your bra slowly, loosening the garment, letting it slip from your shoulders. You slid your arms out from the straps, moving back to throw it off to the side, returning to him quickly, pressing your chest against his, your hearts beating in sync. He tilted his head up, his lips meeting yours, a slow-burning intensity pooling in the pit of your stomach. The kiss was deep, and unhurried, the both of you moving your hands along each other, touching every expanse of skin that was exposed. You opened your mouth for him, letting his tongue slip in, the taste of whiskey immediately hitting your senses, as you rocked your hips against him, earning a groan from Bucky, his hands slipping down to grip your hips tightly. You pressed against him even harder, adjusting your position so there was more pressure on his erection that was straining against the fabric of his pants.

Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat, feeling the heat of your core pressing against him, the friction alone making his head fall back slightly, pulling away from the heated kiss in the process, exposing his throat to you. His breathing picked up just a little faster as you leaned in, your lips ghosting against his jaw, while you ran your hands down his chest, reaching for the buckle of his belt.

“Y/N…” He moaned breathlessly, his fingers digging into your hips even more.

”Shh,” You whispered, placing an opened mouthed kiss against the side of his neck, your teeth grazing over the semi-healed bruise you had left a few days prior, a smile ghosting over the skin, knowing you had him right where you wanted him. Your fingers moved quickly, undoing his belt, pulling it free in one smooth motion, the leather slipping through the loops with a soft swishing sound, throwing it over to the pile of clothes that continued to grow. His chest heaved, feeling your fingers returning to the button and zipper of his pants, your hands dipping beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of his skin, and to push them off his hips. He lifted himself slightly, holding you with one hand as he pushed the pants down with the other, shaking them off his legs, his eyes still locked onto yours, bringing your body back down to his once he shook the fabric off his legs, his mouth meeting yours again in an all encompassing kiss, the both of your releasing harsh breaths, adjusting yourselves.

Your hips shifted against him, feeling a damp patch seeping through the fabric of his boxers, evidence of just how worked up you had gotten him already. You smiled into the kiss, pulling back to meet his gaze, a grunt escaping his throat.

”You’re fucking killing me here Y/N…Please god…” He whimpered, so desperate he felt like he was choking on his own breath. You reached down, dragging your fingers over the growing wet patch, over the outline of his cock, watching the way his eyes fluttered closed, his hands flexing against your waist.

“Let’s take these off hmm?” Your voice remained so calm, yet his actions were so hurried that you were almost thrown off him because of how quick he shifted his hips up to help you push his boxers down. The second the last barrier for him was gone, his hands were immediately grabbing at your thighs, dragging you close to him, pressing you down over the soft, warm skin of his erection, the wetness from his precum causing you to shiver, knowing he was aching to be inside of you. You could hear his ragged, labored breathing, his vibranium hand splaying over your lower back, locking you into place so you didn’t move against him, like he was going to cum at any time because of how worked up he was. His forehead rested on yours, closing his eyes tightly, like he was trying to refocus, or distract himself from the overwhelming sensations that coursed through his veins. You reached up, pushing his hair away from his cheeks.

“I think I’ve tortured you enough hmm?” You teased, your voice dripping with satisfaction, seeing his eyelids flutter open, his gaze dark and hazy.

“You really have, I don’t think I’ll last long.” He admitted, his fingers trailing up your thigh to the lace trim of your underwear, “Can I please take these off?” He asked, his tone on the brink of whining. You nodded, only to hear the distinct rip of lace as he tore the side of them right at the seam, moving to the other side to do the same, taking the fabric off completely, letting it fall somewhere behind you.

”Bucky!” You scolded, breathless, looking down at him, seeing a smile coming up on his face, his hands slipping around to palm the curve of your ass, bringing you against him again.

”I’ll take you shopping tomorrow,” He murmured, his lips carefully dragging across your jaw, “You can pick out as many pairs as you want…But I gotta warn you, I might just end up ruining all of those too.” He added, massaging the supple flesh of your ass, before sliding his hands onto your thighs, shifting beneath you, adjusting himself. His pupils were completely blown wide, engulfing what little blue he had left from his irises, his lips were parted, and he was blushing so much his cheeks looked like they were suborned. You could feel his hands trembling against the flesh of your thighs, his body strung so tight that he was on the verge of snapping at any moment.

You shifted, lifting yourself just enough to reach between the both of you, your fingers wrapping around his cock, feeling how thick, and heavy he was in your grasp. Bucky let out a sharp, strangled moan against you, his fingers digging deeply into the soft flesh of your thighs, your thumb running over the tip, spreading the precum that dripped from it along the head, watching Bucky’s jaw fall open.

”Fuck, please, please, I’m gonna lose my mind Y/N…I need you so bad.” The words came out so jumbled you could barely make it out, all you could hear was how his voice was cracking, like he couldn’t take it anymore. You could feel your face heat up at how frustrated he was, as you slowly guided him against you, letting the head of his cock slip down your folds so he could feel how wet you were for him, the anticipation burning between the both of you.

Then you gently lowered yourself down onto him, taking him inch by inch, craving the stretch that his well endowed member provided every single time without fail. You could feel his arms tighten around you, as he let out a shuddered gasp, his forehead falling onto your shoulder, his breath coming in short uneven bursts. Once he was fully seated inside of you, pulsing faintly against your walls, he let out another shaky breath.

”Stay still…” He rasped, his voice wrecked, “Just for a m-minute…Just…Fuck I just need a moment.” You nodded, feeling him trembling beneath you. You smoothed your hands up his back, his muscles flexing slightly, his hot breath hitting the top of your breast.

“Fuck…Y/N…You’re gonna push me over the edge if you keep touching me like that.” You smiled down at him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

”Sorry…” You whispered, halting your movements, just settling your hands on his skin, feeling his heartbeat slamming against your chest. He let out a long shaky breath, his hands coming back to hold onto your waist. You could feel the tension coiled tight inside him, the pulsing of his cock, the way he lifted his head up off your shoulder and kissed the side of your neck.

“It’s never felt like this before…” He admitted, still taking in sharp breaths. You leaned back, looking down at him, pushing his damp hair off his sweaty forehead, watching the way his eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.

“Well I did work you up quite a lot, I don’t do that often.” You explained, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “We can go slow though, maybe it’ll help relieve a bit of the tension.” You suggested gently, seeing his eyes slowly flutter open, looking up at you with a glistening gaze, his fingers squeezing the flesh on your hips softly.

”O-Okay.” He stuttered, holding you close as you shifted above him, moving your hips slowly, pulling off him before pushing back down, listening to him take in sharp breaths, a moan falling from his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

“Jesus…You…” He cut himself off with a groan, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you against him even more. You leaned down.

”I what, Bucky?” You whispered, teasing, continuing your slow movements above him.

”You feel…” His words caught again, feeling your hips roll against his, drawing another sharp exhale from him, his eyes flickering up to yours, “You feel so good.” You reach out to him, holding his cheeks in your hands, leaning down to place a heated kiss against his lips, his mouth opening for you immediately, so your tongues can intertwine in a sloppy battle of dominance, your movements picking up in pace, a moan escaping Bucky’s throat, his hips pushing up to meet yours, the both of you pulling away from the kiss, lips swollen, your mouths glistening from the wetness of your tongues.

”I can’t believe this is all for me.” He rasped, one hand sliding up to cup your jaw, pulling you back down into another bruising kiss, moaning into your mouth, the hand on your jaw moving lower to hold your throat gently, squeezing just a little, making your breath hitch.

”I’m so fucking lucky…You’re so fucking perfect like this.” His hips snapping up to meet yours, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix, a shiver rolling down your spine with how deep he was.

“Bucky…” His name spilled out from your lips, the tone in your voice triggering something in him. His vibranium arm wrapped around your waist, guiding your movements as he continued to thrust up to meet you, getting deeper each time, bottoming out.

“Tell me that no one makes you feel like this.” He whispered, holding your throat still, tightening just a little to heighten every sensation that wracked through your body.

”No one,” You breathed, “No one but you, Bucky.” A deep, satisfied groan rumbled from his chest, his lips returning to yours, his desperation evident in the way he kissed you, in the way he moved inside you, staking his claim, even though he already knew he had you just where he wanted you, feeling you slowly surrender to him, just like he surrendered to you long ago. He held you in place, rutting up into you, dragging you closer to the edge, making you tremble in his arms, your nails scraping down his back.

“You’re all fucking mine.” He growled, nipping at your bottom lip, soothing the sting with his tongue, “Fuck…I can’t believe I get to have you like this.” He moaned out, feeling your walls clench around him, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing through the room. Your nails dug into his shoulders, a whimper escaping your lips, his teeth scraping over the column of your throat, his eyes staying on yours, every single nerve ending setting on fire in your body.

“Bucky…” His name tumbled from your lips, in a breathless, broken moan and it sent his self-control out the window, his hips snapping up to meet yours, pulling you flush against him. His vibranium hand pressing against your lower back, keeping you in place as he drove into you, deeper, harder, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you.

Your body arched, your breath catching in your throat as your orgasm tore through you, so intense, so overwhelming, that a soft, choked sob escaped your lips. Tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks, the sheer force of your release leaving you utterly undone. Bucky could feel your walls tighten on him, saw the way your body trembled above him, heard the way you gasped his name and clung to him, making his head spin.

“Fuck,” He growled, his fingers digging into the flesh of your back, burning himself inside you, as his own release took him under, his body tensing beneath you, groaning into the curve of your neck. You could feel his warmth filling you up in hot ropes, his body jerking against you to push his cum deeper into you. He sunk his teeth into the soft flesh where your neck and shoulder met, trying to hold himself still, trying to ground himself.

Then he felt it, the slight shake of your body, the uneven breaths…A sniffle. He pulled back immediately from your skin, looking up at you with his brows furrowed, catching sight of your glistening face, your lips parted as you tried to catch your breath.

”Shit,” His voice instantly changed, laced with concern, his hand coming up to cup your face gently, his fingers feeling the dampness your tears had left in their wake, “Y/N…Fuck did I hurt you?” He asked, panic flickering behind his blown-out pupils, his thumb wiping beneath your eye. You shook your head quickly, letting out a breathless laugh.

”No, no,” You whispered, your voice still shaky from the aftershocks, “It was just so much all at once…In the best way possible.” You could see relief wash over his expression, though his eyes still searched yours, making sure you weren’t lying to him. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but instead he just pulled you closer, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your damp cheeks, your temple, your jaw, anywhere he could reach, tasting the saltiness of your tears.

After a moment, he shifted, lifting you effortlessly as he stood up, climbing onto the bed fully, laying you against the mattress, pulling out of you slowly, before the both of you intertwined your bodies, side by side, still keeping the close proximity, his arms tangling around you. He pressed absentminded kisses against your forehead, letting the silence stretch between you, his thumbs wiping off the remaining dampness that coated your cheeks. You hummed softly, your fingertips tracing the lines of his abdomen, feeling weightless against him.

“We should probably head back out to the party soon.” You murmured, though there was no real conviction behind what you said. A groan rumbled in his chest, as he buried his face into your neck, kissing the flesh.

”I don’t think I’m gonna be able to move for at least fifteen minutes.” He admitted, the both of you laughing together in unison, as you reached up to run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.

”I agree with you there, honestly…They probably already know where we are anyways.” You said, feeling his arm curling tighter around you.

”Oh they definitely know,” His voice was laced with exhaustion, but also with deep content, not having a care in the world at this point, only focusing on you.

“Doesn’t matter anyways…They knew we were gonna end up like this.” He nodded.

”Yeah because you’re a little sex maniac.” You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning into him, your heart racing at the way he continued to hold onto you, running his hands over your body, in a soothing caress. But then, a thought flickered in your mind…His gift. You had nearly forgotten in the haze of everything that had transpired.

You shifted slightly, reaching over him, opening up the drawer of your nightstand, feeling around for the long velvet box. Bucky turned himself, seeing what you were reaching for, his brows pulling together.

”What’s this?” He asked, as you handed it to him, sitting up a bit.

”It’s your real gift…” You informed, seeing Bucky smirk at you.

”Are you telling me the mind-blowing sex wasn’t the real gift?” You laughed, feeling your face heat up as you shook your head at him.

”No no…That was the pregame for this.” He squinted at you curiously, before he cracked open the box, his eyes immediately widening, sitting up instantly, his warmth leaving you, staring down at the box, at the knife it held. You sat up with him, shifting closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. Your arms wrapping around his stomach, paying attention to the way his fingers traced the engravings. Bucky swallowed loudly.

”These are coordinates?” He asked, and you nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder blade.

”The top one is for Brooklyn, and bottom one is for Avengers Tower…Brooklyn because that’s where you grew up with Steve, and here because it’s where you found yourself again…Where you found home, where you…” Found family, found belonging , found me, you thought, letting the sentence kind of trail off, not being able to finish it. There was a long moment of silence where neither of you said anything, as his fingers traced over the engravings, again, and again, committing them to memory through touch alone, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath he took.

“You really put a lot of thought into this.” He said, breaking the silence, trying to process everything.

”Of course I did,” You replied softly, your arms squeezing around him, “It’s you.” Another stretch of silence followed again. You were about to say something, maybe to lighten the moment, tease him about how he’d better not lose it, when he suddenly set the box down on the nightstand and turned toward you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. The embrace was firm, his face burying itself into your neck, as he took in a deep breath.

”God I love you…” He whispered so quietly that you almost missed it. Your heart nearly stopped. It slipped out of him like he had been holding it in for so long, and judging by the way he said it, he felt like now was the best time. You pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face, the look in his eyes breaking you, seeing the exact moment where the panic set in.

”i-I didn’t mean…” He sucked in a sharp breath, shaking his head like he was trying to backpedal, attempting to put the words back into his mouth, “I mean, I did mean it but…Fuck I didn’t mean to say it like that, I…” His fingers twitched along your back, pulling back a little more so you couldn’t feel his heart hammering against his chest.

”I-I don’t want to freak you out, I’m not trying to push anything, I swear I just…” His eyes darted over your face, trying to read your expression. He acted like he’d just detonated a grenade and was waiting to see if you were going to run.

“Bucky.” You whispered, reaching up to cup his face between your hands, your thumbs running over the stubble on his cheeks, watching him shake his head.

”I’ve been wanting to say it for so long,” He admitted, “But I didn’t want to make things weird, and I didn’t want to lose you…I didn’t want to ruin what was happening between us…” You felt your heart clench at his words, the admission hitting you in waves, the questions beginning to flood your mind. You wondered how long he felt this way, or how long he kept these feelings from you. Of course you knew he liked you, he wouldn’t have agreed to the casual relationship if he did, but you wanted to know when he started feeling love for you.

Slowly, you pressed your forehead against his, feeling the heat of his breath against your lips, his figure shuddering at the contact, thinking that this would be the last time he was going to be this close to you.

”Bucky.” You murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger, soothing the panic that was rolling off him. When you pulled back, his lips parted, and his eyes opened to search yours. He was about to say something but you interrupted.

”I love you too.” You added, a smile slowly coming up on your face, his eyes leaving yours for a moment.

“You don’t have to say it just because I did,” He murmured, his voice so quiet it almost didn’t reach you. Your heart clenched at his vulnerability, at the way he still thought this might not be real. You ran your thumbs over the stubble again, leaning down to look into his eyes.

”I wouldn’t do that, Bucky...” You replied, feeling his fingers twitching along your back.

”So…You really mean it?” He asked. You let out a soft laugh, nodding as you pressed another kiss to his lips, slower this time, more intentional, hoping that it would drive home the point. You pulled back slightly.

”Yes…” You said, pecking his lips again, “I’ve been wanting to say it too, I just didn’t know if you were ready to hear it.” Bucky let out a shaky exhale, his forehead dropping against yours.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve been holding it in,” he admitted, voice thick with emotion. His arms curled around you, pulling you in impossibly close, like he was trying to mold you against him. “I thought maybe I was imagining it, you know? That maybe I was just reading too much into things, seeing what I wanted to see.” You smiled at the way he explained himself, the nervousness that still ran behind the words.

”No, I was definitely dropping some hints.” For a long moment, neither of you spoke. There was no need to. The silence wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable, it was charged, filled with the unspoken understanding between you, the realization that this was no longer just casual, that it had never really been.

Bucky shifted, pulling you onto his lap again so that you were straddling him, his hands cradling your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. His blue eyes were impossibly soft as he studied you, like he was trying to memorize every single detail. “I was so scared,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to ruin this.”

Your fingers traced along his jaw, tilting his chin slightly. “You didn’t ruin anything,” you reassured him, smiling softly. “You just made it better.”

Bucky let out a shaky breath before he leaned in, capturing your lips in another slow, lingering kiss. This one was different from the others—not rushed, not fueled by lust or desperation, but something deeper. His lips moved against yours gently, savoring the moment.

166 notes · View notes

bakedbeanz707 · 2 days ago

Text

Man this is amazing! Story and smut! I love it

My Desire

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader(Ex-HYDRA)

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!, Mentions of Past Violence/Blood, Mentions of Stabbing (the reader has a scar from an incident involving Bucky/The Winter Soldier), Swearing, PTSD, Bucky kind of goes through some guilt in this, Enemies to Lovers, Fake Relationship Trope, BDSM Club Mission, Unintended Voyeurism, Mentions/References to Exhibitionism, Smut; fingering, oral sex (fem! Receiving), spitting, some nipple play, handjob, a bit of a praise kink if you squint, a little bit of a pain kink if you squint, P in V sex (unprotected, you know the drill though…Wrap it before going heels to Jesus), Shower Sex . Beefy Bucky is the current squeeeeeeeze if y’all know what I mean.

Author's Note: Wheew, I decided to take the trope of Enemies to Lovers and Fake Relationships to the next level. Ah, I love tropes, especially when you can throw everything and the kitchen sink at it. I did change some contextual stuff up a little bit just to suit the needs of the story. Hope y’all enjoy :) Sorry it took so long to get a new piece out btw, I’ve been studying for a licensing thing and that’s been literally consuming my time!

Word Count: 23,866

The air in the debriefing room was thick and suffocating when you walked in that morning. The night before you had received an urgent call from Maria Hill asking if you could attend a meeting for the next day, you were caught off guard by the request, but you were also curious as to what she was going to assign you, so you had taken the opportunity and agreed.

Maria stood at the front of the room, face flat, unreadable. You could sense there was someone else in the room, noticing one of the chairs was turned away from you, but out of the corner of your eye you could see the slight shine of the all-too-familiar metal arm, only now it was black, shiny, a new model. Your stomach dropped almost in an instant, a deep-seated regret immediately hitting you in the face. The chair turned, and you were met with the cold, desolate blue eyes, and scowl that you had seen on CCTV and up close. He was the shell of someone you once thought you knew.

Bucky Barnes.

He leaned back in his seat with his broad arms crossed over his chest, looking almost as irritated as you. He looked like he had gained a lot more muscle since the last time you saw him, and it was evident just by the way his biceps strained against the fabric of his t-shirt, and how he shifted uncomfortably in the chair he was in, his thighs spreading slightly to try and find a position he felt good in. He had trimmed his hair, it was not instantly noticeable, but when you replayed your last interaction in your head daily, it was easy to recognize the changes he physically made to himself.

“Just the person I wanted to see at 8 am.” He muttered, the words edging with sarcasm, casting a pointed look at Maria. You let out a slow, exaggerated exhale.

”Can’t believe you’re still fucking breathing.” You commented, watching him glance over his shoulder, tilting his head.

”Disappointed?” He asked mockingly.

”Absolutely devastated.” Bucky huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

”Yeah, guess we can’t all get what we want.” Your fingers twitched at your sides.

”Oh, I don’t know,” You mused, “Last time I checked, you got exactly what you wanted. A knife through my fucking chest, if I’m remembering correctly of course.” He groaned.

”Can’t believe you’re still going on about that. It’s been two years, sweetheart. Get over it.” You could feel your blood curdling beneath your skin, as you balled your hands into tight fists.

”Get over it? I was hospitalized for almost seven months.” He spun around on his chair to face you, one eyebrow raised.

”And? You’re still here are you not? You scoffed at him.

“Yeah, walking proof that you failed your fucking mission.” `He rolled his eyes.

”Not like I didn’t try to finish the job, remember?” Your jaw clenched at his comment, a phantom pain itching in the middle of your chest, radiating down to the center of your sternum, the exact spot his knife had pierced through, where he had twisted.

“Oh, I remember. Evidently, you do too. You must get off to it.” You spat back, watching as Bucky’s smirk vanished from his face. You could’ve sworn you heard the metal of his hand squeaking when he balled it up in a fist. You should’ve stopped there, but you couldn’t let this one go.

”You must really love replaying it,” You sneered, “The way I was pinned under you, screaming at you to let me go, the begging, and the way you took such fucking pleasure in driving that knife in slow-.” Bucky moved so fast you barely saw it coming. He was in your space in a split second, towering over you, his eyes burning holes through yours.

”You going to keep talking?” His voice was low and threatening, his eyes studying you, looking at the way you didn’t back down and recoil. He could see the fire in your eyes, the rage shaking behind them.

“Oh? Did I hit a nerve?” You said, feigning shock, poking the bear even more, watching his jaw clench.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” He growled, stepping closer, his hot breath now fanning over your face, once again you didn’t move back.

“You may have everyone else fooled with your ‘I was brainwashed by HYDRA, I had no control’ schtick, but you and I both know that’s just bullshit.” Bucky’s metal hand immediately launched out at you, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt, yet you remained still, your breath hitching in your throat. Maria jumped into action quickly, making her way over to the scene.

“HEY!” She yelled, putting herself between the both of you, one hand pressing against Bucky’s chest, while the other pushed against your shoulder, attempting to separate the impending fight before it started. Neither of you broke eye contact, as Maria continued to try to make additional space, “Let go of her Bucky.” She commanded, he didn’t flinch, his grip only tightened more, his ice-cold gaze staring at you.

“You want to start something?” Maria added, “Because I promise you, you will not like how it fucking ends. Now let. Go.” She demanded through clenched teeth. There is a beat of silence that comes up between the three of you, as he slowly unclenches his hand, releasing your shirt from his grasp. You shake yourself out a bit, adjusting your top which had now been stretched from how hard he pulled you, the neckline now hanging loosely on your chest. Maria spun around on her heel, looking at you.

“Do you have a fucking death wish?” She snapped.

“You’re the one that brought him here, what did you expect me to do? Give him a warm welcome?” She let out a frustrated sigh.

“No. I expect you to act like a professional.” She replied, taking a step closer, “But instead you’re playing chicken with someone who can snap your neck like a twig if he wanted to.” You felt your jaw clench at her words, seething at the tone she was taking.

“And what about him?! He’s the one that got physical first.” She shook her head.

“Yeah because you baited him for a reaction.” She shot back, “We have invested a lot of time and effort undoing what HYDRA did to him. But you can’t be surprised when he has a very human reaction when reminded of the things he’s done in the past.” You could practically feel your blood boiling at this point, hearing the condescending tone she was taking.

“Sure. Let’s just keep making excuses for poor little Bucky who’s trying to figure out how to be a person again.” He stiffened at your words, it wasn’t obvious, but you could see the slight shift.

“Well. At least HYDRA made me useful for something. What’s your excuse?” The second the words left his mouth you saw red.

“Okay. That’s enough!” Maria yelled before you could say anything back, before you could retaliate. Bucky watched you carefully, knowing he won that round. Maria dragged a hand down her face, already exhausted from this encounter, realizing it was only going to get worse once she gave a debrief on the mission she needed to assign them.

“Can we all just please…Sit the fuck down now so we can get on with this meeting?” She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. You squinted at Bucky, seeing a smirk come up on his face, as he turned around and returned to his seat, the chair creaking under his weight. You huffed, biting into your cheek while you walked to the other side of the conference table, taking a seat opposite of him, avoiding his eyes which were now watching you.

“Alright…” Maria sighed, grabbing two manilla folders from the front cart near the television, sliding one toward you, and the other toward Bucky. You flipped open the file without hesitation, scanning the contents inside, glancing across from you to see that Bucky mirrored your actions, though you could sense he was not paying attention fully.

Timothy Orkolov was the target's name, aged 48, nationality Russian, known aliases; ‘Red Fang’. A high-resolution CCTV image of him was stapled to the corner of the first page. He was midstride, dressed in a long, navy blue, double-breasted overcoat, and black dress pants, with sunglasses pushed against his face, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His salt and pepper beard was trimmed with precision, and his dark brown hair was slicked back and shiny. He looked like a businessman, that was for sure.

"Orkolov has been on our radar for over two years," Maria began, tapping her fingers against the table, her gaze flickering from you to Bucky, "He isn’t just an arms dealer, he’s a facilitator. A broker of power. He’s connected to corrupt officials, private militias, and underground trade networks spanning across Europe. He doesn’t just sell weapons, he sells wars." You glance up at Bucky, watching his jaw tighten slightly at Maria's brief description.

“Great…So he’s a criminal. Why haven’t you guys sent out agents from your team, why do you need us?” You ask, pushing the file away and sitting back in your chair.

“Because we have already sent in our regular agents. Three times actually. They all ended up dead. Does that answer your question?” You glance over at Bucky, who is still flipping through the file, ignoring the conversation.

“So instead of sending one of your own, you decided it was a good idea to throw us at the problem instead? What are we? Expendables?”You questioned, Maria tapped her fingers against the table, feeling an argument beginning.

“No. You’re necessary. We were able to get both of you on his guest list at his club ‘The Velvet Fang’. That’s one step further than the other times we’ve attempted to get someone in.” There is a hint of familiarity that flashes in Bucky’s eyes, as he pushes the file away as well, you can see behind his stoic expression that the cogs in his head are turning.

“Did you use our real names?” He asked, his voice stern, almost like he knew the answer already.

“Yes…Yes, we gave them your real names.” Maria responded quietly, knowing that she had made a mistake. Bucky scoffs.

“No wonder we got on the list…” He ran his hand over his face, glancing over at you, seeing the confusion in your eyes.

“We needed to establish credibility,” Maria said, her voice choking up, a little on edge, not knowing what Bucky was going to do next.

“You needed credibility,” He repeated, the sharp tone of rage boiling beneath his words, “So you decided to hand our names to him on a silver platter? How could you think that was a good idea?” He questioned.

“We had no other ch-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Maria!” He snapped, turning his anger towards you now, “And how could you not be freaking out about this?!” You looked at him now, shrugging.

“Hey, it’s not a life-or-death situation for me. Unlike you, my name isn’t attached to war crimes, assassinations, and a century-long kill list.” He breathed in slowly, trying to compose himself, attempting to lower his anger.

“Just because you couldn’t stomach your orders and defected from HYDRA doesn’t mean anything. How do you think I tracked you down?” He shot back.

“That has no connection to this. Orkolov wouldn’t want anything to do with me because I’m not a fucking animal, an ex-HYDRA member with no hits is not a hot commodity for people like him.” Bucky sat back, his hands rubbing along his pants.

“Being a passive participant doesn’t stop an arms dealer from using you. It’ll be very easy to get you back into your old programming.” Maria looked over at you, watching as you dug your nails into your palm, your jaw clenching at his words.

“There is no old programming to go back to,” You bit out, “I never completed their training and I didn’t get the chair to try to erase who I was either, so you can stop fucking speaking.” You snapped.

“Okay guys, please…Before I start bleeding out of my ears, can we just get this meeting done?” Maria begged, with exhaustion lacing her voice, digging her fingers into her temples, massaging them slowly, “There’s one more thing I need to tell you.” You leaned on the table, letting out a humourless laugh.

“How much worse could it possibly get? Please. Enlighten us.” Bucky looked over at you out of the corner of his eye, then brought his gaze back to Maria’s, watching her shift nervously.

“You guys are going as a couple.” Silence. Dead, thick, suffocating silence. That’s all that hung in the room for the next couple of minutes. “It’s all in the file.” She added, looking down at her hands. The both of you immediately pulled your folders back to each other and flipped to the very last page, seeing the complete narrative that was devised for the both of you. Former HYDRA operatives. Defected together. Fell off the radar together. And now, resurfacing together.

“So that’s why you couldn’t send me with anyone else but him? You’re using our past as your little fucking token?” You questioned.

“I used it as an in. Orkolov doesn’t deal with outsiders. He doesn’t trust new faces. But a couple; one with a history, one with shared scars, one that understands the same darkness he does—that’s a story he’ll believe.” Bucky let out a sharp breath, the kind that sounded like he was seconds away from either punching a hole through the table or walking out of the room entirely. His jaw was tight, his fingers curling into a fist on his knee before he got up to start pacing.

“Your timelines together added up just right for this plan to even work, we couldn’t risk missing the opportunity.” She continued, as Bucky let out a laugh, shaking his head while he paced back and forth with his hands on his hips and his eyes locked onto the floor.

“Our timelines added up?” You repeated, incredulously, pushing the open file away from you once again, “You mean the years I spent trying to escape HYDRA? The fucking manhunt that followed me? The fact that he spent months trying to track me down and brought me to the edge of my fucking life?” You pointed at Bucky, who stopped pacing at the mention of the past, his body coiled tight, “That was just a nice little convenience for your little story huh?” Maria exhaled slowly.

”I know this is a lot-.”

“No,” Bucky cut her off, “A lot is being sent into a hostile situation. A lot is having our real names handed over to a man who probably wants us to reinstate our old HYDRA roles again.” He motioned between you and himself, his glare was all-encompassing, fury-filled, “But this? This is fucking insanity.” Maria nodded.

“I understand it is, and I’m sorry I didn’t run it by the both of you, but we are in a tight time crunch that you don’t seem to be seeing. A war is brewing, and we need intel to save lives, Bucky. You of all people should know what war does to someone.” The words came out of her without time to process what she was just about to say. You could see Bucky’s body go rigid, his breathing slowing down as if he were trying to calm himself. Maria had just thrown gasoline onto a blazing fire, and she knew it right away. You looked over at her, hoping, and waiting for her to backpedal, to apologize, but she held firm, staring at Bucky.

“You don’t get to use that against me.” Maria held his gaze.

“I won’t do it again…I just needed you to understand the direness of the situation.” He reached for the chair he had been sitting in, gripping the top of it, glancing over at you, trying to gauge what you were thinking, but at this point, you were unreadable, you were spaced out, looking at the table. You already realized there was no choice, and Maria wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

---—————-

“So let me get this straight. You and Bucky, the guy who literally almost gutted you like a fish, are going to fly to Vienna, so that you can attend a party and meet a guy who will probably end up either killing the both of you or recruiting you into his little ring of friends?” Natasha asked, her voice edging with something between amusement and disbelief. She lay sprawled out across your bed, watching you rummage through your closet, throwing shirts, jackets, and pants onto the ground as you attempted to find something that would make you blend into The Velvet Fang.

“That about sums it up.” You muttered, tossing another article of clothing to the side. Natasha let out a low whistle, flipping onto her stomach so she could rest her chin on her palm, a smirk plastered on her face. You looked over your shoulder, seeing her ice-blue eyes studying you.

“So…When’s the wedding?” She asked jokingly, trying to lighten the conversation. You rolled your eyes, stepping over the pile of clothes that surrounded you, and throwing yourself down on the bed with a loud thump.

“Please I am in no mood for your jokes.” You groaned, opening your eyes to stare up at the ceiling, your hands lying flat on your stomach. Natasha hummed.

“No jokes? Damn…This must really be killing you.” You shook your head.

“If it was anyone else I would be completely fine with it, but I can see he’s still unstable. You saw me when I defected from HYDRA, I was an absolute mess, it took me months to undo what they did, and I was only there for a year tops. Bucky had been their fucking plaything for decades, there’s no possible way he’s somehow reformed and completely fine.” You explained.

“So you’re scared he’s gonna snap and try and kill you again?” She asked softly, letting the question linger in the air, watching the way you shifted uncomfortably against the mattress.

“I’m not scared of him.” She arched her brow.

“Let’s not try to deflect the real question I just asked you Y/N.” You broke eye contact with her, not wanting to stare at her observant gaze. She knew you too well. She already had her answers. She just wanted to hear it from you.

“It’s not about him trying to kill me, Nat. We are coming face to face with someone who knows about our past with HYDRA. Who knows how long he has had to try and plan something against us. He knows we’re coming, we are on his list. What happens if Orkolov pushes the wrong buttons, and Bucky just loses it? Who do you think he’ll take out first? Hmm?” You asked, feeling the mattress shift, noticing Natasha getting up and walking over to the pile of clothes, shuffling through it to see if she could find something for you herself.

“If he wanted to, if he still had it in him…He would’ve done it when he saw you this morning. Even after you pushed his buttons he didn’t try to put in the kill shot. If it was Winter Soldier Bucky…You would’ve been a bloodstain on that conference room floor.” Natasha’s words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. You swallowed hard, shifting on the bed, your fingers idly tracing the seam of your sleeve. You wanted to argue, to push back against her calm logic, but you couldn’t. Because deep down, you knew she was right. You sat up on your elbows, looking over at her pulling out a short black dress from the pile that you had overlooked, holding it up to herself for a brief moment before tossing it at you.

“This’ll work.” You eyed it skeptically.

“That thing barely has enough fabric to cover my ass…” She smirked.

“I’m pretty sure people at The Velvet Fang will appreciate it.” You ran your hand over the silky material, a defeated sigh escaping your throat.

“I can’t believe I’m putting myself out on display like this.” You muttered, lying down on the mattress again, a wave of nausea pouring up your stomach.

“You’re not. You’re just going to be a little bit of eye candy. Nobody is going to be hitting on you, especially if you’re with Bucky.” She pointed out. Her words were meant to be reassuring but they only made your stomach churn even more.

“Great…So now instead of kicking him out a window, I need to hide behind him to ignore any advances.” Natasha laughed, crossing her arms as she leaned against your dresser.

“I wish I could be there to see you play the doting little girlfriend, all wrapped up in her dangerous bad boy boyfriend. You’re gonna have to play nice.” You closed your eyes tightly.

“I’m going to throw myself out of the fucking plane while we’re in the air…That’s the only way I could get out of this.”

“C’mon. Now you’re just being dramatic. You should be taking this as an opportunity to let loose a little bit.” You groaned.

“If letting loose is code for committing manslaughter, I will happily let loose.” Natasha sighed.

“No manslaughter. Just try and have fun. You need to be convincing, if you’re looking miserable with someone who you’re supposed to love, Orkolov will immediately know. You’ll have to practice at least a bit so you two can loosen up and look natural.”

--—————————

Natasha’s words were running through your head the entire time you sat across from Bucky in the jet. The cabin was quiet, apart from the low hum of the engines and the occasional crackle of the intercom. You sat stiffly in your seat, looking at the glass of water on the table in front of you, watching the way it vibrated gently. You could hear him picking at the stitches of the leather seat, trying to distract himself, not wanting to say anything to you, but you could feel his presence, like an itch beneath your skin.

Without Maria, the both of you made an unspoken agreement to avoid having a conversation altogether. But now, halfway into the flight, the silence was starting to wear on you. You had avoided his eyes for the entire time, but when you leaned forward to reach for the glass you had been staring at you could hear the noise of his picking halt and his breath hitch. You looked up at him, seeing the way his jaw was clenched, and how he wasn’t staring at your face, but lower.

“What? What did I-” You looked down at yourself and paused, realizing that in the moment you had moved forward you loose zip up sweater did as well, exposing the top of his handy work. The top part was jagged, where he had twisted and applied pressure, almost like he wanted to break your chest open. You swallowed loudly, remembering the taste of blood that flooded your mouth in those moments before quickly straightening the fabric, bringing the zipper up all the way to your neck. The silence between the both of you stretched with fragility, you were expecting him to look away, but he couldn’t. He cleared his throat, and when he finally spoke he was quieter, his tone almost hollow.

”I didn’t…I didn’t realize it looked like that.” His words were uneven, shaky, and it made you pause. He wasn’t just shocked, he was horrified. You could see the way his fingers twitched, the way they dug into the fabric of his pants like he was trying to ground himself. It felt like someone had split his ribcage open and had begun to squeeze his lungs, wringing out all the air.

”Well…I don’t really go out showing it off to people.” You muttered, bringing your feet up to rest on the seat, so your knees were against your chest.

“I don’t remember…” He exhaled sharply, dragging his dark metal fingers through his hair, shaking his head, “I can’t remember doing it…” You hugged your knees closer to your chest, the weight of his words settling between you like a stone at the bottom of a lake. Bucky shook his head again as if he was trying to jog his memory so that he could rearrange the gaps.

”I remember tracking you.” You looked up at him, noticing the hint of frustration that glimmered in the dim lighting of the cabin. “I remember the order. I remember the fight, the way you used everything in your power to get me. You were…Trying to reach for your gun or a pager…Something, I don’t know.” You could feel your throat tighten, as you leaned forward to grab the glass of water, trying to wash down the lump that was forming, “Then I slammed you on the floor…But the moment it happened…It’s blank like someone ripped it out of my head. It’s a black hole.” You traced the rim of the glass. You didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he had done it or the fact that they wiped it from his memory.

“Lucky you I guess.” You whispered under your breath, taking another swig of water, feeling it cool your chest. His eyes narrowed.

”Can’t believe you would say something like that.” His voice was quiet.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You replied, settling the glass down on the table with a little more force than necessary, “You don’t carry it the way I have to.”

“I may not remember what I did to you, but do you really think I don’t wake up every fucking day knowing that there are pieces of me…Of the things that I’ve done…That I can’t even remember or be sorry for? I’d rather remember all of it than have these fucking gaps, where I have no idea who I was, what I did, or who I hurt.” His words sat on your chest. There was a part of you that wanted to lash out at him, to shove all the pain back at him with full force, to remind him that no matter how much he suffered you would never forgive him for what he did, that was just the honest truth. But then there was something under the surface, the haunting look in his eyes, the way he seemed like he wanted to crawl into himself and die…It tugged at the person you once were. That person would’ve seen the man in front of them for what he was now, not for what he had been then, but she was buried beneath the layers of anger, beneath everything HYDRA had done to you both. You ran a hand down your face.

”Look…Bucky.” He lifted his head slightly at you, brows knitting together, “I don’t know what you want me to say. That it’s fine? That I don’t think about it? I can’t lie to you about that.” He swallowed hard, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table, his hands clasping together.

”All I want is for you to know…That I’d take it back if I could, and that…I’m sorry.” The sincerity in his voice unsettled you. It was easier when he was cold, when he was just the Winter Soldier and not the man left in the aftermath. You wanted to hold onto your anger, to clutch it tight like it was your armour, but it was slipping through your fingers like sand. You exhaled slowly, staring down at your hands.

”I know…”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” He said, voice low, “I don’t even know if I’d want you to.” You looked at him, the both of you holding each other’s eyes.

”I don’t know if I can…But I know you mean it.” Bucky held your gaze for a moment longer, like he was searching for something in your face, something you weren’t sure you could give him. Then he nodded, a small, barely-there movement, and looked down at the table between you. You sighed, shifting in your seat.

”We still need to come up with a story that we are going to tell Orkolov if he asks us about our past.” Bucky rubbed the sweat off his palm.

”Yeah…Forgot about that.” He sat back in his seat, tilting his head against the headrest, eyes flicking toward the light above the both of you, “So, where do we start?” You shoved your hands into your sweater pocket.

”We can’t make it too perfect. If it’s too clean, he will know we rehearsed it, and that we’re lying.” He nodded, rolling his shoulders.

”Alright. So, we need just enough truth to give it that believability.” You nodded. He drummed his fingers against his knee.

”We start with HYDRA. Orkolov knows that we both left the place. I don’t know if he knows how much involvement you had in the place but we can keep it vague.”

”We can say I was assigned to intelligence. Data collection, infiltration? Something that didn’t leave much of a paper trail.” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “That’ll also explain why my name doesn’t come up as often as yours, and I won’t have to explain why I really left.” Bucky hummed in agreement, rubbing his jaw as he thought it over.

”That works. They trained you but it was separate from the rest of us. They won’t suspect anything.” You gulped, pushing away the memories before they had a chance to settle into you.

”So how did we end up meeting then?” You questioned.

”When you defected, they sent me after you.” He responded simply, “It’ll explain the scar, and the reason why you’re not dead.” You shifted in your seat.

”Right…Because you hesitated.” A lie, but it was believable. Bucky nodded once.

”Something about you made me stop. I didn’t understand why, and I let you go.” You inhaled deeply.

”And HYDRA dragged you back in and wiped you again, tried to erase whatever it was that made you hesitate to finish the job.” He looked at you.

”But it didn’t stick, and then I found you again.” You swallowed, slowly nodding, glancing down at your hands as you traced the storyline in your mind, fitting the pieces together intricately, patching up whatever holes would be in the story.

”How?” Bucky shrugged.

”I don’t know, maybe I just started remembering things I wasn’t supposed to. Then I knew I needed to find you.” You took a steady breath.

”So you found me…And we made a pact to stick together, then somewhere along the way we got close. We had no one else, relied on each other, and just…Fell into it.” This was all just a cover, a fabrication designed to protect you both. But as you studied Bucky’s face, the way his fingers twitched slightly on the table, the way his throat bobbed with an unspoken thought, you realized just how convincing it sounded, even to yourselves. He cleared his throat, letting out a small cough.

”Yeah, I think that story is easy to sell.” You ran through it together once again, ironing out the little details, and making sure there were no weaknesses. Once you were finished there was only an hour left before you landed in Vienna, and thankfully things had cooled down a bit.

”Alright. So we stick to that story, no hesitations, no second guessing.” He nodded, his fingers tapping against the table.

”And what about the physical stuff?” He asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You looked at him, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed against the table like he was trying to find a rhythm to keep himself grounded. He didn’t like the idea any more than you did, but you both knew it was necessary.

”It has to look and be natural.” You responded, “If we’re stiff or uncomfortable Orkolov will immediately see it. We don’t have to overdo it, but we can’t act like we are business partners either.” You added, taking another sip of your water.

”So, what’s the expectation here? Hand on your back? Arm around your waist? Holding hands? K-Kissing?” He stuttered on the last word, covering it up with a forced cough, his eyes flicking away from you. You could feel the nausea building in your stomach again, as you gulped down the rest of the water, trying to buy yourself time to cool yourself down.

“Touching needs to look natural, with no flinching or discomfort. We can’t force it. We take the opportunities when it feels like the right time.” You paused momentarily, “And kissing will happen only if necessary.” You clarified.

“Right,” He muttered, “Only if necessary.” You shifted again, absentmindedly scratching at the scar on your chest.

”If we don’t think about it so much, we will be fine.” Bucky nodded, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shifting in his seat before looking at you again.

“Maybe we should practice.” He suggested, his voice low. Your eyebrows raised at him, and he realized what he had said, “Not…not everything, obviously, it’s just to get used to it. If we go in cold, it’ll be obvious we don’t know how to act around each other.” You hated that he had a point, it would be obvious if the both of you were looking like you were being held at gunpoint by one another every time you touched, practice was a necessary evil unfortunately.

“Alright. What do you want to start with?” Bucky hesitated.

”Hand holding would be good I guess.” He exhaled, wiping his sweaty palm on his pants before bringing his right hand onto the table, facing it palm up. You shook your head.

”What?” He asked, looking at his hand, then back at you.

“I want the metal one.” He looked down at it.

“It’s vibranium.” He corrected quietly. You rolled your eyes.

”Okay. I want the vibranium one. Better?” He sighed, lifting his left hand up and placing it on the table between you. The dark material shined beneath the light, the small slivers of gold contrasting against the harsh black that lined the entire appendage. You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his. You expected the cool metal against your skin but got something different.

”Do you have a heater in this thing or something? Why is it so warm?” You asked, earning a small laugh from him, your thumb running over the palm of his hand, watching the slivers of gold pulsing when he moved his fingers slightly.

”I had it under my thigh when we were going over our little cover-up story.” He admitted. You raised a brow at him, your lips twitching upward.

”So what? You were preheating it for me?” He shook his head.

”Didn’t expect you to ask for the vibranium hand, so I guess it was just luck.” You hummed at his comment, trailing your fingers up his forearm, feeling the smooth, almost seamless transition between the plates. It was strange how human it felt, despite what it was.

“Can I ask what happened to the other one?” You could feel his fingertips twitch against your skin at the question, and for a moment he didn’t say anything, then he looked up at you.

“Stark blew it off…Back at a HYDRA facility in Siberia.” He responded, his voice flat, unaffected. You were surprised by this anecdote, and you were even more caught off guard that Steve never told you this, not that you ever asked about Bucky, he knew that subject was off limits.

“I didn’t know that.” He nodded.

“Yeah…I did attack him technically so it wasn’t unprovoked.” He admitted, breaking eye contact, “I’m pretty sure it also happened when you were in the hospital so that’s why you weren’t privy to what was going on.” You hadn’t considered that before, how much had happened in the world while you were recovering, piecing yourself back together in a sterile hospital room, drowning in silence while everything kept moving without you. He watched your fingers tracing the small patterns on his arm until you reached his hand again, hesitating for a moment before you laced your fingers between his. Neither of you spoke, you just sat, watching the way your hands fit together, squeezing slightly when adjusting your grips. His fingers closed around yours with a surprising amount of gentleness.

“This is…A little weird.” Bucky admitted.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Neither of you let go, though.

“You don’t have to keep holding it if it makes you uncomfortable.” He muttered, his eyes flickering up to yours.

“It’s not uncomfortable.” You responded, shaking your head. He went to say something, but before he could the pilot got on the intercom.

“We’re approaching Vienna,” The pilot announced, causing the both of you to look up, “Please fasten your seatbelts.” You looked back at him, and with slight reluctance, let his hand go. As the jet began its descent, the hum of the engines shifted, and the subtle change in angle caused your stomach to drop. You adjusted your seatbelt tightly against your stomach, glancing over at Bucky, who was relaxing in his spot, looking totally unbothered.

“Are you always this relaxed when the plane is landing?” You asked, a wave of nausea bubbling in your stomach as you adjusted your grip on the armrest.

“Yeah pretty much. Been on enough planes to know when to start panicking.” A groan escaped your throat, trying to ease the sickness.

“That’s really not helping right now.” Bucky smirked, adjusting himself in his seat.

“What? You want me to lie to you? Tell you we’re perfectly safe?” He mocked, as you groaned again at the turbulence.

“Yes,” You gritted your teeth, “A lie would be great.”

“Alright, alright.” He said, leaning forward slightly, “This is the smoothest landing I’ve ever been on. There’s nothing to worry about. The pilot is probably doing this with his eyes closed.” He whispered, holding back his laughter. You squinted at him.

“That didn’t help either.” You said, squeezing the armrest again. He sighed, reaching his vibranium hand out, and tapping his fingers against the table to get your attention.

“Instead of taking your anger out on the leather…And for practice, since I can tell you’re uncomfortable and a boyfriend would offer some form of comfort.” You let out a small laugh, “And considering you looked less miserable when you were holding it earlier…Thought it would be worth a shot.” Once again the jet moved and your stomach lurched.

“Okay okay!” You exclaimed, grabbing onto his hand, feeling his fingers wrap around yours instantly.

“Are you going to be sick?” You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly. Bucky’s grip was firm but not constricting, the warmth from his vibranium fingers grounding you as you exhaled through your nose.

"Are you sure?" He asked again, quieter this time. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, the small motion doing more to settle you than anything else had so far.

"Yeah, just-" You inhaled sharply as the wheels made contact with the runway, the force of the landing pressing you back against your seat. You squeezed his hand a little harder than you probably needed to, but he didn’t say anything, he just let you hold on as long as you needed to.

When the plane finally came to a halt, the pressure in your stomach eased. You opened your eyes, releasing a slow breath before blinking up at him, seeing his eyebrows were raised.

“You good now?” He asked, his thumb still absentmindedly brushing against your knuckles.

”Mhm…” You exhaled, loosening your grip from his, though you hesitated before fully letting go, “I think I can walk out of this thing without embarrassing myself too much.” He retracted his hand, unbuckling his seatbelt.

”Would’ve been great if you puked all over the runway though.” You shot him a glare.

”Real supportive there Bucky.” You replied, unbuckling your seatbelt as well, standing up from your spot.

”Hey, I held your hand.” He shrugged, a small laugh escaping his mouth.

”I’m going to put that on your fake boyfriend record…Decent under pressure, but D minus for aftercare.” He smirked.

”Duly noted, I’ll be sure to add something to your fake girlfriend record too.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing your duffle bag from under your seat, throwing it over your shoulder.

“Hey hey. No. Hand me the bag.” He protested, causing your gaze to snap to his.

”What?” You questioned, your eyebrows knitting together.

”We have no idea if they’re already watching, I might as well be seen as a gentleman, not a douchebag that lets his partner carry her alarmingly large bag on her own.” You sighed, rolling your eyes but handing over the duffle bag anyways.

”If you start complaining about how heavy it is, I’m taking it back.” Bucky scoffed, effortlessly slinging the bag over his shoulder alongside his own.

“I’ve carried bodies heavier than this.” He responded.

”Wow. How romantic.” You shot back sarcastically, while walking towards the exit of the jet.

”It’s just part of the charm, sweetheart.” You could feel your cheeks heat up slightly at the nickname, as the cold Vienna air washed over your face. The tarmac was quiet, save for the faint buzzing of the airport staff moving around in the distance. Once you had walked down the steps you waited for Bucky before proceeding to the sleek black car that idled at the curb, it’s glossy surface reflecting the warm glow of the nearby streetlights. A man leaned casually against the trunk, arms crossed over his chest. His attire is meticulous; a well-fitted suit, dark leather gloves, and a wide-brimmed hat casting a subtle shadow over his sharp features. He looked extremely professional, though his posture had an air of indifference, like he’d been standing there too long and was ready to be anywhere else. When he had seen the both of you approaching he immediately straightened out, a small smile coming up on his face.

”Mr. Barnes.” He greeted, giving him a nod, “Welcome to Vienna.”

”Thank you.” The driver’s gaze then flickered toward you, as he gave you a nod as well.

”It’s a pleasure to have you as well Mrs…?” Bucky didn’t hesitate.

”Hopefully Mrs. Barnes one day,” He said smoothly, his arm slipping around your waist, fingers resting very lightly at your hip. You were caught off guard by how effortlessly he delivered the line, but you held a casual smile. The driver’s eyebrows lifted slightly, smirking, clearly entertained by Bucky’s response.

”A man with a plan. I respect that.” You forced a laugh, leaning into the act as much as possible.

“Always so charming.” You commented, resting your hand on his rigid abdomen. The driver smiled.

”Well, let’s get you two lovebirds to the hotel then!” He exclaimed, clasping his hands together as he walked towards the drivers side of the car. Bucky’s grip on your waist tightened just enough to remind you of the role you were playing, as he let go, moving to the trunk to put your duffle bags into it. You slid into the backseat, with Bucky following close behind. The leather interior was soft against your back as the both of you settled in, relaxing on your respective sides.

The car eased away from the airport, quickly merging onto the quiet streets of Vienna. The city was bathed in the golden glow of streetlights, the architecture looked regal and timeless against the dark sky, if you weren’t here for a mission you would’ve loved to explore more. The hum of the engine filling the space between you and Bucky. The driver adjusted his rearview mirror so he could look at the both of you.

”So, are you guys celebrating something special?” He asked, his voice casual as he maneuvered the car through the empty city streets.

“Our one year anniversary actually.” Bucky answered without hesitation. The driver let out a whistle.

”Wow, one year huh? That’s always a big one. First anniversaries are always special.” The driver’s enthusiasm was palpable, his grin wide and toothy. “First year of a relationship can always be the hardest they say, what’s the secret to making it?” He asked, glancing back at the road.

”Patience, and knowing when to pick your battles.” Bucky responded. You let out a short laugh at his response.

”That’s very funny coming from you.” Bucky smirked, glancing at you.

”What? You disagree?” You tilted your head, pretending to mull it over.

”Let’s say you have a very selective definition of ‘picking your battles.’” The driver chuckled at the interaction.

”It sounds like the both of you keep each other on your toes.”

“You could say that,” You replied, a playful tone lacing your voice, as you shot Bucky a knowing look.

“That’s how you know it’s real though. You guys can argue, but at the end of the day, you still choose each other.” He paused, then added, “You two planning anything special while you’re here?” Bucky hummed, glancing over at you before responding.

”Haven’t locked anything down yet, but we had some ideas. Sightseeing, going to some top rated restaurants, maybe a little dancing.” The driver nodded.

“Well, if you’re looking for ideas, you picked a great city to celebrate in.” He gestured out the windshield as he made a turn. “Vienna’s got something for everyone. You into history? The Schönbrunn Palace is breathtaking. Art? You can’t miss the Belvedere Museum. Or maybe you want something more intimate, the sunset at the Danube Tower is unforgettable.” Bucky drummed his fingers lightly against his thigh.

”Oh you’ve definitely given us some great suggestions, it’s going to be hard to narrow it down.” You nodded, agreeing with him, the mission still looming in the back of your mind.

”You know…You two remind me of my wife and I when we first started going out.” Bucky raised a brow, glancing over at you.

”Yeah?”

”Definitely,” He responded, his hands steady on the wheel, “Always teasing, making little quips at each other, but at the end of the day there was never any doubt that we were solid.” He turned down another street, “That’s how you know it’s real. When you can drive each other absolutely crazy and you still wouldn’t trade them for the world.” Bucky let out a small chuckle, shaking his head, glancing over at you.

”Well, we’ve definitely got the ‘driving each other crazy’ part down…Don’t we doll?” You wanted to nudge him in the ribs, but you held yourself back.

”Oh yeah. Definitely.” The driver let out a hearty laugh, as the car slowed, approaching a grand hotel. Its entrance was illuminated by the soft glow of golden lanterns, the stairs leading up to the towering glass doors were lined with polished stones, where a doorman in a crisp uniform stood at attention, watching him coming down the steps as soon as the vehicle came to a stop.

”Well, lovebirds, here we are.” The driver announced with a grin as he shifted the car into park, “Welcome to the Imperial!” Bucky exhaled through his nose, glancing over at you, a look of relief washing over his face. He must’ve been itching to get out of the car right when the driver started asking questions. Bucky took his wallet out quickly, handing the man a tip.

“Thank you for the ride.” He said, wasting no time opening the door and stepping out, holding his hand out for you to grab, still trying to keep up appearances.

“Enjoy your stay! And remember, don’t sweat the small stuff.” Bucky leaned down to look at the man.

”We’ll keep it in mind. Thank you again.” He responded politely, closing the door behind him, as the doorman opened the trunk of the car.

“Welcome to the Imperial! I’ll bring your bags in for you, no need to wait for me, you can go and get yourselves checked in.” Bucky gave the doorman a quick nod. You could tell he was eager to get inside and escape the unnecessary small talk, just like you at this point. His hand pressed lightly against your lower back, as he gestured for you to head towards the entrance first.

The moment you stepped inside, the warmth of the hotel lobby enveloped you, a stark contrast to the bitter night air that was brewing outside. The Imperial exuded luxury in every detail; polished marble floors reflected the golden glow of crystal chandeliers overhead, and the faint scent of fresh lilies mingled with the rich aroma of tobacco, like someone had lit a cigar and left it out to marinate. Ornate columns framed the space, leading toward an opulent sitting area where a handful of late-night guests lingered over drinks, their laughter a quiet murmur beneath the soft classical music playing from hidden speakers. You both walked by, garnering their attention for a brief moment before they returned back to their conversations.

Behind the counter, a woman in her mid-thirties with sharp cheekbones, deep red lipstick, and perfectly slicked back brown hair stood, looking at her computer screen with an emotionless expression, nothing behind the eyes.. When she heard you approaching her gaze flicked up, lingering on Bucky for just a little longer than necessary before looking at you. You could see her straighten her back, almost to puff her chest out, and her expression shifted into something more warm and inviting.

”Good evening! Welcome to the Imperial,” She greeted smoothly, her voice like silk against the air, “Do you have a reservation with us this evening?” Bucky gave her a small nod, taking out his wallet.

”Uh…It should be under Barnes. James Barnes.” You glanced over at him, watching him pull out a credit card that had his name scrawled on the back of it, handing it over to her so she could compare the information. She glanced at the card then her screen, scrolling through the list of guests.

”Ah,” She murmured, tapping the enter key, “Here you are. A deluxe suite. What an excellent choice.” Her smile widened ever so slightly, as she handed Bucky’s card back, letting her fingers graze his. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, it was barely noticeable. He took his card back, clearing his throat slightly.

”The deluxe suite is one of our finest…It’s spacious, private…Perfect for an…” She let the words linger, tilting her head a bit, “Intimate getaway.” You were growing increasingly uncomfortable with the interaction, and you could tell by the way Bucky was fidgeting he was probably in the same boat. He gave her a polite nod, slipping his card back into his wallet.

”It sounds like we got lucky.” The receptionist's smile didn’t waver, if anything it grew even wider.

“Oh, I’d say you’re very lucky, Mr. Barnes.” Her voice dipped just enough into suggestiveness that it caused Bucky’s grip on his wallet to tighten, as her eyes roamed over him. She picked up a black folder, sliding it towards him with ease.

”All the details of your stay will be in here, your key card, the room service menu, spa packages…” She trailed off, her manicured nails tapping against the folders edge, “And of course, if you need anything extra, I’d be happy to personally ensure your stay is perfect.” Bucky nodded stiffly, shifting his weight into you a bit, desperate to wrap this interaction up.

”I appreciate it.” He responded, stepping back a bit, as you took the folder from the desk. Before the receptionist could say anything else, the doorman came in, carrying both of your bags with practiced ease.

”Here we are!” He announced, “Would you like me to bring them up to your suite for you?” Bucky shook his head, jumping at the chance to break free from the lingering tension.

”No need. I got it.” He held his hand out, grabbing both bags from the man, throwing them over his shoulder, his biceps flexing against his fitted long sleeve shirt. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the receptionist’s gaze flicking downward, taking in the ease of his actions, obviously enjoying the view. You let out a small exasperated sigh, as you leaned into Bucky a little more, dragging your hand up his torso, feeling his muscles flinch slightly.

”Baby, can we please go up to the room now? I’ve been dying for a bit of privacy since we got off the plane.” He looked over at you, his eyes widened a bit, taken off guard by your sudden change in tone, now slipping in to save him from being flirted with.

”Of course…Yeah. Where are the elevators?” The both of you turned your attention back to the receptionist, seeing that her expression of lust had faltered just a bit, her smiling tightening at the edges.

”They’re going to be down the hallway to your left. Enjoy your stay.” Bucky didn’t waste a second, moving away from the desk, slipping his hand to your lower back guiding you to the elevators.

As soon as the doors slid closed, the both of you quickly unravelled yourselves from each other, standing on different sides of the elevator.

”Jesus Christ.” Bucky muttered, staring up at the mirrored ceiling, “That was awful.” You smirked.

”She was just being nice.” Bucky’s head snapped down.

”Nice? She was acting like she was going to rip my clothes off in the middle of the lobby. I was about five seconds away from running for my life.” You laughed.

”Who knew the Winter Soldier would be afraid of a little flirting.” Bucky scoffed.

”I’ve seen flirting before. That was not flirting.” He insisted, “And you could’ve stepped in a little sooner y’know.” You let out a soft laugh.

”Well, maybe I wanted to watch you simmer a little bit. You’re the one that went off kilter with the anniversary thing with the driver, it was just pay back.” Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, shifting his stance a bit, feeling the elevator stop on your floor.

”Yeah…I guess you’re right.” A ding echoed through the small space, signalling your arrival, “Let’s just get inside the room before she comes chasing after us asking if I want a private spa service or something.” He wasted no time stepping out of the elevator, adjusting his grip on the bags, with you following him closely down the lavishly decorated hallway. The plush navy carpet absorbed your footsteps, it felt like you were walking on memory foam. You took the keycard out of the folder the receptionist gave, as you reached your suite, sliding it through with euro hesitation, hearing the door click open, pushing it open wide before slipping into the suite.

You step in first, taking in the expansive suite with its elegant decor. The soft yellow lighting illuminates the room, casting a warm glow all over the navy accents that were strewn about the room. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city, and from way up there you could see things were still buzzing. It was undeniably luxurious, and for a moment, you almost forgot why you were there in the first place. Your eyes continued to skim over the accommodations, as Bucky stepped in behind you, dropping the bags in front of the closet, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Damn…Pretty fancy.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he began to wander. You stepped towards the windows, wanting to get a better look at the view, crossing your arms over your stomach to hold yourself. Bucky moved toward the small kitchenette, his fingers drumming along the marble countertop.

“Mmm…At least we got a free bottle of champagne.” He announced, as you looked over your shoulder, seeing him turn the bottle towards you, a smirk on his lips, placing it back down on the counter, so that he could continue to explore the suite further, disappearing behind a partially opened door. You heard him hum in mild amusement before poking his head out.

”You’d be happy to know that the bed is massive. You’re gonna love it.” You stepped away from the window, making your way toward the bedroom. The room matched the accents of the main living area, the deep navy, the gold accents, the thick carpeting, with a bed so big that it could at least fit three people comfortably.

“It’s nice.” Bucky smirked, watching as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

”There’s just one issue.” Bucky raised a brow.

”What?” You motioned to the wall opposite of the bed.

”There’s no TV in here…” He glanced at the wall.

”Guess they think people coming in here don’t need distractions.” You let out a quiet sigh.

”I can’t sleep without background noise.” You murmured, seeing Bucky’s face fall a bit, now realizing you were being serious. You slipped out of the bedroom, hearing Bucky’s footsteps following close behind.

”Is that a you thing or…Is that a HYDRA thing?” He asked, watching as you went over to the counter that had the bottle of champagne on it, ripping off the black foil.

”I think you can take a guess,” You responded, twisting the metal that was holding the cork on the bottle. His jaw ticked, not needing to push you any further for details, as he moved towards you, leaning against the counter, his fingers idly tapping against his bicep.

”I get it.” You threw the curled metal onto the counter, putting your hand over the cork, turning it slowly.

”Sure.” The tone was a bit dismissive, and you didn’t mean for it to sound that way, all you wanted to do was avoid the conversation about HYDRA.

”I sleep on the floor, with the lights on, and even when those conditions are met I still can’t get a normal night's rest. So I do get it Y/N.” Your movements faltered for a moment, your grip on the cork tightening. The tension in Bucky’s voice wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t light either. You swallowed thickly, letting the words settle between the both of you until the cork popped with a soft thud. You reached for the two tubular glasses and poured the champagne into them slowly, being mindful of the bubbles that frothed at the surface. Bucky stayed where he was, as you handed him a full glass.

”If you need the background noise you can sleep out here, if you want.” You glanced up at him.

“What?” He motioned towards the couch in the living room area.

”You can take the couch since I won’t be using it, and I don’t mind background noise…I probably won’t be sleeping tonight anyways.” You hesitated for a moment, taking a small sip from the champagne glass, letting the sweet, and bitter flavour mingle on your tongue.

“Couch it is…I guess.” You responded. Bucky gave a tiny, satisfied nod before raising his glass slightly, not as a toast, just as a simple acknowledgment of the situation, with you mirroring the same gesture, the both of you downing the whole glass in one go. The fizzy liquid burned slightly on the way down, but it was far from it being unpleasant. If anything, it helped take the edge off, even if it was just a little. Your tongue swiped across your lips, chasing the lingering taste.

“Well, that’s definitely a way to settle in.” You huffed a quiet laugh.

”Could be worse, we could be stuck in some rundown motel with paper-thin walls.” Bucky smirked, setting his empty champagne glass down on the counter with a quiet clink.

”I actually think if we were in a rundown motel less eyes would be on us.” You placed your glass down as well.

”Yeah, but then we’d have to deal with the possibility of bedbugs, a busted heater, and a crappy television set.”

”Sounds like a real test of endurance.” He quipped, as he grabbed the countertop with his hands.

”Mmm, real elite training there Bucky. Maybe throw in some mystery stains on the carpet for a little bit of spice.” He snorted, shaking his head as he reached for one of the mini bottles of whisky that came with the mini bar.

”Speaking of challenges, we should probably get something to eat before we start drinking more.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

”Did we get different super serums or something? Because I could’ve sworn I don’t get drunk and I’ve really tried to override that.” He smirked, twisting off the small cap from the bottle, taking a sip.

”No, we definitely have similar versions if you don’t get drunk, but then again I haven’t really ran into anyone else like us to ask this question.” You hummed, handing him the room service menu.

”Well, if we ever do, I think that’ll be the first question I ask. Forget the whole ‘where are you from, what’s your story’, I’m leading with ‘can you go through multiple large bottles of alcohol and not absolutely destroy your liver?’” Bucky laughed.

”Yeah, it’s definitely an important question to ask, skip all the pleasantries, get straight to the essentials.” You smirked, watching as he flipped open the menu, his eyes skimming along the items.

”Alright, what are we thinking? Fries? Sliders? Mystery meat from the hotel’s five-star kitchen?” You shrugged, leaning against the counter.

”Honestly, just order anything. As long as it’s not snails or something that still has a face.” He nodded, reaching for the phone.

”Don’t worry, I have the same sentiment. No fine dining nightmares.” You listened as he placed the order, keeping it simple with fries, sliders, and a charcuterie board because he wanted something to pick at. He also made sure to add the large bottle of whisky onto the order just before hanging up.

”They said it’ll be here in about thirty minutes.” He said, stretching his arms above his head to crack his back and neck.

”Alright, I’m gonna hit the shower first then since it’s gonna be a bit of a wait.” Bucky nodded.

”Go for it, I’ll make sure they don’t slip something into our food.” You made your way over to your bag, grabbing the pajamas you brought before heading toward the bathroom.

”Ever the soldier, Barnes.”

”Hey, it comes with the territory.” He shot back, as you closed the door behind you. The space was sleek and modern, all marble and gold accents, the kind of luxury that made you hesitate for a second. It felt too pristine, too untouched. You shook off the thought and turned the shower on, letting the water heat up as steam filled the room. You peeled your clothes off, leaving them in a small pile on the floor, before stepping under the boiling water, sighing as the heat ran over your skin. You could feel the tension in your muscles melt away, and for the first time in the last few hours, you felt yourself truly relax beneath the stream.

You ran your hands over your arms, watching the droplets of water slide over your skin, reaching over to pump a bit of body wash into your hand. The lush scent of lavender tickled your nose, as you ran the soap along the planes of your body, taking time with yourself to just absorb the calm environment. It wasn’t often that you got to enjoy something as simple as a hot shower without rushing, nor without your mind racing. You lingered longer than usual, running your hands over your body, tracing the rivulets of water as they slid down your skin. It felt indulgent in a way—like taking your time was a luxury.

After a while, the heat began to weigh on you, and you reached to turn off the water, stepping out onto the plush bath mat. The mirror was fogged over, your reflection blurring at the edges as you wiped a hand across the glass

You grabbed a towel, running it over your arms and legs before wrapping it around yourself. The air was noticeably cooler now that you were out of the shower, a stark contrast to the warmth you’d just been under. You stood for a moment, looking at your reflection before grabbing your pajamas, and pulling them on, starting with your baggy tan t-shirt, then ending with your shorts that you could barely see due to the length of the top. You stopped to look at your reflection for a moment, turning to the side to look at the three deep scar tissue marks on your outer thigh, your fingertips running along them, letting out a frustrated sigh, before fixing the shirt over it. You hung the damp towel on the back of the door, stepping back out into the main area of the suite, pushing your hair out of your face. Bucky was sitting at the little coffee table, pouring himself another glass of whiskey, looking up when the floor creaked.

His blue eyes scanned over you quietly. You could see the way they roamed up your bare legs, the way he stared at the oversized shirt that silhouetted over your figure. Just for a second you caught a subtle shift in his expression, but he didn’t say anything, he glanced back down at his glass, running his thumb over the rim of the glass. You weren’t sure if his reaction made you feel awkward, but you tried not to notice it, as you made your way to the seat across from him, seeing the food had already arrived and he had waited for you. The charcuterie board was neatly arranged, the sliders looked perfectly cooked, and the fries were still warm, the smell of salt and crisped potatoes filling the air.

“I’m impressed you didn’t rip this entire plate apart.” You said, reaching for a fry, before plopping yourself down on the seat in front of him. Bucky brought his glass of whiskey to his lips.

”Figured it’d be rude if I didn’t wait.” He explained, taking a sip. You hummed in approval, popping the fry into your mouth.

“How thoughtful.” Bucky’s eyes rested on yours for a moment, as he settled his glass down.

”You want some?” He asked, gesturing to the bottle of whiskey. You nodded, grabbing the empty glass in front of you, holding it out for him to pour into. The amber liquid sloshed around slightly, just before he set the bottle back down on the table. You brought the drink up to your lips, taking a small sip, feeling the heat spreading in your mouth, then down your throat. Bucky cleared his throat, gaining your attention.

”I just…I just want to ask.” He hesitated, looking through the glass coffee table at the three scars on your outer thigh. You traced his eyesight, and looked down, “Did I…?” You blinked, caught off guard for a second. He looked like he was bracing himself, waiting to hear another thing he had done that he completely forgot about. You immediately shook your head.

”No,” You replied. “It wasn’t you.” His shoulders relaxed, but the tension didn’t fully leave his face.

”Alright,” He muttered, his eyes still lingering on them, because now he was thinking about who might’ve done it to you.

”Bucky,” You said gently, drawing his attention back up to you, “You don’t have to hold your breath every time you notice something. Trust me, you would’ve known if you caused this.” Bucky nodded slowly, his fingers toying with the rim of his glass again.

“Just wanted to check.” You exhaled softly.

”I get it.” And you really did. His mind was just jumping to the worst-case scenario, as if it was easier for him to believe he was the cause of all the violence you had experienced in your life, rather than realize, for once, he wasn’t to blame.

The two of you continued to pick at the food, trading quiet conversation between bites, until exhaustion started to creep in. You glanced over at the clock, seeing that it was almost 3 o’clock in the morning, groaning as you pushed yourself up from your seat.

“I’m gonna grab the duvet off the bed,” You said, heading towards the bedroom. Bucky watched you disappear before he stood as well, stretching his arms above his head. By the time you returned with the thick duvet and matching pillow bundled in your arms, he had already grabbed a folded blanket from the closet, and was tossing it down onto the floor near the couch. You shifted past him, letting the duvet unravel in your hands, dropping it over the couch, adjusting it as you threw the pillow down on top of it, before sliding beneath the covering, pulling it up to your neck, letting out a sigh at the warmth.

Bucky turned on the television, and left on one of the side table lamps that was closest to him, as he got himself comfortable on the floor beside the couch, shaking his blanket out and carefully lowering himself down with ease, making it clear that it wasn’t his first rodeo. He let out a small groan, turning onto his side so he was facing the muddied infomercials that were on the screen, shifting so he could get comfortable.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the low hum of the television. The infomercials blurred into background noise, a comforting, monotonous buzz against the silence that had settled between the two of you. You lay on the couch, your head sinking into the pillow, but your mind wasn’t quite ready to shut off yet. You glanced over the side of the couch, looking at Bucky who was now laying on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, while his vibranium fingers flexed against the fabric of his shirt.

“Bucky.” You whispered, he hummed, opening his eyes to look up at you.

”Yeah?” He asks, a hint of concern lacing his voice.

“What are you thinking about?” You hear him swallow at the question, watching him shift a bit.

”The usual things I think about. Sometimes I get these headaches, and I get these…Memories of things. I don’t know if it’s from all the mind wiping they did to me, but it’s like it fills in the gaps.” You could see the tension in his jaw, and the way he was running his vibranium hand along his shirt, like he was trying to soothe himself.

”What kind of memories?” You asked softly.

”Not the good ones…It’s always people I don’t recognize, but it’s usually safe to assume I’ve hurt them in some way.” He whispered, “It’s not clear enough to tell. It’s fragments. A voice, a place, a feeling. I don’t even know if they’re real or not, because I don’t remember things completely, you know what I mean?” You nodded slowly, your fingers curling into the edge of the duvet.

”I get it.” You replied, his eyes flickered toward you.

”Yeah?” You exhaled slowly, shifting on the couch so you were in his line of sight.

”Well, I didn’t go through what you did, but after I escaped and defected, I went through a period where I was constantly having nightmares. I was an absolute wreck. I still have moments where I remember things and it scares the shit out of me, because it feels like I’m back there.” Bucky let out a small laugh, but it wasn’t one of amusement.

”Seems like we have something in common, some nights I wake up and it’s like I’m back there being pinned against the new soldiers all over again, getting the crap beat out of me because HYDRA wanted to see if they were as strong as their first prototype.” You could feel a shiver creep up your bones as you moved back a bit.

”I escaped before they could pin me against you.” He let out a slow breath.

”I know…If I can remember anything about you from back then, it’s that HYDRA had a vendetta against you. That’s why when you escaped they sent me after you.” You nodded.

”Because I broke their precious programming.”

”Mmm, and it pissed them off.” He smirked, “They don’t like loose ends.” You laughed a bit.

”No, they don’t. I’m shocked they never found out that I lived through your attack.” You said, digging your nails into your palm.

“When I found out from Steve that you were still alive I thought he was joking, I had never failed a mission. I kept saying that to him too, and he kept telling me you were in the hospital. Still kicking. Recovering from what I did. He never went into detail about what I had done, probably to not add to the psychological torment.” You smirked.

”Yeah when he told me that he told you I was still alive I almost punched a hole through him.” Bucky let out a small laugh.

”Sounds about right…” He paused, still running his fingers over his top, “Can I be honest about something though?”

“Of course.” He sighed, sitting up so he was face to face with you.

”When he told me you were alive I was really relieved.” You studied him for a moment, seeing him push his hair out of his face, “And when he would come see me…I would ask how you were.” You leaned up on your arm, surprised by this admission, taken completely off guard by what he was saying, “He would tell me all the little updates, but he also told me to not show my face or else you would probably kill me.” You raised your eyebrows at him, remembering the times where Steve would casually ask the nurses if there was anything new going on with me, realizing that it wasn’t for him, it was for Bucky.

”Well he wasn’t wrong there…Even in the briefing room yesterday I was contemplating killing you.” You commented.

”Yeah, I could see it in your eyes when you saw me. I knew you weren’t going to be happy to see me, but my goodness I didn’t think you were going to go in so hard on me.” You scratched the back of your neck.

”Can’t really blame me there…I’m sorry for those things I said though, I got really nasty, and I hit below the belt, and Maria was right...I pushed your buttons.” He shook his head.

”It’s okay, I deserved it, and for what it’s worth…I’m also sorry for getting in your face during that whole thing. Should’ve just let you take your anger out on me, just like everyone used to.” For a long moment the two of you just stayed still, facing each other. The room felt like it had shrunk around you, but it wasn’t suffocating at all. Bucky’s eyes flickered over your face, trying to figure out what you were thinking, but he couldn’t find anything. The weight of everything that had just been spoken about beared down on the both of you, but it had softened some of the resentment you were still holding onto. He watched as you sat up, pushing the duvet off you, and before he could ask what you were doing, you wrapped your arms around him, bringing him in for a hug.

Immediately he stiffened, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. You felt so warm against him, that it took a moment to register what was happening, but when he finally pulled himself out of his racing thoughts, he released a quiet shudder, and wrapped his arms around you as well. You weren’t sure why you had done it. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was the weight of everything between you two, pressing in from all sides. But as you held him, you could feel the tension in his body, the way his breathing had become uneven, shallow.

And then, you felt it.

A single shuddered breath against your shoulder. The quietest sniff—so small, so restrained, as if he was fighting against it with everything he had, and then a few warm droplets hitting the fabric of your shirt. Tears. You could feel his arms tighten around you ever so slightly, digging his face into your shoulder like he was shielding himself, or so you couldn’t move back to see him. You breathed in, catching the sweet minty scent of his clothes for a brief moment, as you ran a hand down his back to soothe him. He trembled against you, another sob escaping his throat, muffled by your shoulder.

“I-“ He tried to speak, but his voice was cut off by him breathing in.

”Shh…You don’t have to say anything Bucky…It’s okay.” You whispered, and for the rest of the time you sat there holding him, he didn’t say anything. He just held onto you as tightly as possible.

————

“Bucky. I need you to come in here and zip me up. I’m not flexible.” You yelled, looking at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the tight silk fabric of the dress, pulling it down as far as it could go. You could hear the sound of Bucky’s heavy steps approaching the washroom, before he pushed open the door, buttoning up the sleeves of his black dress shirt that fit snugly against his broad frame. You were surprised at how well he cleaned up, and how good he looked in just a black dress shirt and a pair of dark grey dress pants. It was so simple, yet so…Sophisticated. He glanced up from what he was doing, his eyebrows raising a little bit, a smirk appearing on his lips. You squinted at him.

”What’s that face all about? Hmm? Do you want to wear the dress?” Bucky laughed, shaking his head, stepping closer to you.

“I don’t think I’d fit into it, but I’d love to see you try to get me into one…Now turn around.” You rolled your eyes at his comment, but did as he said, turning your back to him and adjusting your hair so it wouldn’t possibly get in his way. He stepped towards you, his fingers finding the zipper, picking up where you left off. You could feel the fabric getting tighter against your body as he brought the zipper higher up your back, his vibranium hand absentmindedly settling on your waist to hold you still. He sighed, letting you go once he had fully zipped the dress up, catching the way his eyes roamed over your reflection, his teeth briefly biting his bottom lip.

”All set.” He announced, watching as you adjusted the fabric again, seeing his eyes flicking to the scar in the middle of your chest that was poking out from just above the neckline of the dress, his eyes softening.

“Something on your mind, Barnes?” You asked, gaining his attention, drawing him out of his trance.

”No…Just looking.” You raised an eyebrow at him, reaching for the thin gold chain you had placed on the countertop.

”And what exactly are you looking at?” Your tone was playful, trying to settle into the mood you would have to be in the whole night. Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, watching as you fastened the delicate chain around your neck, letting it settle gently on your skin.

”What do you think I’m looking at?” He responded, now leaning himself against the countertop, looking at the way you continued to adjust yourself.

“If I’m not mistaken…It seems like you’re enjoying the view.”You said, reaching for your earrings, tilting your head to glance over at him.

“You’re definitely not mistaken.” His voice was smooth, with an undeniable teasing tone lacing his words. You let out a small huff, fighting the heat that began to creep up onto your cheeks, as you clasped one of your earrings into place.

”You know Bucky, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are flirting with me.” He smirked, turning fully towards you, as his vibranium fingers tapped along the sink.

”And if I am?” He asked, his eyebrows raising, your gaze meeting his through the reflection, as you fastened the second earring.

”Then I’d say you’re laying it on pretty thick.” He laughed a bit, moving closer to you, your body turning to face him now. He looked down at you.

”You wound me, doll,” He murmured, feigning hurt, “Here I am, just trying to be a convincing partner for the night, and you’re saying I’m laying it on too thick.” You scoffed.

”Oh please.” Bucky’s eyes continue to roam over your face, looking at the way your skin glowed under the harsh lighting of the bathroom, the way your lashes framed your eyes when you looked up at him, the way you studied every expression that came up on his face. There was a beat of silence.

“All jokes aside though…You look great.” His compliment caught you off guard for a split second, as you cleared your throat.

”Well. You clean up pretty well yourself.” He hummed, looking at himself in the mirror.

”You really think so?” You gave him a once-over, using it as an excuse to really take in how form fitting the outfit was, tilting your head slightly, pretending to contemplate.

”Mmm, yeah, you look presentable enough.” Bucky let out a dramatic scoff.

”Presentable enough? That’s all I get huh?” His eyes narrowing with playful offense, drawing out a small beat of laughter from you. You reached for your cherry chapstick, not wanting to be too bold for the night, taking off the cap.

”Now, now, don’t be so dramatic, I’m sure there will still be plenty of eyes on you tonight regardless of what I say.” You said, swiping the sheer red colour over your bottom lip, then the top, repeating a few times.

“Is that so?” Bucky mused, watching you press your lips together, as you capped the tube, tossing it into your small bag.

”Let me see, the hostess, for one, probably all the women in the room, and even the men at this point.” You responded.

“I think you may have left someone out in that long list of yours.” You raised your eyebrows at him, adjusting the dress one more time.

”Oh yeah? And who might that be?” You asked.

”You.” He whispered, leaning in down a bit, getting into your space, his sweet, lavender scented cologne invading your senses. You held your ground though, refusing to crack under how smooth he was with his flirting.

”I didn’t know you wanted my attention so badly.” You replied back, leaning in as well, almost like you were challenging him, getting close enough that you were basically exchanging breaths with one another.

“Can you blame me?” He asked. You could feel your pulse gallop for a split second, as your lips parted, trying to find a witty remark to rebuttal with, only for you to stop short. His gaze flicked between your eyes, then to your lips, his blue irises glistening beneath the lighting. You cleared your throat, breaking the silence.

”That depends…Are you going to be like this all night?” He hummed.

”Are you going to let me? Because I can do this all night sweetheart, won’t even break a sweat.” You could feel the heart crawling up your chest. He was testing you, waiting for you to crack, but you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction.

”That’s a bold claim. You sure you can back it up?” He wet his lips with his tongue, his gaze still locked onto yours.

”You know I can.” The tension between you felt electric, humming in the small space that was still between you, buzzing loudly. Neither of you were willing to step back.

”Is that right?”” You murmured, your voice smooth, testing.

”You want me to prove it?” You arched an eyebrow.

”Are you offering?” His vibranium tapped along the edge of the countertop, whilst his other hand brushed lightly over the fabric at the bottom of your dress, barely touching it as he toyed with the hem.

”Hmm. Yeah, I am.” You could feel his fingers trail up just a fraction higher before you grabbed his wrist. The air in the room shifted, an all encompassed heat raising to your cheeks. He smiled at you, seeing the way you broke eye contact, your eyelashes fluttering involuntarily.

“Too much?” He asked, teasing.

“No…We just have to get going.” You replied. He looked down at you for one more second, gently biting the inside of his lip, before pulling his hand away, lifting his hands in mock surrender.

”Right. Wouldn’t want to be late.” You turned away from him, grabbing your bag from off the counter, the warmth of his touch still lingering against your skin. He watched you closely, hearing the shakiness of your breathing that you tried to cover up by making additional noise, but he knew. He tucked his hands into his pockets, a restraint to hold himself back from touching you again.

“Come on…We got places to be.” You announced, walking past him, keeping your eyes off him.

—————

From the street, the neon-red glow of The Velvet Fang’s sign bathed the alleyway in an eerie, seductive light, casting long shadows against the damp pavement. The sign flickered slightly, a heartbeat of crimson against the darkness of the night, drawing attention like a whisper promising something sinful just beyond its threshold. Bucky’s arm was draped over your waist as the both of you made your way towards the security guard, the scent of rain lingering in the air around you, mixing with the distant aroma of cigar smoke coming from the people that lined the alleyway. There were faint looks of exhaustion printed on their aged faces, and small sweat marks staining their shirts. You were thankful you had dressed lightly, because evidently it seemed like it was going to be overwhelmingly warm in the club.

The security guard stationed by the entrance was tall, and broad shouldered, a mountain of a man, with a shaved head, and dark eyes that roamed over you. You and Bucky stepped towards him, and his hard expression barely shifted, he had a tablet in his hand, which shadowed his face harshly.

”Name?” He asked, only looking at Bucky.

”James Barnes.” He replied, his hand twitching against your waist slightly, almost as if he was giving a warning. The guard looked down at the screen, scrolling up for a moment, before clicking on something. He took a moment, and you could see his eyes scanning over something, glancing up at Bucky, then at you.

“Super soldiers hmm?” He had a hint of interest in his eyes, as he continued to scan over whatever he had been looking at moments ago. Of course they did their research, you could imagine what was on that tablet, all the information. You wouldn’t be surprised if they had been watching you since you stepped foot in Vienna. Bucky didn’t react beyond a tight-lipped smile.

”Is it an issue?” His voice was casual, smooth, and non-threatening. The security guard looked up from the screen, letting out a short, gruff chuckle.

”Not an issue, we get all kinds coming here. All we ask is that you don’t start any problems.” Bucky offered a slow nod, his fingers soothing against the fabric of your dress.

”Wouldn’t dream of it.” The guard studied him for a second longer, before his eyes trailed over to you, dragging over your frame in a way that made your skin crawl. Finally, he stepped aside, motioning towards the metal door, sliding it open.

”Enjoy yourselves.” The moment you stepped inside, the heavy metal door groaned shut behind you, sealing off the outside world. There was a dimly lit hallway leading towards a set of stairs, and the thrum of music vibrated through the floor, a slow seductive beat booming under your legs, almost making them turn to jelly. You could smell the distinct scent of musk in the air; sweat, smoky leather…It was as if it clung to every surface of the enclosed space. Bucky still held your waist, as he guided you towards the staircase. Just before you could step down, he pulled you to the side, into the shadows of a small corridor, leaning in to talk into the shell of your ear so you could hear him over the chest shaking bass that continued to grow in volume. One hand settled on your waist, while the vibranium one was pressed against the wall behind you.

“I need you to listen to me for a minute okay?” You tilted your chin up, nodding at him.

”If we get separated, you don’t come looking for me. You don’t wait around. You leave. Do you understand?” Bucky wasn’t just saying this as a precaution, he was saying it because he knew there was a real possibility of things going wrong, and you could hear the tinge of worry sprinkled in his voice, even though he tried to hold it back. You shook your head.

”That’s ridiculous Bucky. I’m not going to run, are you insane? You can’t ask that of me.” He pulled away from you.

“Why do you always have to argue with me Y/N. Just please for the love of god listen to me.” Your jaw tightened, the weight of his words pressed down on your chest.

”You’re asking me to abandon you, Bucky. Do you not hear yourself?” His fingers on your waist twitched.

”I do hear myself, and I need you to hear me too.” You looked up at him, your eyes glistening in the faint red light of the corridor.

”It’s not an option, Bucky. I’m not doing it.” You crossed your arms over your stomach.

”Do you really think I want to be saying this to you right now?” Your arms stayed locked around yourself, a weak shield against the way his words were sinking into you, as you looked away from him.

“I’m not doing it.” You repeated. Bucky exhaled sharply, his hand leaving your waist for a brief moment, before his calloused touch reached your face, his rough thumbs pressing against your cheekbones, tilting your head to look up at him again. It was gentle, yet firm all at the same time.

“Please.” His voice was stripped of its usual steadiness, “Please Y/N. If something happens, I need to know you’ll be safe. You need to just listen to me. Please.” You could feel his hot breath hitting against your face, the all too familiar scent of him wrapping around you, warming your body. You could feel your chest tighten, your pulse hammering away in your throat, as you reached up and wrapped your hands around his wrists.

”Bucky…” His forehead dipped dangerously close to yours, his breath becoming heavier against your skin.

“Please.” He begged again. His voice cracked, almost like how he sounded last night after he had stopped crying, after he apologized for your tear soaked shirt, after he laid back down and said goodnight. You wanted to scream at him, maybe it would make him understand that you didn’t work this way, but it wasn’t going to work…

”…Fine. I’ll do it…” You could feel his breath come out in a sigh, as he pulled back, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss between your brows. His breath came out shakily against your skin, as his thumbs traced over your cheekbones for a split second, before stopping. The action had caught you off guard, but you couldn’t even think, because by the time you had something to say his lips had left your skin.

”Thank you.” He whispered, pulling back from you, his hands leaving your face, his warmth parting from your body. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a moment to recollect himself, his eyes flicking back to yours. You swallowed thickly.

”We should head in.” You said, breaking the silence. Bucky gave a slow nod, holding out his hand for you, guiding you toward the descending staircase, your eyes adjusting to the blood red walls that surrounded you.

The closer you got to the club area, the heavier the bass thumped through your chest, rattling through every bone in your body like a second heartbeat. The moment you stepped through the final set of doors, it was like you had crossed a threshold into a different world entirely. Now the smell of leather, sweat, and something much more heady settled in the back of your throat. It was dizzying.

The inside of the club was dark, you could barely see anything apart from the shadows that were cast from the strobe lights that were going in chaotic bursts, distorting the movement of the bodies that were tangling themselves into each other on the dance floor, but you could barely see. The music wasn’t just loud now, it was vibrating throughout your entire body, almost to the point where it made you nauseous. Your eyes took a while to adjust to the dimmed lighting, as you felt Bucky tense beside you, his hand tightening around yours. You looked over at him, seeing the way his face had dropped, like he was in shock, caught off guard in some way.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky yelled, but it sounded like a whisper over the deafening bass. Your eyes finally adjusted to the lighting, and now your gaze followed his, connecting the dots as to why he looked so tense.

The dance floor was a writhing mass of limbs, hands touching breasts, settling between thighs, exploring each other, mouths meeting in heated kisses, completely losing themselves in the pools of lust and desire. There were booths that lined the outer perimeter of the dance floor that were hardly private. Some had sheer curtains that barely concealed the occupants inside, while others remained entirely open so that the scenes within them were revealed to the rest of the patrons. A man sat back lazily on a plush seat, his fingers tangled in a woman’s hair as she knelt between his legs, while in another booth there was a trio wrapped up together, moving in intoxicating synchrony.

Bucky leaned in close, his lips hovering just beside your ear.

”I need a fucking drink.” You nodded in agreement, as he pulled you towards the bar on the side of the dance floor. You stayed close to him, your hand tightening around his to make sure the both of you didn’t separate in the chaos of it all.

As you reached the bar, the dim glow of the red light bathed the sleek obsidian bouncer top, reflecting against the rows of expensive liquor that was lined up behind it. The bartender, a tall man with slicked back hair tied into a bun, gave an amused smirk towards the both of you, watching as you sat down on one of the stools.

“What can I get you?” You glanced over at Bucky, motioning for him to order first.

”Whiskey…Neat please.” The bartender nodded, turning to you.

”And for the lady?” You hesitated for a second, as Bucky’s hand rested against your thigh, his thumb tracing along the warm skin.

”I’ll have a tequila pineapple. Thank you.” The bartender leaned in closer to you, a spicy cinnamon scent immediately hitting your nose.

”A single or double shot?” He asked, you glanced over at Bucky, then back towards him.

”Double please.” He smirked, moving back to collect the bottles needed for the drinks, and the glasses as well. The bartender moved with an ease only a professional with years of experience would have, pouring Bucky’s whiskey while he poured out the shots of tequila for your drink, then poured the pineapple juice as well. He slid both drinks towards you, and smiled, going to the other side of the bar to take other orders.

Neither of you spoke as you drank, it was as if you didn’t want to talk about what was going on throughout the club. You kept your eyes locked on the glass, taking generous gulps, letting the burn radiate through your chest. Bucky’s hand remained on your thigh, tracing up your exposed skin, as he surveyed the room, trying his best not to be obvious. You could feel the slight flex of his fingers, before he continued to rub gently, like he was trying to soothe himself, and you at the same time. You finished your drink, placing the glass back on the bar, as Bucky moved towards you, pushing your hair away from your ear.

“I think we need to move, if we keep sitting here it’s gonna draw attention.” Your skin prickled under the heat of his breath, and for a split second, you thought you felt his lips.

”Yeah. Okay.” You replied, as he pulled back, his fingers leaving your thigh, offering you help off your stool. He held your hand as he guided you away from the bar.

The moment Bucky pulled you onto the dance floor it was like you were swallowed up by the bodies, but the people around you ceased to exist. His hands found your waist first, as he kept you close to him, making sure you were practically flush against him. His chest pressed against yours, while you found your rhythm, attempting to match the beat, the friction between your bodies growing with every movement you made, while your hands ran over his dress shirt. His warmth seeped into your skin, and you could feel his hot, uneven breath fanning across your collarbone. You felt his hand slide lower, resting on your hip, his fingers curling into the silk, holding onto it for dear life, as his vibranium hand traced up the length of your back, the cool temperature contrasting against the heat of your body. You looked up at him, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth, seeing the starvation behind his gaze, the kind that pinned you in place, made your pulse pound against your throat like a drum. He shook his head at you, leaning to the side.

”You have no fucking idea what you’re doing to me.” He said against your ear, your stomach coiling, burning hot from the words he spoke. His lips ghosted over your jaw, not quite touching, just hovering, trying to tease you into making the first move. His breathing grew heavier the closer he got to your throat, when finally, he gave you a gentle kiss, as if he was seeing whether or not you were going to stop him. You tipped your head back, exposing more skin to him, silently giving him the invitation he needed to continue. His mouth opened against your skin, his teeth dragging over your pulse point, eliciting a gasp from you, his tongue flicking out to taste the saltiness of your sweat.

“Fuck…” He rasped against your throat, bringing his vibranium hand down to press against the small of your back, to bring you even closer to him. You could feel every muscle in his body coiling so tight that he was practically shaking against you trying to keep his composure. His lips trailed up, going past your jaw, and ghosting over the corner of your mouth. Teasing. Testing. Waiting for you to make the first move and break, but you couldn’t…Not yet.

His lips hovered over yours, he was so close that every breath you took became his, the both of you panting. His nose brushed against yours, his lips parting to let out a shaky breath. Through the strobe lights you could see his pupils were blown wide, the adrenaline of the anticipation eating away at him minute by minute.

You let the moment stretch, as your hands slid up his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingers, before curling them into the hair at the nape of his neck, your nails dragging lightly against his scalp, earning a small shudder from him. Finally, you brought him down towards you, crashing your lips against his.

The second your mouths met, it was like a dam broke, flooding the both of you with such desperation it almost choked you. Bucky inhaled sharply through his nose, as his hands reached up to cradle your face, anchoring himself to you. His lips were searing, moving against yours like he had been starving for this. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, sucking it gently, willing your mouth to open for him, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. You pulled on his hair, feeling one of his hands leaving your face to rest on your waist, as he pressed his hips forward into yours, a silent plea, and a wordless confession of how badly he wanted you. His lips broke away from yours, only to trail kisses down your jaw, his stubble scraping against your skin, creating a contrast to the softness of his lips as he bit, kissed, and licked a path down your throat.

“Bucky…” His name left your lips in a breathy moan, causing him to sink his teeth slightly into your skin, before sucking gently on it, hard enough that there would be evidence of his mark for the next few days. You pulled on his hair again, feeling his lips drag back up to reclaim yours in a kiss so deep that your chest was burning from the lack of air. His vibranium fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress, skinning the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He was seconds away from dragging you out from the dance floor, seconds away from losing control entirely….

And then you felt a new pair of hands on you, causing the both of you to pull away from one another in a frightened haste.

“Well, well,” A voice purred above the pulsing bass, “Please don’t stop on my account.” Timothy Orkolov said, a smile draped over his lips. His gaze flicked between the two of you, taking in your swollen lips, the way Bucky’s hands had now moved to be more in front of you, so you would be behind him. He chuckled at the sight, swirling his drink around in his glass.

“I must admit, I’ve always wanted to see if it was true that HYDRA soldiers could go all night in the bedroom.” He teased, watching Bucky’s fingers twitching against your waist.

”Careful,” He warned sharply. Orkolov held his hand up.

”Oh come on James. You and your lovely partner here come waltzing into my club, put on a little show, and then you expect me not to comment about it? Forgive me for being curious.” His gaze dragged over you, appraising, assessing, his eyes lingering briefly on the scar between your chest, his lips curling into a smirk, “It’s rare to see two super soldiers together in one room, let alone seeing them in love like this…It’s almost poetic.” Bucky exhaled through his nose.

”Do you have a point to make or are you here to run your mouth?” Orkolov took a lazy sip from his glass, before tilting his chin towards the velvet-curtained VIP section at the back of the club.

”Why don’t we have a chat in private? Clearly you two came for something, I’d hate to keep the anticipation building.” Bucky looked over at you, his eyes still glazed over from your heated interaction, giving a nod.

”Fine. Lead the way.” Orkolov gave a small toothy smile, as he motioned for you to follow him.

The VIP section was draped in velvet red walls, the seating areas had harsh lights above you, where you’d be able to see someone perfectly, but it made your eyes sting from the transition from the dark chasm of the club to this. Orkolov took the both of you to a more secluded area, attempting to find the most private area so you would all be able to hear each other. He gestured for the both of you to go inside first. The room was average, it had a bar, a table, some velvet seats that matched the aesthetic of the rest of the club, and of course it was accented with gold trim wherever it could be. Orkolov roamed over to the bar, humming softly, like he was just having a pleasant meeting between old friends.

”Whiskey? Vodka? Anything to drink for either of you?” He asked, motioning to the bottles of alcohol behind him. Neither of you answered, “Well, suit yourselves.” He added, refilling his glass with whiskey, taking a long sip before motioning to the seats.

”Please. Let’s sit.” You and Bucky hesitated, looking at each other, trying to see what the play was going to be, but you never went through the possibility of having a private meeting with Orkolov. So you took a seat first, watching as Bucky joined you, his body on high alert, sturdy and stiff beside you. Orkolov’s eyes swept over you, his gaze dragging down your body, drinking up the image in front of him, until they settled on the scar that disappeared beneath your neckline. He swirled his drink around in his glass, placing it down onto the table.

”You know,” He mused, “I’ve read so much about the experiments HYDRA did. The enhancements. The conditioning. But you…” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table, “You’re a mystery to me.” You kept eye contact with him, not breaking, not looking away.

“It’s such a shame they never completed you…” Your pulse pounded in your ears, but you still refused to give him the reaction, “Because that would’ve never happened to you.” He pointed at the scar. You didn’t flinch, and you could see the joy in his face, as he wet his lips, turning his attention to Bucky.

”Tell me James…When you look at her do you see a failed mission? Or the woman you supposedly love? You ever get that itch in the back of your head when you’re laying in bed together at night to finish the job?” Bucky’s hands twitched against his thighs, his jaw locking so tightly that it looked like it was going to shatter. Orkolov sat back.

”I mean…It must be torture, having her so close all the time. Being reminded everyday that you failed your duties to HYDRA.” Bucky’s breath came out slow and measured, but you could feel the rage radiating off of him. You wanted to put your hand on his thigh, but you knew better than to do that at the moment, as he brought his attention to you.

”It must eat away at you sometimes hmm? That no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you may trust him, there will always be that part of him that was given the order to kill you…And that it lives inside him.” You swallowed.

”He wouldn’t do that.” You replied, trying to convince yourself that it was the truth. You wanted to believe it, but there was still the hesitation inside your chest. Orkolov exhaled, a sharp laugh escaping his lips.

”Let me give it to you straight…You can love a blade, you can hold it close, and call it yours, but at the end of the day…It’s always going to be forged to cut. Just like James over here, will always be The Winter Soldier. Plain, and simple.” He smirked, looking over at Bucky, seeing the way his eyes had darkened, “And what will you do…When he finally does what he was commanded to do? When that blade you’re sure of is yours turns in your hand and carves you up all over again?” The words barely had time to settle before your body reached.

Your fist cracked against Orkolov’s jaw, snapping his head to the side with a sickening force, knocking him out of his seat. Bucky didn’t flinch, he didn’t even move a muscle, no protests, no getting up to hold you back, he was blank, almost completely void of anything. The room rang with the sound of a tooth skidding across the floor, and him landing hard against the ground with a thud. For a second there was only silence, you couldn’t feel your hands, it was like you went numb, but you didn’t care. You stood up from your seat, going over to Orkolov who groaned loudly, turning himself over, pressing his hand against his bloodied mouth, a gap showing from where you had knocked his tooth out. He looked up at you, with satisfaction in his eyes, as he coughed, letting the little blood droplets huff out into the air.

“I knew you had it in you.” He sputtered out. You crouched down, wrapping your hand around his neck, pulling him up so he was eye to eye with you.

”If you keep talking I’m going to snap your fucking neck. You may think they never completed me, but I still have the same serum running through my veins, and it burns for the kill. Especially when people run their mouths.” He choked as your hand tightened around his throat, “Now. We came here for information, so keep your end of the bargain, or else I’ll knock the rest of your fucking teeth out of your face.” He wheezed loudly, coughing up blood, the droplets hitting your face, as he moved his head up and down. Your grip on his neck loosened, allowing him to take a breath.

”There’s…A shipment coming in, “ He started, turning his head to spit out some blood that flooded his mouth from where you had knocked out his tooth, “High level assets…The remaining soldiers from HYDRA.” Your hand tightened around his throat again.

”Don’t fucking lie to me.” You spat, feeling him squirm, his hand coming up to hold your wrist, his blood smearing on your skin.

”I’m…I’m not. There’s still…They still exist.” He squeaked out, “Just like you guys.”

”When is it arriving?” He coughed again, more blood splattering on you.

”T-Tomorrow, m-midnight. At the ports on the o-outskirts of the city.” Your grip loosed on his neck, feeling his fingers trembling against your wrists as he struggled to swallow. His jaw was starting to swell up and you could see a faint bruise beginning to form on the side where you had punched, but in his eyes, it still held amusement, that unsettling satisfaction that he had made you crack. It frightened you that you had let the rage come through you again, something that you had tried so hard to control. The serum had given you this innate bloodlust, and you had pushed it down for so long you thought it was gone, then this happened and it felt like you were back to square one. You forced yourself to breathe deeply, as you threw Orkolov back down onto the floor, releasing his neck and knocking the wind out of him in the process.

You turned your head towards Bucky, but he still hadn’t moved, it was like he wasn’t even breathing, his eyes staring off in the distance. You took a step towards him.

”Bucky?” Orkolov let out a hoarse chuckle.

”Look at him…Poor little James, trapped in that head of his. I must’ve gotten to him just like I got to you.” He commented. With your pulse still hammering in your ears, all you could feel was wrong, absolutely sick to your stomach, and you ignored what he had said. Not wanting to get sucked back into the violence that was wanting to come out again. You took another step towards Bucky, crouching down in front of him.

“Bucky…Hey.” Your voice was soft, trying to get his attention, his eyes glazed over, unfocused and locked elsewhere. He still hadn’t moved, nor breathed properly, and it was beginning to worry you. You reached out, your fingers grazing his knee.

”Bucky.” You tried again, making your voice firmer, hoping you could break through whatever fog he was trapped in. Slowly you moved just a bit closer, lifting your hand up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his stubble. His skin was burning hot, but there was no reaction to your cold hands pressing against him, no flicker of recognition in those ice blue eyes. This wasn’t shock or anger that was fueling him to be this way, it was as if he had completely shut down, turned himself off for the world like it was to save himself from doing something stupid.

“Come on…” You whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Orkolov groaned.

”You think you’re gonna miraculously pull him out of this? It’s not up to him anymore.” You glanced over your shoulder at him, watching as he attempted to sit up.

”If you move a single muscle, or say another word…I’m gonna break every bone in your body. Do you understand?” You growled, turning your attention back to Bucky, sliding your fingers down to hold his wrists.

”You’re okay…You’re safe Bucky…I’m safe. You’re in control, Bucky. I know you are.” You could feel your throat tightening, seeing the absence behind his eyes. Your hands squeezed his wrists gently, forcing your presence into him, into whatever place he went to so that he could avoid the pain.

“I need you to hear me,” You whispered, desperation bleeding through your voice now, “You’re not there anymore, you’re not him…You’re Bucky Barnes, now come back to me for the love of god!” Finally, Bucky flinched. It was barely a movement at all, but you felt it against your hands, the slight twitch of his fingers on your skin.

“Come on…” You coxed, tightening your hands on his wrists a little bit more. Your heart was pounding, watching the way his expression slowly shifted, like he was trying to break through, then suddenly you heard it.

”…Y/N?” Your breath caught for a moment, your hands immediately meeting his face against, trembling against his overheated skin.

”Yes, yes it’s me. You’re okay.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, watching as his eyes began to dart around the room, taking in the environment around him, before settling on you again, seeing your skin splattered with blood.

”Jesus Christ what the hell happened?!” His hands came up to hold onto your wrists, pulling them away from him, seeing one of your hands stained with blood as well, “Are you hurt?!”

“It’s not mine, I’m okay Bucky.” His eyes snapped over toward Orkolov, who was crumpled on the floor, smirking through the pain.

”Missed quite the show…She’s got a hell of a right hook. Guess HYDRA really did do something right with her.” He commented, spitting out more blood. He looked back at you, surprised.

”I got what we needed. We have to get out of here though. I will tell you everything when we get someplace safe, okay?” He nodded, slowly getting up from his seat.

”Running away already? And here I was thinking we would have more time together.” Orkolov said, trying to push himself up onto his hands. Bucky stepped past you, moving towards him slowly, before standing above him.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll meet again, and next time, I don’t think you’re going to be getting out alive.”

——————-

When you arrived back at the hotel you didn’t know whether or not you wanted to shower first or call Maria to convey all the information to her. At this point you felt like every bone in your body was on fire, edging with this adrenaline you hadn’t experienced since HYDRA gave you the serum. It was almost mind numbing at this point, and you couldn’t imagine if this was what Bucky would experience when he was The Winter Soldier.

You took your phone out of your purse, dialing the only number that was in it. Hill picked up after the second ring.

”Tell me you have something.” You reached up to rub your face, feeling the crusted blood peeling off.

”There’s a shipment coming in tomorrow at midnight at the ports in the outskirts of the city. Orkolov said there are going to be HYDRA soldiers in it. The remaining ones…” There was a pause.

“Are you sure?” She asked, as you kicked off your shoes, glancing over at Backy who was standing at the kitchen counter, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

“I’m positive. He was too scared to lie.” You commented, moving towards the bedroom, feeling Bucky’s eyes following, as you closed the door.

”That’s good. I’ll have a team en route to you guys by tomorrow evening.” Your grip tightened on the phone.

”Maria…I don’t think it’s a good idea that Bucky and I continue this mission. I don’t think it’s good if we come to the port for the shipment…Tonight wasn’t good for either of us, and with HYDRA being involved…I really don’t think we are in the right state to be there.” There was a long pause as you looked at your hand, seeing the dark crimson blood caked on it.

“You’re asking to pull out?” Her voice was even, but there was a hint of sharpness, maybe even disappointment in it. You pressed your fingers to your temple.

”We’re both compromised Maria…I almost killed Orkolov tonight…And Bucky basically dissociated because he got into his head. We can’t be there Maria…Please don’t send us there.” You begged, your voice cracking at the thought that you were both going to be faced with your past. Maria exhaled slowly.

”Okay…I’ll get you both out, but there is going to be a delay. Probably a day or two. Can you handle that?” You nodded.

”Yes, we can handle that, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Maria was quiet for a second.

”Just get some rest, and I’ll send you the information when everything is confirmed. Stay put and stay off the radar.”

“Understood.” Then she hung up without another word, leaving you in the silence of the bedroom. You dropped your phone onto the bed, before opening the door, seeing that Bucky was still at the counter, nursing his drink.

”Maria is going to pull us out.” You announced softly, coming out of the room. He looked over at you, his jaw tightening slightly.

”When?” You moved towards him.

”She said about a day or two, she’s going to text the information when she gets confirmation.” Bucky nodded, as he brought the glass of whiskey up to his lips, knocking back the rest of the drink in one go, putting it back down onto the counter.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, watching you closely, focusing on the little splatters of blood on your skin.

“Like I’m on fire…I haven’t had this much adrenaline going through me in a while.” You commented, moving closer to him, “How are you feeling?” He shook his head.

”Like my brain is swollen…I feel absolutely exhausted, all I want to do is shower, and try to sleep at this point.” You watched the tension in Bucky’s shoulders settle slightly, the adrenaline crash becoming inevitable.

“You can go first if you’d like. I can wait.” Bucky shook his head, a small laugh coming out of him.

”You should definitely go first…You’re the one that has the blood on you.” He pointed out, motioning to your face and body. In the light you saw the smudges on your arms from where Orkolov held, the remnants of the night clinging to you like a second skin.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You admitted, rubbing at your arms, as you turned on your heel, moving towards the bathroom, pausing for a moment just before you walked down the corridor, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you still. You glanced back at him.

“How about you come with me,” You murmured before you could think twice about it. His eyebrows raised, caught off guard by your offer, not sure if he was hearing you right.

”What did you just say?” He asked, his throat tightening on his words.

”Come with me,” You repeated, softer this time, tilting your head, “Unless you’d rather sit out here alone.” Bucky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, but the heat in his eyes told you he didn’t need any convincing. Wordlessly, he pushed himself off the counter and followed you down the corridor.

You turned on the bathroom light, motioning for Bucky to come in before closing the door behind you, turning to look at him. He stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets, looking down at you, letting his gaze run over the mess that you had become throughout the night. He sighed, bringing one hand up to rub his forehead.

”Should I turn on the hot water?” He asked, trying to break the silence up a little bit. You nodded, watching him slide open the glass door, and reach for the faucet, turning it counterclockwise. The sound of rushing water filled the space, steam already beginning to slowly rise, making the air in the room just a little bit heavier. He turned himself back towards you, glancing down at your dress briefly, as he brought his hands up to start working on the buttons of his dress shirt, the fabric parting inch by inch.

He was massive. Even after everything, even knowing the strength that came with the bulk of him, it still sent a shiver through you to really see him like this. The thick swell of his shoulders and arms, the defined cut of muscle beneath his skin, every inch of him carved from war and survival. His chest was wide, a few old scars slashing through the ridges of muscle, his vibranium arm gleaming under the bathroom light. His abs flexed with each breath, tight, strong, leading down to the deep v-cut at his hips. He pushed off the shirt completely, throwing it to the side, as he looked at you with anticipation burning behind his gleaming eyes. Slowly, you reached behind you, your fingers finding the zipper of your dress, bringing it down with an agonizing pace, feeling the fabric loosening around you. The dress slipped from your shoulders, pooling at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You saw his fingers twitch at his side, as his gaze dragged over your body, trying to commit it all to memory. Your arms wrapped around your stomach, not out of embarrassment but from the weight of the way he was drinking in your body, the curvature of your breasts, the faint little scars that contrasted lightly against your skin, the way that your figure was just perfectly yours…It made his heart clench slightly, and suddenly he started to feel like he was overdressed.

His hands went to his belt buckle first, gently unlatching it, keeping his eyes on you as he did it. He slid the leather from the loops, dropping it to the tile with a clink. His fingers quickly returned to his pants to unbutton them, pushing the fabric off his hips and stepping out of it, leaving him in just his briefs. The both of you continued to look at each other, as you slowly closed the space, letting your nerves stir in your stomach.

You reached out, grazing the hard ridges of his stomach, barely touching, just lightly tracing the dense muscle there. You could feel him tense beneath your touch, his hand coming up to slide around your waist, bringing you just a little bit closer to him, the steam thickening around the room.

“…You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, bringing his vibranium hand up to trace down the jagged scar in the center of your chest, the coolness causing your skin to perk up against him, his touch didn’t linger there for long, as it moved off to your ribs, then up to the underside of your breast, cupping it gently, his thumb lightly brushing over your nipple, a soft gasp escaping your throat. A smirk tugged up onto his lips, leaning down so that his mouth was just above the mound of your breast, his hot breath clinging to your skin, savoring the moment before he finally took your nipple into his mouth. You gasped louder this time, your fingers pressing into the muscle of his torso, as his tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer to him, sucking gently, pulling his mouth off to blow against the wetness he had created.

”Jesus Bucky…” You moaned, as his mouth went to the opposite breast, wrapping around the perked nipple, nibbling slightly to elicit another gasp from you. Your fingers trailed down his abdomen, slipping under the waistband of his briefs for a moment, teasing him just like he was teasing you, as a groan radiated against your chest, and his fingers dug into your back. He took his mouth off your breast, trembling slightly, your hands trailing further beneath the waistband, his eyes looking up at you, seeing his pupils completely blown out from the tension, as you felt his erection against your palm. His lashes fluttered shut, and his cheeks turned a cherry red, tilting his head back as your hand wrapped around him, spreading his precum along his shaft as you began to slowly stroke.

“Oh fuck Y/N…” He gasped, bringing his hand to your chin, tilting your head up so he could crash his lips into yours. There was such a desperate intensity in the kiss, as he stole the air from your lungs, his tongue immediately tracing your bottom lip, begging for you to open for him, his hips rolling into your touch. You opened for him, feeling the hotness of his tongue against yours, as his hand slid off from your back, and slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, earning a moan from you, your legs parting slightly for him. You were already wet for him, as his fingers trailed over the slick arousal, teasing your dripping entrance before pushing two fingers in with ease. You almost screamed at the sensation that rocked through you, as his thick fingers stretched you out. He pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his vibranium hand coming up to cup your face, as you started to stroke him faster, with him trying to catch up to your pace, his fingers curling inside you. You closed your eyes tightly, your mouth dropping open as you moaned.

“That’s it…” Bucky murmured, breathless, trying his best to remain dominant, his lips grazing your jaw, “Let me hear you.” He whispered, biting the skin just below your ear. You could feel your pace falter, getting distracted by your own pleasure, feeling this tension beginning to build in your stomach, coiling around every inch of your body, your hand tightening around him. He gasped, biting into the sensitive flesh of your neck, sucking gently on the mark to soothe the sting.

”If you keep doing that I’m not going to last.” He whispered, shuddering against you.

“Then we should…” You paused, feeling your legs shake beneath you from the pleasure that wrecked through your entire body, “We should move to the shower then.” You suggested, looking up at him, your eyes glazed over, just as lust filled as his. He nodded, slowly taking his fingers out of you, pushing your underwear down, with you doing the same to him. The undergarments pooled at both your feet as he wrapped an arm around your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, a surprised gasp leaving your lips, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he brought you to the shower.

The first thing you felt was the boiling water hitting your back, spreading down your skin as he pressed you slowly against the warm porcelain wall, reaching with one hand to close the shower door, the other one anchoring you against him.

His lips trailed down the column of your throat, peppering kisses along your collarbone. He was unrushed with his movements, savoring every inch he got to explore, as his hand caressed the curve of your hip. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with praise, almost like you were his religion, or the most sacred thing he had ever touched. His breath mixed with yours as he captured your mouth in another heated kiss, the both of you moaning in unison, your hands tangling into his damp hair. The taste of him made your head spin. The both of you felt as if you were drowning in each other, but neither of you came up for air, his hand coming up to hold the side of your face. He was the first to pull back, his lips brushing yours one more time before his thumb traced along your swollen bottom lip, as the steam curled around the both of you.

“Open,” He said softly. There was no dominance in his voice, it was just a quiet request, something that was optional, but you obeyed anyways, parting your lips for him. He held your jaw gently, as if afraid you’d pull away, but when you didn’t, he let the moment stretch, suspended in tension, in anticipation, before he let a delicate stream of saliva fall from his lips, into your mouth. The act felt like something sacred, something intimate, as his thumb brushed against your chin, his gaze never leaving yours, watching you swallow. The corner of his mouth quirked up, just barely, before he dipped his head, capturing your lips in another deep, slow kiss. His tongue traced your bottom lip, as if savoring the taste of you before he pulled back, his breath warm against your mouth.

“I need to taste you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his grip tightening around your thigh, guiding your leg off the side of his waist, helping you regain your balance. His eyes held yours for just a moment, a silent exchange of desire and want, before he leaned forward, kissing along your collarbone, licking the droplets that slid down your body, sucking gently on the skin right at the bottom of your neck. His hands settled on your hips, pressing his fingers into your damp skin, as he continued his journey, exploring every inch of skin he could reach, and you were at his mercy, not that you minded of course. When he got on his knees in front of you it nearly made you choke, his lips kissing along your hip bone, his hand sliding behind your thigh, squeezing it gently, coaxing you to open for him.

”You’re already shaking…” He commented, his lips finding their way to your inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin, wanting to mark you wherever he could so when he woke up in the morning he would know that this wasn’t just a dream. Your fingers threaded into his soaked hair, tugging just enough to cause shivers to rush down his body, silently pleading for him. His darkened eyes flickered up at you, his pupils completely blown out, not a speck of blue in sight, as he brought his lips up to your aching heat, placing a gentle kiss, before his tongue dragged along the entire area, your arousal coating his lips.

Your gasped echoed through the shower, feeling him press you against the wall so that you were secure with no possibility of falling, his mouth now completely consuming you whole. His tongue moved with such precision, tracing slow, sinful strokes along you, making sure he was paying attention to every spot that could earn him another moan, or hair pull from you. He groaned against you, his fingers digging into the backs of your thighs.

”Fuck…Y/N. You’re so goddamn perfect. So warm…So fucking sweet.” He whispered, his tongue dragging through your slickness again, “You’re wrecking me…” The vibration of his voice against you made you press your nails into his scalp, shuddering above him.

”Bucky…” You whimpered, pressing him closer, feeling the wet heat of his mouth driving you closer and closer to the breaking point, your hips rolling against his mouth, feeling the heat in your stomach beginning to boil.

“You taste so fucking good…I want to stay here forever.” You moaned at his words, heat flaring through your body, the sound of his desperation causing your heart to flutter, his tongue flicking against your clit.

“You like hearing how much I need you?” Your head fell back against the tile, pulling on his hair again.

”Yes.” You gasped, the pressure inside you mounting in a quickening excess “God, Bucky I love it.” He growled, sending another rush of pleasure through your body, his fingers digging into the backs of your thighs.

”You’re so wet for me…” He murmured, his breath hot against your core, “And I’m going to have every single drop.” One hand slipped from behind your thigh, reaching up to hold your breast, palming it gently, as he slipped his tongue inside you, moving it slowly. You felt like you were on the brink of collapse, all the sensations invading your entire body. He groaned, feeling you push against his mouth, his grip on your breast tightening just a little bit, as his thumb ran over your nipple. You unraveled one of your hands from his hair, bringing it up to hold the back of his.

“Bucky I’m…” You couldn’t manage to get your sentence out as you trembled against him, your breath hitching in your throat.

”I know…You going to come for me sweetheart?” He asked, his mouth now focusing directly on your clit, finding a pace that was so fast you could barely compose yourself before the pressure snapped inside you, your grip on his hand tightening, your nails digging into the skin as you cried out, the overstimulation ceasing your heart. Bucky wasn’t lying when he said he was going to have every single drop, his mouth moved against you like he was starved for it. Your body was trembling beneath him, as he pulled away slowly, looking up at you; his eyes wild…Worshipful even. You collapsed against the wall gasping for air, your eyes roaming over his face. His lips were swollen, covered in your arousal, his hair a mess from where you had pulled on it. He smiled at you, letting out a giddy laugh as he kissed the inside of your thigh, before bringing his forehead to your stomach, his hot breath cooling the droplets against your skin.

”Jesus Christ…” He muttered, half in disbelief, half in complete adoration, as he pressed kisses against every inch of skin he could reach, “You’re still shaking.” He commented, looking up again.

“You absolutely wrecked me.” You replied, your hands reaching down to cup his face, your thumbs running along his cheekbones as he leaned into your touch.

“Mission accomplished.” He joked, feeling your hands guiding him up so he could stand again. He raised from his kneeled position, his hands roaming your body, as he pulled you against him, so you could feel how hard he was for you.

“Bucky…I really need you right now.” You confessed, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. He pulled back for a moment.

”Are you sure?” You nodded instantly, feeling his hands behind your thighs grip, and then effortlessly lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the tiled wall. His arms cradled your body like you were the most precious thing he had ever touched, and that wasn’t far off from the truth.

“I need to hear you say-.” You grabbed his face, forcing him to look in your eyes completely.

”I need you Bucky…Please.” That was all he needed to hear, as his hand left the small of your back, lining himself up with your entrance, your gaze falling on his reaction as he slowly pushed himself into you, his jaw slacking open at the warmth, his eyelids fluttering closed. He leaned forward, placing a kiss against your neck, continuing to push, the both of you savoring the sensation of going slow, taking in the feeling of being stretched.

“H-Holy fuck…” He let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head, “It’s like heaven.” He whispers, looking up at you with his pupils blown out, amazed by the sensation of you fluttering around him, his fingertips digging into your hip as he continued to push forward until he bottomed out in you, a satisfied sigh escaping into the air.

”You feel so good…I just wanna stay inside you like this.” His words sent a shiver up your spine, your nails lightly scraping against the broad muscles of his shoulders. His body was a furnace against yours, and the hot water that cascaded above the both of you made everything feel like it was on fire. His vibranium hand moved up your side, his thumb brushing over your ribcage, then moving up to cup your breast. His lips found their way to the curve of your jaw, brushing over your skin, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses wherever he could. He slowly pulled out just a little before rocking back into you, slowly picking up the pace, keeping his eyes locked onto yours, trying his best to keep the unhurried rhythm he had found. With every thrust it was like he pushed deeper, making sure you could feel every inch of him, your nails digging into his back, dragging down.

“Bucky, you feel so fucking good. “ You moaned, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his as he continued to roll his hips up into you, adjusting the angle a bit so that his cock was dragging across your g-spot, a mangled gasp coming out of your throat at the mind-numbing sensation that shot through you. Bucky felt everything, the way your body clenched around him, the heat of your ragged breath against his lips, the way your nails dug into his shoulders just a little more, and the way you closed your eyes tightly trying to focus on not getting overwhelmed with how he was making you feel.

“You like when I fuck you like this?” He asked, rutting back up into you with just a little more force than before.

”Yes!” You practically yelled, as one of your hands came off his shoulder and tangled it into his hair, “Don’t stop Bucky, please don’t fucking stop.” You begged, desperate for the snapping of his hips against yours to continue. He placed a soft kiss on your lips, pulling back.

”I wouldn’t think of it sweetheart.” He said, a dazed smile appearing on his puffy lips, glancing down at the way he was sliding in and out of you so perfectly, before returning his gaze back up to yours, “You’re so wet for me Y/N, I can’t believe how fucking good it feels…I think I’m gonna want you like this everyday now.” There was such need and longing in his voice that you felt yourself melting against him.

”Bucky, I…I fucking want it all. I want you to ruin me. Take me as your own. Please.”You cried out, as he thrusted hard at the words that fell from your mouth, the tip of his cock grazing your cervix.

“I can do that.” He whispered, his lips finding your neck, pressing you against the wall just a little more as he picked up his pace, kissing along your pulse, letting his teeth graze your skin before sinking in just enough to cause a jolt to shoot through you. You tilted your head back, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the bathroom as he grunted against your neck, his hand grabbing tightly on your thigh.

“God you’re making me lose my mind.” He moaned, breathless from the fast pace he was thrusting into you with, the coil in your stomach tightening, twisting, and burning with a fury of a thousand suns.

”I’m going to come again B-Bucky.” You could barely string that simple sentence together as your body arched into his.

”I know. I’m gonna ruin you just like you asked.” He whispered, his lips finding yours, as the both of you opened your mouths, his tongue teasing yours, his hips rolling at just the right angle so he could drag another moan out of you.

“Bucky…” His name left your lips like a prayer, your back slipping up the wall with each harsh thrust. There was no rhythm at this point, it was just mindless, and all consumed.

“I’ve got you baby. Be a good girl…Come for me.” It only took another deep, perfectly angled thrust before you shattered around him, your body clenching, trembling, lost in wave after wave of pleasure, your walls clenching tightly. Bucky followed right after, his unstable rhythm breaking as he groaned against your neck, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he let go, his grip on you digging into the sensitive flesh of your hips as he buried himself as deep as he could, filling you up with ropes of cum.

The only sounds left were ragged breaths between you, the hot shower water still falling over the both of you. Bucky didn’t move right away, he slowly took his teeth off your shoulder, observing the dark red marks that he had left, a satisfied smile pulling up on his lips, peppering soft, gentle kisses along the damage. You sighed as he leaned back just enough to look at you, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

”You’re so fucking incredible.” He whispered, pecking your lips. You smiled at him, your fingers brushing over his shoulders, feeling his arms tightening around you.

“We should wash off…Then give the bed a test drive.” You suggested. He laughed.

”Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky smut #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan characters #winter solider x reader #james barnes x reader #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #angst with a happy ending #angst #smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 6 hours ago

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hiii! can i request a bucky fanfic that takes place in civil war? specifically, the scene where zemo activated the winter solider and he starts attacking the avengers. and the soldier notices reader but for some reason spares her. maybe the reader is also an avenger, and has an established relationship with bucky? thank youuuu, have a good day! <33

Sparing You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America and the Avengers

Summary: Bucky spares you when he’s in Winter Soldier mode.

Warnings: Fluff, tiny bit of Angst, language, established relationship, boyfriend!Bucky/girlfriend!reader, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request @timmytimberdrake 🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

As you watched the camera footage of the room Bucky is in with Zemo, you could tell that something wasn’t right about Zemo. You didn’t need to be in the same room as him to know that.

“Something doesn’t seem right with that Zemo guy.” You say.

Steve nods as he continues to watch the footage. You stood up from your seat and walked over to Steve, standing next to him to get a better look at the screen. As you guys continued watching it, the power went out, confusing everyone. You, Steve, and Sam exchanged looks before making your way to where Bucky is. Bucky wasn’t in the metal pod or anywhere in the room when you guys got in there. Zemo wasn’t on the floor. Steve grabbed him by his jacket and slammed him against the wall.

“What the hell did you do to him?” You asked Zemo.

“You’ll find out in a moment, Miss. Y/L/N.” Zemo says, smirking evilly.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

How the hell does he know your name?

That’s when Bucky came out of nowhere and started attacking Steve and Sam. He threw Sam against the pod and shoved Steve against the elevator doors hard enough to make him fall through them. Your eyes went wide. That was enough to tell you that Bucky is in Winter Soldier mode. Bucky turned around, accidentally bumping into you. You stumbled backwards, but didn’t fall. You stared up at him, waiting for him to attack you, but he didn’t. He just stared down at you for a few seconds before walking away. Now, you’re confused.

Why didn’t he attack you like he did to Steve and Sam just seconds ago?

You followed him through the building, making sure he didn’t notice you. You hid along the wall that led to a seating area with some tables. You poked your head out to see Bucky attacking the rest of the Avengers.

“Is Barnes in there?” Tony asks from behind you.

“Yes.” You replied.

Tony got his blaster ready and aimed it at Bucky, blasting him. Your eyes went wide when he did that. You watched Bucky approach Tony with a gun.

“Uh oh.” You mumbled to yourself.

You felt like you should do something. You ran out to the seating area before Bucky could shoot Tony. You managed to get the gun out of Bucky’s strong grip. You unloaded the bullets from it and threw it as far as you could. Bucky just stared at you. You gulped, thinking he was going to attack you this time, but he didn’t. He gently moved you to the side before attacking Tony.

“Why didn’t Barnes attack you?” T’Challa asks.

“I-I don’t know.” You replied.

You didn’t let Bucky out of your sight even when after he went after T’Challa. You followed him, keeping your distance. Following him led both of you to the roof of the building. You watched Bucky get on the helicopter and started it. Steve opened the door, entering the roof. You watched Steve run towards the helicopter and grabbed onto it so Bucky couldn’t fly away. He used all of his strength to pull it down. He wanted to stop his best friend before things got worse.

———

Steve managed to get Bucky to an abandoned factory. Bucky was unconscious at the moment. You stared at Bucky while biting your nails as you thought to yourself. You were curious to know why Bucky didn’t attack you when he was in Winter Soldier mode. That’s when it hit you. You and Bucky met during your trip to Romania last Summer. You and him hung out and got to know each other. You two made it official before leaving to go back home. You guys kept yours and his relationship a secret. You hate that you kept this from your friends, especially Steve.

“Y/N, are you ok? Did he hurt?” Steve asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm? Yea, I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.” You say.

Steve stared at you, studying your body language. He could tell that you were keeping something from him and he’s going to find out what it is.

“Cap, he’s waking up.” Sam says.

You, Steve, and Sam enter the area Bucky is in. Bucky groans as he wakes up. He furrows his eyebrows when he notices that his metal arm is wedged in some kind of machine.

“Steve…” Bucky says, his voice raspy from waking up.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks.

“Your mom’s name is Sarah and you used to wear newspaper in your shoes.” Bucky says.

“Can’t read that in a museum.” Steve says.

“And now, we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam says.

“What did I do?” Bucky asks, looking at Sam.

“Nothing.” You say softly.

Bucky turns his attention to you, smiling when he seen you. Steve looks from Bucky to you, sensing something between the two of you.

“What’s going on between you two?” Steve asks you and Bucky.

You looked at Bucky. He nodded, letting you know it’s ok to tell Steve about yours and his relationship.

“Remember when I went on a trip to Europe last Summer?” You asked.

Steve and Sam nodded.

“Well, I went to Romania for the remainder of my trip and I met Bucky when I was there. Him and I hung out and got to know each other. We made our relationship official before I came home. Him and I kept it a secret.” You explained.

“How long have you two been together?” Steve asks.

“Almost a year.” You tell him.

“A year?! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Steve says.

“Don’t get mad at her. I’m the one who said to keep our relationship a secret.” Bucky says.

Steve sighs and puts his hands on his hips, trying to process the fact that you kept your relationship with Bucky a secret for almost a year.

“Can I ask you something?” Sam ask Bucky.

Bucky looks at Sam and nods.

“Why didn’t you attack Y/N when you were in Winter Soldier mode?” He asks curiously.

“I wanted to spare her. Even though all of the programming, I still somehow knew who she is.” Bucky says.

You smiled and walked over to Bucky, giving him a hug.

“I would’ve forgiven you even if you did attack me.” You say softly, gazing in his blue eyes.

Bucky stared in your eyes. He loves how loving you are. He also loves how you can see past his mistakes he made over the years. That’s his favorite things about you. Bucky’s right hand cups your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin. He kisses you softly and sweetly. As Steve looks at the two of you and watches the cute moment unfold in front of him, he then realizes that Bucky most likely asked you to keep yours and his relationship a secret to protect you so nothing bad happened to you.

“You guys kept your relationship a secret to protect her, didn’t you?” Steve asks.

“Yes.” Bucky answers softly.

“I didn’t mean to get mad at you guys. It would’ve been nice to know. Just don’t keep anymore secrets from us, ok?” Steve says.

You and Bucky nodded. Now, that you guys talked everything out and got it out of the way, you guys can move forward on the plan.

“I know a guy.” Sam says.

Steve nods, letting Sam know to call him.

“I’ll protect you.” You say softly to Bucky.

“You’re so sweet, doll.” Bucky smiles. “I love you.” He almost whispers, kissing your lips softly.

“I love you too, sweetie.” You whispered back.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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societyfolklore · 2 days ago

Text

Stolen Devotion – Part 1

Title: Stolen Devotion – Part 1

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes Female Reader

Fic Summary: You don’t know he exists. But Bucky Barnes has been watching you- learning your patterns, your loneliness, your pain. What started as curiosity has turned into something deeper, darker. Ignore by your husband, dismissed by your mother, you move through life like a ghost. But Bucky sees you. Bucky understands you. And Bucky has decided you belong to him.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: / Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI, Possessive/ Obsessive behaviour. Dub Con/Non Con (eventually), Dubious Morality, General dark themes, Emotional Neglect and Marital Issues, Stalking, Pinning, Masturbation, Voyeurism. Eventual Smut

A/N: This isn’t connected to ApplePie (just encase anyone thought it was.. its not) This currently doesn’t have a unload schedule.. updates will come when they come.. (hopefully monthly)

The night was quiet, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and freshly cut grass. Bucky stood near the shed, swallowed by the shadows, his breath slow and steady as he watched the warm glow of the kitchen window. The contrast between the golden light spilling from inside and the oppressive darkness around him made his pulse quicken. It was intimate, the way he could stand here, unseen, yet so close. Like he was already a part of her world, even if you didn't know it yet.

There you were, standing over the sink, washing dishes. Your movements were slow, almost mechanical, as though she was moving through water, dragged down by something unseen. He studied the way her fingers curled around the plate, how the suds slid down her wrist, dripping into the sink. The way her shoulders slumped, her head tilting forward as if the weight of the day had physically pressed her down. She was tired. She was always tired.

It had started as just curiosity. At first, it had been enough to linger in places you'd had been, to pick up on your patterns without even realizing it. But then he'd found himself needing more. Watching you became habit, then necessity.

You had seemed so alone. He had felt it- smelled it, almost. The weight of it settled on you like a permanent shadow, stretching long behind you, inescapable. Loneliness clung to you like a second skin, something you'd clearly grown used to wearing. Bucky knew that kind of loneliness. The kind that burrowed into your chest and hollowed you out, leaving nothing but quiet ache and a desperate, gnawing need to be seen. He remembered it from the war, from HYDRA, from the years afterward when his reflection had felt like a stranger. It wasn’t just sadness. It was the absence of something vital, something necessary to keep existing. And you were drowning in it, just like he had.

Watching had been enough, an attempt to know you observing, you were safe because he was there.

But now? Now it frustrated him.

You didn't even know he existed… not yet. But he saw you. Bucky knew you better than anyone. Better than you husband, better than the people she called family, the ones who never really listened. They didn’t see the way you shrank when you tried to share, how your smiles never reached your eyes anymore. How you'd had stopped singing to herself when you cooked. Bucky had even noticed they your hands shook now when you reached for your husband.

Bucky was always looking.

But there was something was different tonight. There was a weight in your posture, a heaviness in the way your shoulders curled inward, an attempt to disappear. His brows furrowed as he studied you, his fingers twitching at his sides. He needed to know what had happened today- why you moved like a your throat was stuck in a noose.

He would check the footage later. The camera inside the house would tell him everything. It always did.

For now, he just watched as she scrubbed a plate, her hands methodical, detached. As if she wasn’t really there. As if she had already faded away.

The more he watched, the harder it became to resist the pull inside him, the voice that whispered that he should go to her, should break through the back door and wrap himself around her, press his lips to her temple, breathe her in until the cloud lifted. He could already see it- the way you’d lean into him if he gave you the chance, the way you might even sigh, as your body recognizing that you were finally safe, finally wanted and belonged. With him. He would hold you up when you felt like falling, steady you when the weight of life threatened to break you back down.

You would look at him, really look at him, and you would know. It was supposed to be Bucky, That you had been waiting for him all along.

And he would make you smile again. He was so sure.

Swallowing hard Bucky put aside the dream and watched you stare blankly at the sink. The knife twisting, deep and aching in his stomach. His fingers reaching inside his jacket. Tucked in the inner pocket, was you journal. His proof. His tether to her. Bucky had memorized the pages, the way your handwriting looped in hurried, frantic scrawls when she was anxious, the way you drew tiny stars in the margins when you felt hopeful. And that was why he had to do this. Why he had to make sure you see what he saw. He was perfect for you, like you were for him. Even if you just didn’t know it yet.

~#~#~#~#~#~

The hum of machines filled the laundromat, a steady, rhythmic backdrop to the occasional clatter of loose change against metal. The air smelled faintly of detergent and heat, warm and artificial, like every laundromat he had ever stepped into. It was late, the kind of late where most people had already gone home, leaving only a few night-dwellers to finish their routines in silence.

Bucky hadn’t come here for anything other than laundry. Just another errand. Another forgettable task.

He moved toward an empty row of machines, his footsteps muffled against the linoleum floor. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, casting a dull glow over the space. He reached into the canvas bag slung over his shoulder, pulling out a bundle of clothes- they were stained, stiff with sweat and the scent of his own skin, the lingering trace of metal and gun oil clinging to the fabric.

Methodically, he began sorting, separating darks from lights, pressing his fingers into the fabric as if feeling the past days imprinted there. Shirts, pants, socks, each piece sliding between his fingers, dropping into the machine with a soft thud. The rhythm of it was almost soothing, mechanical, thoughtless.

That’s when he heard you.

A voice, soft but carrying through the space, frayed at the edges with something he recognized too well. “I don’t know, Mom, I just… I just thought maybe he’d want to. That he’d try a little.”

Bucky reached for the detergent, unscrewing the cap with a flick of his wrist, the sharp, artificial scent filling his nose as he poured the thick liquid into the dispenser. The sound of water rushing in, he shouldn't eavesdrop. “No, I’m not saying he doesn’t care, I just- ”

He closed the lid, pressed the button, and stepped back. Another task completed. Another minute filled. Your voice carried through the space, soft yet worn, as if every word was carefully chosen, every syllable a quiet plea to be heard. There was no anger in your tone, no raised voice- just exhaustion. The kind that settled deep in the bones, that stretched out over years and never really left.

"I am tryin-"

The words cut off abruptly. Bucky knew why. He could hear it, the shift in your posture, the way your spine straightened as if bracing for something inevitable. He glanced over without meaning to, drawn to the sight of you gripping the phone tighter, your knuckles whitening with the effort of holding back whatever you wanted to say next.

“Oh.. uh-huh. Yeah. No, I know. I know. You’re right.”

The resignation in your voice settled over you like a second skin, wrapping around you until it became part of your form. Bucky knew that weight. He had carried it before. The kind of loneliness that turned your voice into something hollow, that made your own words feel foreign, useless. He had been there, in the silence after, when you stopped expecting to be heard at all. “Yeah. No, I’m listening Mom."

He watched, unnoticed, as you moved, your fingers loosening, releasing the tension only when you finally pulled the phone away from your ear. You let out a breath- a shaky, barely-there exhale, the kind that people gave when they were used to being disappointed. He could hear the other voice on the phone too, the conversation had been changed on you.

Bucky watched as you set your journal down, distracted, stepping away to collect your clothes from the dryer.

"Oh really? That much for dinner? God.. Yeah? I can send you some money-"

He shouldn’t have been watching, but he was. The way your fingers skimmed the fabric, methodical, folding each piece with quiet precision. Then, with a quick check of your pocket, you counted your last few coins- and left them there.

A kindness for a stranger. Something that would brighten someone else’s day..

No hesitation, no thought to it. Just something you did without needing to be acknowledged. Then, for the briefest second, you smiled.

It was like you just lit up and a warmth crept into Bucky chest he'd forgotten was possible.

A real smile. Soft. Private. Just for you.

And then- it was gone. Stolen away by whatever your mother said next.

"Mom, I said I'd transfer you something, you don't need to- No I'm not making you beg.. Mom. I'm just finishing laundry, give me a second to get to the car."

Bucky felt something inside him crack.

Someone that kind shouldn’t look that unhappy.

You gathered your things, your shoulders curled inward, retreating back into yourself. And Bucky just stood there, watching you leave.

The sound of the washer the only noise as he spotted the journal, abandoned on the plastic bench, the edges curling slightly from use. Bucky scooped it but as he looked up going for the door he saw a car pull away. His fingers twitched, looking down at the beaten thing... Maybe there was an address written in it, your name even.. He wasn’t snooping. But then his eyes landed on the first few lines. And he couldn’t stop reading. Under the harsh fluoro lights Bucky flicked through pages. He knew it was wrong, that there was something so intimate about it, the way your thoughts spilled onto the pages like quiet confessions, things you probably never said out loud. He could hear your voice in them, the way your words faltered in some places, the way you'd crossed things out but still left them readable as if you wanted to take them back but couldn’t.

Some pages were filled with long, rambling entries, streams of consciousness that read like a desperate attempt to untangle the thoughts.. Others were empty, just a date at the top, as if you'd had sat down to write but found nothing left to say. Those pages were the ones that made his chest ache the most. Because he understood them. The silence. The emptiness.

And then, near the back, a list. Small, written in neat, deliberate handwriting:

Call Mom back.

Buy more coffee - Extra strong

Get his beer - not the 'cheap stuff'

Get bread - Don't buy the one with seeds

Remember to breathe.

It doesn’t matter anyway.

Bucky stared at the last line, his jaw tightening. It doesn’t matter anyway.

He felt something sharp twist inside him.

Because it did matter.

She mattered.

And if no one else saw it then he would.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Bucky moved around the side of the house, following you from the kitchen to the living room, curled into the corner of the couch, the TV casting pale light across your face. Some drama played, but you weren’t really watching. You were just… existing, lost in the glow of something meant to be distracting.

Your husband was in the bedroom, phone in hand, oblivious to you. Just like always.

How was Bucky supposed to get to know you the right way? He should have just walked up to you back then found a way into your life that didn’t involve hiding in the shadows. But modern life wasn’t easy for him. No matter how much Sam or Steve had tried to help, Bucky barely understood how to hold conversations anymore, how to make small talk that wasn’t laced with the weight of everything.

The world had moved forward without him, and he was still stuck, unable to integrate, unable to connect.

He had tried dating. Sam had convinced him once. But it had felt all wrong, forced, complicated. He didn’t know how to navigate modern romance, didn’t know the rules. It had been exhausting, frustrating. It wasn’t like before, when things had been simpler, clearer.

But he did know how to track, how to plan, how to execute.

Watching you had become his new mission.

Until he could figure out how to save you from this life you felt trapped in

Bucky checked his watch, and like clockwork, in came your husband and announced his departure. Just like every week- Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights were 'for the boys,' and he was out, leaving you alone.

Bucky barely breathed as he stood in the darkness, watching through the thin veil of curtains as your husband bent down to kiss you goodbye, his hand groping at your chest before pulling away. The sight made Bucky’s jaw tighten, his hand balling into fist. Your husband didn’t notice the way you bristled, the way you shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He didn’t see the fleeting grimace, the way your shoulders curled inward just slightly, your body tensing under the unwanted touch.

But Bucky did.

The way your expression turned hollow, how your lips pressed together, how you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand the second your husband turned away. A quick motion, one so practiced, Bucky knew you had done it countless times before.

And then you called after him, an empty, mechanical, "I love you."

How did he not hear the pain in your voice?

How did he not see?

Bucky stood frozen, his pulse hammering as your husband grabbed his keys, barely sparing you another glance before heading out the door. Just like that, you were alone again.

I won’t hurt you. I’ll just take care of you..

You sat on the couch and drank two glasses of wine far to quickly for Bucky's liking. How badly did want to numb yourself tonight?

Bucky watched as you retreat to the bedroom. Again Bucky moved fast and silent to the side opposite side of the house, the curtain would be drawn now, he'd be unable to see so the former assassin pulled out his phone to watch the live camera feed.

You'd already gotten on the bed, stripped off having found something on your phone to excite you.

This is what you do at nights when your alone.

Well when you think you’re alone.

Bucky stared at his screen watching you, eyes half-lidded, mouth parted, fingers slippedbetween your thighs, your breathing slow and deep as you lost yourself in the moment. His enhanced hearing meant he could listen through the window without the aid of the microphone, though that’s recording you anyway.. The glow from the bedside lamp casts long, soft shadows, highlighting the curve of your body beneath on top the sheets, the way your hips shifted, the tension building inside you.

It’s different than when your husband is with you. When that idiot rolls on top of you grunting and rutting while you fake every noise.

No, these moment, this pleasure- This is real.

Bucky watches, transfixed. The way your fingers move, languid and deliberate, chasing something only you know how to give yourself. He can hear the faintest sound, the breathy little gasps escaping your lips.

I know what you looks like when your lost in it. He doesn’t.

His hand gripped his phone tighter. He should stop watching. He should shut off the screen, turn away, step back. he can rewatch this in his own apartment but he doesn’t.

The ache in his chest sharpens into something else. Something darker. Something he can’t ignore.

Bucky hand slips into his pants, wrapping around his cock, the rough drag of his palm sending a shudder through him as he matches your rhythm. He's so hard it hurt. Bucky bite down hard on his lip, forcing himself to stay quiet. Every noise you make sends a pulse of heat through him, fuels the twisted hunger that has taken root in his chest. As your fingers plunge in an out of yourself your other hand rubbing circles around that little button of yours.

You arch your back, your fingers curling, your breath hitching just slightly as you chase that peak. His grip tightens, his strokes faster now, heat curling in his spine.

Wish it was me. Wish I was the one making you sound like that.

He can imagine it- his hands on your hips, his fingers sliding over your slick skin, his mouth covering yours to swallow every moan, every whimper. You’d let him, you would. You’d gasp his name, melt into his touch, beg him not to stop. He wouldn’t. He’d give you what you needed, what you deserved. He’d ruin you for anyone else. He’d stretch you open, watch your cunt clench around him, struggling to take all of him, making you feel every inch until you were trembling, pleading for more. You’d be so tight, so perfect, made to take him, made to be his.

His breath stutters, muscles tensing as the heat coils impossibly tight, and then-

His release is hot, sticky, spilling over his hand, his jaw clenched to keep from groaning your name into the night. He breathes hard, chest rising and falling, the remnants of pleasure thrumming through his veins.

His gaze drifts back to you, still lost in the aftershocks of your own pleasure, unaware that someone had just come apart watching you.

Bucky swallows, heart hammering.

At least he feels close to you.

144 notes · View notes

brunchable · 4 months ago

Text

𝙄 𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 [ 2 ]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Friends to Lovers. SMUT: Touch Hungry Bucky, Kiss Hungry Bucky, Bucky just not getting enough of you, fingering, cunnilingus, Oral [M&F], unprotected piv, creampie. Just PURE making love, no kinks. Summary: It's only been a few hours since you've become official and Bucky want to show you just how much you mean to him. A/N: 2 of 2. And I must say. . . JAYSUS. BON APETITIDDIES.

Part One

You were stiff. You were sore. Your arm was asleep. And you felt fucking fantastic.

Maybe in the movies people woke up entwined in each other's arms after a night of spirited lovemaking, but for you, reality was much more awkward. Your head had somehow become wedged behind Bucky’s shoulder, and both his legs were about to slide off the couch altogether. You untangled yourself as best you could, looking down at him as you moved his limbs out of the way.

Bucky was sleeping peacefully, his dark lashes lying flat against the skin beneath his eyes. They fluttered slightly as you pulled free of him, and he stirred.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled, and turned over so he was facing the back of the couch, still caught in mid-slide towards the floor.

You tried not to laugh. God, he was adorable.

You sat up, arching your back to stretch out the sore muscles. Then your breath caught. What time was it? Holy hell, I’m going to be late.

You stood up quickly, and was seized by an ache between your legs so unfamiliar that you nearly sat back down again. Holy crap. It had been way too long. You almost felt like a virgin again. You rose again shakily, noticing that your whole groin felt sore, and so did your hips—probably from throwing your legs up around his waist. God, what a wanton hussy you were, you thought happily.

You went quietly towards the bathroom, checking the clock on the stove as you walked by. It was nearly eight-thirty. Crap. You were supposed to be at work by nine, or nine-thirty at the latest. you'd have to make the shower a quick one.

You stood under the hot water, letting it pour over your sore muscles. You washed out your hair, lathered up your body and massaged your sore hips as random images from last night invaded your thoughts. Even now you weren't entirely convinced it hadn't all been a dream. Has it really happened? The soreness was real enough. And so were the images flashing through your mind.

Bucky’s body on yours, looming over you, holding your wrists, kissing you with abandon. Taking each breast in his mouth, teasing you with his fingers. Sliding into you, tilting your back and thrusting deeper, faster, harder.

Suddenly a blurry figure appeared on the other side of the glass door. The door slid open and he stood there, looking disheveled from sleep but adorably sexy. And naked, too.

"Hi," he said, a seductive smile curving his lips. His eyes traveled down your naked body, pausing at your breasts and then sliding down to the between your legs where rivulets of water coursed and ran together.

You flushed at the frank inspection but willed yourself not to try to hide from him. You shifted your weight, jutting your hip out provocatively and smiled.

His eyes returned to yours, desire glinting in them. "May I join you?"

You pushed the door back and invited him in. Bucky stepped in and crowded you, not unpleasantly, until your back was up against the tiles. He braced his hands on the wall behind you, and let the water flow over him as he leaned down and kissed you.

You opened to him and kissed him back, winding your hands around his waist and sliding them down his ass, squeezing appreciatively. He smiled into the kiss, enjoying your wandering hands, then pushed forward so your bodies were pressed together, the water slick and warm between you.

"So," he murmured in your ear, his voice barely a whisper above the sound of the water. "So much for that idea."

"What idea was that?" you whispered back, kissing his ear.

"The idea that we could ever be just friends," he said, catching your jaw with his lips as you turned your head. He covered your neck with slow, lingering kisses, trailing his mouth down your and cupping your breast with his hand.

"Oh, I don't know, I think it's a great idea so far," you said coquettishly. "Besides," you joked. "I do this with all my male friends."

He mocked a scowl at you, and gave you that smile that had always melted you. "Well, that's going to have to stop. You're mine now."

He kissed you slowly, his tongue tangling with yours as he teased and tasted, enjoying your mouth.

You kissed him back, licking and tasting and enjoying him until you felt rather than heard a hum of desire, of pure carnal lust, vibrating through him. He was growing hard against your belly, his cock pressing against you urgently.

He lowered his head further and took your nipple into his mouth, licking the soft nub until it grew hard beneath his tongue. Pleasure shot through you, and he turned to lavish the same attention on your other breast. You writhed against the cold tiles at your back, arching into him and sinking your fingers into his hair to hold him to you. He smiled as you moaned with pleasure, and laughed softly when he took your nipple between his teeth and made you suck in a sharp breath.

His cock was as hard as it had been a few hours ago, and it surged in your hand as he took your breasts. You gathered some suds into your palm and grasped him again, feeling the iron-hardness of him beneath the silky skin. You began to stroke, gliding fast and smooth, and he groaned from the pleasure of it, collapsing against you and kissing you between his soft, low sounds of pleasure and need.

You kept stroking and teasing, gliding over him in a steady rhythm, and felt yourself growing warm and slick at how hard he was beneath your fingers. You loved that you were doing that to him, making him want you so much. He groaned, his breath jagged and shallow. He tried to kiss you through his mounting pleasure but he had to break off to breathe, to lose himself in the sensation.

"God, baby," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "So good."

You tried not to focus on him calling you baby, knowing it was only his arousal talking. You focused instead on the intense pleasure that was making him say it. You continued stroking him, changing your hand position so that you pulled up with each stroke, teasingly pulling his skin up over the head each time and sinking down to the base, pleasuring every inch of him. Your other hand cupped his balls and caressed him, gently rolling him around in your fingers as he tensed and surged and seemed to fight against you, against the unbearable pleasure you were causing him.

After a few torturous moments he stopped your hand, his breathing so fast and ragged that he could hardly speak.

“You—don't want—this to end too soon, do you?” he warned, kissing you in between breaths. “Because, my God, you could make me come in seconds if you wanted to.”

“That might be fun,” you said, kissing the edges of his mouth, licking at his lips and his tongue when he opened his mouth to you again.

“For me, yes,” he breathed, breaking away from you. “But I'm not nearly finished with you yet.”

He slipped his hand into your hair and held your head, kissing you with such raw passion, such naked need that you felt a surge of warmth flood between your legs in spite of the cooling effects of the water. He had wrung a soul-shattering orgasm out of you just a few hours ago and yet here you were again, eager for him again. Wanton hussy indeed.

"Do you remember that night, two years ago?" he asked, his voice low and deep. "At the party, when I played that song on the guitar for you, and you asked whether it hurt my fingers to play the steel strings?"

He was watching his own fingers trail over your breasts, over your tightened nipple, down past your navel, as the water trickled over you both.

"Mmm hmmm," you murmured, your eyes closed, lost in the sensation of the water coursing down your body and his hand moving over you.

“And you touched my fingertips…”

Of course you remembered; you'd run your fingers over the roughened pads of his fingertips, and had watched in delight as he'd twitched a little, and then trembled, just a little, at your touch. You'd kept your touch feather-light and soft, drifting over his fingertips and down his fingers a little, feeling the shiver of heightened awareness in your own hands.

Maybe you'd been a little too suggestive, a little too lingering, whispering-touching those parts of him that were supposedly hardened against such sensations—but you'd been unable to stop yourself. His hands had been warm and strong and eminently male, and when he'd stiffened and held his breath, as if willing himself not to react to your seductive touch, you'd felt that shiver of awareness deepen into an intense desire.

Such a seemingly innocent touch, just a friend examining the time-worn calluses of a guitar player's fingertips. . .and yet in that moment, even amongst their friends, even with the music playing loud and the laughter soaring above it, you'd felt like it had been just the two of you in that room, touching each other intentionally for the very first time, your hand tentatively reaching out for his, and his reaching to meet your half way.

“You drove me wild.” he said, leaning to kiss your neck. “I got so hard, I was afraid to move. And after that, I kept thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you with these fingers.” He slipped his hand between your legs and caressed your folds, parting them gently and sliding inside you. “Like this, for instance.”

You moaned and leaned your head against his shoulder, letting him touch you wherever he wanted. His fingers explored you, caressed you, possessed you, expertly as though they, too, knew you were his.

“I just had to touch you,” you breathed against him. “And believe me, this is what I was thinking about too.”

“You stopped me last night,” he murmured, dragging his mouth along your neck. “I wanted to feel you come for me. To finish what you started that night.”

You groaned at the sound of his voice, so low and sexual, so heated with his own desire.

“Let me feel you come for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, licking your earlobe. “Please.”

He gripped your hip and lifted you up against the wall slightly, positioning you so he could slide his fingers deep inside you. He held you firmly around the waist, bracing you against the wall, and thrust into you gently, with first one finger, then two, sliding deeper and deeper each time, stretching you, mimicking the size and power of his cock. His thumb played over your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you as he pressed his forehead to yours and gazed down into your eyes. You gasped and cried out from the overwhelming pleasure of it even as you squirmed beneath his fingers and ached for more.

He braced you against his thigh and pressed against you while his arm steadied you from behind, holding you completely in his grasp. Bucky had such a way of holding you, letting you know that you were going nowhere, making sure you had no desire to be anywhere but in his arms. You felt safe, and secure, and above all, worshiped.

Bucky bent down and kissed you, sliding his fingers into your with a wild, sensuous rhythm that matched the increasing speed of his thumb as it stroked and rubbed and swirled around your aching clit. His hand was so strong, his fingers curving inside you to caress you, to find that super-sensitive inner spot even as he plunged and drove and took. With his thumb circling your clit in a relentless rhythm and his fingers deep inside you, stretching you, claiming you, you felt completely owned by him, by the hand that possessed every inch of you.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, matching the rhythm of his fingers, swirling, tasting, mutely revealing that he had had another fantasy, too. The thought of his mouth on you, his tongue tasting you, torturing you, swirling over your clit as you writhed beneath it made you go weak in the knees.

Bucky broke away from the kiss and began trailing kisses down your neck, your breasts, lowering himself to his knees in front of you while bracing your hips against the tiles with his strong hands.

"Did I mention what it did to me the first time your tongue touched mine?" he whispered devilishly.

He looked up at you so intently, his beautiful blue eyes blazing as the water streamed over his shoulder and down the contours of his chest. You gazed down at him, and for the second time this morning questioned whether all this could actually be happening. This gorgeous, virile man gripping you, kneeling before you, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It couldn't be real, could it?

Then he lowered his lips to your and you knew it was.

Sensation tore through your touch, so delicately gentle at first, and you arched against the wall with a startled cry. You reached down and gripped his shoulder, steadying yourself on one foot as he brought you to your leg up slowly, gently and eased it over his shoulder. The sight of it alone nearly made you come. He moved so languidly, so sensuously, positioning you better so he could enjoy your all the more.

He closed his mouth over your clit and kissed it luxuriously, his lips moving as though he were kissing your mouth. His tongue swirled over you in large, sensuous circles and he groaned against you, tightening his grip on your hip as you moaned against the sudden overwhelming pleasure of it. The tip of his tongue darted out to flick against your rapidly as he looked up at you again, watching your pleasure, his eyes smiling at you as if he knew precisely how good he was making you feel. Then he fell on you again, his tongue roaming over you, tasting you, luxuriating in your folds and dipping to lap at your entrance.

“Oh my, g-god. Bucky—”

You bucked against him and cried out as his tongue slipped into your and pulsed there, gently, savouring you. Your hand sank into his wet hair and as you gripped his head, you were rewarded with a muted chuckle and a more intense forward surge of his tongue inside you. He liked the moans he wrought from you. He liked being able to make your cry out and seize him, your head thrown back in agonizing pleasure.

And fuck did you like it, too.

"Oh God," you breathed, your heart thundering in your chest. "My God, that feels so good..."

He withdrew from your and slid his tongue up to torture your aching clit, and just when you began to miss the feel of him inside your he gently pushed his fingers into your again and began to thrust.

Pleasure soared through you and you cried out even louder, and the leg draped over his shoulder began to tremble. His tongue circled your clit again, deliciously slowly, as his fingers slid into you over and over again, a sensual, primitive rhythm that made you want to grind your hips against the pleasure.

“I'm coming,” you whispered urgently. “You're going to make me come…”

His fingers thrust deeper and faster and he began to lick you so quickly, with such a throaty groan of pleasure that you felt your orgasm rise, terrifyingly fast and sharp, making you cry out in increasing, panting breaths until you shattered, coming violently around his fingers and that sensuous, irresistible tongue. You shuddered with an aching cry and trembled from the spasms he sent rippling through you. Your body curled forward as you gripped him tighter, your fingers pulling on his hair from the pressure.

He removed your leg from his shoulder gently as you continued to shudder, feeling aftershocks of pleasure shiver through you. He got to his feet and helped you stand, pressing himself against your and nuzzling your neck.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, your voice shaking. your whole body shaking. “That was incredible.”

“That...was just the prelude,” he whispered, kissing you. “I haven't even started pleasuring you yet.”

God, he was going to kill you. Death by orgasm, you thought happily. What a way to go.

He leaned to turn off the water, but he stilled his hand. He looked back at you with a questioning expression, and then understood. You pulled him back towards yourself and he went willingly, stepping back under the stream of water, kissing you deeply, his hands roaming greedily over your body.

You weren't done with him. He had made you feel like a goddess, worshiped, cherished, adored.

You broke off the kiss and began trailing your lips down his neck, his collarbone and chest, enjoying the warmth of the water trickling past your mouth. His chest muscles tensed as you kissed them, and as you moved your lips slowly down his abdomen you felt his whole body go rigid with anticipation. You sank to your knees in the tub and brushed kisses along his navel, his hip bones, and he put his hands on your shoulders to steady himself. Water coursed over both of you, and you delighted in it, closing your eyes against the spray.

“Baby,” Bucky said softly, barely audible above the water.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. He was about to say something but you smiled and glanced away, focusing instead on the head of his cock, hard and urgent in front of you. He was thick and beautiful, and still as hard, maybe even harder, than he had been when you'd teased him with your hands.

“I want to taste you,” you said playfully. “All of you.”

You leaned forward and gently licked the swollen tip of his cock. He inhaled sharply, his whole body tensing, and you smiled up at him, letting him know this was for your pleasure as much as for his. You swirl your tongue around the head, taking it into your mouth and suckling gently, teasing it. The skin was soft and smooth, stretched deliciously tight from the hardness of his erection.

You let your tongue play over it, dipping into the opening, making him moan. You drifted your tongue along the ridge, and down to the sensitive skin just beneath the head, licking and tasting, nipping and kissing.

You looked up at him, and his dark eyes were wild with desire. You smiled, and ran your tongue up and down the length of him, ending at the head and flicking at it delicately, teasingly. He moaned softly, his breathing starting to grow rapid. You rose up slightly to take the whole length of him into your mouth and sucked him, long and hard.

He let out a gasp and braced himself against the wall with one hand, his other hand gripping your shoulder.

“Oh fuck—Baby...”

You slid your mouth over his shaft, deeper, deeper, and slid back up the length of him. Your hands came around and gripped his ass, pulling him towards you. He staggered forward slightly as you took him into your mouth again, luxuriously taking in his entire length, sucking, licking, tasting as you went. The sensation of him in your mouth was almost as overwhelming as his first entrance into your body had been, so unfamiliar but so right at the same time.

You caressed his balls with one hand as you played your tongue over his cock. He groaned, his breathing jagged now, his cock harder than ever. His hand moved from your shoulder to sink into your wet hair, and he gripped your head with barely restrained urgency. Gently he guided your head closer to him as you sucked. You lowered yourself onto him and slowly sucked your way back up, your mouth gripping him, your cheeks hollowing, as your tongue slid over him with each pass.

His hips began to move as he started to match your rhythm, thrusting into you, meeting your mouth. Bucky gripped your head more firmly and held your head still, driving into you gently.

You let your hand fall and you sat back on your haunches, enjoying the feeling of him sliding in and out of your mouth, controlling his own pleasure, taking what he wanted, and what you were so willing to give. Yet you could tell he was holding back, wanting to thrust harder and faster but restraining himself and settling for a smoother, slower pace.

For you. Bucky was holding back for your sake. This passionate, soulful, virile man was holding back his own pleasure because he wanted to be gentle with you.

The very thought of it excited you, and you increased your own rhythm, encouraging him, moaning with pleasure as he drove into you. You sucked harder, faster, turning your gaze up to him with an urgent plea in your eyes. Faster. Deeper. Now, my love.

And he understood.

Bucky groaned, and stepped forward. His hand clenched in your hair and he began to move, faster and harder, plunging deeper, holding your head as he thrust into your mouth with urgent, rhythmic strokes. He slid in and out of your mouth as if through warm honey, and you felt and heard his pleasure mounting with every ratcheted breath and every desperate moan that escaped his lips.

His eyes watched your with rapt adoration and abject lust, and you could tell that the sight of your taking him fully into your mouth, of your sucking him with pure, greedy abandon and complete acceptance, was pushing him closer to the edge as much as the intense pleasure of your tongue on his cock was. Or more.

He tensed as his rhythm grew faster, his breathing harder, until you felt him tighten and strain so much that you felt certain he was going to spill himself into your mouth. But at the last moment he cried out and pulled back, his cock slipping out of your mouth quickly. He stood still, breathless, his eyes closed as if willing his orgasm to retreat. Water sliced down his neck and chest, and finally he let out a slow, jagged moan of a breath and opened his eyes. He looked down at you wildly, and reached for you,helping you to your feet.

“Jesus,” he said breathlessly, staring at you as he tried to catch his breath. “I can't...I can't believe how goddamn good that felt. You brought me so close, so fast, I almost couldn't stop it.”

“Why did you?” you asked, running your finger along his jaw. “I wanted to feel you come for me.”

He groaned against you, his hands roaming over your body. “I told you, I'm not nearly done with you yet.”

He kissed you hungrily, his cock surging against your violently as your bodies met. you could feel him moving against you, his cock rubbing against you,and you knew how badly he wanted to be inside you again.

As badly as you wanted him inside you again.

He stepped back, his breath still ragged, and pressed his forehead to yours as he closed his eyes and tried to breathe.

“You're not done yet, huh?” you teased gently, letting your fingers sink into his wet hair as you kissed his neck.

“Not nearly.”

“But I have to go to work. Maybe if I'm lucky you'll be here when I get home?”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

He reached to turn off the water and stepped out of the shower, turning to help your step over the wall of the tub. You threw your robe on and cinched the belt as he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. You caught him grinning at you, and it was so clear what he was thinking that it made your laugh.

“What?” you demanded, squeezing the excess water out of your hair with a hand towel. “What are you smiling at?”

Bucky wetted his lips with his tongue, “Fuck it. You're just going to have to be late for work. Come here…”

“Hey!” your eyes widened playfully, jumping away from him. “Are you trying to kill me? Stop!”

Bucky untied your robe and you yelped, trying to slap his hands away. He just kept advancing on you, grinning devilishly. You turned and scampered away from him with a squeal of delight.

He followed behind, still grasping for the robe. You shrieked and laughed and ran towards the bedroom, and he followed, catching up to you and pushing you onto the bed with a resounding crack of the bed frame.

You laughed as he tumbled on top of you, but he silenced you with his mouth, kissing you hungrily as he impatiently pushed your robe aside. His breath was ragged as he nudged your legs apart with his knee, his need too great for the slow, sensual lovemaking of last night. He held his cock against your entrance and smoothly thrusts into you and moaned against your mouth, and you wrapped your legs around him to draw him deeper.

He plunged into you, covering your body and your mouth with the same hungry possession. You were still so warm and wet, so exquisitely ready for him that he filled you easily, driving you relentlessly as he tasted your tongue, your lips, your neck, and groaned from the pleasure your body was giving him.

You tensed around him and he moaned breathlessly, a throaty, male sound of pure ecstasy. He pounded into you, falling into a steady rhythm born of raw, primitive need. Your body tightened around him with every thrust, and waves of pleasure rippled through you, building in intensity up to an almost unbearable pressure, a delicious heat that made you moan into his mouth as he kissed you.

He rose up, his arms braced beside you, to look down as he stroked and withdrew and breathed out his pleasure while his eyes glowed pure heat. He grabbed your rear, tilting one hip up towards him, entering you on such an angle that a new kaleidoscope of pleasure bloomed throughout you. He gripped you possessively, driving you deeper and faster and harder. His eyes burned, glowing like obsidian, hot and wild and almost frenzied with desire.

“Baby,” he groaned, his eyes pinning you, claiming you, as though he were branding you with your heat.

You're mine...

Your first time together had only been hours ago, but it was as if you had been lovers for years...every fluid flexing of his hips against you hit just the right spot, every deep, powerful thrust of his cock stretched your pussy with a familiar, almost expected surge of pleasure.

“Yes—oh god yes, Bucky—fuck me,” you breathed.

Two simple words and suddenly he was on the edge...buried so deep inside you, thrusting, plunging, your breasts pressed against his chest, the pleasure roaring through his body.

Suddenly he wanted to take you, hard. He wanted to fuck you with abandon, the eyes-closed, head-back, moaning-out-loud kind of sexual abandon that he had so rarely experienced in his life, but which was crashing through his body and mind right now.

He wanted this woman...he wanted to own you, to take you, to claim your body as his....he wanted to fuck you until he'd emptied his balls into you, feeling your pussy clenching and spasming in orgasm around his cock as he came, as you came, as you came together.

He withdrew from you quickly, barely able to catch his breath, and, as if you could read his thoughts, you turned onto your stomach just as his trembling hands guided your hips over. Your hair spilled over your bare back and your ass curved out so seductively it was all he could do not to cum right there, all over your smooth skin. But his cock knew what it wanted, and he pulled you forward to slide into the heaven of your pussy, so wet and tight and swollen for him.

He cried out when he took your again, his cock parting your folds and filling you so completely. The feel of him stretching you, the crest of his head pressing against your from this new angle...you felt a tremor of pleasure ripple through you and knew you were close, as close as he was. When he leaned over you and began to kiss your shoulders you shuddered, and when he began to thrust you buried your face in the pillow and moaned.

Your moans of pleasure filled the room and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to last, begging his aching cock not to explode just yet. . .this pace, these quick short strokes as his hips slapped against your ass, your body moving with his every thrust. . .It was almost too much to bear. Bucky buried his faced in your sweet-smelling hair and let his cock plunge as it would, faster and faster, making him shake, making him breathless, making him feel like nothing but a desperate cock as he fucked you.

And fucked you. And fucked you, as you had begged him to...

You could only whimper now, lost to the pleasure of his man taking you like this, fucking you so wildly, almost savagely. The pleasure he was taking from your body, his moans and groans and the growls of pleasure you could feel against your back and in the warm breath at your ear. . . it was pure, primal lust.

You felt worshiped beneath him, as if every thrust of his hungry cock was a tribute to you, every growl and sharp breath an oath. He was fucking you, mindlessly, and yet every part of him was attuned to you, touching you, adoring you.

As his pace grew even faster, his thrusts shallower, you could sense he was about to come, and you felt your muscles tighten around him to heighten his pleasure and hers. His thrusts were so powerful that you felt the orgasm rising in you and you closed your eyes, lifting your head back so he could slide his hand into your hair, gently holding your neck and kissing your jaw with breathy, open-mouthed kisses.

“Oh, God Bucky...I'm coming,” you moaned. “I'm coming.”

“Yes...cum for me baby....cum on my cock.”

“Cum with me....please....I want you to cum inside me, please....please....”

And he could withstand it no more.

Pleasure detonated through him as his orgasm spasmed throughout his body, wracking him with wave after wave of euphoric release. He cried out your name as he thrust and bucked against your flesh, driving his cock deeper and deeper as he came and came and came. It felt like he would never stop cumming, and when he felt your orgasm tear through your pussy and clench his cock in waves, he thought he might black out from the sheer ecstasy of it.

You slammed back against him as the first spurts of cum began to fill you, and felt your ravaged pussy begin to spasm again and again, milking his cock, pulling his cum deeper into you, flooding you with ripples of pleasure. You moaned and writhed, riding the crest of one orgasm only to feel a second one begin to climb and then crash over you. Breathless, almost sobbing from the pleasure, you let him hold you as he continued to pound into you, draining his balls into you at his will, lost in the utter bliss of a man taking a woman in the most primal way.

When he could bear it no longer, when his exquisitely sensitive cock throbbed within you and the pleasure bordered on pain, he stilled, finally, and shuddered. Sharp spasms of pleasure shot through him as his cock surged one last time within you, his aching balls emptying every last ounce of come. Bucky was almost lightheaded, his chest heaving, sweat glazing his skin as he withdrew his hand from your hair and ran it down the center of your back, needing to touch you, needing to feel your heated skin. You were breathless too, your back moving beneath his hand as you lay your head down and tried to catch your breath.

You felt him withdraw from you, and your pussy rebelled, clenching to keep him there, as if pleading with him not to go. Bucky groaned softly against your ear as he pulled out and fell on the bed beside you, his arms surrounding you and pulling your back against him. You fit perfectly together, and every muscle in your body relaxed as you snuggled into him and breathed out a contented sigh. You felt his lips on the shell of your ear, kissing softly, felt his slowing breath against your skin as his soft sounds of contentment and pleasure hummed in his throat.

This is heaven, you thought. Pure heaven. your pussy twitched and tingled as you felt his warm come beginning to slip down your inner thighs. His strong arms surrounded you, his soft lips murmured and whispered and kissed, his spent cock nestled against the curve of your ass.

“There was something I wanted to tell you, remember?” he murmurs, his words brushing warmly against your skin as he kisses a path down to your shoulder. “Last night… something I wanted to say to you. Something I wanted you to know.”

You shift slightly, turning to look at him, your heart pounding as you search his eyes, barely able to breathe.

“Tell me,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea.

His gaze softens, an unmistakable warmth filling his expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

“I love you.”

The words settle between you, simple but perfect, like they were always meant to be there. Your heart feels like it’s soaring, every nerve in your body alive with the thrill of it, of finally hearing what you’d been aching to hear.

You break into a smile, biting your lip, feeling giddy and light, and without a second thought, you lean forward, kissing him softly, your hand finding his as you whisper back, “I love you too.”

And as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that feels like home, you realize that, for the first time, everything feels right.

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