#bucky james barnes

[mqstermindswift]

never trusting ppl who call this my man ugly

[httpscomexe]

Double Trouble

Day 1 of Kink-Tober - Double Penetration

Summary: You never listen on missions, and you’re not too sure that the punishment from your two best friends would change that at all.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: Arson, violence, fire, language, pv smut, fingering, oral, kind of non-con, forced sex if you squint, double pen (Lmk if I missed any)

Tags: @cellyx33

Word Count: (Find my Kink-Tober list here) 2769

P.S. If you would like to be added to the Kink-Tober tag list, just let me know.

“Investigators are still unsure of what has caused this explosion, but the accident is leading to an arsenic attack. There are no known motives leading to the fire, which officials believe was more of an attack with intended murder.

Only one body was found in the fire, a sixty-three year old man. After a quick look up, the police force discovered he was wanted for tax evasion along with seven other crimes that are punishable by death, including human trafficking, and other triggering activities.

The man went by the name “Firehouse,” ironic considering the situation, and his government issued name has been identified as “Donald Pastry Newsont.” If anyone has any information involving the situation, please call…”

“This shits annoying.” Bucky grumbles, reaching over to turn off the radio.

“Hey I was gonna call that number!” You joke in the back seat, sliding the thick fireproof pants off of your waist and onto the floor.

“Very funny, Y/N.” Steve, the driver, keeps his eyes on the road, but you occasionally see his eyes move to the mirror facing the middle backseat where you were.

“What? I have information on it.”

“We weren’t supposed to cause an explosion.” Bucky rubs circles on his temples. Annoyed by you. Yea. You weren’t supposed to blow up the house, but you couldn’t help it.

“I know that, but it was an accident.”

“You are literally wearing an entire fucking fireproof outfit.” Steve slams his hand on the wheel, a little more aggressively than he means to.

“Language Stevie.” You mumble, taking off the jacket part of your outfit.

“Can’t you take that off when we get to the damned hotel?”

“It’s like super hot.” You complain to Bucky, throwing the last of the articles of clothing on the floor before removing the long piece of ribbon from your ponytail that was holding your hair together, which you tie around your wrist. “Y’all are just jealous you don’t have fireproof gear.” You taunt, leaning forward as you rest your arms on the shoulders of their chairs.

“We ALL have fireproof suits. And we would’ve brought them if we knew you were going to start a fucking fire.” Bucky turns around, his face inches from yours.

“Oh come on. It was cool.”

“Yea, it was totally so cool when you zipped up your outfit before throwing the match on the ground and I barely had two seconds before the shit blew up to put my shield in front of me.” He turns the car, taking a right onto a one way street.

“Sorry, I just-”

“No.” Bucky cuts in, facing you again. His look is serious. You knew he didn’t like you disobeying what they tell you for missions this important. But this time they were both angry. Normally, it would just be Bucky, or just Steve. So you know you fucked up.

“You two bring up the bags, I’ll get the key.” Steve nods towards you and Bucky after putting the car in park. “And let's actually follow orders this time. Okay?” He asks, sarcastically.

You nod, getting out of the car with an annoyance in your step as you cover your body with crossed arms. The uniform you were wearing was more like lingerie. Normally it wouldn’t bother you around the two people you feel most comfortable with, but when they are mad, it only makes you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. So you follow behind Bucky, carrying your own bag of clothes while he carries his own and Steves, the elevator ride uncomfortably silent as Steve gets the key to the room. Leaving you alone with Bucky as you both stand at the door to the room. Not a single word to be spoken.

You look up at him, his eyes focused on the screen of his phone as his thumb scrolls along the device, little images moving through his blue eyes tells you he’s scrolling through someone's Instagram profile. You look down at his left hand, his metal thumb hooked into the pocket of his jeans as he stands there, staring at his phone, a pissed look still visible on his face.

Then you hear footsteps, causing both of you to turn your head to also pissed off Steve Rogers, the room key between his index and middle finger.

“A little quiet. Are you guys suddenly mortal enemies?” He jokes, scanning the key on the hotel door before holding the door open for you and Bucky.

“Why talk to her when she doesn’t even listen?” Bucky asks, rhetorically. Then he throws the bags of clothes down, crouching over to take out some clothes. “Who wants to shower first?”

“Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Let her shower first. She was wearing that thick suit. I'm sure enough she smells like shit.” Steve crouches next to Bucky, also grabbing his clothes.

You open the door to the bedroom, taking one step in before stopping and looking down at the two best friends. “Hey, who’s sleeping where?”

“There’s two beds. You get one bed, we share the other-”

“There’s only one bed.” You interrupt Steve, his eyebrows squinting in confusion. “There should be two, are you sure?”

“Well unless I’m blind or forgot how to count, yes, I’m sure.” He stands up with Bucky, both of them looking into the room. One king sized bed.

“Well shit. I’ll go down to the office.” Bucky tells you both, then leaves without another word.

“If they can’t get a two bedroom for us then you and Bucky take the bed. The couch will be too small for you both.” You offer.

“The bed will be uncomfortable for you.”

“I’ve slept on the floors.”

“Correction. You’ve tried to sleep on the floors.” He looks down at you, your arms crossing over your stomach in a sort of challenge. “Fine. We can take the bed if he can’t find another room.” He sighs, walking back over to his bags on the floor. “Go ahead and start your shower though.” He groans as he throws himself onto the couch and stretches as you head to the bathroom, setting the water warm before getting undressed and stepping into the shower. The water falling mutes the sound of Bucky coming back in. You couldn’t understand a word he said, but he sounded annoyed. So you assume there isn’t another room.

When you’re done, you step out. The smell of your lavender shampoo and bodywash filling the air as you wrap a towel around your hair and dry your body before dressing into your short Captain America pyjamas and your thin black top with a red star on the chest, not wanting to throw on a bra or panties, you step out and put the two back in your bag on the floor, missing the looks that Bucky and Steve give you, also missing the look and nod they give each other.

“Hey, Y/N.” You look up to Steve's voice. “I don’t want to report your actions.” He stands from the couch and walks over to you until you have to bend your neck to look up at him. “I don’t like you getting in trouble for disobeying simple orders. But you have to be punished in some way.”

“Please don’t report it…” You beg a little, Bucky moving up behind Steve as they stand shoulder to shoulder. “Another report and I’m back to being a desk agent.” You whine a little.

“Which would really suck, wouldn’t it?” Bucky's eyes stare straight into yours, some hidden darkness concealed behind his pupil, you nod urgently.

“Then how should you learn your lesson?” Steve takes another step closer, his hand reaching up to push some hair behind your ear. “You have to learn somehow.”

“You need to be punished, Y/N.” Bucky whispers harshly, his left hand resting on your waist suddenly as your hands move to your stomach, the entire interaction making you nervous as you start to pick at your skin.

“I feel like you’re both implying the same thing right now…” Your voice is quiet, any louder and it would crack. “But I uh… Want conformation on what exactly-”

“I think the three of us should all share the bed, what do you think?”

You’re silent for a moment.

Your jaw clenching shut as his words shock you slightly, emitting a chuckle from Steve's throat. “What’s wrong baby, cat got your tongue?” You practically feel your eyes enlarge at his nickname.

Baby…

“Steve I don’t-”

“Enough talking. Get on the bed.” Bucky demands, his eyes leaving no room for argument as Steve begins walking you backwards until the back of your knees find the bed, Bucky gently pushing you to sit down before they both begin removing their shirts, and you scoot back a little. Debating whether or not you want this, your thighs clamped shut.

“Top or bottom?” Steve asks Bucky, nodding towards him.

“Top. You get the bottom.” He tells him, undoing his pants in front of you as Bucky already has his unzipped and unbuttoned, the tent in his boxers obvious as he crawls onto the bed, pulling you into his lap, facing away from him and you watch Steve get onto the bed. Sitting on his knees in front of you.

“Open up.” He tells you, gently slapping the side of your thigh before reaching forward and hooking his fingers through your shorts, quickly pulling them off. You immediately squeeze your thighs tighter. Wishing you could lock them shut. You try to speak, but your lips are locked in place of your thighs. “I said open the fuck up.” He demands this time, his large hands placed on both thighs, gripping your flesh carefully.

“Steve I don’t want-” Your voice cracks as he shuts you up with his own words.

“Shut up.” He grumbles, then forces your thighs open, a gasp coming from your lips as you feel the cold air against your heat. “Such a pretty pussy…”

He leans down, and only then do you realise Bucky has his arms around your stomach, keeping you still as he leans forward, kissing and biting the skin on your neck.

You moan, the feeling of Steve's beard against your sensitive flesh making your eyes roll as his tongue and teeth work diligently, two of his fingers eventually finding their way inside of you in place of his tongue when he begins to thrust his digits against your walls.

“Good girl…” Bucky whispers into your ear, biting your lobe before resuming his marks on your throat, one of his hands snaking down to find your clit, and he begins to rub circles around the bud, your eyes only enlarging.

You want to say something. To push them away. But you feel numb, like their touch was a drug that paralyzed you from head to toe, apart from the rocking of your hips as you seek more of Steve's touch, the feelings of both of their touch sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“S-Steve…” You moan, his face still buried in your cunt as he eats you out, his fingers curling to massage your g-spot, a hum from his throat sending vibrations through your body. “Bucky…” You whimper, and Barnes’ teeth bite your skin harder, his fingers massaging your clit. The feelings driving you crazy… “Feels… so good…” You whisper, trying not to moan too loudly.

“Come for us baby… Let Steve taste your sweet pussy…” Bucky's voice soothes your thoughts as he brings his two fingers up, sticking them between your lips as he lets you purse your lips around his digits, tasting yourself on his skin was just another reason to throw your head back against his shoulder, his lips moving down to bite your neck as you come, Steves hands gripping your thighs tighter as he feels your gummy walls clench around his own fingers, your juices coating his beard as he lets you ride out your orgasm.

“Good fucking girl…” Steve groans, sitting back up on his knees, keeping your legs apart as he slaps your pussy, drawing another moan from your lips before you feel Bucky's hands move between your bodies, then his dick is against your ass, making your back involuntarily arch away, but then your eyes land on Steve's cock, which was also removed from his boxers while you were looking away.

Boy did that serum do something for him. His size was unrealistic. There was no way he would be able to fit that thing inside of you. Ever.

“Look at her. Panting like a fucking dog and we haven’t even fucked her yet.” You feel Bucky's hand come up and close your mouth, his fingers resting under your jaw before he presses a kiss to your cheek. “So fucking hot…” He mumbles, then he grips your waist, pulling you back as he leans back. You were sure enough he was just as big as Steve. “You ready?” He asks, lifting you slightly to position you over his cock, Steve staring with a shit eating grin.

You don’t even answer, but he slowly lowers you down, the intrusion making you bite your lip, your eyes rolling in pleasure as Steve situates himself between your legs, leaning forward to press kisses to your throat, his thumb rubbing your clit as the feeling becomes unbearable. You’ve never done anything like this before.

Fuck.

You’ve never done anything.

“Take a deep breath…” Steve tells you. “This might hurt…” He warns, attempting to push two of his fingers inside of you, but of course, they don’t fit. Bucky’s cock already stretching you to the limit. “Fuck… So tight.” He groans, then forces the two fingers inside of you, making your hips jerk, a yelp coming from your lips which is quickly silenced by Bucky’s hand covering your throat as Steves fingers slowly move in and out of you, eventually adding a third finger as he stretches you open, Bucky’s soft lips on your neck distracting you as Steve moves closer, his free hand moving to stroke his shaft.

“Breathe for me baby…” He whispers again, this time his breath fanning over your skin as he positions himself between your legs, his hand between your bodies as he aligns the tip of his dick with your filled centre. “Just breathe…” He tells you one more time, then he slowly pushes forward, barely getting in the tip before the mix of a moan and scream come muffled behind Bucky’s palm, but Steve doesn’t stop. He keeps pushing. And he pushes until he can’t anymore.

“Told you she could fit us both.” Bucky mumbles, and Steve begins to slowly move. Your sounds are still muffled by the hand over your mouth, which quickly turns from painful moans to pleasurable crying. “And she’s behaving so well…” He groans, the feeling of Steve's cock moving against his driving him crazy.

Steve moves faster, his hands squeezing your thighs, and their groans indicate they’re both holding back. Steve's rough touch, and Bucky’s biting and kissing your skin as your moans fill the room. Loud enough you’re surprised no one else could hear.

“So fucking perfect…”

“Such a perfect little pussy…”

“Love the little sounds she makes…”

“Isn’t she perfect?”

All fall on your deft ears, your brain ringing, your eyes trying to close as your energy leaves your body. You couldn’t think about anything.

The lips of Bucky on your skin and the feeling of Stevies cock moving inside of you, along with the feeling of Bucky’s cock being right beside his was enough to make your pupils turn your eyes black, the moans stopping and your body convulsing under Steve and above Bucky as you’re about to come again. It was the fifth time this night, or maybe sixth? You didn’t know anymore, you’d lost track of them after the second.

When they are done, Steve pulls out first, followed by Bucky, both of them watching as a string of cum drops from your stretched hole, Steve's fingers moving to gently push it back inside of you before cleaning his fingers with your lips.

“You did so good…” He tells you, but you hardly hear it as your body struggles to stay awake.

“She did amazing…” Bucky tells him from behind as his fingers begin to gently massage your thighs. “So good we don’t have to report her…”

“You look tired…” Steve gently pushes some of the mess of your hair behind your ear. An act that was innocent before but now felt like it would always be hidden behind some dark intent. “Too bad we aren’t done…”

[haflacky]

Sam and Bucky in vw beetlе!

Full on my patreon

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hi, could I get a male matchup please :)? Preferably for the fandoms of Marvel and Supernatural🫶🏼

I’m 20 years old, she/her pronouns and bi curious with a tendency for men.

For physical attributes: I’m 5’0, tan olive skin, with long black hair and dark brown eyes. Erhnicity is Turkish if it helps :) I also have some freckles over my cheeks and nose. I’m pretty small sized but you can tell that I work out.

I’m very outgoing and I love meeting new people. In the beginning I have a barricade around me but I’m still very warm and welcoming and open, just a little careful with a rougher exterior. Once you get to know me that drops and I show all my love and honesty. My personality type is an ENTJ. I can get really possessive over the people I love and I’m never scared of defending them.

For fun I like to do professional wrestling, painting landscapes, walking my dog, reading, occasionally writing and occasional mediocre horse riding lol.

Thank you so much in advance!

Hi! I'm sorry this got out so late!

I hope you love your matchups nonetheless!

Romantic Matchups; Marvel and Supernatural

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

Marvel;

Bucky Barnes -

You met Bucky at a local small park in New York City when you were walking your dog.

Suddenly, as you were playing fetch with your pup, they just started running.

You freaked out, chasing after your dog, calling their name, but they were heading straight towards a... White cat on a leash, being walked by a very handsome guy.

Your dog stops at the cat, bouncing excitedly on its furry legs, seemingly wanting to play with the cat who doesn't seem to even care.

"Sorry about them." You began, a bit out of breath, "I hope I didn't scare your cat."

Bucky was intrigued - not only by you but also by the fact that Alpine was padding closer to your dog; curious.

At first, Bucky is reserved, trying to gauge if you’re genuine or just another fleeting stranger. But your warm demeanor and subtle cautiousness resonate with him. He knows what it’s like to keep people at arm’s length.

It seemed like Alpine and your dog really liked each other and you both agreed to exchange numbers to set up another meeting for the two furballs to meet and play again.

You and Bucky meet up at the park with your pets, allowing them to get to know each other and play, all while you and Bucky get to know each other as well.

When you say that you like to professionally wrestle, Bucky challenges you.

He doesn't expect to be the one to be pinned on the mat at the nearby gym.

He’s both impressed and slightly embarrassed.

Late-night hangouts consist of you showing him how to paint landscapes. He’s shockingly good at it once he loosens up, and you start exchanging art pieces as gifts.

Maybe being such life-long friends with Steve had rubbed off some art skills on him...

Once he trusts you, he confides in you about his past during one of your quieter evenings, and the way you listen without judgment solidifies the bond between you.

Bucky realizes he has feelings for you when he notices how possessive you are about your friends. The way you fiercely defend the people you love strikes a chord in his protective nature.

Your ability to see beauty in the little things makes him want to notice those things too - starting with you.

You catch feelings for Bucky when he brings Alpine to your place one day. Seeing this stoic man doting over a cat and quietly grinning as you interact with her makes your heart skip.

The tension between you builds slowly, with lingering looks and moments where your hands brush. Neither of you acknowledges it outright at first, but the chemistry is there and is undeniable.

Bucky kisses you for the first time after you paint a mini portrait of Alpine for him. He’s so moved by the thoughtfulness that he just leans in.

It’s soft, and a little tentative, but leaves you both smiling like idiots.

He helps you with your wrestling practice, standing in as your sparring partner when you need one. It becomes a fun (and very flirty) competition.

Bucky loves cuddling. When he’s had a rough day, he’ll quietly lay his head on your lap while you read to him. Your fingers in his hair are his safe haven.

Movie nights become a staple. Bucky picks old classics to share with you, and you introduce him to all your favorite modern films. He critiques the choreography, much to your amusement.

Bucky would always walk you home or pick you up after late wrestling practices, insisting it’s for your safety. Though, he knows that you can take care of yourself, he still worries, since a lot of people still don't like or trust him since he was The Winter Soldier and all.

If anyone disrespects you, his Winter Soldier glare makes an appearance, sending shivers down spines. You don’t need him to fight your battles, but it’s nice to know he’s got your back.

He secretly commissions a custom saddle for your horse riding lessons as a surprise gift.

You write little notes of encouragement and slip them into his jacket pockets. He finds them at random and keeps every single one.

~~~

Supernatural;

Sam Winchester -

You first met Sam in a diner during one of his hunts with his brother. You were there after a long day of horseback riding, and he noticed that you were having trouble carrying both your plate of food, phone, and a book.

He steps in to help, and the two of you strike up a conversation. You joke about his enormous salad order compared to your pile of fries, and it earns a rare laugh from him.

Sam initially thinks you’re just a friendly local, but when you casually drop some trivia about supernatural lore, he’s intrigued.

When you end up helping him on the case, he’s impressed by your courage and intellect.

You start trading books after finding out about each other’s love for reading. Sam introduces you to ancient lore, and you hand him your favorite modern novels.

He loves taking your dog for walks with you. He’s a natural with animals, and you love seeing him smile when your dog does something goofy.

Sam appreciates your protective nature. When someone rudely interrupts one of your conversations, you calmly but firmly put them in their place. He quietly admires your fire.

You teach him how to paint. He’s terrible at it but tries his best just to spend time with you.

Sam realizes his feelings when you stay up late to patch him up after a hunt. Your gentle care and concern make his chest ache in the best way.

You start to fall for Sam when you see his kindness in action. Whether it’s helping someone on a case or just listening to your worries, his compassion feels endless.

The way he looks at you when you talk about your passions - eyes soft, a small smile tugging at his lips - makes it obvious he’s smitten.

The feelings become undeniable during a quiet moment at the bunker. You’re both reading in the library, and the way his hand lingers over yours when passing a book sends shivers through you.

The first kiss happens in the bunker’s library after a late-night conversation about life and loss. It’s tender and unhurried, Sam’s hands cradling your face like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Sam loves cuddling. He’s the big spoon, wrapping his arms around you protectively. You feel like nothing could hurt you when he’s holding you.

And you love to cuddle him right back.

Sam takes an active interest in your hobbies, even attempting horse riding despite his awkwardness. He’ll do anything to make you smile.

If you’re stressed, he’ll find a peaceful spot in nature to take you for a long walk.

He secretly writes in his journal about how much you mean to him. It’s his way of processing emotions he can’t always vocalize.

You always make sure he takes care of himself, whether it’s forcing him to eat after a long hunt or sneaking in moments of rest.

When he’s overwhelmed, you remind him of all the good he’s done and how much he’s loved.

And don't worry, even though almost all of Sam's previous partners died horrifically, you never did :)

~~~

[mads-weasley]

Legacy Pt. 7: Broken Promises

tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: HI!!! It's been soooo long since I added to this series...and I mean like a YEAR long. Sorry to all my wonderful followers who were waiting on this update. Life got crazy and this series got pushed to the bottom of the barrel, but the good news is... LEGACY IS BACK, BABY!! And as always, I don't own any characters except (y/n). Enjoy!

Summary: While (y/n) was recuperating at Sharon's, Bucky makes a decision and breaks a promise he made to her, putting strain on their newly labeled relationship.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, sibling death, car accidents (not graphic), drunk drivers, just sad

When we finally got to Sharon's building, Bucky helped guide me through her art gallery. As usual, he and Sam were bickering about the paintings that filled her showroom, but I tuned them out. Bucky's arm around my frame was the only thing keeping me from falling over right there. I heard Sharon quickly cut them off.

"Come on. You guys need to change. I'm hosting clients in an hour."

"Alright, alright," Bucky starts. "Where can I take (y/n)?"

She gestures to follow her with a jerk of her head. "This way."

Following her into a nearby room, my eyes widen at the size of it and what it contains. There are multiple couches, a full bar, and a rack full of formal clothes; designer, I assume. Buck seems to be surprised too but soon breaks out of his stupor, guiding me to lie down on the couch. Even though my headache is very slowly going away, I still feel like I could pass out if I didn't get to sleep soon. 

Gently, he crouched down in front of me.

"How're ya feeling, doll?"

"I'm okay, just super tired. At least my headache is going away, though." I say softly.

He starts to lightly rub my hand that rested on my thigh. "Good. Get some rest, okay? I'll come get you when we have a lead."

"Okay. Thanks, boomer."

The laugh that escaped him made my heart flutter. After a few seconds, he got up and grabbed a blanket and pillow from another one of the couches before returning and placing it behind my head. Once I was comfortable, he draped the soft blanket over my body. As I started to snuggle into it with closed eyes, a soft smile grew on Bucky's face. 

~

Bucky silently watched (y/n) start to doze off, and he was so thankful that he had her in his life. Even though she felt terrible, she accompanied him to Selby's just to make sure he was okay. No one had put him first for as long as he could remember. At one point he thought Steve would have always done so, but even he abandoned him in the end. Sharon's piercing voice broke him from his thoughts.

"Bucky. You need to get dressed." She said, gesturing to the coat rack Sam had gotten his outfit from.

He nodded, looking back at (y/n). Although he didn't want to leave her, he knew they needed to follow this lead if they were going to stop the flag smashers. Leaning down and kissing her on the forehead, he whispered something to her. She shifted positions and whispered something back, but it was really just a sleepy slur of words. Bucky felt his heart melt as Sharon once again called out to him.

Frustrated, he crossed the room looking through the rack. There were some very, well, interesting outfits on it, but he decided to stick with a basic black suit. Slipping it on, Sharon continued to talk.

"So what happened to (y/n)?"

He sighed, "The flag smashers. That's what happened."

Raising an eyebrow, she asked the question Bucky had been waiting on. "When did you two start...whatever you've got going?"

"Few days ago." He says before walking away to sit on the couch next to the one (y/n) was laying on. 

Luckily for him, Sharon started talking to Sam, giving him a break from her questioning. Their conversation soon led to her explaining that she had a way to find Wilfred Nagel, the doctor who Selby had given up. He too, worked to the Power Broker that neither Sam or Bucky knew much about. 

Soon after, Sharon's guests arrived and they were led out into the "client showing" she was hosting, which was more like a rave. The music began to blare and Bucky hoped that (y/n) was still asleep, unbothered by the electronic sounds. He was reminded of Zemo's existence when he saw him pumping his fist at his side to the beat of the music next to the bar. With a scoff, Bucky turned away from the unique sight when Sharon tapped him and Sam.

"Hey, guys. I found him."

As they began to follow her, his promise to (y/n) that he would come to get her if they had a lead, floated in his head. Even though he did promise her, he knew she needed the rest. Things had been non-stop for her, and with her injuries, she really should be on bed rest if not in the hospital. Even though he knew she would be mad when she woke, he decided to leave her be on Sharon's couch.

Peeking her eyes open, (y/n) was met with Bucky's smiling face before her, shaking her gently.

"Time to get up, doll. We've got a lead."

(Y/n) blearily looked around her, noticing she was still on the couch in Sharon's apartment. The main difference, though, was that daylight shone through the curtains, illuminating the once-dark room.

"Buck, what time is it?"

He sighed, knowing exactly where this was going. "It's morning. I know you needed it, so I let you sleep."

"Wait," she paused, a look of betrayal on her face. "Did you follow a lead without me?"

"(Y/n), sweetheart, liste-" he started, but was cut off.

"Don't "sweetheart" me, James. You told me you'd come to get me if you found out anything."

Sitting up abruptly, her hand shot to her temple, wincing at the sudden movement. Instinctively, Bucky lurched forward towards her, offering his help, only to have it batted away.

"I'm fine. Let's just go."

Before he could protest, she got up and started walking out of the room. Bucky had to force his eyes away from the way her hips swayed in the dress she still wore. Sighing, he got up off the couch and followed after her.

"You might want to change into something more comfortable!"

"Danya Madani. She's a refugee, yeah," Sam spoke, on the phone with Joaquin. "Okay. Call me if you get a hit. Thanks, Torres."

He plopped into the plane seat with a sigh. (Y/n) could tell all of this was starting to weigh on him.

"You okay?" She asked, eyeing Sam from where she sat, refusing to look where Bucky sat cleaning his arm.

Sam turned his gaze to the ceiling. "Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through."

"Yeah," the woman whispered, thinking about what they all went through on the run.

Bucky and Sam continued the conversation, but (y/n) couldn't stop a particularly hard memory from resurfacing.

Germany, 2018

"How much?" (Y/n) asks in German, holding an apple at a local market. The bright fruits and smells of freshly baked bread brought her a sense of home she hadn't felt for a while. Her basket was full as she made her way back to her, Sam, and Steve's temporary apartment. After traveling around Europe, they finally came back to Germany for a short stint.

Unlocking the door, she threw her keys on the kitchen island before placing the basket on the counter and placing its contents in the cabinets.

"I got a good deal on some oranges. Sam, I know how much you love to make fresh squee-"

"(Y/n)," Steve interrupted softly, approaching her slowly. She was no telepath, but she could tell something was majorly wrong by his tone alone.

Tears involuntarily filled her eyes in anticipation. "What is it?"

"It's your sister, Sophia," he whispered, holding your arm gently. "She was in an accident. She didn't make it, (y/n). I'm so sorry."

She heard his words but they wouldn't register in her mind. Sophia? Accident? Didn't make it?

"What?" The woman croaked, feeling her heart clench as the words began to process in her mind.

"Sam got a call from a friend. She was hit by a drunk driver. It was instant."

Looking over his shoulder, she noticed sam for the first time. He was leaning against the doorway with a somber and sorrow-filled expression.

"She can't be gone," she paused, shaking her head. "She's supposed to graduate next month."

Just as the first sob escaped her lips, Steve pulled her into his arms, taking all her weight when her legs failed to hold her up.

"I'm so sorry, (y/n/n). I'm so sorry."

Sam was able to find out the date of Sophia's funeral, so they could at least watch from a distance. Although it was a hassle to get an inconspicuous flight back to the states, they were more than willing to do it for (y/n).

When the time came, the trio watched from afar with heavy hearts as the 18-year-old Sophia (y/l/n) was buried, her sister unable to grieve with the rest of their family. Being so close to her loved ones, (y/n) was tempted to run to them, pull them into a loving embrace, and talk about all the good times they had with their beloved Soph.

As soon as the service was over, Sam and Steve went to the car, leaving her to grieve alone. Even though she felt like crying and screaming at the world for taking her sister from her, all that poured out of her was a single tear.

(Y/n) was thankfully pulled from her memory when Bucky gently rubbed her knee, leaning forward in his chair.

"You alright, doll?"

Blinking, she realized a tear had leaked from her eye. She wiped it away quickly, clearing her throat. "Yeah. Just thinking."

He moved his hand to hold hers gently. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

Remembering she was upset at him, her emotions hardened and she pulled her hand from his. "Just how you lied to me, James."

"Please, (y/n/n)," he sighed "When will you believe me when I say I'm sorry?"

"When you include me, no matter what is happening, and regardless of how we feel about each other."

With a nod and a soft, "yeah," he leaned back into his chair just as Sam's phone began to vibrate.

(Y/n) was lucky she changed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt before they left, or she was sure he'd be able to see goosebumps that littered her skin from his touch.

"They found Madani," Sam announced mournfully. "Dead. She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea."

An all too familiar accent made an appearance, "I have a place we can go. I, for one, am looking forward to coming face-to-face with Karli."

(Y/n) scoffed, recalling the damage Karli had done to her when they'd first met. The thought seemed to awaken the deep ache in her bones, especially her arm, in which she had not been following the doctor's orders and wearing a sling.

Sensing this, Bucky leaned forward again. "How're you feeling? Need any pain meds?"

Although she could've used some, the (y/h/c) shook her head. "I'm good."

She could tell he didn't fully believe her but didn't push the subject either.

"Ozenik," Zemo called. "We're changing the course."

Tag List:

@confusednerd09 @ahahafudge @bluemoon-icecream @lunamadhatter99 @thatfangirl42 @fionanovasleftnut-fanficreq @friendly-letters @youcanstandundermyamberella @caritobbg @tylard-blog1 @missstef23 @hallecarey1 @harrietbaudelaire @winterberryfox @treblebeth @just-levyy @cc13723things @parisparker269

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

[imtaashu]

Only Him ... ♥️😍😻💕😘🥹🥰

Blessing your day / night 🫶🏻🫂

[floydsglasses]

Why is he so me like I make those faces almost everyday am I a grumpy old man in the shape of a teenage girl????

"The incredibly annoying guy in front of me with the staring problem".

[randommultifandomrants]

Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

that reality check hitting after reading smut

[thatboisus]

me logging onto tumblr after consuming a new piece of media

[cruel-seduction]

It’s like a full-blown addiction, but instead of drugs or booze, it’s this fictional guy who’s got her wrapped around his finger. She knows it’s fucked up—knows she’s out here daydreaming about someone who’s not even real—but who cares? This guy? He’s everything. He’s charming in the worst ways, flawed in every possible sense, but there’s just something about him that has her hooked. He doesn’t even know she exists, but she’s ready to fight anyone who says a word against him. Seriously, she’ll defend his honor like it’s a fucking life-or-death mission.

He’s a goddamn trainwreck, but he’s her trainwreck. She’ll put up with all his baggage, his emotional scars, his dark sides, because somehow, that brokenness makes him feel more real to her than any real guy could. He’s messed up, but she’ll fix him in her head every single time. Maybe it’s that thrill of knowing he’s dangerous and untouchable that makes him even more irresistible. He might break her heart in a hundred ways, but it’s the kind of heartbreak that makes her feel alive, even if it hurts like hell.

And it’s never gonna happen, right? She knows that. He’s not gonna waltz into her life and sweep her off her feet. But it doesn’t matter. Because she gets to have him on her terms—no messy reality, no awkward first dates, no risking her heart for real. He’s always there when she needs him, in that perfect little bubble of fantasy she’s built for herself. And maybe she’s a little crazy for it, but at least with him, she’s never disappointed. Every time she replays his scenes, reads the fanfics, imagines their future together—it's like a high she can never quite shake. She knows it's all just a mindfuck, but she’s never felt more alive.

[mqstermindswift]

video games - send me a fandom,gender preference and 3 - 6 facts about you and I'll ship you with a character

fandom: marvel

no gender preference!!

i'm a very clingy person

i'm a picky eater unfortunately :(

i'm really into baking and cooking!!

i prefer to stay inside the go out

thank you sm ml <33

hii,tysm for taking time to send me.this ask!!

I ship you with...

bucky barnes!!!

he'd absolutely adore your clinginess!he would love having you attached to him and I feel like he'd be attached to you too,he might not seem like it but I feel like he'd be so emotional/sweet when he's with you

he wouldn't be that picky so I feel like you'd always eat whatever you like

you'd definitely would stay at home many nights,baking sweets,cooking your or his favorite foods,he wouldn't be that much of a good cook but he'd try,you would probably end up doing most of the work but that's fine because the process would be so cute,you'd be throwing flour at each other,tasting the mix,etc.

idk if you like this or if this is accurate,I've honestly read ao many fics about bucky and this is how I genuinely think he'd be like

please correct me of anything's wrong ro if you don't like who I shipped you with and want me to re-do it <33

[httpscomexe]

Just came across your give me inspiration post and I’ve come to deliver 🫡

How about Bucky or Logan x naive reader? Well not really naive but sort of? Reader keeps making excuses for him and keeps brushing of the concerning things he does. Ex he keeps tabs on her he has to know where she is at all times or else he starts to FREAK out. He sabotages readers work or projects so that she will come to him for help. He even intrudes on her time with friends when reader says she’s going out he starts pouting and saying “I wish I had something to do. You should let me go with you. It will be fun they won’t mind”. Even their work place co workers mention it to reader but she just brushes it off saying “ oh he’s just a friend” or “he’s just lonely sometimes”. Basically he’s obsessed with reader and wants to be the only thing she thinks about and he will go to extreme measures to have her no MATTER what.

Hopefully that was good 🤷‍♀️ if it’s not feel free to ignore it lol it’s feels good to be back. I missed you 🫶

-love , S 💋

Barnes & Noble

Summary: Nothing goes right in your shitty life. Work, school, everything. It’s all shit. Until a worried friend finally looks out for you, and you have the best day you’ve had in probably years.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Professor!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Language, suicide, drugs, wounds, drinking, underage drinking, anxiety, panic, shit boss, shit mom, all that good stuff,  (Individual warnings per chapter)

Word Count: 3408 (Find all parts here) Pt.2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

AN: This is almost completely different from what you asked for, but to be fair, I don't plan what I write, I just let my brain and my fingers move however they feel like and if I process that something is bad, I delete it and refresh for a minute. But I think I'm back. And this will probably have three parts.

Lolly: Guess who’s throwing a party this weekend!

You: I’m assuming Trent?

Lolly: Ew no, I would not be excited.

You: You?

Lolly: Yea! And you’re invited!

You smile at the rectangle of light in your hands, the only source of light in the room as a matter of fact. Your eyes are tired, you had been studying all day and just when you were about to sleep, your phone buzzed. Of course, considering your addiction to the device, you immediately picked it up, losing every second of progress you had made earlier trying to actually fall asleep. Fucking insomnia. You either went to sleep quickly and woke up every hour, or you didn’t sleep until an hour before you needed to be up for class. If your higher dosage didn’t start to work on sleeping pills, you seriously considered chloroform as a personal prescription.

You weren’t exactly a party person, apart from the drinks. The thought of being in a house full of three hundred people dancing and drinking, sweating all night while fucking whereever because their drunken mind couldn’t think straight was seriously making your stomach fold in disgust. What was even the point in parties anyways? To lose your virginity and figure out who the dad is for the next 5 years and you can’t afford a test because now you have to take care of a baby? Sounded like prison, just being held in a cell for 18 years or until you decide to kick the bucket yourself, deciding debt was more depressing than your lifestyle.

To be fair, you weren’t raised in the best household. Your mom tried to kick you out at 16, which you instead ran away, thinking she hated you but really she just didn’t want you to walk in on her hanging halfway off the bed with an empty bottle of pills hanging loose from her hand. And your dad? Sometimes you think you’re a lab experiment. Mom never brought him up,and when you brought him up, you’d be sent to your room like it was a cage and you failed your test. You honestly got lucky with the amount of maturity your harder teenage life gave you. Now you’re either working, studying, going to class, or getting the five hours, and what feels like thirty minutes of sleep, of course, only every other day. Some days, you don't get to sleep at all.

So of course you didn’t want to go to your best friend Lolly’s party. Whenever you said you were busy she’d just tell you to take a sick day off, but obviously, that wasn’t a thing that would ever be able to happen. You think your mom is the worst? Wait until you hear about your boss…

Morning

“Keep it going! It’s just a scratch!” She shouted basically in your face, her spit from her smoke corroded teeth would probably be on the tip of your nose if you had turned your head just barely to the right. The ‘scratch’ on your arm bleeding, leaking down between the now goosebumps on your skin and a few drops dripping down onto the broken glass on the greasy tile floor. Some asshole wasn’t happy about how few chocolate chips were in their cookie, you wish you weren’t joking. But of course, the customer is always right, even if it means they get to throw a broken piece of glass at you, cutting your bicep. “I don’t even know why I bothered hiring you, you ain’t even a pretty face.” She scoffs as she walks away, half her ass sticking out from her way to small pants. You half expected her button to fly out and land in someone's drink. She’d probably broken about 80 different codes by now with the way she talked to you. But of course, you’re way too patient with people, unlike Lolly, who quit the job as soon as she saw the morning shift manager, literally set her hat and apron down on the counter and walked out. You wish you had walked out with her, as she now works at a pet store, grooming dogs while you bleed all over the floor. It was five in the damned morning, you didn’t need this shit. But here you were, scrubbing the floor of glass, spilt Fanta, and blood, which was dripping onto the floor still, creating more of a mess.

Afternoon

From five to twelve. That’s how long you had to work. Every. Single. Day. Then you have thirty minutes to get to your first class. You have to switch clothes in the bathroom at work, shove it in your bag, run out onto the streets of New York, jog down Grey Street, cross Midway Drive, cut through the park at the centre of the city, hoping to fuck there isnt some event happening that keeps you from going around, then you have to go down into the subway, walk through the crowd of people talking loudly on their phones, all sweating and holding briefcases, so you try your hardest to avoid their bodies, reminded of the gash on your bicep when a musty street performer covered in silver paint rubs against you, coating your skin in a not so shiny and sort of disgustingly sticky paint. You hold back the gag you wanted to release onto about 15 people, and you push through the rest, almost twisting your ankle halfway up the stairs, but you of course power through it, and look at your watch. You didn’t have time to go to your dorm and clean up, but fuck. You look at your reflection in the window of a Starbucks, you didn’t even realise you had started crying, but your mascara running down your cheeks just like the blood had run down your arm, which stopped at some point and dried up with the streak of paint, made you look an absolute mess. Like you just walked in on your husband cheating on you with your sister. You just gag at your reflection, then the walking symbol shows up, and you cross the street, it was rush hour, so you had two choices. Go to your room, and clean up, be about ten minutes late, or go to class and look like shit in front of everyone. It was a split-second decision. But you didn’t want to look like shit. Honestly, you didn’t even want to go to class, so missing a few minutes wouldn’t kill you. Even if it did, you wouldn’t mind.

So instead of taking a right and going to the class you so desperately needed to pass, you go left on Harper Road, and you run up some steps to your apartment, shoving the keys in the door and swinging it open before rushing to the bathroom, pulling off your white blouse - now stained red and brown from blood - and tossing it on the floor, quickly turning on your shower, and you didn’t give a flying fuck about the water bill, you were about to take your damned time under the water.

You step in once your fully unclothed, the warm running water stinging your cut but the damned shower was the only good thing going on in your life right now, so there were no complaints apart from the hiss that leaves your lips as it does hit the now inflamed wound.

About thirty minutes later

About twenty eyes land on you as soon as you walk into the classroom, which was actually just the library. Literary class for your want to be a writer, and your teacher - Professor Barnes - pauses for a moment. He looks you up and down, gives you a disappointed look, then you find an open seat, pulling out a notebook with only a few minutes left of the class, but you were about to spend the next hour or so in the library with your friends anyways. While you wrote, and studied, they had a project to work on. One that you’ve already failed twice. Once for turning it into the wrong class, and once for accidentally lighting it on fire at work when a co-worker dropped a flaming pan on it, which, of course, you were blamed for. Then just as class ends, and everyone packs to leave while you continue to write notes into your book, you feel a presence behind you. Before you can even apologise to him, you feel his large hand on your shoulder, and his voice in your ear.

“You were late again.” No shit Sherlock. “What happened this time?” He asks, moving to sit on the corner of your desk, and you put down your pencil. He asked the question as if he didn’t believe you every other time you told him your situation. You wait for the library to completely empty out before you could yell at him for being a dick, and as soon as the last student leaves, the second the door closes and leaves a whoosh of air from its weight, you don’t scream. Some unknown squeak of every emotion mixed together except for happiness and joy leaves your throat, and your newly applied mascara runs down your face, exposing your clear tears to be mixed with the black makeup, streaks of it running down your cheeks, causing you to lean forward, face in your hands as you start to sob. The sound of a heavy sigh is the only thing in the room apart from your absolutely embarrassing breakdown. “I gave you a hundred on the assignment for the day.” What? That makes you look up, once again looking like a wife just cheated on, only this time your false husband cheated with your own mother.

“W-What? I-I don’t even k-know what the assignment was…” You hear him scoff, but it wasn’t a hateful scoff, it was more of a ‘do I look like I give a fuck,’ sort of scoff.

“Look. Lolly spoke to me about how you’re doing. So I figured I’d give you a break.” That was… Weird… Why would he do that?

“But what about the assignments that go with it-?”

“Congrats, your grade just went from a D to a B. How about you go home and relax for the rest of the day instead of studying.” You’re silent for a moment. Relax? You haven’t done that since freshman year, and even then, you weren’t sure your lunch period was exactly meant for a thirty minute nap.

“Mr. Barnes- I-” You jump a little, his hand closing your textbook and he hops off the table.

“Come on, class is over, go home.” He sighs, and goes back to his desk with your textbook, scanning it and setting it on the shelf so you wouldn’t even need to bother turning it back in and most likely paying the late fee. You stand up awkwardly, grabbing your bag and only just realising you definitely twisted your ankle as you limp a little before barely catching yourself on your desk. You honestly looked pathetic, you weren’t exactly sure why he wasn’t laughing. “Are you alright there?” You hear his voice close again, and you turn to look up at him, his hand moving to the middle of your back. But momma didn’t raise any wimp.

“It hurts-” You whimper. What. The fuck. Momma would be disappointed - If she wasn’t dead - she’d probably choke you to death. That pathetic ass noise would’ve been enough to consider you a puppy ready for adoption. “I mean uh- I’m fine.” He chuckles a little dryly, his eyes widening at your horrible attempt to convince him that you were truly fine.

“Are you sure? You’re crying even more now.” Honestly, if he hadn’t pointed it out, you wouldn’t have noticed. You were so sleep deprived. So tired. Exhausted. You were genuinely ready to snap at the next person who even breathed wrong. “Are you gonna be able to walk back to your dorm?” He grabs your bag, swinging it over his shoulder before you can even answer.

“I-I’ll be alright…” You hold out your hand for your bag, but instead, his hand on your back gently pushes you forward, making you limp in pain before his arm snakes around your waist, which should’ve made you jump, but he was helping you walk.

“Well, Imma give you a ride home if that’s alright.” He pushes the button to open the automatic door, helping you walk out into the cold air which hits you in the face worse than it should with tear stained cheeks.

“I mean I can walk-”

“Doesn’t look like it.” He shrugs, walking into the teachers parking lot, dragging you towards his truck, the one you knew was his because he was the only teacher you could actually stand, so you’ve waved bye to him at the end of the day a few times before.

“Yea- I can’t.” You admit, limping along next to him.

He opens the passenger door to the truck, and he even helps you in, setting your bag on the floorboard before closing the door and rounding the vehicle, getting into the driver seat and the warm air from the vents feels amazing, everywhere except for your sleeve covered arm, which was still warm and inflamed.

“Go ahead and give me directions hun.” He asks, pulling out of his parking space. You turn on your phone, a few missed texts from Lolly that you could look at and deal with later swiped away by your thumb as you go to the maps app to get directions until you remember you live just across the street from the dorms.

“I uh… I’m in the apartment- the one with the red roof across the street from the dorms…” you mumble, but he does hear you, nodding as you set your phone down on the centre console and reach down, rubbing your shin with your palm and it hurts like shit - it's definitely more than sprained - and you were way too poor to go to the hospital to get it checked out. So a self diagnosis would be enough for now.

“So what happened? Did you fall or something?”

“I uh- twisted it going up the subway steps.” You sit back up and look out the window.

“Subway? What are you doing in the subway if you live so close to the school?”

“I have work in the mornings…”

“Sounds stressful.”

“You have… no idea…” You mumble again, looking out the windshield now, and you can practically feel his head turn to look at you, so you look back, you were of course, correct. “Sorry- I just- today has been really bad. Not as bad as like- other days, just like- the worst this month.” You shrug, trying not to just be some complaining idiot.

“No, no. It’s okay. You don’t have to apologise. If I were you, I wouldn’t even be going to class after that.” He shrugs in return, and turns back to the road, which you do too as he steps on the gas and continues.

“I just uh, I guess I’m clumsy.” You look down a little.

“I just assumed you got caught up in the rush hour crowds. You wouldn’t be the first person to be pushed around by assholes in the swarms of humans.” You chuckle a little. Swarms of humans is definitely the best way to describe it. “Lolly told me about your work, your boss sounds like a dick.” You laugh this time, throwing your head back onto the headrest behind you and you look at him, a little smile on his lips.

“Oh no, she’s the most loveable person ever-” He starts to laugh at your horribly acquainted sarcasm. “She’s the best part of my day.” You roll your eyes, looking back out the window.

“Well I heard that someone has some very mixed emotions about her. One being hatred, the other being pure infuriating anger.” You start to laugh, it honestly hurts a bit to laugh. You were so sore. It made you want to cry… again.

“Does Lolly just tell you everything about me?”

“Well I asked. You two hang out a lot, so I figured she’d be best to ask.” He shrugs, again. And he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment, finding the only empty space. Your space. “And she told me, and I quote.” He picks up his phone, opening a texting screen. “She needs a break. She has been working under this yellow bag of walrus shit for the last two years without a single break for her own health and I am worried about her. Maybe you could convince her to take a break. I would probably kiss you if you could.” He sets the phone back down. “But we're going to disregard that last part because she’s my student, and I’m positive she was drunk.” You grit your teeth. It was definitely Lolly. Because you do unfortunately remember calling your boss a yellow bag of walrus shit.

“Yep. But I unfortunately cannot take a break.”

“Well, I’m not exactly a doctor, but I’d say your ankle is pretty messed up.”

“Well-”

“And I looked into it- You will get paid in your time off. She cannot fire you if you’re injured with a doctor or nurse note.”

“Well-”

“And I occasionally take over for the school nurse, so guess who wrote you a doctor note for your fucked up ankle?” You don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say. “So. Grab your bag and head up to your room, and promise me you’ll relax and take care of yourself for a day?” Why was he even doing this? He didn’t pay attention to you before. You were always just another student and now he’s basically forging a document to give you a break? It just didn’t seem real.

“Okay…” You whisper, grabbing your back and opening the door as you step out back into the cold, and head straight to your room, which was in clear view from the spot he was in, so he sits in his truck, waiting for you to get inside before pulling away as he stays parked. But just as you set your hand on the doorknob…

“There you are!” Your neighbour. Of course, your fucking neighbour has to add to your most wonderful day. “Your dog won’t stop barking! She’s been yip yap and yip yap all day! I’m going to call animal control!” You don’t even own a fucking dog.

“Ma’am I-”

“You forgot your phone.” His voice makes you want to writhe out of your fucking skin. You turn around to see you professor holding your phone out, which you take slowly as he turns towards the lady. “Is everything alright ma’am?” You want to laugh. You and your exhaustion work together their absolute fucking hardest as you try so hard not to laugh at her words.

“Oh of course darlin, everything is fine. Just talkin to my lovely neighbour.” From the mean, stern, gritty yelling voice that you’ve grown used to, to a suddenly sweet old lady that sounds as if she takes care of butterflies and builds them new homes. You cover your mouth, genuinely struggling not to laugh, and you see the corner of her eye twitch.

“I thought I heard some yelling.” Barnes gently wraps his arm around your shoulder, and you take a deep breath, some confusion now etched into your features.

“Just some harmless bickering, nothing too much.” She looks away from Barnes, and looks down at you. “Have a nice day darling.” You can almost feel how hard her fucking teeth are clenched, and you give her a little smile. Apparently, she wasn’t willing to embarrass herself in front of handsome young men- er- your professor.

“Your neighbour is a dick too. Maybe you should get your dog something to distract it.”

“I don’t own a dog.” You both stare at each other for a moment, and you see him biting his cheek before he takes a deep breath.

“Go get some rest. I’ll see you next week in class.” He chuckles a little and stands there, watching as you half-awkwardly open your door, closing it behind you before you heard him descending the stairs, and you hear his truck roar back to life. A little relieved that you finally had someone on your side.

[haflacky]

Comforting his boyfriend

[brunchable]

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...

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.

tags: @cereal6666 @thatesqcrush @cl7ire @bighappypiels @mostlymarvelgirl

@winchestert101 @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mcira @elvenrin

@xunquish-blog @meetmeattheapt

[bethsvrse]

me staring at my ceiling after y/n does the most FLABBERGASTING thing ever