#bucky wears stockings

[middlingmay]

I've put it off for far too long. Bucky Egan is getting put in stockings and his world upended by Gale Cleven. Tonight.

Here's a snippet!

“Alright then. Take me upstairs.” John obeyed the one and only command he expected Gale to utter tonight. They had an equal amount of give and take when it came to sex. They both liked being in charge and giving it up depending on their mood. But John knew this was going to be so far outside of Gale’s experience that he would be the one leading tonight. And he liked the thought. Loved it, even, of being the steady hand behind Gale’s pleasure. Inside their room, John flipped the lock and Gale’s brows kissed his hairline. But before Gale could ask the questions John could see brewing in that big ol’ noggin of his, he leaned against the door, hands clasped behind his back and pushed his hips out. A summons Gale had never been able to refused. And he didn’t now. Gale long, supple hands gripped his hips with a strength that always sent John into a tail spin. People saw Gale’s pretty face and often jumped to the wrong conclusions. He was wicked, sharp, fast, and strong, and more than capable of putting John down when he had to. It was a heady thrill to have that type of strength panting for you, whimpering for you. And that was John’s goal by the end of the night. Gale swept his hands round to cup and grab at John’s ass, but John laced their fingers together before he could get there. “You missed something,” he said, drawing Gale’s hands up towards his waist.

[veltana]

Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader

✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~4,2k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).

✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.

✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️

Masterlist | AO3

The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."

Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.

Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.

Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]

Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.

When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.

When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.

You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”

"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.

"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.

"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.

"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.

"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.

"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."

You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.

You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.

After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.

It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.

You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.

"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”

"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”

"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."

Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.

Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.

"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.

"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.

You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.

"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"

He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."

He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.

Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.

It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.

When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."

You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.

The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.

Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.

"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.

He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.

"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.

Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.

"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.

“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.

"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.

He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."

It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.

"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."

You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.

Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.

"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.

His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.

"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"

The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.

When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.

When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.

Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. “Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."

A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.

Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Desperate | Bucky Barnes x Reader

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

Word Count: 8.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, baby.” He didn’t look up. 

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

But he didn’t fall for it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A gentle knock yanked you out of your spiral.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But space was the last thing you wanted. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweetheart, I-”

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

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

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

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

“Is there someone better?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---Three weeks ago---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t say a word.

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

But you remained silent.

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

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

You were out cold. Completely unconscious. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

“Last time?” 

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

“Oh, the thing with me passing out?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But this time was different. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Buck, it’s okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————————

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

[buckyalpine]

18+ smutty drabble with some angst and all the fluff and possessive, fwb to lovers college Bucky, I wanted to try something, images are mine, Canva pulled through with the layout. Maybe I'll write something again with this picture, (mob Bucky? DBF Bucky?) but here's an idea:

-

"You up?"

You smirked at the text message that popped up, already swinging your legs out of bed because you knew exactly what was to follow-

"Come over"

You didn't bother changing out of the hoodie you were already lounging in, pulling on some shorts and throwing on Bucky's leather jacket before heading out. You pulled the jacket tighter around your body as you walked 2 blocks to his place, fiddling with the spare key he'd given you just because.

"Hey Steve, hey Sam" You gave Bucky's roommates/ bestfriends a wave as you let yourself in, padding past the living room, headed right to his room.

"Hey peanut" The blonde smiled before throwing a knowing smirk to Sam as soon as they heard the door click shut.

"$20 they keep this up for another month"

"Deal"

-

"Hey Buck-

"How come you didn't tell me you'd already left," Bucky set his laptop off to the side, his tight black tshirt riding up giving you a pretty view of his happy trail as he leaned over, closing the screen shut.

"You knew I was going to come-" You started with an eyeroll but Bucky wasn't having it, shaking his head while you looked at the knickknacks sitting on his desk.

"And I've told you to at least let me know when you leave, especially at night"

"When did you care so much" You snorted, gasping when he came up from behind you, turning you around and grasping your jaw in his hand, squeezing your cheeks, making you meet his eyes.

"You don't walk out alone at night. I would have called you an uber"

"It's two blocks-

"I don't care. So who were you all dressed up for earlier today" Bucky cocked at eyebrow, releasing the soft grip he had on your jaw, moving them to rest around your waist instead.

"I wasn't dressed up, it was a regular outfit"

"Please, that tiny black skirt with those stockings" His grip tightened, digging around your hips, "Saw you come by the field when we had practice, were you trying to show me something doll" He smirked, noting you were currently still in his leather jacket.

"I thought it looked cute, don't flatter yourself Barnes-

"That's Steve's sweater" Bucky cut you off narrowing his eyes, tugging the hem of the hoodie. You hadn't even noticed, giggling when you realized you had indeed somehow accidently ended up with Steve's sweater.

"I just wear whatever's comfy, must've gotten mixed up in your laundry last time I was here" You shrugged, tossing off his jacket onto the chair by the desk. "If it helps, it was your hoodie I intended to steal"

"You're not wearing his sweater" It was a statement, something other than lust clouding his thoughts, itching to rip the sweater off your body and keep you wrapped up in nothing else but him.

"Seriously? Why does it matter, I thought this was just casual anyway-

"Mine" Bucky growled, pulling the hoodie off your body and making a point of tossing it out of the room before locking it shut again. "You're mine"

"Bucky-

"Always teasing me with those fuckin' skirts" Bucky grabbed you, hauling you over his shoulder and tossing you over the bed before crawling on top of you and pinning you under him. You hadn't been wearing anything under the hoodie, gasping when Bucky tugged at your nipples, smirking as they pebbled at his touch. "Do you not see how other guys look at you when you wear that baby"

"Bucky please" You sounded needier than usual, caught off guard by his surge of possessiveness, different from his usual protective nature over you. He attacked your neck with kisses, sucking bruises onto them between soft bites, letting his tongue swipe over the area after.

"Tell me, lookit you laying in my bed as soon as I call, soo needy all just for me, huh?" His hands came to lace with yours, pressing his erection between your legs, grinding against your clothed core.

"Jamie, do something" You pouted, squeaking when he came down to nip your lips, getting off you just to throw your shorts and panties off, wasting no time ridding himself of his clothes. He slotted himself back between your legs, letting his thick length rest between your soaked cunt.

"Patience pretty bunny, you have no idea what you do to me, do you. Not sharing you with anyone, you're mine"

"I'm yours?" You whined feeling his cockhead swipe through your folds, gathering your slick, a flash of vulnerability passing between you as his eyes bore into yours.

"Always, babydoll" Bucky whispered with his lips brushing against your as he started to push in, the both of you gasping at the feeling of the initial stretch. It didn't matter how many times he'd already had you like this, the feeling was forever unmatched. He didn't bother with giving you a moment to adjust, setting a brutal pace as soon as he was fully sheathed inside you. He made of a point of making you scream as loud as possible, well aware his best friends were still home, working his hips faster at the thought of you in Steve's sweater.

"You're. All. Mine" Bucky slammed his cock into you with each word, hoping to write his name in cum all over the inside of your tight cunt. "Say it, tell me you're mine, c'mon baby"

"M'y-yours" You stuttered out, "I'm yours Bucky!!"

"That's right, gonna make you scream that all night"

-

And he kept his word. Bucky kept you impaled on his cock until he couldn't hold it any longer, spilling ropes of his load into you, one after the other. He would watch it drip out before getting hard again from the sight along, pushing his dick back into you to make sure not a drop was wasted.

You panted, withering under him as he pulled one more orgasm out of you before letting his bodyweight drop, his now disheveled locks and flushed cheeks resting against your bare chest.

"I meant it you know" He murmured, pressing a kiss between your breasts before looking up at you, "It's more than just physical for me"

"Are you sure?" You giggled as he leaned up to nudge his nose against yours with a shy smile he reserved just for you..

"Very sure. I love you" Bucky mumbled against you hair, pulling the sheets up to cover you both, his arms wrapped tightly around you body to his chest.

"I love you too"

"I also meant it when I said you can't wear his sweaters"

"Bucky-

"Mine"

-

"I want my $20"

[sassypossum]

You're Welcome

Steve Rogers x Reader ~ Meet Cute

Reader wears glasses: everyone suffers from social awkwardness, Bucky makes a cameo appearance

“Just great.” You grumbled to yourself. Placing your hands on your hips you craned your neck to squint at the chips on the top shelf. “Of course, they’d move my brand to the top shelf.” With a sigh you laid your purse in your shopping buggy and rolled up your sleeves. Looking both ways to make sure no one was coming you crouched and gave your hips a little warm up wiggle.

“Where there's a will there's a way.” Taking a deep breath, you pushed off the ground, and you just barely brushed the bag with your fingers. Landing on the balls of your feet you shoved a hand roughly through your hair and huffed.

"Excuse me?” A gentle voice broke through your frustration.

“Oh!” Covering your mouth with one hand the other quickly flew to your heart as you flinched. Patting your chest, you narrowed your eyes and turned to find the owner of the voice. “You can’t just come up on someone,” The words dried up on your tongue when you were met with the bluest eyes you’d ever seen. No, that wasn’t quite true. It wasn’t the hue of his eyes that was so striking, it was the subtle hint of something that was dancing just on the edge of description.

“Ma’am?” The stranger was staring at you intently, concern punctuating his furrowed brow.

“Hm?” Your eyes had drifted from his eyes down to his insanely built frame before drifting back towards his face. Slowly your vision cleared, and to your utter horror you realized you’d been gawking. Snapping your mouth shut, you shook your head and coughed. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you alright?”

“Oh, dandy!” Closing your eyes, you winced at the crack in your voice. Cracking open one eye, you noticed he was still staring at you in concern. Clearing your throat, you opened your eyes and turned your attention back towards the top shelf. He followed your eyeline.

“Were you trying to reach those?” He nodded towards the chips.

“Yeah, some genius stock person thinks we’re all giraffes.” The stranger chuckled. For some reason, the warm sound sent a fuzzy feeling spreading through your body. Reaching up, he easily swiped a bag from the top shelf and held it out to you.

“Here you go.” Gingerly you took the extended offering, averting your eyes in the hopes that he wouldn’t notice that you’d practically been gaping again.

“Thanks,” Pausing you realized you didn’t even know his name. Folding your arms around the chips, you glanced back up at him. “I don’t know your name.” The stranger tugged on the brim of his baseball cap and coughed. Tilting your head to the side you considered him. For some reason he seemed awfully familiar.

“Steve.” He said quietly. With a gasp you clutched the bag tighter, and your eyes flew open as it all began to make sense. No wonder he looked familiar, this was none other than Captain America.

“Steve as in Steve Rogers?” You inched closer in interest. Steve’s face flushed and he took a step back. One never to be deterred by social etiquette, you inched closer still with a growing smile.

“Ma’am, please.” Steve’s voice had taken on a pleading tone, and it only took a moments observation to realize that you had him practically pinned against the shelving behind him. Quickly you took several steps back to give him breathing room. With a sigh, Steve brushed an invisible wrinkle from his shirt and righted his hat. Entirely unintentionally, you inched closer towards him again.

“Mr. Captain America Rogers, sir, can I ask you a question?”

 Steve froze internally at the look in your eyes. He’s seen that look so many times before. And the questions. Always something about the suit, the shield, ‘a day in the life of captain america’, or heaven forbid, some lewd intimations about the… effects of the serum. Still, he didn’t want to seem rude, and so, he steeled himself and gave you a cordial smile.

“Ask away.” His placid expression wavered slightly at the way you quickly looked in both directions before giving him a sly smile and inching even closer. His attention flitted to the poor chip bag in your arms, well not so much a chip bag anymore. Bag of confetti would be a more apt description.

“Mr. Captain America Rogers sir,” Pushing your glasses up your nose, you looked up at him excitedly. Steve fidgeted and folded his arms.

“Please, Steve is fine.” Your smile only grew. You almost chuckled at the unease in his expression when you inched closer.

“Steve, was Don Ameche really as good looking in person as he was on the screen?” Steve stared back at you blankly.

“Don Ameche?” Steve raised a brow at your eager nodding. “I never had the chance to meet him.” At the way your smile faltered, he continued. “Now, the dames really seemed to like Clark Gable.”

“You met Clark Gable?!” Without thinking you reached out excitedly and grabbed his arm, before quickly releasing him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cap, Steve.” You sputtered, wrapping your arms soundly around your bag of chip dust. Steve glanced first from his arm back into your eyes.

“Do you want a different bag?” His eyes dipped towards the bag as if to punctuate his question.

“Oh,” You clutched the bag closer, feeling how broken up the remnants were. Meeting his eye, you chuckled. “Yeah, these are kinda flat.” Steve turned and retrieved another bag.

“Here you go.” He handed you the second bag. Reaching for the second bag you dropped the first, and when you bent to reach for it, you none too gently bumped foreheads with Steve Rogers, or as you’d come to lovingly call him, rock head.

“Ow!” Forgetting the bag, you shot up rubbing an already appearing lump on your forehead. Steve reached out to touch your forehead gently.

"You okay?" 

"Yeah, boy did that hurt." Looking up, your breath caught in your throat at how close you were to those gorgeous eyes. "You have lovely eyes." You blurted out and instantly wished the floor would turn into quicksand." Steve coughed, and stepped away from you like you were a burning stove. 

Ping.

Ping.

Steve rubbed his forehead and glanced up at you before checking his phone.

Bucky: get her number, punk.  

Pocketing his phone, Steve looked around quickly, taking notice of Bucky standing at the end of the aisle with a smug grin. Narrowing his eyes, Steve motioned for Bucky to go away. The last thing Steve wanted was for him to try getting involved. Bucky shrugged and made his way towards where you were. Steve groaned.

“Hey, Stevie, I was wondering what was taking you so long.” At the sound of a new voice, you snapped to attention and whirled around. Standing next to Steve was a slightly shorter, but no less attractive brown-haired man. The new man gave you a smirk and held out his hand palm up. “Names James, but friends call me Bucky.” You flushed at the casual wink he tossed you.

“Y/N.” You found yourself saying as you reached out to take his hand. Giving it several firm shakes you tried to pull back, but Bucky merely raised your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back. Steve cleared his throat, causing Bucky to glance at him before releasing your hand. Steve stood to the side arms folded, giving Bucky a clearly annoyed expression.

“Well, I hate to break up this party,” Bucky clasped a hand around Steve’s shoulder and gave you a smile. “But, unfortunately we’re running late.” Squeezing his friend's shoulder, he regarded you again. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N, hope to see more of you.” Turning to pass Steve, he leaned in and lowered his voice. “If you don’t get her number, I’ll as her for you.” Steve flushed, and Bucky clapped him on the back with a chuckle. “Hurry up, punk.” This was said loudly enough for even you to hear. Both you and Steve watched Bucky swagger off towards the produce department.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you,” You said, turning to look at Steve. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but you cut him off, reaching for your bag. “Thanks again, Steve, you know, for the assistance.”

“Don’t mention it.” Steve gave you a lopsided grin and rubbed the back of his neck.

“See you around, Steve.” He nodded and watched you walk away.

Ping.

Ping.

Steve closed his eyes and groaned. It wasn’t the right time. He was still stinging from his last break up. You seemed like a nice lady, he didn’t want to inevitably hurt you. It didn’t make sense.

Ping.

Ping.

“Make a move, Rogers.” He muttered to himself. When Steve opened his eyes, you were gone. Feeling his stomach drop towards his feet, he quickly made his way to the end of the aisle in time to see you standing in one of the checkout lines, talking to Bucky. Before he could take another step, Bucky turned away from you with a wave and made his way to Steve. You glanced down at your phone.

Ping.  Steve whipped his phone out of his pocket.

You: Hi. Looking in your direction, he saw you give him a warm smile before turning back around in line. Bucky snatched the wilted bag of chips out of his hand and clapped him on the back.

“You’re welcome, Steve.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

+•+

«timeline»

◇ day 1-7:

Day1: Thigh Riding.- Jin Sakai

Day2:Breeding.- Stanford Pines

Day3:Blindfold- Stanley Pines

Day4: Morning / lazy sex.- Dorian Zibowski

Day5:Knotting-Viktor Vasko

Day6:Marking- Logan Howlett

Day7:Mirror sex- Stanford Pines { insecure reader}

◇ day 8-14:

Day8:Caught In the act- Stanford Pines

Day9:Skinny Dipping- Ford x Reader x Fiddleford{ Poly ship }

Day10:Size Difference-Full demon! Husk

Day11: Overstimulation- Jin Sakai

Day12:Jealousy sex- Overlord! Husk

Day13:Oral- Adam { Hazbin Hotel }

Day14:Tied up/Shibari- Baxter { Hazbin Hotel }

◇ day 15-21

Day15:Temp Play- Kurt Wagner { X-men 97 }

Day16:Loss of Virginity- ​Nico Savoy

Day17:Car sex.- Rocky Rickaby

Day18:Shower sex + aftercare- Vox

Day19:Size Difference{struggling to take his size}- Bucky Barnes

Day20:On a non bed surface- Husk

Day21:Formal Wear- Mordecai Heller

◇ day 22-28

Day22:Ripped stockings- Stanley Pines

Day23:Sex Pollen- Husk

Day24:Injury sex { after care }- Stanford Pines

Day25:Pregnancy Sex- Stanley Pines

Day26:Sex in public- Rick sanchez

Day27: Public + fingering-Stanford Pines

Day28:Cockwarming- Vox

◇ day 29-31

Day29: Sex cuddling while high- Alastor

Day30:Window Sex- Bucky Barnes

Day31:Rough Sex{With aftercare}- Rock Rickaby

[first-edition]

Bent Over

Summary- You may be Bucky’s assistant but your still is pretty wife. When the other board members take a liking to you bucky puts them in their place by showing them exactly who you belong two.

Cw- literally just smut basically, P-in-V, Unprotected, doggystyle, hair pulling, choking kink, Sargent! Authority kink, reader has long hair and wears heels, Afab reader, brief mention of drool, dirt talk, public sex, exhibitionistm kink, dom/sub, Dom!bucky, CEO!bucky, assistant reader, spanking, pet names, brief clit play, bucky fucking you raw over the meeting table with others watch. SLIGHTLY PROOF READ.

A/N this is by far the most….UNHOLY thing I’ve ever written in my 11 years of writing fanfiction and smut so i encourage you to read the content warning above and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

ENJOY

You've worked for Bucky for hydra company since you were born. You previously worked for your father Alexander Pierce when you turned 14. But when his assistant double crossed him and killed him, that same assistant, James Buchanan Barnes took over the company at 18. At first you hated him having nothing left, not like your father was good. Of course the company should've gone to you..and well it did but at 14 years old it wasn't yours to run. 

You two would bicker and often hand in hand fight regardless of being his assistant. Many year later and many fail assanation attempts on him you married him. You've been James's assistant for 11 years, and you've been married to him for 3. Your bickering had ended in a lust induced fight that led to feeling being expressed at gunpoint then a rough night that left you partially, and deliciously crippled the next morning, which prompted Bucky to make you breakfast in bed and draw you a bath. 

Your work relationship is far different from home. At home he never lets you only want you whether that's wrapping his arms around you for a cuddle or being balls deep in your cunt. 

At work however he's the right amount of distance and so are you. It's become a mutual thing to not let anyone know in the tower that you and the big boss are married. 

You walk into the building holding a tray of coffees and an arm full of files. Your hair up in a ponytail, you wear a black knee high pencil skirt with a fairly loose but classy dark blue blouse, your black stockings paired with the jet black louis vuittons red bottoms bucky bought you last week. 

“I made the coffee run.” you say setting the tray down in the office room. 

Everyone who orders comes scrambling to their order without a thank you as usual. 

“You do a lot around her, don't you miss pierce.” you hear an older man's voice speak and you turn to see one of the board members and the other men on his team behind him. 

“Welcome Mr Cain you are early..i'll have to let mr barnes know.” you say pursing your lips in slight annoyance. 

“Yes well i'm not going to miss a chance at this pretty face now am I?” he says lifting your chin you pull away from him. 

“Excuse Me.” you say before turning back and walking down the hall area. They of course unauthorizedly follow close behind you. You stop at bucky's office doors as the desk girl presses the button allowing the doors to open you step in seeing bucky standing over to the window watching the morning view of the city as he shines up his metal hand, which your father gave him after a coup was sent on him he used bucky as a human shield. 

“Mr barnes. It appears Mr Cain has arrived early.” you says 

“Love the way you say my name sweetheart.” Cain speaks slapping your ass making you jump and wanting you punch the ever living outta him. 

“Hmm.” Bucky hums as he turns to see Mr cain. 

“Are the others here?” he asks you. 

“No sir…they will be arriving at 8. Like you asked.” you say knowing bucky will be pissed off at cain with being early and treating you as such. A small smile forming on your face. 

“You're 15 minutes early Cain. Were you offered coffee or bourbon? " Bucky says. 

“No james-” Cain begins. 

“Good.” Bucky cuts him off. He looks to you and holds out his hands for the files. You walk over to him handing them to your beloved husband. He takes a moment to look through the pages.

“Early Mr Cain but lacking in so many areas, your files aren't in the stock.” he says. 

“I had it transferred digitally.” Cain speaks proudly. Bucky tilts his head to the side slightly and nods a bit before handing the files back to you. You walk to the cabinet and bend down to sort them into the right orders. You hear a crash and a grunt knowing Cain is face down on the table and Bucky is holding him there. 

“Im old school Cain i like the files printed, i also like to be on time, not early, not late…on. Fucking. Time.” bucky huffs cain struggles against the cold black marble desk. 

“Understood?” Bucky asks. 

“Y-yes..sir..” Cain gurgles out. Bucky lets him go and stands up fixing his suit. 

“Good. I'll see you in um….10 minutes. Office room 8. y/n.” bucky says looking at you as you close the files cabinet. 

“Yes sir?” you ask completely unfazed but the situation as Cain picks himself up. 

“Send the maid in to clean up the mess and get room 8 ready for the meeting… also escort Mr Cain out and show twords the room.” he says you nod your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you walk out cain following you. 

—-------

You stand on the side of the door way welcoming the men of the board into the meeting room one by one they all join in and in some way in their own eye fuck you, or get a touch of you in some way. 

They all take their seats and bucky walks in after them. You're about to close the door when he stops you. 

“I'll need you for this one doll.” He says he never calls you his personal nickname at work. 

“S-sir?” you ask 

“Come on love.” he says, taking your hand leading you into the room. He takes a seat at the head of the table as usual and you stand beside him. 

“So I realize that we are gathered here for the section rating. How our router facilities are going and what we are going to do about the one that got taken down. Simply kill the one in charge, the router taken down, and forty the rest." Bucky begins. 

“In the budget.” someone begins. Bucky holds his hand up. 

“The budget is not the problem. The problem is that we have to much money and aren't using it to put more into the structure..but that's not the problem i want to address today no…the harassment and sexualization of my wife is getting out of hand.'' Bucky speaks and stands up pushing his chair back. 

“J-james.” you speak quietly. 

“I don't know what you men think but i think that the only one here who gets to touch her is me…don't you?” bucky speaks undoing his belt, your knees feel of jello and a shiver goes up your spine. 

Bucky pulls you to him and presses his lips to yours deeply he grips a handful of your ass before pushing you back against the table, your back laying against it he pushing up your skirt and rips open the front of your shirt. 

“I think you all need a fuckign lesson about who my assistant is and your gonna sit their like good students and fucking watch.” bucky grunts out as your laced bra is exposed he grips your neck pulling you up to him and gently takes out your ponytail letting your hair fall. 

“What do you think of these dirty old men touching you honey?” he asks you. You bite your lip making a bucky smile knowing what that does to him. 

“Your hands trails down his front to his crotch feeling the bulge already full in his pants straining against the fabric. You pull down the zipper causing him to slip out, you take him in your hand giving his length a few good strokes before he pushes back against the table he moves your panties to the side briefly only to rip them off throwing them in the room. With out warning or prep he enters you roughly you mouth falls open and a moan escapes as he begins to fuck up into you. 

“n-ngh..James.” you gasp out in pleasure. 

“Come on princess, don't hide those pretty sounds from us.” he says a violent blush fills your face but the arousal going on between your legs blurs out any embarrassment. Your husband is fucking you out silly, on the table of the meeting room infront of the entire board and you are loving every second of it. 

“Come on doll you gotta l–let em know who you belong to. You the fuck put tha pretty ring on your finger?” bucky huffs. 

“Y-you did ahh. Fu-fuck.. You did.” you maon out in fragments as he pulls you bra down exposing your tits gripping one and continuing to fuck you his thumb brushing over your hardend bud and the stimulation in you cunt is enough for you cum once. 

“F-fuck james..ah” you grip his hand as your cunt squeezes around his cock. 

“Come on love you cant keep this a secrect you fucking cumming?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 

“Y-y-yes ah..m-more please.” you ask breathlessly. He pulls out of you for a quick moment before turning you on your stomach and taking you from behind. Your nails claw at the table as he pounds into you. 

“Come on honey gotta show em your gorgeous face dont yah.” he pulls you up you back against him his left hand around your neck making your eyes roll back in pleasure and happiness on the dominance he has over you. While his other hand reaches down to your clit rubbing and playing perfectly. 

“Ah! AH” you moan out a broken gasp as your knees merge in over stimulation. 

“Come on… take it like a good girl.” Bucky groans into your ear knowing that the other men can absolutely hear him. 

Your arms reach about your head holding onto bucky as best as you can, your tits bouncing freely, men both looking away and can't take their eyes off the display right in front of them. 

“Come one baby you gonna fucking cum for me again huh?” bucky grunts. 

“Y-yes ah fuck yes.. Please i- i want it so b-bad. Please im your..ah please sargent” you beg. Bucky knowing full well he has you in the palm of his hand now with how cock drunk he's easily gotten you. 

His hold around your neck loosens and he lets you back onto the table pressing his hand onto the small of your back feeling the arch making him groan. 

“Such a good fucking girl for me huh? For everyone here being so fucking obedient.” bucky barks out sending a harsh slap on your ass for you only making  you clench around his cock. Surging pleasure though him. Skin slapping against skin as he fucks you out.

“Fuck.” he huffs. He grips your hair pulling your head back, your drunken expression facing all the men drool dripping as your tongue hangs out. The pleasurable tears stinging the sides of your eyes blurring your vision. 

“I- im gonna c-cum ah- fuck.. Please please ah..” you messily beg. 

“Come on doll cum.” he demands out from you a few more thrusts later he has you cumming for the second time. His thrusts become weaker and sloppy as he curses with a rough few thrusts in you emptying his load into your pussy filling you up. He pushes his hair back as he pulls out of you. Bucky gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before lifting you up against him your fucked you dazed happy expression is glowing for the others in the room. 

“obedience..is taught gentleman respect is earned. Any of you flaccid fucking shit faces touch her again or dare to question my authority with USLESS BOARD MEETINGS… Ill send someone to each and everyone of you and put a bullet or two right between your fucking eyes. Is that Understood?” Bucky speaks. 

“Yes sir.” they all say in broken unison. 

“Get the fuck out.” Bucky says they scramble out gathering their things and falling out the door before it's just the two of you left. You giggle out a tired giggle. 

Bucky tucks himself back into his pants, setting you down gently and brings his chair over. 

“Come here doll. You alright?” he asks you nod looking at him with lust filled eyes. 

A smile fills his face as his thumb brushes against your cheek. He sits you down in his chair. 

He takes off his jacket, placing it around you. “Come on honey imma take you home i don't think you can work today or tomorrow.” he smiles before kissing your lips. 

“W-we should do this again then yeah?” you ask as he picks you up bridal style. 

“Id be happy to fuck you infront of the presedent next week.” he chuckles. Making you laugh.

—-my requests are open—-

[kayhi808]

First Crush 16 - Happy Halloween

I know this is late but technically it's still Halloween in Hawaii. I hope everyone has fun tonight! 🥰

"Honey, you're going to need to stay still."

Abby is squirmy in the make up chair, "But N'asha, I soooo 'cited!" Raising her little fists up in the air, ready for Halloween to begin.

Stepping back with her hands on her hip, "Well, if you stuck to being a Widow, we don't have to do this part."

Sitting still as can be, "No tank you. I needs to be Diwctor Fuwy! I stay still." Natasha continues to glue down the skull cap to Abby's head.

You enter the room with Abby's utility belt stocked with snacks and her trench coat. "Ok I think...." You stop in your tracks to stare at your daughter. The cap has made her completely bald looking. You're still undecided on how to feel about her costume of choice. Once Abby sets her mind to something it's hard to convince her otherwise. You had drawn in her goatee earlier, so she was just about done. She's still wearing the Widow suit underneath the trench.

"Mama, lookit! I no more hairs!" Abby cackles as Natasha sets her down.

She skips over to you, "Yes, I can see that." You strap on her utility belt. "While we're out, you only eat the snacks in here. You cannot touch the candy you collect, ok? I'll need to check it first."

"Okies, Mama!"

You help her on with her trenchcoat and runs over to the mirror & she squeals. " Do you like it?"

She jumps up and down, "I loves it so much!" She runs over to hug Natasha "Tank you!"

"Have fun tonight," she places the final touch of the eye patch on. "Listen to your Mama."

******

Chloe, Mia and their mothers were going to meet up at the Tower before hitting the nearby neighborhoods with the girls. You dressed yourself up as a hobbit. Brown capris & vest with a white poet shirt, a green hooded cape and a walking stick. It was the same costume as last year. You had always thought the stick could double as a weapon if need be. Bucky scoffed at your idea. He said him and Sam would be joining you for protection. He refused to have you and Abby out and about on a crazy night like Halloween unprotected.

You let Abby make her entrance and you watched the looks on Bucky and Sam's faces. Speechless. Horrified. Abby did her little sashay around the room, stopping in front of Bucky, jumping up and down with her hands clasped. "Do yous loves it?!" She plays with the trench to make the bottom swish.

Bucky's mouth is open & closing like a fish out of water. He turns to Sam, "Don't look at me. She asked you."

"Wow! Abigail. Wow!" Bucky's eyes meet yours and you give him a smirk.

"This whole...look? It's going to be embedded in my brain FOREVER," Sam nods at Abby.

Abby claps her hands, "Tank you!!"

The horror hasn't left Bucky's eyes as you laugh, "We better head downstairs."

While on the elevator ride down, both Bucky and Sam try touching Abby's bald skull cap without her knowing. "Stop," you hiss at them.

The elevators open to the lobby and when the little girls see each other they all squeal and scream, running to hug each other. They are so cute! Chloe is dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz and Mia is Ren from Star Wars. The 3 girls gush over the sparkly shoes, Mia's mini light saber and of course Abby's bald head. Quick introductions are made amongst the adults. Bucky had met their husbands at the father/daughter dance at the daycare so they were a little familiar with each other. And Sam is so personable, he makes everyone feel at ease.

They were about to head out when the glass door slide open and Nick Fury and Maria Hill walk in. All 3 little girls gasp. Eyes wide and mouths shaped as little "o". Just like the time before, very intimidating and frightening, trench coat flowing behind him, cutting a striking figure across the lobby.

Abby runs across the lobby, followed by her 2 best friends. "Diwector Fuwy!!" She hugs his leg, "Happy Hanoween!"

He frowns down at her, 'Who the hell are you supposed to be?!"

Chloe is afraid of his tone and Mia hold her hand. The parents quickly follow.

Abby covers her mouth and giggles. "I'm you!!" She does a little turn making sure her trench swishes out. She slides her hand in his. "You wikes it?"

"Just say you like it," Bucky says with a little growl in his voice.

You try to distract & gather everyone to head out.

Abby looks at her friends, "Him's my fwend. He's so smart and braves. Him's the big boss to my Mama, Bucky, Captain America, Black Widow, Fawcon, Iron Man, Green Man, Lightning Man, Arrow Man....all dem Avengers. He protects the whole world and even space!" Fury doesn't look as angry & gives her little hand a squeeze. "And keeps us safe." Poking her eyepatch, "So no one steals our eyeballs, right?" His frown is back in full force and her drops her hand. He takes out his money clip and drops some money into the girls bags. "Get the hell out of my lobby. Go get some ice cream or something."

Again the girls gasp and a chorus of "Tank you, Diwector Fuwy! Happy Hanoween!" They all giggle and wave like the mini fan club that they are now.

"Ok, let's get started." You all start heading out and you turn to Bucky, "I thought Steve would join us tonight."

Abby pipes up, "Uncle Steve is on important dates. He cannot."

Bucky narrows his eyes at Abby, "How do you know he's on an important date?"

Abby shrugs before running off to join her friends, "Him tells me tings."

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly

[lokilaufeysonslove]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 - 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

// Author’s Note // I have mentioned wearing glasses somewhere, and if you don’t wear glasses, I’m sorry. I don’t either though. I just thought it was cute lmao.

Bucky loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his oversized sweatshirts. He loves the way they look on you, and he loves the feeling of you being wrapped up in his embrace.

He always makes sure to have your favorite snacks stocked in the fridge, just in case you come over unexpectedly. And when you do, he loves watching you dig in and enjoy them.

Bucky loves when you play with his hair, running your fingers through it or braiding it. He finds it soothing and loves the feeling of your touch on his head.

He loves when you fall asleep on his chest, your soft breaths lulling him into a peaceful state. He cherishes these moments and never wants to move, afraid of waking you up.

Bucky can't resist kissing your forehead whenever he gets the chance. He loves the way you look up at him with a smile, and the way your nose crinkles when he tickles your cheek with his stubble.

He loves cooking for you and trying out new recipes together. He finds joy in seeing you enjoy the food he makes and loves the teamwork aspect of cooking with you.

Bucky loves taking you on long walks, whether it's through the city streets or in the park. He loves the quality time and the chance to hold your hand and steal kisses along the way.

He loves watching movies with you, especially cuddled up under a blanket on the couch. He always lets you pick the movie, secretly loving your taste in romantic comedies.

Bucky loves when you talk about your passions and interests. He finds it endearing and loves seeing your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.

He loves surprising you with little gifts or gestures, just to see the smile on your face. He's always thinking of ways to make you happy and show you how much he cares.

Bucky loves when you wear his dog tags. To him, it's a symbol of your connection and his way of always keeping you close to his heart.

He loves when you brush his metal arm with your fingers, tracing the lines and curves. It's a reminder to him that you accept and love all parts of him, even the ones that he's still learning to accept himself.

Bucky loves when you dance in the kitchen together while cooking or cleaning. He loves the way you move and the feeling of being close to you.

He loves watching you work, whether it's on a project or just doing everyday tasks. He finds you incredibly talented and admires your determination and drive.

Bucky loves when you wear his leather jacket. He thinks it looks better on you than it ever did on him, and loves the way it smells like you after you've worn it.

He loves when you sing along to your favorite songs, not caring who's around to hear. He loves your voice and the passion you put into every note.

Bucky loves when you make him laugh, and he loves making you laugh even more. He loves seeing your smile and hearing your laughter, and will do anything to make it happen.

He loves when you fall asleep on his shoulder during a movie or on a long car ride. He loves the feeling of your weight against him and the trust you have in him to keep you safe.

Bucky loves when you stand up for yourself and speak your mind. He admires your strength and courage, and will always have your back no matter what.

He loves when you wear your glasses, telling you how cute and smart you look. He loves how they sit on your nose and the way your eyes sparkle behind them.

Bucky loves when you dance with him, even if it's just a slow dance in the living room. He loves the feeling of being close to you and the way your body fits perfectly against his.

He loves when you hold his hand, whether it's walking down the street or just sitting together. He loves the feeling of your fingers interlaced with his and the sense of security it brings.

Bucky loves when you take care of him when he's sick or injured. He appreciates your nurturing nature and loves the way you make him feel better with just a touch or a kiss.

He loves when you tell him about your dreams and aspirations. He loves being a part of your journey and will always support and encourage you to chase your dreams.

Bucky loves when you tell him you love him, and he never gets tired of saying it back to you. He cherishes every moment with you and can't imagine his life without you in it.

[the-iceni-bitch]

She’s Many Places

Relationship: amazon!lawyer Natasha Romanov x petite!curvy fem reader (Big Red and Peach, NLLYL AU)

Word Count: ~1.4k

Summary: You love when Nat comes home.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (titty worship, petting, teasing, f/f sex, mentions of f receiving oral sex), good natured teasing about sugar mommy/baby relationship even though that’s not what they have, so much fluff, age gap relationship, an offended kitten, SMUT! 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Some sapphic fluff for pride (yes I know it’s not still Pride, but that’s a technicality) and oh my god I love these two. They’re so sweet together and playful and they give me the heart eyes 😍

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Natasha hummed to herself as she shook the rain off her umbrella, grabbing the mail out of the box and taking one last look at the gray sky before walking into the brownstone.

“Baby?” She took off her coat and kicked off her pumps, unpinning her hair as she moved down the hall while Gus wound between her legs. “Peach, are you here?”

“I’m in the living room!” You beamed at her over the top of your book. “Is it still raining?”

“Yeah, it’s gloomy.” She scooped up the kitten and sank next to you on the couch, kissing your cheek before resting her head on your lap. “And work was long. How do you feel about ordering in?”

“I feel fantastic about it.” You ran your fingers through her hair while she pulled out her phone to order something. “I want pasta.”

“Pasta?” She kissed your fingers after you poked her nose affectionately. “We can do pasta. With garlic bread. Split a tiramisu?”

“Mmhm.”

These soft domestic moments were everything with Nat. It was like every moment the two of you spent together just being close made you fall in love with each other even more. Saturdays at the farmers market always left you smiling when she would buy you flowers and you would share fresh blueberry scones. Sunday mornings in bed together where you made her pancakes and the two of you ate in bed and did the crossword while the kitten napped in a sunbeam would set her heart fluttering. And every time it got rainy and gloomy outside when the two of you would just cuddle were perfect.

“Hey peach?” Nat beamed up at you when you peeked down at her, turning and wrapping her arms around you so she could nuzzle into your stomach. “I love you, baby girl.”

“I love you too, Nat.” You giggled when she kissed your tummy, trying not to squirm when she pinched your side and tickled you a little. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself, wait a minute.” She scoffed when she pulled the blanket aside and saw what you were wearing, sitting up and pulling you into her lap while you squealed. “This is my sweatshirt!”

“It’s so comfy!” You laughed when she growled playfully and bit your neck, wiggling in her arms and gasping when she gave you a hickey. “Natasha!”

“What? It’s not like you have to go to the office.” She kissed the mark before pulling the collar of her sweatshirt aside to make another on your collarbone. “Bucky and his beefcake say hi, by the way.”

“My boys! I do miss them.” You tried to stay focused when she started kneading your ass but it wasn’t working. “I am enjoying my life as a sugar baby though.”

“Of course you are.” Nat purred when she edged her fingers under the edge of her sweatshirt and found you were only wearing panties. “Don’t even have to wear your own clothes, get to cuddle the kitten all day, and your pretty little pussy gets all the attention it deserves.”

“Wait, let me mark my page!” You screamed and laughed when she flung you down on the couch and climbed on top of you, your face heating up while the kitten ran off after screaming at the two of you for disturbing him. “Sorry Gus!”

“Gus will be fine.” Natasha grinned as she straddled your hips, her pencil skirt rising up her thighs until you could see the tops of her stockings while she tapped her finger against her plump bottom lip. God, she was hot, you still couldn’t believe she was in love with you sometimes. “Now, the food isn’t going to be here for twenty minutes, should I suck on your tits the whole time or just until your little pussy is all hot and wet then eat you out until you scream for me?”

“Well, I’m already wet.” You bit your lip and arched your back so the sweatshirt started to ride up your tummy, gasping when she reached between the two of you to rub your pussy through your panties. “Feel?”

“Yeah, I feel.” She started petting you while she leaned down to kiss your neck, tutting when you started to take off her sweatshirt. “That stays on. You wear my clothes, you get fucked in my clothes, new rule.”

“Okay.” You whined when she continued rubbing your cunt as she kissed her way down your chest. “You realize that’s not going to discourage me though?”

“It’s not supposed to, hush.” Nat winked at you before pushing her head under the sweatshirt and kissing the undersides of your breasts. “So soft.”

Natasha had never thought of herself as a tits man, but something about yours drove her fucking crazy. Maybe it was the way your pretty nipples would pebble as soon as her breath fanned over them, or when you shivered while she ran her nose along their soft curves. But she was pretty sure it was just because they were yours, and that you were so damn responsive when she paid any attention to them at all. So she started covering your chest with kisses, humming against your skin when you squirmed and whined for her.

Your eyes fluttered closed when she pulled as much of your breast into her mouth as she could and sucked softly, moaning as her tongue swirled around your nipple. She kneaded your other breast with her hand, smiling around your soft flesh when you arched your back to get even closer to her. When she felt you start to vibrate she bared her teeth, biting your nipple gently until you squealed.

“Natasha…” You laughed when she just grunted before kissing her way to your other breast. “One track mind.”

“Yep.” You could practically hear her smirking, but then she sucked on your nipple and pressed her fingers against your swollen clit through your panties and all you could do was whimper.

The rain kept pattering against the window as she worked you over like only she could, adding to the pleasant haze you were in while you gasped and sighed underneath her. She was so warm, so gentle with you. Her fingers kept stroking your pussy while she nibbled on your breast, rubbing your sensitive button until she heard your breath catch. All it took was a little pinch and you came with a squeak, your panties getting even more sticky as you gushed your release.

“Such a messy baby.” Nat ran her nose down your soft stomach slowly, her head slipping out from under her sweatshirt so she could grin at you. “You’re lucky I like it when all my furniture smells like you.”

“Oh my god, perv.” You giggled when she nipped at your hip before rubbing her nose over the gusset of your panties. “You’re such a dirty old lady.”

“Watch your mouth or I’ll spank you instead of licking your pussy.” She buried her face in your cunt and moaned even as she pinched your thigh in warning.

“Oh nooooooooo…” You yelped when she pulled back and swatted your pussy over your panties. “How terrible for me.”

“Oh… shut up.” Nat rolled her eyes before going back to work, taking the crotch of your panties between her teeth and growling mischievously when she started to drag them down your legs.

“Nat!” She didn’t stop when the doorbell rang, just grumbling as she kept dragging your underwear off like she was a riled up frat boy. “That’s the food!”

“But I’ve already got a warm, delicious meal right here.” Nat huffed when you poured at her, sitting up with your panties still in her mouth and giving you a show of sucking your juices out of them before she tossed them aside. “But I know you want your pasta.”

“Thank you.” You tugged the sweatshirt down to cover your hips and covered yourself with the blanket, clapping excitedly when you smelled the bolognese. “You’re the best sugar mommy ever.”

“You’re such a tease.” She pulled you into her lap after handing you your container, kissing your temple when you bit into your garlic bread. “I do love spoiling you, though, sweet little peach. So eat your pasta, and I’ll let you eat all the tiramisu while I have you for dessert.”

[middlingmay]

Birthday sex? Its Austin's birthday tomorrow so perfect occasion

Anon! I'm sorry this took me so long.

A while ago I asked for ideas for sexy scenes so I could practice writing them. Two of them helped me with an idea I've been kicking around for a while, and well. Here it is.

Bucky wears stockings, and Buck knows exactly how to feel about it.

It follows on several months after my Gale Cleven Never Learned to Flirt fic.

7K words of the spiciest thing I think I've ever written. Enjoy (if you're over 18).

-

It was March. The nip in the air had lost most of its bite, but it still nibbled at the tips of your fingers and ears and nose. It shot a draft up any nook and cranny it could if you didn’t wrap up tight enough. It was rarely a problem for John. The military get up was top heavy. Always had been. After the Stalag it was one of the few things that kept his feet on the ground, so to speak, when the winter came around.

But the bottom half of a fella? Protected only by wool slacks and some socks and whatever underwear you were able to fit under it? There was a reason the boys on base stamped their legs when they came in from the cold. John knew his own legs had borne the brunt of the bad weather more than once.

But today John felt pretty toasty down there. It was a delightfully unintended side affect of this whole endeavour.

He’d wanted to do this sooner. Ever since last summer when Gale had let it slip. But the logistics were surprisingly difficult, and in the end he’d had to resort to some identity theft and prayed his older sister didn’t ever come to town and need to use that particular store.

Besides, they had something special to celebrate in March, so it all worked out.

Why he’d worn them to work, John still couldn’t quite explain to himself. He’d wanted to try them on, and they had looked so seamless under the bulk of his uniform that he just…hadn’t taken them off.

He wore them as he was hailed and saluted by the junior ranks when he arrived on base. He wore them when he and the other COs had their morning briefing and shared some smokes over their morning coffee. He wore them when arguing with Vickers about the game. He wore them when he reamed out a cadet for trying to take a plane on a joyride—the very same thing he and Buck had done when they were reckless kids.

And it had…done something for him. Maybe it was just because it was taboo, and it always tickled John to push at boundaries and see what he could get away with. Maybe he liked having a secret when everyone called him an open book (he wasn’t; not since coming back state side, not to anyone but Buck). Maybe he liked the duplicity of it. On one hand, the Lieutenant Colonel. On the other, the degenerate.

Or maybe it was none of that psychological bullshit at all. John had never worn silk before today, with the exception of a tie or a handkerchief or a parachute. But fuck if it didn’t feel nice against his skin. Against all of his skin.

He’d requested an early finish today to he could beat Buck home, and it was a good thing, too. The closer it came to finishing time, the harder it was for John to keep his composure.

He and Gale had come a long way since they made that final step in their physical relationship. John had been so frightened of pushing. He had assumed that Gale needed time to acclimatise to wanting a man like that, wanting John like that. But he’d been terrifically, blessedly wrong, and Gale had been wanting for longer than John had ever realised. They never balked at asking each other to try something new, but Gale had never revisited what he’d mentioned that day he mounted John in the living room, taking what he wanted.

But John would give Gale anything. Including this. His Buck might be a little unsure, might be a little hesitant to go for it, shy about his desires, but John would get him there. John would guide Gale’s hands to his thighs so his fingers could tickle at the hems. He’d show Gale how to grip his waist without risking the clasps coming undone. He’d walk him through just how tight he could pull the straps without them breaking. He’d show him how to be gentle so he didn’t rip the silk.

He’d show him everything.

But first, dinner.

Gale was the cook in their household. Through sheer determination John had started to take up baking. He’d only just managed to make barely passable cookies, and that was because he threw a frankly scandalous amount of sugar in there and loaded them up with chunky chocolate chips that hid a multitude of sins. But when it came to making actual meals, he was hopeless. He could boil water, heat soup, peel vegetables and fry bacon in the pan. But anything more complicated than that was Gale’s far more patient, focused, and diligent domain.

But not tonight. Tonight John had the jump on him.

He pulled up outside Jenny’s. They kept in touch with Macon (and Jefferson, though he was more Gale’s pen pal than John’s, pair of know-it-all's), and it turned out he had a friend who’s wife had a restaurant out here. Her husband hadn’t made it back, but before he left he’d promised her that after the war they were going to start the restaurant they’d always dreamed of. So she’d gone and done it for both of them, and she served some of the best food John had ever eaten. It was Gale’s number one choice every time he got to pick where they went out for dinner.

He’d called ahead and placed his order, and Jenny had it waiting for him as he slipped through the door and tried to weave his way through the crush of bodies.

A server waved him down. “Got your food Mr Egan. It’s hot—Jenny just sent it through.”

Louis. A good kid. Sharp kid. John handed him a couple of dollars tip. “I don’t know how she does it, Louis. Woman’s magic.”

“Don’t I know it.”

John beat a hasty retreat and buckled the bag of food into the passenger seat. It was precious cargo, and their night was not going to go the way John wanted if he let anything happen to dinner from Jenny’s.

He got home with fifteen minutes to spare. Plenty of time to change into fresh clothes and plate up.

He was just pouring himself some wine and Gale some cordial when the man himself walked in the door. His satchel looked heavy over his shoulder and his cheeks were pink from the evening chill. John was already smiling like a goddamn idiot just looking at him.

When Gale saw him standing next to a fully laid table complete with one solitary candle and smelled that tell tale aroma, he shucked his coat and his bag with a rarely seen haste.

“Did you get dinner? From Jenny’s?”

“Mhm,” John trilled sing-song and smug. “Your favourite.”

Gale inhaled a lungful and moaned like he could already taste it from the smell alone. His hands floated to John’s waist as he looked longingly at the food, and John managed to quickly set his hands further up his ribs without him noticing the redirection.

“What’s the special occassion?” Gale pulled him close and pressed their foreheads together. “S’nice.”

John grinned wide and toothy. “Happy birthday.”

Gale pulled back, brows furrowed and tick of a smile playing at his lips. “My birthday was in December.”

Didn’t he know it. It had been miserable this year. A couple days before Christmas and right as a cold snap had hit them. It was the coldest the year had been so far, and they’d barely had it in them to celebrate. Instead they’d cooked as much food as they could, piled the fire high and burrowed themselves under blankets and pillows and each other. They’re refused to allow a single pang of hunger or chill of the cold get anywhere near them.

“Gale Cleven’s birthday was in December,” John corrected him. “Buck’s is in March.”

Realisation dawned with eyes sparkling like the sea in broad daylight from the cockpit of a B-17.

“We met in March 19—”

“1940. Happy seventh birthday, Buck.”

Gale wrapped his arms around John’s neck and kissed him slow and sweet. Warm like the glow of the fire they enjoyed in winter evenings. There was the barest, slightest hint of a pull, like Gale had to stop himself from drawing John’s lips into his mouth, into the waiting nip of his teeth.

He pulled back and set his forehead against John’s, his own smile a goofy match. “You’re a sap, John Egan.”

“Your sap.”

John got one more kiss before Gale was pulling away eagerly sitting down to their meal. To this day, watching Gale eat hale and hearty filled John with a joy he couldn’t quite describe.

Their meal passed with pleasant chatter, mostly led by Gale between bites as John tried to keep his focus on the good food and better company. But in his excitement, and a little nervousness, his leg was bouncing. And he could feel the slip of silk against his skin again.

“You haven’t paid attention to a word I said, have you?”

John’s eyes snapped back to Gale’s, who was trying not to laugh at him.

“Am I boring you?”

John licked his lip. “Far from it.”

Draining the last of his drink, Gale got up and stepped around the table to stand before John. John’s legs opened to let Gale slip between them. He tilted his head back as far as it could go as Gale stepped as close as he could get.

“Something else on your mind?” Gale’s voice was low and coy. Playful. John liked him playful.

“I got something else for you.” John tipped forward and kissed the flat of Gale’s stomach through his shirt, softer on account of their meal. “But it’s not for out here.”

That pricked at Gale’s curiosity. John wasn't one of those folks who thought sex was between them, the bedroom, and the Lord. They’d made it in every room in the house. So, for him to confine it to the bedroom tonight. Well, Gale wanted to know. Needed to know.

“Alright then. Take me upstairs.”

John obeyed the one and only command he expected Gale to be able utter tonight. They had an equal amount of give and take when it came to sex. They both liked being in charge and giving it up depending on their mood. But John knew this was going to be so far outside of Gale’s experience that he’d be the one leading tonight. And he liked the thought. Loved it, even, of being the steady hand behind Gale’s pleasure.

Inside their room, John flipped the lock and Gale’s brows kissed his hairline. But before Gale could ask the questions John could see brewing in that big ol’ noggin, he leaned against the door, hands clasped behind his back and pushed his hips out. A summons Gale had never been able to refuse.

And he didn’t now.

Gale's long, supple hands gripped his hips with a strength that always sent John into a tail spin. People saw Gale’s pretty face and often jumped to the wrong conclusions. He was wicked, sharp, fast, and strong, and more than capable of putting John down when he had to. It was a heady thrill to have that type of strength panting for you, whimpering for you. And that was John’s goal by the end of the night.

Gale swept his hands round to cup and grab at John’s ass, but John laced their fingers together before he could get there. “You missed something,” he said, drawing Gale’s hands up towards his waist.

Gale's pout was cute, and John wanted to pull at it with his teeth. But he wouldn't do anything to miss this moment. He didn’t even blink as Gale touched and traced and explored his body until he caught it. There. A deepening crease between his eyes as Gale felt something covering the thick, meaty softness of John’s waist. He watched Gale’s eyes close as he concentrated, following the line as he figured out it went all the way around. He watched Gale look down as he tried to gauge the thickness of it.

Then he watched that gorgeous fuckin’ mouth drop open and heard the sharp hitch of breath as Gale realised what he was touching.

“You didn’t think I forgot, did you?”

Gale’s fingers dug in. A couple of them slipped under the top of the garter belt, taking fingerfulls of John’s shirt with it. Quick puffs of air fell against John’s lips and Gale’s eyes were wide and unfocused as he stared at John’s waist.

“Hey, it’s okay.” John stroked up Gale’s arms until he could cup Gale’s neck and squeezed it in a soothing beat. “I know it’s new. But we don't have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. And I’ll talk you throu—”

“John.” It was said with a bolt of steel that straightened John’s spine. He hadn’t heard that voice come out of Gale since they’d last disciplined replacements together in England. It had his cock hard and throbbing behind the delicate little panties so quick he near felt dizzy.

“You’ll talk when you’re spoken to. Do you understand?”

The door clacked as John slumped back against it. He felt a fine tremor start to warm and thrum in the muscles of his thighs. He wondered if Gale could see it? The way his eyes were focused on John like Gale was some great prowling beast and John the tasty morsel made him feel like Gale could see right through John's clothes, to the treat that awaited him.

Gale dragged his fingers, still just easing past the eaves of the garter belt, over the fabric on John’s shirt, around to the divots of his waist. He grabbed a better handful and tugged, testing the tautness, the tension, and the pull. Then John was yanked forward by his waist, the belt biting into his skin and straining under the strength of Gale’s hands. The pinch of the fabric had him gasping against Gale’s mouth as he smirked at John.

“I said, do you understand. Doll?”

John’s mouth fell open and a groan fell out. He let it roll out on his tongue as he tried to slip it against the petal-like softness of Gale’s lips. But Gale saw it coming and pulled back, and John tried not to whine like a dog.

Because he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand at all. He was supposed to help Gale fulfill one of his fantasies. He was supposed to lead and guide Gale through the experience and help him discover new realms of pleasure. He was going to watch Gale fall apart because of him.

But that wasn’t the Gale staring down at him now as he leaned into John’s space and had his back arching against the door. This Gale was in charge, in control, and ready to order his subordinate at his will.

How many women had John called doll in his lifetime? How many times had he said it to Gale and watched his cheeks pinken and eyes darken?

But oh, he got it now.

John nodded so hard his head smacked against the door, and Gale chuckled low and syrupy.

“Easy, sweetheart. Need you clear headed for this. For now.”

That’ll be a fuckin’ miracle, John thought.

Gale stepped back and John went to follow until a sharp click in Gale’s throat stopped him dead. Gale retreated backwards to the bed, eyes fixed on John, thumbing open the buttons of his shirt collar until the back of his knees touched the bed.

Slowly, he sank down with his legs spread wide, almost obscene like the way young men do when they have something to prove. But Gale didn’t have to prove a damn thing. He just wanted John’s attention, and he had it. John eyed the endless stretch of Gale’s legs, perfect for wrapping around his waist, or hooking over his shoulder, or driving John were Gale wanted him as he flexed his thighs. John knew their valleys intimately, from the delicate knob of his ankle to the mouth-watering bulge of his cock.

But John didn’t see that bulge now. He stamped down the little flash of disappointment that sparked up. He’d just have to work a little harder. Gale hadn’t seen anything yet, after all.

“You said you got a treat for me?” Gale’s voice was that deep and trembling bass he got that tightened John’s skin and made his insides quiver.

“Yeah,” he barely managed to whisper.

“Show me.”

John had never been one for following orders. But he’d never balk at Gale’s. That particular command gave him some of his Egan charm and bravado rushing back. A natural born showman, he was. And his man wanted a performance.

If he knew tonight was going to go in this direction, he would have found a good station on the radio, or put the record player on loud enough to filter up to the bedroom. But as it was, the only music he had was the warm creak of well-worn, trodden-soft floorboards; the soft shushing slip of his clothes as he ran his fingers down the length of his chest, into the v of his hips, into the flesh of his thighs. His only rhythm was the hammering of his heart, the breaths that hitched and gasped no matter how hard he tried to control them, and Gale’s minute shifts on the bed that sounded deafening tucked away secret in their room.

John traced his fingers back up from his knees to his hips, and he caught Gale’s finger stroking the bedsheets as he watched. John snagged the edges of his shirt and, using the flat of his palm just like he did doing yard work on a hot day, rucked the bottom of his shirt up to show Gale a flash of skin he loved so well. There was barely a day that went by that John didn't have some form of love bite fading on the skin of his belly.

But he showed Gale much more than that. After his rough handling earlier, one side of the garter belt had risen and settle higher on his hip, and now it peeked above the band of John’s slacks. John hadn't liked the belts that looked like a bolt of stretched, shiny fabric. Instead, he’d gotten one with semi-transparent windows against his flesh that let the pale skin peek through the opaque blackness. Stiff, geometric lines ran parallel, and pierced and broke up those glimpses. Gale was going to love it.

Gale’s hands clutched the covers underneath him in bunches as he glimpsed the little peek of the belt jutting over his hip, before John let his shirt fall back.

Gale’s eyes snapped to him and John caught the briefest flash of not-quite-anger, but heat. It was John’s favourite thing: testing that famous Cleven patience until it broke. Because Gale broke good.

“I said show me, John. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

John’s cock had been straining against the lake and silk on his panties for a while now. But the edge in Gale’s voice, the demand tinged with a hint of desperation? It jerked near painfully against its delicate confines, and John felt the sticky drops of his precum leak between flesh and silk, melding them together.

Fuck, he wanted to make Gale repeat himself.

His fingers trembled as he undid his shirt, button by button. He made sure to touch and pet each inch of skin as he slowly peeled his shirt open down the middle. He toyed on the last button a little, fingered the curve of it, rubbed it against his belly, until Gale leaned forward and opened his mouth to tell John off. But John didn’t let him get there. With a flick he undid the last button, but caught the edges of his shirt before they could fall away and it stole up Gale’s breath just like it snatched away what the younger man really wanted.

Holding the bottom corners of his shirt in one hand, John teasingly drew them down his torso and dipped them into the top of his slacks. He held his hand there a second, and pulled the shirt down tighter, stretching the fabric against the width of his shoulders and the expanse of his chest which he knew Gale loved. But the temptation was too much. He’d been achingly hard since Gale got the drop on him and it was right there. John pushed his hand down further before Gale could tell him to stop and almost sobbed as he pressed into the coil of his cock stuffed into too-small panties.

“Stop, John.”

John’s laugh was breathy and high. No fuckin’ way was he going to stop at the barest hint of relief. If he didn’t give himself something, he was going to blow untouched like some green kid.

But Gale wasn’t playing, and his next words were laden heavy with warning. “I said. Stop.”

John did, but didn’t remove his hand. Gale’s eyes were dark and hard and glinting with a side he didn’t trust anyone but John with. But God, John was desperate. It was no secret that he loved attention, but being under Gale’s scrutiny like this was almost too much. Almost.

“Please, Buck,” he sighed, shameless in his need. “I can’t… I just need a little…” He trailed off into a groan as his hand cupped and caressed his cock again.

He managed to open his eyes and Gale was half way to him from the bed. He was glowering, disappointed in John, and his jaw was tight.

Christ. He was in trouble, now.

Without a word, without looking away from John’s eyes, Gale pulled on John’s wrist and yanked his hand out of his pants. The fabric of his slacks roughed up John’s hand a little and he hummed at the pleasant burn. He went to rub it gently with his other, but Gale snatched that one up too and held them tight and unforgiving.

He gently knocked his forehead into John’s and let the tips of their noses brush.

“I know you can listen better than that, John. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

John grit his teeth. He did. He did want to be good. He always wanted to make it good for his Buck. But he wasn’t sure he could, he was so worked up. It had been building all day, bubbling and simmering and ready to boil over with just the slightest crank in the heat.

And Gale hadn’t even kissed him yet. Not since they came into the bedroom. Had barely touched him. John dared to pant into Gale’s mouth, but no further.

“Please, Buck.”

Gale tutted, the clack of his tongue like lead shot in his belly. “Poor baby. You just need a little help, right sugar?”

God, yes. He just needed Gale to touch him, just enough. Just until his head stopped swimming and he could do for Gale what he’d been planning all day.

Gently, like he might if John were a woman, Gale kissed him. Short, sweet, feather light kisses at first. And when John pushed harder, he allowed it. He pushed John’s hands behind his back and squeezed his wrists; a silent command to keep them there. But he would. He could be good now Gale was giving him something.

Gale let the very tips of their tongues touch in the barest hint of a caress before he gentled the kiss again. John keened but drank up every taste of Gale’s lips he could get, all sweet with cordial. Gale’s hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders and dragged John’s shirt down and down. John sighed into Gale’s mouth with relief. He’d foregone an undershirt when he changed after coming home from work, and was grateful for it now. The air of the room was cool against his heated skin, and he felt it tighten with goosebumps and shivered pleasantly.

Gale kissed his way from the corner of John’s mouth along the square jut of his jaw and down the thick column of his neck. John bared it all until he felt the skin stretch across the base of his throat with a tightness that told you that was enough. Gale suckled and nibbled on John’s skin just, just, below where his shirt collars sat. He tugged and tugged and John’s shirt, and John wriggled and helped him get it down to his wrists.

And he felt the pearly hardness of Gale’s teeth against his neck as he grinned.

“Atta boy, Johnny.”

Gale grabbed John’s shirt tight and yanked and pulled and twisted. John couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he was finished, wearing a pleased, satisfied smile as he took John’s face in his hands and kissed him sweet and full, John went to draw up his own hands so he could touched the beautiful planes of Gale’s face. But they were stuck fast.

Gale pulled back and his smirk was a small and wicked thing.

“You needed help,” he said and John tugged fruitlessly at the bond Gale had made of his shirt around his wrists. “That should help you behave.”

The groan that kicked out of John’s chest was bestial. He bit down hard on his lip and slumped into Gale, who laughed at him and petted his hair.

“It’s not too tight,” he asked, kissing the shell of John’s ear.

John shook his head dumbly against Gale’s shoulder.

“Mm. Good.”

John’s stomach swooped, that pleasant, almost arousing way it did on your first flight, as Gale ducked suddenly and John was left swaying there, trying to keep himself steady. But seeing Gale Cleven on his knees in front of you, smiling like the devil incarnate with fingertips plucking at the teeth and tongue of your belt, was as far from steady as a man could get.

Gale made mercifully short work of John’s belt. His button was yanked open so hard John thought it might pop, and his zipper was thurst harshly down. Gale shoved John’s slacks over his hips, and—

And stopped.

Gale could see the garter belt now. He traced those pretty black geometric lines with his fingers. He scratched along where it met the skin of John’s torso. He thumbed the opaque segments like he was testing to see if he could really feel John’s skin through them.

Then he unwrapped John like he was the birthday present he’d been waiting for all day. Gale carefully tugged John’s slacks down so he could see the ties properly. Strips of silk with tiny delicate bows stitched on. Gale tumbled forward on his knees like he was drunk, and nosed the line they ran from the garter belt down into spaces still hidden by John’s clothing. Gale nuzzled so close that the ties pressed into his skin.

John felt his panting breaths in the crook where his belly met his groin. He felt wet heat pulse from his cock and thanked God his hands were tied, because otherwise he may have grabbed a handful of Gale’s hair and put him to work.

“S’pretty, John,” Gale whispered, reverent and adoring. John felt it like the zap of a live wire. His whole body flushed, and there was very little left on him to hide it. He’d never been called pretty a day in his life.

Gale eased John’s slacks over the sizeable curve of his ass and down his thighs, until finally John’s panties were revealed and the very tips of the stockings. And that seemed all Gale could take. He fell face first onto John’s silk covered cock with a pained, eager sound. His hands scrabbled to pull John’s trousers off the rest of the way, shoving them down to John’s ankles and cursing when he had to pull away to tear Bucky’s socks off, too.

Until finally, John stood before a worshipful Gale, garter belt tight around his waist, ties good and tight, panties straining and wet, and stockings encasing his thick thighs and strong, long legs.

Suddenly, Gale’s eyes were large and wide and shiny wet. His lips pouty and half open. Like he might cry. “I don’t…” He shook his head as he gazed at John. “I don’t know how to deserve you, John Egan. I don’t know how…”

Gale’s hands grasped desperately at John’s legs, stroking and slipping all over the silk stockings. He was untethered, unmoored, and John had the passing thought that it was good neither of the joined the navy since they both needed anchoring so bad.

John gave Gale a slow crooked smile. “Just breathe, baby. That’s all.”

Gale closed his eyes and something wild tore out of John when Gale bit at the edge of his panties and pulled at them with his teeth until they snapped back into place with a sting.

Then John was in the air. Gale grabbed John’s thighs and bolted upright, hauling John over his shoulder. John yelped at the display of strength, positive Gale could feel the way his cock throbbed against his shoulder. He felt Gale’s hands worry at the panty line on his ass and land a hard, solid smack on the exposed flesh around the triangle of silk that hardly covered his ass. Then his world was tilting and Gale threw him on the bed. When John looked up at him, bouncing on the mattress, arms still behind his back, Gale’s eyes were raw and wild.

“Just breathe,” he repeated John’s words back at him as he petted the top of the stockings. “You best remember that.”

He slipped his hands underneath John’s arms and sat him up. A few rearrangements later and John was being pushed against a soft wall of pillows so he could look comfortably down to where Gale sat between his sprawling legs.

“Comfy?”

John tugged at his bindings. They were tight but not painful. And he had enough movement that his shoulders and elbows didn’t bear the strain.

“Like a kitten on a cloud.”

Gale gave him his favourite smile, apple-cheeked and from under lowered lashes. It made John want to grab and squeeze and bite him. But he couldn’t do any of that right now and had to lie there under Gale’s weighty, considering gaze and take whatever he was about to be given.

Gale's hands smoothed over John’s chest. His fingers traced under the ridge of his collar bones. The heel of his hands pressed into the bud of John’s nipples, dragging against them in their exploration and John arched his back and pushed into it. Gale dragged his nails down John’s ribs and it made him squirm and wiggle, but with the way Gale had him boxed in and trapped on the bed he had no where to go. So he had to writhe and tremble and take it, the slight scratch of pain the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

Gale's hands finally came to rest at John’s hips, and his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into his hipbones. And John knew what came next. If he knew anything, he knew what came next.

Gale swooped down and mouthed over soft, giving skin of John’s stomach. John moaned his relief loud and unrepentant, gratified there was at least one thing he’d been able to predict about tonight.

The bite of Gale’s teeth rained down with his mouthing kisses. A shiny, slick trail dotted Gale’s path around the proof of their recovery over the past couple of years. He sucked in mouthfuls of John’s flesh until the skin tingled and throbbed and red and purpling patches staked his claim.

“You know," Gale murmured between tastes. "Some of the guys at college brag about how tight their girls can cinch their waists. I couldn’t help but find that strange.” He wrapped his long hands around John’s waist, something pleasant rumbling in his chest when they came nowhere close to touching. “Why would you brag about your girl going hungry? Hm? Wanna keep you full, John. Want my girl’s waist nice and thick and strong. So I know I’m sating her good.”

In more ways than one, John hoped. “Please,” he hissed and Gale’s hand’s dug tighter into his waist. “You do. You do. So good, Buck. Take such good care of me. Please—”

Gale cut him off with a kiss, a good and real kiss, and John felt the wet roll of moisture falling from the corner of his eyes that he hadn’t realised had been building. He wanted to wrap his arms around Gale, to bury his fingers in his hair and trace the sharpness of his jaw, but his hands were still tied uselessly behind him. So he could only sit there as Gale tilted his head back and pressed him as far into the pillows as he could get and kissed him deeper. The tip of his tongue dragged all the way down to the crest of John’s, right at that ridge that took the plunge down into John’s throat. Gale licked the underside of his tongue on his way back, sucking it into his mouth, then nipping on John’s lips, before plundering him all over again.

John could scarce breathe. He didn’t want to, if this was how he was going to go. It wasn’t until one of Gale’s hands pushed hard down on John’s hips that he realised he’d been rutting like an animal, fruitlessly trying to get some friction against Gale but meeting air.

Gale pulled back with one last tug on John's lip and said, “I think I’d like my present now.”

John fell back with a flump. His eyes followed Gale’s hands. They moved up first to tug and yank on the garter belt a little and see how far he could lift John with it. The muscles in Gale’s forearm flexed as he tested it, and finally dropped John back down with a satisfied smile. Then his hands smoothed over the dotted mess he’d made of John’s belly. And just when John thought Gale was finally going to touch him, was finally going to bring him some kind of relief he needed so badly, Gale swerved his hands around the triangle of John’s panties to scrape down his thighs instead.

John swore and lifted his leg to kick at Gale, but he caught him easy.

“Be nice,” he drawled and pressed his thumb into the arch of John’s foot.

“You be nice! I’m dying, here.” Gale looked down to where John’s cock had made a valiant effort to escape his underwear. The flushed, red head peeked out from the bottom, pressed between his thigh, the silk, and John’s balls which had drawn tight, below.

“I can see that. But this was for me, wasn’t it?”

John bit his tongue and groaned harsh and grumbling.

“Wasn’t it?”

John sulked. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Another splatter of moisture fell from him and dropped onto the hairs on his thigh. “Yes, sir.”

Gale grinned sharp and toothy, and raised the leg he still held to his shoulder.

Heedless of John’s predicament, Gale turned his face, now lax and blissful, to rub his cheek against John’s ankle. Gently he kissed the bone and mouthed the silk of the stockings, catching that little piece of extra fabric that stretched between the peak of the ankle bone and the flat of his leg between the blunt edges of his front teeth. Just a bite then he let it go, before chasing it with his tongue, swirling around the bony mound and feeling the texture of the stockings.

John had never noticed before with how Gale was so appreciative of every part of him. But he was starting to get the suspicion that his fella might, might, be a leg man.

Gale’s fingers traced down the line of the seam, humming in approval at the military precision of its straightness. Resting John’s leg on his shoulder, he thumbed at the crook of John’s knee with one hand, and with the other kneaded the tense, hard muscles of John’s calf.

The noise John let out was wounded and obscene. “Holy—fuck, Buck. Oh…God that’s good.”

Gale continued to take John apart, teasing the tension out of his muscles and pushing mercilessly down on any knots he found. John was dragging air in through his teeth, whimpering and yelling when Gale locked on a particularly tender knot. And the whole time a constant trickle of viscous, warm pre dropped from his cock and collected in valley of his panties. It had built to the point that every time he shifted, he felt the sticky, squidgy mess against his balls and his taint. He was wet like a woman and Gale hadn’t even touched him there yet.

Gale pressed those lush, plump lips of his in an adoring trail up the inside of John’s leg. He licked and bit, careful not to snag the stockings. When he reached the hem, where black silk gave away to the creamy paleness of John’s thigh dotted with glossy black coils of hair, Gale moaned low in his throat and pushed his face into the crook between thigh and groin. John desperately snatched Gale up in the vice of his thighs and tried to drag him closer to his cock. And for one glorious moment, Gale allowed it. He tipped open-mouthed onto John’s satin covered cock until he could feel the lapping of Gale's tongue against the panties.

“Fuck, Gale, please. That’s it—right there.”

Gale moaned against him and the vibrations kicked John's belly to quivering and his thighs starting shaking, too. God he was going to embarrass himself but it’s be worth it. So fuckin’ worth it—

Gale tore his face away, breathing heavy and climbed back up the length of John's body. No mean feat as John, furious and choking on his own arousal, tried to drag him back down with the power of his legs alone.

But the kiss Gale gave him soothed him some, filthy and wet and slick, and with none of the finesse they’d learned over the years.

“John,” he rumbled into the underside of his jaw. “God, the things you do to me.” He rolled his hips hard against John’s, and his belly dropped so sharp he was sure he was about to come.

“Gale. I—I—”

A piercing sting nipped at the lobe of John’s ear then Gale’s voice was murmuring against him, sending tremors down his body. “You’re right there, aren’t you, John? Right fucking there. Me too, baby. Know how good you look? Fuck, me too.”

But just as John teetered on that precipice, as his eyes blurred with tears of pleasure, Gale stopped and pulled away, and John let out an embarrassing squeal.

“No! No, no, Gale, I was—I was—”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Gale soothed him, petting hair damp with sweat. “I know.” He rained kisses along his forehead. “Just a little longer, yeah. Wanna get a good look at you.”

He dropped a final kiss to John's nose and leaned back, kneeling between John’s thighs high on his waist, thumbing the sides of the panties.

“I’ll be sorry to lose, ‘em.” Gale eyed the thick band at the top of John’s stockings, lingering on where the clips bit into the fabric and pulled at them, keeping them up. They’d performed a valiant service this evening, but their time had come. “But I think you’ve been patient enough.”

With a fierce yank, the render of ripping fabric pierced the room as Gale yanked the clips out of the stockings, ripping the delicate silk. It tore another groan out of John and seemed to finally unseat Gale’s patience. He shoved the garter belt higher up John’s waist, and tore his stockings down, deepening the rips. The way Gale’s hands tightened over the split fabric, John came to the heady realisation that Gale had done it on purpose.

And then finally, finally, Gale tucked his fingers into John’s panties and pulled them down.

The air hitting his cock had John gasping and thrusting into nothing. He heard Gale choke on his own breath before he pushed John’s hips down with his palm, soothing him like he would an animal.

When John could focus enough to look at him, Gale was gazing at him with nothing short of wonder.

“Shit, look at you John.” Gale marvelled over the mess he’d made of himself. “You look like you’ve come already.” God, he might have. This whole time leaking in a steady stream of unbearable heat, maybe he’d been coming the whole time.

“Gale for God—fuckin’ please. I can’t take this. I can’t take this anymore. I’m begging ya. I’ll do anything.”

And Gale, eyes wide and brimming with something heady, something he kept banked and rarely let blaze out like this, and looking fucking ruined for it, shoved the blunt of his knee up into John’s crotch. The perfect mixture of blinding pressure and the tiniest pinch of skin, and John was writhing and thrashing, getting every ounce of friction he could take. He didn't even know what sounds were coming out of his mouth—babbling, whining, shrieking, it didn’t matter so long as Gale didn’t stop.

And thank God this time he wasn’t going to. Gale’s own crotch was mercy to John’s frantic, frenzied movement. He trembled down the length of his spine and the slender curve of his legs. His arms shook where he held himself over John. He felt his lips quiver as the heat bubbling in his gut frothed and spat and he felt the tingling at the base of his spine that told him his end was coming. But God, he’d see John there first. He would.

He weaved a hand into John’s hair and yanked his ear up to his mouth. “You’re so goddamn beautiful baby. My woman, getting all pretty for me? I nearly came at the damn sight of you. While all the fellas at college are complaining about their girls, I get to tell them how mine fed my favourite meal and served it in silk.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Buck.”

He felt the solid lines of John’s body start to lock. His back arched in a deep valley. All tell tale signs Gale knew like a bedtime story.

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it, sugar. Y’look so pretty when you come. Lemme see. Let me—”

For all John’s loudness, Gale had worked him past words. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his lungs ceased to draw in air, and his eyes rolled up past thick lashes as he finally came. Hot spurts of seed lashed over his belly, and Gale drooled at the thought of cleaning him up, a line of spit pooling down into the mess. As Gale kept rocking and pressing into him, John kept coming. When finally dragged in ragged gasping breaths, there wasn’t a bit of him that wasn’t shaking. Gale didn’t want to miss a bit of it, but he was barely able to undo John's bonds with one hand, so he could feel John's touch on him, before his own orgasm hit him. It felt as violent as being torn from a plane. His vision whitened and he used John's body, his jerking, twitching, vulnerable spent body to ride out and milk every last drop from himself, until he mewling, pathetic and sensitive.

John was petting his hair and whispering in his ear when he came back to himself.

“It’s okay. That’s it. I’ve got you. You did so good, Buck. That’s it. You back with me?”

Gale nodded into the crook of John's neck and snuggled closer. He powered through the flinch that rocked both of them as the sensitive skin of their cocks brushed. But nothing could pull him away from John at this moment.

John kissed Gale’s hair and without even looking, Gale could feel the grin against his scalp.

“Happy birthday, Buck.”

“Mm.” Gale felt the loose, hazy drag of sleep put weight in his limbs and on his eyelids. He let them droop shut, but before he let sleep and the warm cradle of John's arms take him, he managed: “John?”

“Mhm?”

“We’re going to need more stockings.”

[firefly-in-darkness]

Hopelessly Devoted

Pairing → Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary → You visited the Harvest Festival and your boyfriend, James 'Bucky' Barnes surprised you.

Word Count → 1.3k words

Warnings → none, fluffy lovey dovey stuff.

Beta → none.

Prompts/Bingo Cards

AFG Square Fill → Grease AU - @anyfandomgoesbingo

AF Fluff Square Fill → Carving initials in a tree - @anyfandomfluffbingo

Sebastian Stan Square Fill → Blindfold - @sebastianstanbingo

Writer's Note → Well, it's been a while since I wrote anything, let alone shared it on here. This was something I had written last year and just gone over it briefly so hope you enjoy it.

Summer was fading; the sun was setting earlier, and the cool breeze was picking up. Bright greens, blues, and yellows disappeared and replaced with oranges, reds, and browns. Fall was fast approaching, and you didn’t mind one bit. Cozy cardigans, knitted stockings, roaring fires, and hot chocolate were calling your name.

The town’s Harvest Festival was in full swing; pumpkin patches, hayrides, corn mazes, and even hosted a fairground with a Ferris wheel and arcade games. Everyone from town was there, including you and your cousin, Danny. Who had conveniently just left you to show off his bowling skills to his girlfriend, Sandy.

"Hey Doll," the low timbre sent a wave of giddiness through your body.

"Hey yourself," you turned to James and returned his lopsided grin.

James was wearing all black and the trademark T-bird leather jacket. His hair wasn’t as slicked back as earlier. It was a little fluffier, and you prefered it that way too.

He presented a small stuffed teddy bear, "Told you I’d win something for you before night fell."

"And how much did that cost you? I bet the amount you spent would have bought three of these from the store!" You wrapped the bear in your arms as you teased your boyfriend.

"Where’s the fun in that?" He puffed out his chest in faux machoness, "Gotta prove my worth to a Zuko."

You giggled as he exaggerated and flexed his biceps. He turned his head to the side, and you kissed his cheek.

"Thank you, I love it."

His eyes sparkled with mischief, "Let's get out of here."

"What are you planning, mister?" Your eyes narrowed at him in jest.

“Follow me.”

Your gingham skirt and petticoat fluttered out and around you with each step as you skipped to keep up with James' longer strides. You bypassed the bright and colorful fairground. The laughter and joyful screams echoed with each stand and ride you left behind.

James didn’t stop at the coconut shy to show off his throwing skills or the Ferris wheel to charm you with whispered sweet nothings and to kiss you at the top. Instead, he diverted you to the exit and straight to his car.

James held the door open for you as you gathered your skirts and climbed into the car. He raced around the front with a massive grin, slid inside, and handed you the soft blue tie he had worn to prom last year. You'd only been on a couple of dates by the time prom had come around, but he'd made your heart swoon at the gesture of matching the color of your dress.

"It’s a blindfold. I want this all to be a surprise,” the quick explanation eased your confusion.

You nodded and placed the material over your eyes. It wasn’t thick enough to block out the light but obscured your vision enough to not see much in front of you. You tried to tie it but fumbled. James’ hands covered yours and took over.

“Are you going to tell me anything?”

"No, Doll. It will spoil it, but we'll be there in about 10 minutes."

Butterflies erupted in your belly, excited for what lies ahead. You thought of all the places that could be nearby and what the surprise could be. Maybe you were going to have one of those giant sundaes at Frosty Palace, or you were going to see a movie at the drive-in.

The engine started, and you released a small yelp. James laughed as you tried to regain your composure. The familiar sounds of the crackling radio filled the car. You relaxed against the leather bench and enjoyed the sounds of Bill Haley and His Comets.

The absence of Bucky's touch was brief as he held your hand while he drove. You're sure he could hear the race of your heartbeat, but you didn’t care. 

The car pulled to a stop, and you heard Bucky open and close the car door before opening yours.  A cool breeze wrapped around your exposed calves, and a shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t long before Bucky's warm hand took yours. You climbed out of the car as gracefully as possible. A slight snigger from Bucky had you doubting how well you achieved that.

You focused on your other senses and tried to work out where you were. The soft ground under your pumps meant you weren’t on the sidewalk. Birds chirped above, the slight rustle underfoot and the sweet scent of flowers wafted around. You almost screamed at the feel of something tickling your legs. You managed to choke it down but earned another snigger from James.

"Barnes, you're cruisin'." You mustered up a stern voice.

You lost James’ touch without a word. Your heart dropped as you reached out to find nothing.

"James?"

"I'm here. Gimme a sec, doll."

Your heartbeat returned to normal, and the fear of being left alone was gone as quickly as it had entered your mind. 

"Okay, I'm going to come up behind you now."

You felt the warmth before his torso pressed into your back. His body encircled, and a not-so-unfamiliar feeling ignited in your belly as he whispered in your ear.

"Hope you like this doll. You deserve the best."

James removed the blindfold, and it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the fading sunlight. Slowly, you looked out over the golden meadow. The blanket, a wicker basket at one, and James’ leather boots on the other, at the foot of the oak tree made your smile widen.

You turned to James with your hands on his chest, "A picnic? For me? Oh, you shouldn't have."

He smirked and lightly kissed your forehead, "I definitely should have.”

Your head rested on Bucky's lap, his arm draped across your waist underneath the makeshift blanket of his leather jacket. Stomachs full from sandwiches and treats. The peace of being close to one another brought unbreakable smiles to your faces.

"Y'know what, doll, I'm so glad Ma moved out of Brooklyn last year. I miss home. But I’d never have met you if I hadn't come here."

You grinned up at him and caressed his cheek, enjoying the scratch from the stubble on his jaw. James leaned into your palm and peppered a kiss there.

His face contorted away from adoration to neutral in a flash. You might have missed the shift if you didn’t know him as well as you did.

“What you thinkin’ about stud?”

“Nothing, it's silly,” his cheeks tinged pink, and he looked away.

Gently, you turned his face towards your line of sight, “This is silly.”

You pulled a ridiculous face with your eyes crossed and tongue sticking out while rocking your head from side to side. James chuckled, and the crinkle of his eyes warmed your heart.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I’m hopelessly devoted to you,” He whispered back and kissed you once more.

After you enjoyed the last moments of the sunset, Bucky helped you to stand up. You brushed your skirt down and draped his jacket over your shoulders. Then you heard the sound of clicking and scraping.

You followed the noise to find James braced against the tree trunk. You unashamedly gazed at how his muscular arms and back shifted under his top. The propped foot at the roots gave an enticing shape to his behind in the already tight black denim. You almost missed him calling out your name.

Bucky moved away from the tree, closing and pocketing the pen knife to reveal his handiwork.

Yours and his name inside a heart, etched into the bark, for all eternity.

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[sstan-hoe]

𝒊𝒊. 𝑺𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒔

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — ceo!bucky barnes × baker!fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — meeting him might be the best to ever happen to you. He showed you things you've never thought you'd try, he learned you to stand up for yourself and be confident. For Bucky Barnes you were an angel, a savior and maybe the one he's been searching for all his life.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — light smut, fingering, heavy making out (at least I hope I wrote it good), Bucky Barnes

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — reblog, follow and/or comment | next chapter is gonna be filthier and it will only get more filthy as the story continues

The date with Bucky was sat and you had no idea what he had planned. After you asked each other out he gave you his number, he asked you when you got off work and after that you constantly texted.

He asked you about your cats which developed into you sending him pictures every day, but Bucky never complained, no he absolutely adored them. Bucky also texted you details regarding the date, 6pm, casual, I’ll pick you up sugar.

Now you stood in front of your closet with no idea what to wear, you looked at James and Django who sat on your bed.

“What should I wear? Like, what’s casual to him? He’s like this god-looking man who wears suits and probably lives in deluxe apartments,” you sighed while sliding down against the front of your bed.

James stood up and walked towards you, he butted his head against yours before sitting himself down, his paws hanging off the bed. Django followed him and sat on the other side of your head, “now what do you two think huh?” you asked them while leaning your head back.

Django seemed to understand you and jumped off the bed to your closet. He walked inside and sat beneath a black suit jacket, James followed him but instead went to one of the drawers which had all your pants inside. You catched on, on what they were doing and got the suit jacket from the clothes rail along with the matching dress pants.

“What would you guys say to a blood red turtleneck?” you looked at them and they blinked at you, nodding with a smile you took that as a yes. Taking off your previous clothes your gaze found the mirror and you looked down at yourself.

“Should I wear a matching set?” At the moment you had normal panties on, not the sexy kind and no bra. Your cats - if they could - looked helpless, you pressed your lips together in response.

“I’m just gonna put one on, however we wouldn’t not on the first date, right? But god this man…,” you gave a heavy sigh, “I don’t know what it is, but with him everything feels right you know?” For the first time in forever you weren’t unsure of this date, nervous? Yes. Scared or uncomfortable? No. You’ve never been surer of a date.

Following the feeling you decided on a matching set and that was when you noticed you only had one matching pair. Confused, you searched for more but there was not one pair.

“I thought I had more…,” you said to yourself, well in the end it was no surprise. These sets were expensive enough and you weren’t made of money. “This one it is then,” you decided and put on the magenta-coloured underwear.

One glance at the clock above your bedroom door had you jumping up, it was already five thirty meaning you only had thirty minutes left to get ready. It also meant you had no time to sit in front of the hairdryer, however that didn’t mean you wouldn’t turn him on. Gathering your clothes, you run into the bathroom where you started brushing your teeth again, brushing your hair.

You clipped a few of the front pieces back and lightly curled your hair at the bottom. Meanwhile James and Django had entered the bathroom, James made himself comfortable in the bathtub while Django took place on the window stock.

Turning your phone on your eyes widened, fifteen minutes passed, and you were still in your underwear. “Shit, shit, shit,” you cursed. Quickly you slipped on the dress pants and turtleneck. For the perfume you decided on one with top notes of sugared petals, mandarin, and warm berries. It had a rich touch to it even though it wasn’t expensive.

With silver earrings and matching necklace, you rounded the look up before slipping the suit jacket over your arms. You one last look in the mirror and you were ready to go.

Turning the hairdryer off the three of you walked to the living room, patiently waiting. Okay maybe not patiently.

A knock on the door caused you to jump from the couch and run towards it, above your door frame was another clock which showed that it was six o’clock, sharp. You took a deep breath and opened the door revealing Bucky.

He had a charming smile on his lips and wore a black suit - like you - and a white dress shirt, in his right hand a bouquet of red roses. “Hello sugar, you look gorgeous,” he complimented you before kissing your cheek. Shakily you took the flowers and grinned shyly, “hey,” you squeaked and mentally slapped yourself.

The roses would get a special place on your kitchen counter, “come in!” you called out to Bucky. Carefully the brunette followed you inside, he closed the door behind him and was immediately greeted with two Maine Coons.

“You must be Django,” he said to the darker coloured cat who rubbed his head against Bucky’s hand. You told Bucky that Django was more outgoing than James and friendlier around new people. “And you're probably James huh? You know, your mom doesn’t know that yet…but we’ve got the same name buddy,” the last part Bucky whispered to the brighter coloured cat.

James sat a few feet away from him and watched him closely, Django seemed to like him, but James looked still unsure.

Bucky however was amazed, your cats were beautiful. His cat loving heart was about to explode when Django rubbed his head against Bucky. James slowly approached a kneeling Bucky, he rounded him before sitting in front of him.

He lifted his paw and Bucky smiled, taking the paw, “hello James, nice to meet you,” he said. Only seconds after the paw was pulled back and you entered the room again.

“I see you're making friends,” your smile was huge. You saw Bucky interact with your cats from the kitchen and your heart melted at the sight. Bucky got back on his feet to take a better look at you.

The suit you wore fitted you perfectly and the red top made your eyes shine, “have I told you, you look beautiful already?” he asked with a sly smirk, standing in front of you.

“No, I don’t think so…,” you played along. All the nervousness had left your body and you felt more confident talking to him. Bucky pulled you close by your waist, “you’re beautiful,” he whispered against your lips.

Your eyes closed, ready for him to lock his lips with yours instead you felt his body move away from you and a gentle hand laced around your chin.

“When I kiss you sugar, it will be more special than this,” he promised and moved his hand to yours and intertwined his fingers with yours. You said goodbye to James and Django with little kisses and a hug.

Bucky lead you out to his car, opening the door for you. Still, he hadn’t told you were the two of you would go.

The whole ride Bucky’s right hand was placed on your thigh, from time to time your eyes roamed over his dominate form. Then your gaze catched his left hand that was covered with a glove.

A part of you wanted to ask him about it but something told you he would open up about to you when he felt comfortable.

The car stopped in front of an expensive looking restaurant, “you said casual! This doesn’t look like a restaurant you would wear casual clothes in,” with wide eyes you looked back at Bucky who chuckled, “it is, don’t worry sugar,” he squeezed your hand.

The both of you stepped inside and were greeted by a dark haired waitress, she looked at you first with a genuine smile then at Bucky with a polite one, “this way,” she gestured you to follow her.

She lead you to a more private booth in the back, the velvet fabric looking just as expensive as the rest of the restaurant.

“A waiter will come any second,” she promised, Bucky let go of your hand to let you get in the booth first. However, before the waitress left, she gave you a thumbs up and mouthed ‘go girl,’ then left.

Indeed only seconds later a waiter came by to give you the menu, Bucky ordered an wine that already sounded expensive before he even read the menu.

You took the menu a little unsure, “it’s okay,” Bucky assured you and took a menu himself. Everything sounded delicious, in the end you decided on a pasta bowl with a glass of water to go with the wine.

“What are you gonna have?” you asked Bucky, “the steak, you?”

The normal and boring small talk started which had Bucky on his knees, he wanted more but had no idea what to talk about. It was the moment he saw you his brain was empty and he wanted to kiss you, feel you but for the first date it might have been to much.

“Sugar? I really like you, but I need to kiss you now. Fuck the special moment, every moment I share with you is special,” his hands cupped your warm cheeks, finally cracking in.

You would be stupid not to give in, without hesitating you closed the gap between you. It amazed you how easy it was to give into him, how confident you were with kissing him. His lips felt soft, like pillows and they he held you.

Bucky felt like he was in heaven, your lips were gentle and welcoming. Even he wondered why he couldn’t control himself around you, normally he was calm and collected but the moment he met you it was over.

His tongue licked along your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth for his tongue to enter. You didn’t fight against his dominance, easily submitting to him. Your hands clasped around his neck to pull him closer to you. You wanted to feel him as close to your body as possible and never wanting to let go. The feeling of him kissing you had endorphins flow through your veins.

The gloved hand kept you on his lips while his right hand trailed down to your dress pants. He unbuttoned it and slipped his hand inside, “wait,” you said catching your breath. Bucky instantly stopped, “everything okay?” he asked concerned, “yeah, but should we do this? On the first date?”

“Well, I’d say we already had a few dates in the bakery,” he countered with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Good enough,” you muttered and locked your lips with his again.What was wrong with you? Never did you have such an immense lust for a man like you did for Bucky.

The CEO’s hand slipped beneath your pink thong, his cool finger pads against your bundle of nerves caused you to lightly moan into his mouth which only spurred Bucky on. He dipped his middle finger into your wetness.

“Did I get you this wet sugar? Tell me was it me?” he asked breaking the kiss, his nose nudged against your cheek. His warm breath leaving shivers down your spine.

He had no idea if you would like this, he had no idea how far you ever went with a man before.

“I want words, good girls listen,” he voice went down an octave as the words left his mouth. “Yes, yes,” you whined and bucked your hips up. This was every wet dream you ever had and nothing in comparison to the vanilla sex the other men gave you.

Bucky entered your tight walls with one finger, moving it in and out before he added a second one. Your walls felt tight around his two digits, he wondered you would feel around his cock.

“So tight, fuck, sugar. I will have so much fun with you, if you’re already this tight around my fingers…imagine how good my cock will stretch you…split you in two,” he curled his fingers against your spongy sides, hitting your sweet spot.

“Bucky, Bucky, please,” you felt so close to your orgasm, closer than you had ever before with a man. You tried to keep your moans quiet as you were aware in which place you found yourself.

Your date however seemed to have no mercy – not that you would complain – he speed up his movements, curled his fingers just right.It felt like ecstasy rushed through your blood, Bucky leaned his head down on your shoulder leaving light kisses.

Meanwhile you rocked your hips with Bucky’s rhythm to create more friction and to finally cum.Bucky knew how close you were and sat his chin on your shoulder right next to your ear, “you want to be a good girl huh? Then be a good girl and cum, sugar,” he whispered and the knot in your stomach exploded.

“Oh, god, Bucky, fuck, daddy,” you moaned and fell into Bucky’s chest, a few heads turned to you but none could see what had happened.

“Mhm, daddy…I like that,” he teased and sat you down in his lap. Full of embarrassment you hid your face in your hands, “I’m so sorry, I’ve never, I don’t do this often,” you tried to explain.

He cocked a brow, “what, have your date finger you on the first date?” he teased which earned him a smack on the chest. The thing you just did seemed to make him bolder, you thought.“

Have kinda sex in public, yeah I don’t do it on the first date either. "Actually I haven’t really done it before…it was always the same in and out,” you head hang low as you came clean to him. It wasn’t as surprising as one might think, at least not to Bucky.

Something told him you were made for him and with what you had just told him, he knew he could show you that there was more to explore.“If you’re comfortable with it…how about you make me a list of things to try and then I will come by on Monday to go over the list with you, that okay sugar?”

You were unsure what to say. It sounded interesting and you felt more than comfortable with Bucky, you also wanted to try new things. However, one thing was bugging you…

“But this wouldn’t be just sexual right? I don’t want that, I want all of you, Bucky,” the confession made Bucky smile and press a kiss to your lips. He was content enough to not let you go and even if you wanted the most boring sex in the world, he would stay by your side. Nothing would make him leave you.

“Oh, sugar. I’m gonna marry you.”

𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑾 𝑴𝑬 𝑯𝑶𝑾 — @smile1318 @wintasssoldier @georgiapeach30513 @alina02 @antisocialwritingx @waddlenut @buckymcu12

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | @sstanhoe-updates blog where new fics will always be reblogged in case you’re not interested in the taglist as it has conditions

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Are they on the Naughty List? Or have they’ve been good all year?Well that’s for you to decide.

Start:November 12

End: December 31

Green > SFW prompts

Red > NSFW prompts

«timeline»

⇀bold is the fandoms i really want. ↼

◇ day 1-7: {Nov 12-18}

Day 1: - Ice Skating- Rocky Rickaby

Day 2: “I can’t believe you did that to Santa…”-Stanley Pines

Day3: - “I made you some hot cocoa.”-Stanford Pines

Day 4:we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party- Logan Howlett

Day5:- Dancing In The Snow-Rocky Rickaby

Day 6:-Sucking on a Candy Cane- Viktor Vasko

Day 7: - “are you really playing christmas music already? it’s barely November” -Mordecai Heller

◇ day 8-14: {Nov 19-25}

Day 8:-Watching the snowfall from inside a cosy house- Dorian Zibowski

Day 9:-“Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better then November?” “I don’t know maybe fucking June?”- Stanley Pines

Day 10: -we got a little too carried away with the Christmas lights, and now suddenly my hands are bound with the lights and oh my god are we about to have sex?-Bucky Barnes

Day 11:- it’s holiday dinner with your family, and oh Jesus where are your hands going?- Stanley Pines

Day 12:-“Do you need help hanging up the Christmas lights?”- Joel Miller

Day 13: -“HAPPY NOVEMBER!” “No one wishes anyone a happy November.” “Well I just did.”-Spencer Reid

Day 14:-one lending the other their scarf to keep them warm.- Mordecai Heller

◇ day 15-21 {Nov 26-Dec 2}

Day 15:-Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’- Dean Winchester

Day 16:Baking holiday cookies.- Overlord!Husk

Day 17:-“The turkey’s not the only thing getting stuffed today.” - Sylus

Day 18:Jingle Bells: Our muses take a sleigh ride-Spencer Reid

Day 19:-Build A snowman.- Stanford Pines

Day 20:-Silent Night: Not a creature was stirring… It’s Christmas Eve and everyone is in bed, except for our muses.- Luis Serra

Day 21:-The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting): Our muses have snuggled for some fireside Christmas dreaming.- Dad!Fiddleford

◇ day 22-28 {Dec 3 -9}

Day 22:-Christmas Decorations- Dad!Fiddledord

Day 23:-“Breasts/thighs are my favorite part to nibble on.” Rocky Rickaby

Day 24:“You know, tying the legs together keeps everything moist.”- Overlord!Husk

Day 25:-Christmas Morning- Dad!Stanford Pines

Day 26:-Hanging Stockings.- Dad!Husk

Day 27:-Reader wearing nothing but a Santa hat-

Day 28:-“Dancing in the snow- Reuben "Ruby" Pepper

◇ Day 29- 35 {Dec 10-16}

Day 29:“You look even more beautiful covered in snow.”- Reuben "Ruby" Pepper

Day 30:-ice skating-Reuben "Ruby" Pepper

Day 31:-sneaking around after the other has fallen asleep to put up their gift.- Aaron Hotchner

Day 32:-“Go on, open it.” - Bucky Barnes

Day 33: Day 33:-“Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!”- Rocky Rickaby

Day 34: -Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe. - Poly Fiddauthor x reader

Day 35:“Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?” - Remy 'Gambit'

◇ day 36-42 {Dec 17-23}

Day 36:-"Why are there so many mistletoe?"- Connor { DBH }

Day 37:spending christmas morning together.-James Sunderland

Day 38:-“Alright, mister. I know you’re the one who keeps hanging up mistletoe everywhere." --Sedgewick Sable

Day 39:-“Thanksgiving is for giving thanks” “And for body slamming each other during the family football match!” - Nico Savoy

Day 40:-The scent of real Christmas trees-Joel Miller

Day 41: -“I’m going to have you stuffed better than the turkey by the end of the night.” Adam {Hazbin Hotel}

Day 42:-“I’m not much of a cook, but I’m good at glazing.” -Stanford Pines

◇ day 43-50 {Dec 24-31}

Day 43:-Cabin Sex { Christmas Eve sex }- Stanford Pines

Day 44: -“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!" Stanley Pines.

Day 45: -“Did you spike the eggnog again?”- Sedgewick Sable

Day 46: “Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”- Dad!Husk

Day 47: - “It’s Snowing”- Rip Wheeler

Day 48: -Peppermint-flavoured everything-Penelope Garcia

Day 49:-wearing ugly Christmas sweaters-Gregory House

Day 50:-“It’s time for hand turkey’s everyone.” “FUCK YES YES!”- Dad!Stan Pines

[thegreatwicked]

50 NSFW Questions: Bucky Barnes

It's been a minute since I've done one of these, so how about we answer some more questions! Bucky is a tricky one to write fairly, and I aimed less for his darker side, the Winder Soldier. So, I'm treating them like two separate entities. Enjoy!

Biggest turn-on? 

Call him Sergeant. Wear his cover. Or, if you really don’t need to walk anywhere anytime soon, greet him at the end of the day wearing nothing but his old service jacket. Bonus points if you’ve got a nice set of heels to go with it. Take him back in time to when things were far simpler but with all the conveniences of modern day living. He doesn’t miss some things from the 40s like cold showers, poverty, and war, but he does miss those victory curls, pencil skirts, red lipstick, and those black seam stockings. Give your soldier a treat with a little taste of home.

Biggest turn-off? 

Anything less than enthusiastic consent. Let’s be real here: there isn’t a thing about you that doesn’t turn this man on. But he cannot fathom anything that tiptoes into the realm of dubious consent. He won’t even read books or watch shows like that—he is not a Haunting Adeline fan. After everything he’s been through, consent is non-negotiable.

But he’s got an appetite and one hell of a sex drive. If he even senses that you’re going through the motions without really feeling it, it’ll send him to a dark place. He’ll cycle through emotions—anger, fear, guilt, horror, regret, self-hatred. He needs to know you want it as much as he does, and he never wants to feel he’s overstepping your boundaries. Just tell him if you need a break—he’d rather hear the truth than ever risk hurting you.

Quickest way to get horny?

He’s not always in the mood, but it doesn’t take much to get him there. If you’re after a fast-track ticket to Pound Town, be bold: tell him what you want in the most casual setting possible. Bonus points if you’re somewhere semi-public. Go in for a quick peck on the cheek—he loves those—but tell him you wore something under your leggings that he’s never seen before, and he’s going to love. Ask if he thinks red is your color, but don’t wear any red he can see. Let his mind do all the wandering.

Give him a kiss, tell him how handsome he looks, and then mention a position you’ve been dying to try. Sure, the other Avengers know what you’re doing; it’s impossible to hide how his jaw clenches or the way he swallows hard while eyeing the exits. Sure, it’s the fastest way to get your soldier primed—but just know, you’ll pay for it later.

Top 3 places to be touched?

You might think the joint where his vibranium arm connects to his shoulder—and while he does like a gentle caress over that scarred flesh, his right hand often gets neglected. A soft stroke down his arm, a massage for those overworked muscles... they could use the attention. And if you want to see your soldier absolutely melt, give him a hand massage.

Then, run your fingers through his hair—gently, though, no pulling. Bad memories, you know? That’s part of why he keeps it short these days. Let your fingers graze his earlobes, and drift down his neck. These are sweet, grounding touches that he appreciates.

But if you’re looking for something a little more intimate? Go for his lower back and hips. Teasing little touches, maybe starting with a hug from behind, and letting your fingers wander over his skin. Watch him dissolve into a puddle with every careful caress.

Do you like the idea of a threesome or a moresome?

Absolutely not. The man may have a drive to put Casanova to shame, but he’s an old-fashioned guy—and once it was just you and him, that door closed permanently. He won’t entertain the idea of anyone else in the safe, sensual space you’ve created. Does he fantasize about maybe another woman joining you? You’d be hard-pressed to get him to admit it, but the real issue here is that he needs to feel safe after everything he’s been through. A whole sexual revolution came and went while he was out doing HYDRA’s bidding, so the thought of bringing in another partner or two? That’s a bit much for him. Still, he does enjoy talking about—and maybe listening to—those fantasies where another lady joins you.

Sex or masturbation?

He likes both, but obviously, if he has a preference, then he’d rather have sex because it’s not just about the orgasm. It’s about the touch of a partner; it’s about more than him. He’s in it for your pleasure too.

Spit or swallow?

 Come on now, ladies, don’t spit. They swallow. And while he’s not one to tell you to do it, consent and all, seeing you on your knees swallowing him down? Well, that just does something to him, and if you think it’s over after that, then you’d be wrong. That’s just the appetizer, and now you’re gonna see that super soldier stamina in action.

Rough or romantic sex?

Romance is Bucky’s default setting. He’ll bring you roses, shower you with compliments, take you dancing, and tell you that nothing shines brighter than the stars in your eyes and when you get behind closed doors? He’s as gentle a partner as they come. He’ll spend an ungodly amount of time focused on your pleasure until you can’t stand it—lots of kisses, lots of declarations of love, and of course, he’s going to call you his girl.

But if you think he has only one setting, you’d be wrong. While he has hard boundaries when it comes to consent and certain activities, he was a howling commando. If you manage to coax it out of him, you could be in for a wild ride. He can do rough as well as romantic. There will be kisses and declarations, but the kisses will bruise, and the declarations will have less to do with love and more to do with you being his. He’ll pick you up like you weigh nothing (because you don’t) and tell you, “Hold on, doll. You’re in for a ride.”

Loud or quiet partners?

Nothing lets a man know he’s doing it right, quite like a partner making some noise. While he appreciates the enthusiasm, if he wanted tickets to a show, he would have bought one. Don’t be loud just because you think he likes it; sometimes, the soft gasps, fragile whimpers, and unabashed moans are all he really wants. That said, don’t feel obligated to muffle those pretty sounds with a pillow!

How much foreplay?

One complaint Bucky has about living in modern times is that everything seems so rushed. It’s a culture of instant gratification—now, now, now. Don’t get the man wrong; it’s nice to be able to get whatever you want at the click of a button. But sometimes, it pays to slow down and smell the roses.

With him as a lover, it definitely pays to take your time because he’ll take his. There’s rarely an intimate moment between you where he doesn’t spend at least 45 minutes working you up. He gets a little bossy about it, too. If he tells you to lay still and be a good girl, well, you’d better! Or not—whatever. He knows exactly what to do with brats. Either way, he’s going to take his time with you, so you may as well clear your schedule. Quickies are not his style—or at least, that’s what he thinks.

How much teasing does he like?

Just enough to get you into a needy state. Unless you’ve been a brat, then a lesson must be taught, and as we’ve established, bucky knows how to take his time.

Hookups or only partners?

During the war, he might have occasionally had a hookup as a Howling Commando, but even those didn’t feel like hookups. Whoever those women were who happened to spend an evening with Sergeant Barnes likely never forgot it. These days, however, he wants stability and a partner that he feels safe with. He wants all the lovey-dovey stuff your grandparents talked about. After 70-odd years of being HYDRA’s murderous errand boy, he’s ready to settle down.

How much kissing during sex?

The only thing that might stop him from kissing you is the position you’re in. Even then, he’s still going to kiss you—just maybe not on the lips. So, expect lots of kisses! If he’s not busy whispering all the things he wants to make you feel, and how he plans to make you unravel, he’s definitely kissing you.

Favorite place to have sex?

He’s not picky, but he likes privacy. No place is better than the warmth and familiar comfort of your bed, where the sheets and pillows still smell like you. But the bed is far from the only place that sees action in your humble abode. Watching movies on the couch? It started out sweet until the movie got a little too boring. The shower is a favorite because he loves the sensation of water cascading down your bodies, although your water bill can get a little high with those two-hour-long showers.

There isn’t a room in your home that hasn’t witnessed a steamy rendezvous. The kitchen counter? Dinner wasn’t the only thing prepared there. And the garage, when he’s working on something that leaves him covered in grease? How could you walk away from that? It just means it’s time for another shower.

Would he have sex in public?

This one will give you trouble for a few reasons, beyond the simplest one—he can be a little shy. You might be surprised to find that out, but don’t forget the conservative world he grew up in; that sort of thing was saved for behind closed doors. Plus, he’s very security-conscious. Living the life he has, with the identity of the Winter Soldier on his back, has made him quite the target, and that concern extends to the people he loves. He’d never risk your safety for a little thrill—besides, you’re his to look at, and no one else’s.

Last place he had sex?

Probably bed; you can count on this man being the one to wake you up with an orgasm. Beats an alarm clock any day. 

Where would he most like to have sex?

Someplace secluded. He wants you all to himself, with no chance of interruption. It’s less about the location and more about the privacy it provides. A fancy hotel with all the bells and whistles? Sure, that’s nice. But a cabin in the mountains or deep in the woods, with the nearest neighbor a mile away? Now that’s more his style—just you, him, and no one around to complain about the noise.

Spontaneous sex, or does he need to be in the mood?

For the most part, if you’re up for it, so is he. And he likes to keep you guessing—is that just a sweet, passionate kiss, or the gateway to a dining table tryst? His favorite reactions are the ones where he catches you off guard. Walking down the hall to put laundry away? Your shriek when he swoops in and throws you over his shoulder? Priceless. Did he plan it, or did the little devil on his shoulder just suddenly have a really good idea? You’ll never know.

Would he go for a hookup at a stranger's house?

Definitely not. 

Biggest kink?

His uniform had always looked good on him, but since the war, it’s been long packed away, with no intention of seeing the light of day again. Why would it? It only brought pain, a reminder of what he lost and what he believes he betrayed. That was, until you stumbled across that vintage trunk in the closet while planning something special for his birthday. Inside, you found his uniforms—still in pristine condition—and a naughty little idea popped into your head. You didn’t exactly know what Victory Curls were, but you knew what a pinup was. So when he opened your bedroom door after calling out your name, only to find you perched on the bed in his old cover tilted to the side, red lipstick, his service jacket, and a pair of peep-toe heels, greeting him with a sultry “Hey, soldier”?

Let’s just say that uniform looks better on you than it ever did on him. But the floor wears it well, too. Suddenly, he’s not feeling so bitter about those old uniforms being out—and he might’ve asked you to pick up some dry cleaning for later. Coincidence?

Is he ok with name-calling?

You’d have better luck beating a dead horse, because the only names he’ll call you are “baby,” “sweetheart,” or “doll.” He’d never call you his “little slut” or anything like that—he’s pretty sure his mother would rise from the grave and beat the daylights out of him if he did. He might call you his “naughty girl,” but the really hard stuff? He just doesn’t have it in him.

Would he do BDSM?

While he knows BDSM is all about trust and respect, he just can’t bring himself to dive in. Deep down, he’s still afraid the restraints won’t unlock, the doors won’t open, and he’ll be trapped all over again. He does trust you, and his respect is rock-solid, but the past left its mark. So, yes, he’s a dom—but one who needs to be, in a way, protected.

Would he prefer to tie you up or be tied up?

This question took some broaching. As mentioned above, it doesn’t matter if the restraints are silk scarves—when he feels resistance in such a vulnerable position, his reaction is immediate. The softest silk feels as strong as vibranium. Tying him up? That’s a no-go.

But when you suggested he tie you up? He looked at you like you'd lost your mind. Yet, with a mental paintbrush in hand, you painted a portrait too enticing for him to ignore: scarves not to restrain, but to keep you laid out for him to enjoy. He knows just how sensitive you are, and while he’d never leave you in discomfort, the thought of you willingly being vulnerable to him… well, let’s just say safewords exist for a reason.

Tread carefully, though. The man was an Eagle Scout—and he knows all the knots. You’re not going anywhere until he hears the word.

Does he like orgasm denial?

It’s not the denial he likes; it’s the audacity. Where the hell did that come from? What happened to his sweet baby girl? Where’d she go, and who is this knockout pushing him into a chair, asking him if he’s going to be a good boy for her? He has no idea, and he can’t explain it. No one enjoys having an orgasm pulled away from them, but damn if he doesn’t want it even more now. Make no mistake, though—you’ve only got this power over him because he’s letting you. So don’t abuse the privilege, and don’t keep this poor guy in agony for too long, because payback is a bitch.

Does he like overstimulation?

After 70-plus years of captive service, where pain was his constant companion, the idea of being overwhelmed with pleasure is nothing short of a revelation. That first BJ was incredible, but seeing his features contort in overstimulation when you decided to spend a few extra minutes on him with that talented mouth of yours? Who needs drugs? That's an addiction all its own. And when you suggested he push you a little bit further, he didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly found he loves watching you fall to pieces, hearing you whine and cry out when it all becomes too much. You might beg and plead for a break, but he knows you don’t really want one—otherwise, you’d have used the safeword.

Does he like pain being involved?

No. Hard no. The most he’ll go for is a playful slap on the ass when you’ve been a brat, or your nails raking down his back. For him, sex is all about pleasure—he has zero tolerance for pain here.

Does he like dirty talk?

This is the kind of dirty talk you might expect to hear in a novel or movie. He doesn’t need vulgar words—hell, the man doesn’t even need to swear to make you squirm. But he knows you go absolutely unhinged when you hear the word “fuck” come out of that charming mouth of his. Truthfully, he doesn’t even need to say anything; he can make you blush from across the room without a word. It’s those eyes of his—when they start smoldering, you just know he’s got something on his mind and won’t hesitate to whisper it to you as soon as he’s finished with his conversation. He’ll tell you in such eloquent terms exactly what that dress you’re wearing is making him want to do and what it’s doing to him. That mouth of his is good for more than just kissing.

Does he own sex toys? How many?

What does he need toys for? He has a vibranium arm. The man is a living sex toy. 

What does he masturbate to?

One part of modern living he loves is sexting—the ability to receive naughty pictures and dirty words in an instant. This guy is a sucker for a steamy photo, and the first time you sent him a video? He didn’t respond with anything but a casual, “That’s nice. Got anything else you want to show me, doll?” And he’s definitely not camera shy either, so just keep those particular messages to yourself.

Multiple rounds, or will he settle for one orgasm?

Super. Soldier. Of course, there will be multiple rounds. Don’t forget to take your B-12 and stay hydrated. 

Does he enjoy giving oral?

Yes. He’s an enthusiastic giver and loves to have such control over your pleasure. He loves the way you taste and how needy you are after some teasing, and then there’s how sensitive you are after one orgasm. The man is a giver through and through. He can be a mance though if you let him.

Does he prefer giving or receiving oral?

He’s a fan of both. While he’s a dom and likes to dictate how things go, he’s a sucker for when you take control and tell him to lie back so you can take care of him. He never asks for it, but you can see it in his eyes when he wants you to take over for a bit. What guy doesn’t love that? And because you love seeing him like this, you make sure it’s more than just a BJ. It’s kissing down his neck and chest, telling him to lie back and close his eyes. It’s soft, teasing caresses that set him on edge. Just as he takes his time on you, leaving no part of you untouched or unsatisfied, you return the favor and then some. Bucky’s never had someone lavish him with attention the way you do, and seeing his chest heaving, his neck straining to look at you, and the way he moans your name? It wasn’t exactly hard to convince him that he should give you the reins more often.

What makes him orgasm the fastest?

Tell him how much you want it. Tell him how desperately you need him to cum for you. Let him know you’re hungry and want to taste him, swallowing every drop he gives you. Describe it in exquisite detail while he’s pounding into you—tell him how much you crave to feel his cum dripping down your legs. Watch as his steady, controlled rhythm descends into chaos; the mental image of you yearning for his orgasm will send him over the edge.

Does he like/do anal/pegging?

Nope! Not at all, it’s equal parts too vulnerable a thing for him and equal parts utter bewilderment. He does not get how a man could enjoy that. 

Favorite position?

Nothing wrong with the good old-fashioned missionary, but he also loves it when you ride him. Just hike up your skirt or dress—he adores when you wear them. It doesn’t matter if he’s on the couch or a dining chair; he gets a thrill from your assertiveness. Walking up to him as casual as can be, unzipping his pants and stroking him to get him hard while slipping off your panties drives him wild. He loves being able to look you in the eye, watching you rock, sway, and bounce on him. He can’t get enough of how you embrace your dominance, gazing down at him with that sultry look in your eyes.

But you know what he loves even more? The way you think that just because you’re on top means you’re in charge the whole time. Not a chance, doll. Not all the time, anyway. Because even though you start on his lap, you can very quickly end up against the wall—and that’s another favorite.

Does he use protection?

Of course. The man is all about boundaries and knows just how awful a feeling it is to be trapped and he would never disregard your wishes if you asked him to wear a condom for whatever reason. 

Does he masturbate with clothes on?

Sometimes, depends how much time he has.

How does he prefer his partner's hair/grooming?

He’s not one to demand you wax or anything like that but you’ve noticed a difference in degrees of things like shaving or grooming. And he returns the favor too.

What does he wear to bed?

Most nights he’s a boxers kinda guy, generally he only falls asleep naked when he’s exhausted.

What does he like his partner to wear?

His shirts. Favorite. Nothing else, maybe  acute pair of panties, sure, but nothing else. But he also loves those little tank top and shorts you wear and he’s no stranger to lingerie, red is his favorite color.

Does he like his balls played with?

Unequivocally, yes. Take your time mid BJ and jus watch him quiver.

What is his sexuality?

Straight.

Does he have extreme or unusual kinks?

If he does, he hasn’t let on yet. 

How often does he masturbate?

Only whenever he can’t have you, so it depends on the missions he’s one. He’s not one to dip into the bathroom is job to jack off, it takes his focus away from the task at hand. But if you’re off on a job and he’s home alone, he may just take a nice and hot long shower.

Favorite toy?

He wasn’t really one for toys but doens’t mind when you ask him to use a small toy on you while he’s driving into you slow, he might even tell you to do it so he can watch.

Does he like roleplay?

Sparingly. He doesn’t like power imbalance scenarios so no teacher/student, boss/employee stuff. But he is a sucker for the ‘welcome home soldier’ scenario, because he never got that when he did get home.

Any festishes?

Probably not because a fetish is needed in order to achieve orgasm, and there are no common demoniators that fit that scenario.

Aftercare?

You couldn’t ask for a better partner in this department. Once the pleasure subsides and you’re boneless in your bed, he stays with you, offering soft kisses and telling you how beautiful you are and how good you are to him. He’ll draw a hot bath and sink into it with you, gently washing your hair. Does any part of your back or legs ache from a position or a cramp? He’s on it; he knows all the pressure points and exactly how to soothe those aches. Need a drink or a snack afterward? Yeah, he’s already thought of that too. Those little brownie muffins you like? Bedside table, Doll.

Does he ever go comando?

Only when he knows sex is on the horizon, he’s propriety and never caught offguard. Sometimes he’ll do it and tell you about it, he can be such a tease.

Phone sex?

Oh, he picked that up really quickly. All it took was your casual question about what he was thinking after you told him you’d just taken a shower and missed him. He didn’t miss a beat in telling you exactly what he’d do if he were there with you. He can be a bit bossy on the phone, guess those spicy pictures and videos you sent greased the wheels.

[dreamoonverse]

ooo can I request a Steve x reader smutty where the reader buys special lingerie for after his mission and he just snaps and fucks the reader and rearranges her guts. like steve gets real horny

Oooh okay! Been a hot minute since I wrote Steve let me see what I can do :-)

18+ no minors! You have been warned

Mentions: Smutty smut as I could make it, praise kink, choking, rope bunny, dominant daddy Steve, possible angst, bit of breeding kink, spanking

Steve had been all over the place this month. Mission after Mission no breaks at all the man was exhausted. He doesn’t get to skip out like the others so it takes a toll on him and he always somehow was alone through most of it, sure he had his team but he had wants and needs….

Who would want him, he has been told he is too authoritative, too strict, uptight. However when he met you, you brought out a side to him he never thought he had. Something about you drove him crazy, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and even he couldn’t focus on missions sometimes. All he thought about was your soft skin, your scent, the way you confided in him for everything God he was in so deep he didn’t care. And not to mention you guys didn’t have sex yet…how was he able to last well until now…

“What about this one nat?” You asked holding up the purple lace lingerie set for Natasha to see. If anyone could help you find an outfit it was her or Wanda but she got stuck on the mission like the rest unfortunately and Nat stayed behind to run some other intel gave her a chance to spend time with you. Not to mention Steve was so adamant about you being safe someone always seemed to have to watch you. Even Bucky and Sam had to at one point which was full of the two of them arguing or all three of you getting into trouble. “Okay definitely buy that but ya need him to be on edge that man needs to be unhinged y/n,” she skims through other sets she wanted Steve to let loose and if that meant they could all escape another mission she was gonna find the right outfit. “This one,” she grabs a Navy blue laced two piece with black straps hooked to stockings with little bows on them.

“Jesus nat where the hell is the rest of it,” your eyes widened you rarely had the chance to wear lingerie and you had at times doubted how you would look in it. It made you a bit anxious to be this exposed especially with Steve he was so ripped and everything about him looked fucking photoshopped why he wanted to be with you, you let that thought fester for so long Nat could see how uncertain you were and she knew how much Steve admired you the man would drool unintentionally when you walked by she knew he was head over heels now he needed to unravel you. “Trust me,” she winks.

————

You came home when it was midday started cleaning around, cooked his favorite meal, you were even able to get a little nap in before you got up and took time to make yourself feel refreshed and confident when you put on the lingerie set. You hoped he would like it but more so on you and the fear he would reject you for some odd reason made you wanna throw it away but you took a breath and found a nice silk robe to put over it. You wanted this so bad the thought of him between your legs…damn made you wet already.

Steve was now headed back to his place Damn he was so exhausted. Maybe he could get you to massage his back again your hands on his back he gripped the steering wheel some trying to calm himself down the man was touched starved.

You were in the room reading when you heard the keys and the click of the door your heartbeat quicken setting down the book. “Babygirl I’m home…” you heard him say made you smile some. “Y/n something smells good…where you at baby…” he called out you didn’t respond before you ditched the robe and open the door. “Y/n are you asl-“ he turns to your direction the bag and keys slip out of his hand. “Welcome home captain…” you bit your lip some leaning in the doorway.

He was quiet his face at first seemed like he was disappointed “You not like it? I can go change…” you start to turn around before you feel a strong grip being pulled back “who and why are you wearing this Hmm…” his breathe against your neck you leaned your head to the side. “I just wanted to surprise you…”

“Well fuck I’m surprised and your in trouble,” he groans biting your neck running his hands down to your sides seeing the laced thong your asscheeks exposed practically. “Bad girl…so naughty your asking for it,” he smacks your ass causing you to whine in response. “Just wanted to please you captain…” you turn to face him a hunger in his eyes you have never seen. “Shh…” he hisses picking you up your legs around his waist before you know it you feel yourself hit the wall gasping some removing his jacket “your so good your gonna be good for me right…let me do what I want…” he starts kissing down your neck pulling down the straps of your bra ripping it off fuck unclipping he thinks to himself he is gonna have his way tonight he knows you want it. Your breasts exposed to him the cool air hitting them your nipples already harden he latches his lips on one rubbing the other with his chest you wrap your arms around his neck leaning your head back. “Steve…” is all you can mutter out. “Mm that’s not my name tonight sweetheart you call me daddy you hear me…or get punished…” he growls you definitely unleashed him. “Fuck yes daddy,” you nod submitting to him those fears of him not wanting you was out the window.

He moves quickly down you biting and licking down your stomach getting on his knees tearing off the straps your underwear he doesn’t care he is so lost in you wanting to hear you scream whatever he wants he needs it. “Mm ste-daddy please I wa-“ you stop in almost a squeal he is already latched on your clit quickly your legs over his shoulders legs spread apart. “Want what? Use your words since you wanna dress like a slut say what you want then…” he growls gripping your thighs licking and biting eating you out fuck you could cum right now but you need him in you “Fuck me! Please I need you in me,” you pant. “Mm beg more…” he uses his fingers not giving you a break. “Daddy please before I,” you tug his hair cumming it’s too late and you make a mess. “Mm you couldn’t wait huh…we aren’t done…” he comes up kissing you pulling on your lip how plump they are so intoxicating. “Steve I don’t know if I have it in me…” you say weak some already .

“Oh you got plenty more in you Babygirl…” he smirks something devious about it makes your pussy throb. He lifts you up carrying you to the bed plopping you down his shirt coming off and his pants cock practically popping out he was so hard…and big. “Mm,” you sit up wanting to stuff your mouth with him you’re confidence elevates “Mm I need to fuck you baby another time kitten,” his voice is deep you lay back your breathing hitches “it’ll fit baby…” he gets up going to his drawer “and I don’t want you in control I am…” he grabs silk ties and a blindfold. “Shit…” you watch him where did he get so…dark but you wanted it just didn’t know this side of him. He grabs your foot wrapping it around your ankle and again on the other side. “Too tight?” He asks wanting you to feel comfortable still so tentative. “No it’s good,” you nod feeling yourself submitting but safe. “Good let daddy do the rest,” he blindfolds you. Your breathing is heavy he doesn’t warn you before you feel him press into you “fuck..” he bites down on your neck. “Fuck yes daddy fuck me…” you whine it burns at first his cock in you “please you gotta move…” you push your head back. “God your tight you like that don’t you…my cock in you all tied up…” his thrusts are so rough not giving you any chance for a break he wants to fill you up.

“This is what you wanted for me to come home and fuck you senseless…wearing that damn lingerie fuck,” you hear him moaning and whining unable to respond. “Yeah that’s right let daddy fill you up fuck I’m doing it raw too baby I hope you took that fucking pill…l” he wraps his hand around your neck squeezing firmly. You are seeing stars at this point “yes I did captain cum in me fill me up…” you feel so close your walls clenching tears soaking through the blind fold before he takes it off “your gonna look at me when you cum you understand me,” he moves harder and faster. “Fuck Daddy! I’m gonna cum, I need to!” You breathe hard feeling yourself unable to hold back. “Come on let’s together come all over cock make another mess…” he struggles to hang on. “FUCK IM CUMMIMG!” The orgasm ripples through you and you scream out. “Oh fuck I’m cumming baby Ahh!” Steve rips part of the sheet you feel him fill you up it’s so good.

Once you two calm down he cleans you both up and lay on his chest he feels so bliss he needed that. “You better buy me another lingerie…” you playfully warn kinda mad he ripped it “Mm I will and I will rip that one off too…” he smacks your ass again you guys were gonna be up all night and he definitely was gonna take his day off tomorrow after tonight