#but falling to their knees over bucky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gutsby · 1 year ago

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Wedded Bliss

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.

You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frankly, you were mortified.

And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”

Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.

You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,

“Put it down.”

You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.

Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.

“Are we done?”

Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.

You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.

“Now darling—” he started.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Light of my life—”

“I’ll kill you.”

Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.

Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.

Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.

His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.

“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”

You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.

“The deal was to get married,�� you reminded him.

“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”

You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,

“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”

That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.

“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.

“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.

At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.

“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.

A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.

“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”

It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.

Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.

“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.

At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.

Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.

Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.

The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.

“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.

“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.

“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”

Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.

“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.

You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’

No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.

What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.

“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”

Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.

“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”

“I don’t fuck strangers.”

Bucky smiled at that.

“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.

Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.

“You like skylines?” he asked.

You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.

“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.

Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.

You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.

“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.

Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.

Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.

“James,” you hissed.

Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why are you undressing me?”

Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.

“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.

The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.

“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”

You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?

“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”

Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.

The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.

“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”

You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.

“James!”

Again with that name.

“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”

Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.

“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.

“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.

Like he’d read your mind.

In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.

“Just let it happen, honey.”

He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.

Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.

Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:

“N-no, Bucky.”

To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.

He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.

“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.

“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”

The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.

Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.

A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.

“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.

His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.

You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.

“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”

His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.

He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.

Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.

And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.

When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.

Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.

He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.

Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.

Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.

“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.

You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.

Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”

In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.

Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?

It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.

You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.

“Open the fucking door!”

He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.

Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.

One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.

You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.

Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.

You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.

“What are you doing?!” he roared.

You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.

He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.

“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”

No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.

The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.

“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.

“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:

Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!

Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.

“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.

Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.

“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.

He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.

“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”

That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.

“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”

His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.

You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.

The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.

“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.

“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.

Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.

This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.

Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

At last, the tie loosened a little.

Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.

“What?”

You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.

“You’re a virgin?”

You nodded.

“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”

“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”

He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.

“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.

As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.

You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.

You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.

Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.

He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:

“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”

Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.

“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.

“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.

For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.

While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.

How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.

Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.

Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.

Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.

Any minute now, he thought with some relief.

Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.

A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.

Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.

You barged in and froze.

“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.

Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.

Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.

Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.

He was only met with silence.

Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.

The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.

“James?”

Your voice almost pained.

A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”

Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.

Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.

Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.

“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”

If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.

Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.

Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.

“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.

Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.

You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.

“James.”

“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.

At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,

“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”

Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.

“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.

You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.

You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.

His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.

Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.

“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.

“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.

“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.

Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.

A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.

He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.

Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.

No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.

“Okay.”

Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.

You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.

Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.

Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.

His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?

When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.

Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.

You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.

Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.

Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.

Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.

You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.

Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?

Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.

Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.

Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.

You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.

He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.

“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”

He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.

You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.

“Keep going, I’m good.”

Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“N—”

“Don’t lie.”

You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.

“Aw hell.”

The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.

He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.

“I didn’t wanna interrup—”

“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”

Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”

Bucky eyed you incredulously.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.

You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.

“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.

“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”

It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.

The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.

When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.

“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”

He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.

When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.

The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?

Bucky paused. Swallowed.

The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.

“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.

Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.

“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.

This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.

“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.

“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.

He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.

“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.

You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.

“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.

Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.

“Doll, I’m so sorry.”

The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.

When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.

The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Stretching so nice for this cock.”

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.

Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.

“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”

An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.

“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.

Your cheeks flushed.

“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”

‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.

“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.

You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”

You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.

“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”

Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.

“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”

You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.

“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.

Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.

Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.

“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.

“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.

“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”

Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.

Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.

You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.

“One more for me, honey.”

You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?

Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.

“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

“Sure you can.”

Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.

His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,

“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”

With a command like that, how could you refuse?

You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.

But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.

It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.

The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.

“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.

You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.

“I love you.”

You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.

“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.

You would’ve liked to speak.

Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.

In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.

The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.

Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.

“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.

When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.

“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.

“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 2 months ago

Text

Sex pollen

A/N: Reader is female, also a mutant with logan like powers. Logan calls the reader princess, darling, and his girl. Unprotected sex (Please don't be stupid and do this). I had a few requests for this, and i figured why not post it on Halloween! Happy Halloween to everyone who celebrates, I hope you enjoy the smut. I worked hard on it, but I'm not the best smut writer, lol. Request are open for Logan and Bucky! And I'm very close to 1,000 followers, so I might try and do some sort of special for it <3

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Logan should've listened to you when you said something was going to go wrong during the mission. "I don't know Lo, I just have this feeling that I can't seem to shake" you whined and grabbed his arm trying to get him to reconsider and have Charles send someone else for the mission, but he just disregarded you completely. He was just too stubborn, too proud for his own good, and it was really biting him in the ass now.

The mission was supposed to be normal, just a quick in and out. Get into the abandoned laboratory, do a quick scan to make sure it is abandoned, and then steal the plans for mutant mass destruction. Simple, something he's done a million times before but as he sits in the jet panting, sweating, nearly moaning in discomfort, he realizes how badly he fucked up. Fuck when is she ever wrong? Why didn't you just listen to her?! He groaned internally as he looked at the time, only a few more minutes than he'd be home in your bed, with you in his arms... with his cock deep in your pussy. He let a loud moan fall from his lips as he started to think of your body, fuck did he need you.

You were pacing waiting for Logan to come back from the mission, "Where is he? He should've been home hours ago!" You were beyond worried and frustrated over the whole situation, technically you knew that Logan would always come back home to you but that doesn't make the wait easier, it doesn't make seeing him bloody and aching easier either.

The front door finally opened and slammed shut. Logan's heavy footsteps could easily be heard echoing through the hall, "Logan!" You rushed to him to start checking for any injuries. Before you could ask him if he was okay, Logan pulled you into a deep, feverish kiss.

Logan groaned as he felt you gasp against his lips; his hands started to wander up your shirt as he walked you to your shared bedroom, trying his hardest not to break the kiss. You are the first to pull away,completely breathless and a bit confused."Logan...fuck baby what's going on?" You asked as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving rough bites in their place. "Need you, need your skin on mine, need your pussy choking my cock" he cut himself off with a broken moan as he starts to grind his throbbing cock into your thigh, making you feel how hard he was. "Princess, please." He begged completely helpless.

You were worried, Logan had never acted this way before, never whined or begged, but you'd be a liar if you said it didn't make you wet hearing his deep voice beg for you.

Logan was pawing at your clothes before he finally decided to just rip them off completely. Before you could whine to him about your clothes being ripped, he silenced you with a kiss and promised to buy a new outfit for you. "I'll buy you whatever you want princess, just need to see you, need to see my pretty pussy." He moans pitifully when he does get a glimpse at your sex. "Fucking christ darlin' look how wet you are, all this for me?"

You nodded quickly and pulled him closer, "Logan please, need you in me, fuck me please I need it, need to feel you deep in me for the rest of the week." Your begging made his knees weak, it sounded like heaven to him, and who was he to deny you of what you wanted.

"Whatever, you need princess," he assured you with a smirk as he pulled away to finally undress completely. Your eyes widen seeing how hard he was, "Fucking hell Lo..." You muttered quietly knowing he would still hear you. "Does my girl need me?" He asked crawling up the bed, kissing the skin exposed as he moved further up your body.

When he finally reached your mouth, he gave you a sweet kiss as he slowly thrust into you. Oh, oh my fucking--! He groaned internally as he felt your warm walls stretch around him. You broke the kiss to moan his name, throwing your head back.

You ended up moving your hands to his shoulder to hold on to him better as he thrusted more erratic, and without noticing, your claws slowly started to appear from your nails. Before you could notice, they ended up digging into his shoulder muscle deeply. An animalistic moan ripped from his chest as he felt your claws draw blood. His hips moved on their own, in and out, into your warmth and out for a split second before plunging back into you faster and deeper than before. It was like his hips were moving faster than his mind could keep up, and the only thing he could think about was you.

Your warmth, your softness, your smell, your taste. You were the only thing on his mind. He could feel his eyes roll back as his orgasm approaches. With his eyes closed, he could feel every inch of you. It was like he could feel each one of your atoms against his.

His eyes fluttered open when he heard you whimper louder than before. "Fuck you're so pretty darlin, sound so pretty for me...need more, need you to cum." He moaned before he could finish his sentence. "I really, really need you to cum on my cock princess, need you to milk me. Take it, take it all from me princess it's yours." He grunted and moved your legs to be over his shoulders, given him a new angle to thrust even deeper than before. You screamed his name as you came on his cock. He leaned down to have your chest press together as he prepared to cum deep in your pussy, "Gonna cum-fuck gonna cum deep in my pussy, keep you full for a while then when it's dripped out, I'll fuck you again to keep you full all over again." His pelvis rubbed against your clit, making you clench around him even tighter than before thanks to the overstimulation he was giving you. Feeling you get even tighter made Logan moan out and finally give in before cumming as deep as he possibly could.

It felt like an eternity before Logan finally stopped cumming. He collapsed on top of you, completely breathless and his limbs felt numb. "Holy...fuck darling" he nearly giggles as he basks in his afterglow, in all of his life he cannot remember a time where he ever came like that. "I don't think I'd ever fucked that good before" he said kissing the bruises that he could reach that was slowly disappearing on your skin.

You sighed happily, feeling his lips on your skin. You started to play with his hair softly as you hummed in agreement. You couldn't remember ever having sex that intensely before. "What did you get into on that mission?" You asked curiously, and he shrugged. "Not much. There was this pink powder that poofed in my face, though." He said as if it meant nothing, "Logan!" You tried to look at him to see if he was drugged in some sort of way but before you could, you could feel his cock hardening inside you all over again.

Logan moved to have you caged between his arms once again and asked with a knowing smirk, "Round two?"

Well how could you say no to that?...

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@aoi-targaryen

@eyes-ofhell

@sad0ni0n

@fries11

@slowlikehoneyyy

@iamburdened

@brisinggamenwearer

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navybrat817 · 3 months ago

Text

Vanilla Frosting

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky takes a call at home and you decide to tease him a bit.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Established relationship, banter, teasing, dirty thoughts, very slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he worships you.

A/N: I blame these photos as they gave me CEO vibes. And @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer . Again, before our couple has Muffin and Bean. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“I thought you said no calls, Boss.”

Bucky sighed and rolled up his sleeves as he looked toward the kitchen. You stood in the doorway with crossed arms and slow building irritation in your eyes. The sight of you always lightened his mood and made his heart race, but that look wasn't a good sign. Oh, he was in trouble.

Some sort of trouble.

As a CEO, he was always prepared to take the fall when it came to his company. Seeing your kissable mouth set in a grim line though? “It’s Steve’s fault,” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.

“Really, Buck?” Steve’s voice rang out from the laptop speaker.

“Yeah, really,” he snapped. When Steve found a partner like you, he’d get why he bent his will to you over everyone else. Hell, he welcomed Steve getting a bit of payback because it would mean his best friend would have found happiness. “I’m sorry, Cupcake,” he added in a softer tone to you.

He didn’t want to take the call, he really didn’t. All he wanted to do was hold you and forget about the stress of work for an evening. He even assured you that there would be no work tonight, but Steve insisted he get on a video chat with some of the executive team. God knew the punk was relentless, but the unimpressed look on your face made him want to fire everyone and start from scratch.

The two of you had plenty of money, so you’d be set if he went that route.

“Steve’s fault, huh?” You slowly smiled after a moment. “Okay. You take the call and I’ll start making some cupcakes.”

Bucky cocked his head with a confused stare as you went further into the kitchen and out of sight. Baking cupcakes wasn't out of the ordinary for you, but you saying “okay” wasn't okay. He knew better. There was no possible way he was off the hook for this. He already had at least ten gifts in mind to buy you once the call wrapped up.

“I love you,” he called after you, not at all ashamed for anyone to hear that as they joined the meeting. If anyone eyeballed him or said an unkind word about voicing his feelings for you outside of the office, they could find another job.

“Love you, too!” You called back.

That brought a small smile to his face. “Let’s get started so we can all get back to our regular evening plans,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

After a minute, he glanced over the monitor as he heard gentle movement in the kitchen. You weren't slamming things around, which was good. You understood how crazy things could get since you were his secretary. It didn't mean he enjoyed taking time away from the two of you and he didn’t want you upset with him. Even if you weren't upset, he still had to make it up to you. He-

“Hey, Bucky?” Your eyes lit up as you appeared in the doorway again with a small bowl. He was certain he forgot how to breathe when he eyed what you were wearing: a new black and white apron. And nothing else. Jesus fucking Christ. “You want vanilla frosting for the cupcakes, right?”

Bucky subtly shifted in his seat as you sauntered further into the room, his throat dry at the sight of you. The curve of your hips, your hardened nipples teasing him through the fabric. Calling you beautiful wasn't enough. Your beauty was transcendent, indescribable. The kind that made the strongest of people drop to their knees. He was a powerful man, but still just a man at the end of the day and you rendered him powerless. And right now he needed to focus on the call, but how could he focus on anything but you?

He cleared his throat when Jack rambled on about something. Or was it John? Who gave a fuck? “Cupcake,” he growled.

“I know I do. Maybe you can frost me later?” You scooped a bit of frosting onto your finger and wrapped your lips around it with an obscene moan. Thankfully he had his microphone turned off. They didn't need to hear your pretty sounds. “Mmm.”

He groaned when you showed him your tongue. He knew it was frosting, but the image made it easy to picture you wrapping your warm mouth around his cock and showing him his release before you swallowed like a good girl. It took a lot of control not to palm himself. Surely everyone would understand if he ended the call now. Why the fuck did he take this call?

Making sure his hand was out of sight, he beckoned you closer with his finger. If he was lucky he could get you to take the apron off, sit in the nearby chair, and touch yourself. Or you could keep the apron on. As long as he could see your glistening pussy. Even looking wouldn't be enough. He had to get his mouth on it, his cock in it.

But you didn't go to him.

Instead, you tsked with the finger you licked and pointed at the laptop. “Oh, no, Boss. You listened to Steve and took the call. Now deal with the consequences,” you smiled sweetly, turning on your heel and giving him the perfect view of your ass as you walked back into the kitchen.

Yep, he was in big trouble.

Bucky's fists clenched as he got back to the task at hand, but he also chuckled. He deserved a bit of blue balls for the time being. He also had to respect the way you played the game, but he knew how to play the game, too. Before the night was over, he’d be back in your good graces. He’d eat one of your delicious cupcakes before he got a taste of you. And he'd remind you that he didn't have the world because of money, power, or any of that.

Bucky Barnes had the world because he had you.

Oh, these two. 🥰 Steve isn't even upset for getting blamed. 🤣 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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daisybvck · 2 months ago

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thinking abt prof!Bucky eating you out in his little office...

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: 18+, smut

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

you had been on his mind for the whole entire day, the hunger inside him so irritating that he had no other chance to break your little rule of not doing anything in public.

now down on his knees and between your thighs, he’s messy being and he’s being sloppy – he’s got your slick running down his chin as he fucks you with his tongue, and his glasses keep fogging up from the way he keeps burying his face into your warm cunt. he’s like a starved beast, devouring you as if you’re the last meal he’ll ever get to eat.

with your free hand, you tug at his roots and it only makes things worse for you because the action makes bucky groan into you and the vibrations that sends all over your body are so intense that your eyes go cross.

voices coming from the hallway fall deaf to your ears, your mind solely set on your sweet professor’s tongue. he moves his whole head, not just the muscle, and soon enough you’re guiding him just the way you like with the hand in his hair.

you can’t keep your hips still either, grinding into him every time you push him against you. and he lets you do it. he lets you do it all.

Bucky isn’t ashamed to get on his knees, nor is he ashamed to let you use him for your own pleasure – despite the fact that it was his aching cock that got the two of you into his situation, he’s more than willing to forget about his own needs as long as he knows that you’re feeling good.

he loves the way your brows furrow and he loves the way your chest rises and falls. he loves to watch beads of sweat form on your forehead and he loves to watch you try and muffle your moans. he loves the way your body keeps on twitching and he loves the way you keep clenching around him. and he fucking loves the way you taste.

his cock throbs under the layers of clothing, just begging to be set free but Bucky refuses to take his hands off of you.

he’d rather suffer from actual blue balls than to give you any less attention than you deserve. his boxers are ruined with his pre-cum, his balls full and heavy, as he gets off on the mere sight of you. he reckons he’s never been this fucking hard before, better yet this close to cumming untouched, and he’s sure you’ve actually bewitched him. not that he’s complaining though.

you make him feel alive.

hell, he'd go to fucking war for your pretty little smile. when you give his roots a particularly rough tug, he knows you're close. so, he lets go of one of your thighs and brings it to your pussy instead; latching his lips around your sensitive clit, he sucks on the nub while lining up his two digits with your weeping hole.

the face you make when he pushes them in is fucking priceless - your lips part in a silent moan, your eyes screwing themselves shut as you approach your high.

using his middle and ring finger, the professor makes a wave-like motion inside you and suddenly there's a weird type of pressure building inside you, making your eyes shoot wide open again.

"ah! fuck- wait!" your broken whines are like music to his ears. "gonna- gonna make a mess!"

you paw at his head in a weak attempt of making him back away but to no avail, if anything he presses himself even closer - his fingers are so deep that they're touching places you didn't even know about and his lips are so soft and his tongue so warm and skilled and the band in your tummy gets tighter and tighter with every passing second.

Bucky takes his mouth off of you for only a fraction of a second. "make a mess then, doll, c'mon."

your glassy eyes meet his dark, lust-filled green ones and the determination pooling in them is the last push you need to finally unravel. your back arches off the chair and you can't hold back the loud moan that forces its way out from the depths of your lungs.

Bucky’s shirt gets completely soaked when you squirt all over him but he doesn't stop. the liquid seeps through the flimsy material and he can feel it on his skin, and fuck, is it hot.

a tear runs over the apple of your cheek and Bucky itches to kiss it away. your lip wobbles as you writhe in utter bliss, mind all hazy from the overstimulation.

as the wave of pleasure flows through you, the exhaustion finally settles in, making you drop your hand from his hair.

but before it can go any further, Bucky takes it into his. with his arm still under your thigh, he just presses it into your side and just keeps it there.

he helps you ride out your orgasm and the thought of not stopping, of going further, floods his brain - he wants to make you do that again, he wants you to make an even bigger mess but the clock on the wall behind you is clicking awfully close to his next class and he can't put either of you at any more risk.

hesitantly, he pulls his fingers out of you and tears his eyes from you to look at your abused hole. he groans at the sight of it and then he's already leaning forward to get one final taste. swallowing a whimper, you do your utmost best to stay still and to let him have his little reward.

he pushes himself off the ground, grinning from ear-to-ear with pride blooming in his chest as he looks at your disheveled form. biting your lip, you reach for him but are barely able to ghost your fingers over his bulge when he's stopping you.

"no, but...?"

Bucky’s lips smash against yours in a sloppy, haste kiss. and then he's pulling away again.

"Y'gonna suck me off while i give class, hm?" he teases while brushing some damp stray hairs from your forehead.

"i would."

Bucky’s heart stutters - no, it fucking stops working for a few good seconds. he stares at you with his lips parted and you get to watch in real time how the tips of his ears grow red again.

"don't- don't fuckin' say that." he grumbles at you, averting his gaze. "shit."

you laugh at his reaction but don't let him go away too far, tugging on his belt loops to bring him back. "yours or mine, professor?"

"mine, hm? i'll make ya something to eat."

cocking a brow you tease him a bit more, unable to let any of the opportunities go to waste. "like real food or...?"

he gives you a real professor-like look and you boop his nose. he lets you do as you wish but then he's wrapping his fingers around your wrist. "real food."

"okay."

"yeah?"

"yeah."

there's a moment of silence between you. the most comfortable kind. neither of you look away from each other's eyes, smitten and a bit giddy. excited.

"go change your shirt now, mister."

you poke a finger at his chest and almost cringe at the big wet stain you've given him. "wait, do you just have a change of clothes here with you?"

"no."

you cock a brow. "no?"

"Tony- i mean, mr. Stark, will bring me something."

"what the hell will you even tell him?"

"spilled my water." Bucky’s voice is calm as ever, deep and raspy, and all you want to do now after he's been so good to you, is to cuddle with him. "don't worry about it, doll, yeah?*

with a nod and a quiet hum, you comply. he leans to give you another kiss and an ass squeeze and then he's bidding you goodbye with a smug grin as you straighten out your clothes and collect your belongings before making your way out of his office.

you give him one last wave and disappear into the hallway, leaving Bucky standing there with a raging boner and a squirt-stained shirt.

he is not complaining.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #blurb #smut #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel smut

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downbadf0rficppl · 11 months ago

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pink in the night

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Porn with a bit of plot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, soft Buck, SMUT!!!!

AN: Sorry y'all! It's kinda a bit shit but listen, it's self-indulgent so idc :) This is kinda inspired by 'Pink in the Night' by Mitski which I was listening to while writing this. Have a good rest of the week, y'all <3

Repost

Bucky had a love-hate relationship with being your neighbour. On the one hand, he loved seeing your face as you left your room every morning, hair not yet slicked to perfection, and sleep still evident on your face. You seemed a lot more innocent in the morning - conversations more idle.

On the other hand - and perhaps as a downside to his more sensitive hearing - you drove him crazy with the knowledge of things that perhaps he wasn't supposed to know.

This night was no different. You had headed off to bed after a long day, bidding everyone in the kitchen a good night. You grabbed a water bottle before slipping into the elevator, Bucky not far behind. You stepped out of the elevator together and you wished him sweet dreams before slipping into your room. Oh, his dreams were going to be far from sweet.

You see, your beds were pushed up to opposite sides of the same wall, so he could hear you relax on your bed. He could hear you shuffle to strip into just your underwear, and how your hand slipped into your panties. He could hear how your breath hitched as you circled your clit, and your soft moans as you plunged your fingers into your cunt or as your vibrator dipped in between your folds.

He could almost envisage you doing it - a forbidden porno that took root in his mind every night that he heard you finger yourself to completion. The rosy pink flush that you would glow as you came all over your hand. Your heavy rise and fall of your chest as you came down from your high. The small smile that would adorn your face as rolled over to fall asleep - the oxytocin released coursing through your veins.

He felt disgusting as he did - one of those creeps that he intended to protect you from for the rest of his life. But after you'd fallen asleep, he'd hop into the shower to cool his body and his mind - to throw the detestable thoughts of you to the far corners of his mind. But as he fell asleep, you'd re-enter his mind in a different way. A more safe-for-work way. You'd be in his arms, cuddling him and whispering sweet words of encouragement. You'd be cooking him dinner while he told you funny stories about his life with scrawny Steve in the 40s; he'd be washing the dishes while you sat on the counter tell him about your day. He'd worry for your well-being - not as an overbearing coworker but as a loving, doting boyfriend. Maybe husband.

Bucky was getting ahead of himself - he'd have to work up the courage to have more than a few-word conversation with you. But for now, wishing he could hold your hand would have to suffice.

Being Bucky's neighbour was not much easier. Especially when he was completely oblivious to your plight. Even the slight brush of a hand made your heart flutter.

You loved seeing him early in the morning - he always seemed less reserved when he was fresh from a good night's rest. He was faster to smile, faster to laugh. It was nice. You woke up at an ungodly hour to see him just before he headed on his morning run. You couldn't deny that the morning light did wonders for him - you were always left wanting more when he dipped into the elevator.

Oh, and the sounds. Your hearing was not quite as superior as Bucky's, but you definitely heard things that left you clenching around thin air.

You knew Bucky wasn't one to self-complete often - in fact, it was rare that you ever caught on to the act. But you had caught the odd broken moan coming from his room. You turned into molten mush, the weight of your arousal buckling your knees. If there was any sound that could turn you to putty, it was that.

You didn't how many times the idea of Bucky fucking you had played through your mind, but each night a different variation brought you the same ending - your fingers deep in your cunt, coaxing you to a climax.

Every night, you wished his cock, tongue, fingers were filling you up instead of yours, leaving you aching and wishing for more. You wanted to run your nails down his back - leaving permanent reminders of your love for him - while he nipped at your neck - leaving marks claiming you as his.

Sometimes, your brain caught up to your thoughts, reprimanding you for your possessiveness. He wasn't yours, you had to remind yourself, even if you wished he was. For that, you'd have to actually have to have more than a few-word conversation with him - which to be honest, seemed impossible. So you stuck to your nightly wishful dreaming, hoping one day he'd be yours. Only yours.

Summer was the worst for Bucky. You were the type to spend hours upon hours out in the sun, coming back with a budding tan and rosy complexion - it did nothing to quell the budding images flashing in the back of his mind. You. Under him. Panting. Moaning his name as he brought you to the edge. Over and over again. Face glowing pink as you gaze up into his eyes, drunk on love and his cock. Bucky had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.

It didn't help that the clothing you wore did nothing to help his imagination. The semi-sheer tops, the shorts, the swimsuit and bikinis. Every time he saw you, he immediately had to duck back inside to deal with 'a little problem'. More like a very large, very hard, and very obvious problem.

Still, he enjoyed your company more than he had for the better part of his time living in the compound. He listened to your stories, your jokes, helped solve your issues. He felt that - even if you weren't quite what he wanted you to be - your relationship was blossoming into something quite beautiful. And that made him feel a lot braver - he introduced a little comment here and there, a hand always on your waist or the small of your back. He flirted with you from time to time: just to gauge a meter on your reactions, he'd tell himself, as if this was an experiment to crack a hypothesis that had been perplexing scientists for years.

The sun was peaking over the top of the trees surrounding the compound when you woke up. That was a rarity in summer, given that the sun rose at nearly 5am. Still, you didn't miss out on the opportunity to watch the sunrise, curling up on your windowsill with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

You heard Bucky opening his door, and you ran towards yours, grabbing your phone and slippers on your way. You opened your door just as he closed his. He was dressed in gym wear - as always - since he was going on his morning run around the compound track. It was a nice track - one that you rarely frequented - going in and out of the forest behind the compound, totalling about 4.5 miles in distance.

He took you in, eyes bulging as they raked over you. You looked down, following his gaze. Shit. In your rush to see Bucky, you'd forgotten that your nightwear had consisted of some flimsy shorts and your bra - that you had thrown on after waking up to save a modicum of dignity, should someone burst into your room. It was too hot for anything else. You crossed your arms over your chest, which indefinitely made the issue worse as Bucky's eyes lifted way over your head.

"Looking good, babe!" Nat yells, walking across the landing toward you both. Clearly, Bucky had been intending to go on a run with her, maybe fit in a quick sparring session. You sent them on their way, with a 'have fun' and 'don't have too much fun.'

As soon as you were back in the comfort of your room, Nat elbowed Bucky hard.

"Oww! What the fuck was that for?" Rubbing his metal arm, for the convincing act.

"Oh please, you big baby. You have a fucking metal arm, get over yourself." She looked down, "You have a bit of a situation going on down there."

He looks down, embarrassment flushing his cheeks bright red, and subtly tucked his hard dick into his waistband.

"You wanna go sort that out? I won't hold it against you," Nat said, hitting the button to call the lift, "I promise not to tell Stark. Scout's honour." She jokingly holds up 3 fingers. Bucky swats her arm gently.

"No point."

Nat gasps, "No way. Don't tell me Mr. Winter Soldier can't have sex."

"Not sex," Bucky mumbles, "Just jerking off. Can't seem to - you know - finish."

Bucky had a history with Nat. They'd known each other for years. That kind of history made this kind of conversation somewhat less uncomfortable.

Nat burst into laughter. So much for not being uncomfortable.

The lift stopped on Sam's floor. He stepped in, gazing warily at the scene in front of him: the Black Widow doubled over in laughter, and the Winter Soldier embarrassed and uncomfortable in the corner.

He begged to be let in on the joke. Nat wheezed between laughs, "He - can't - fucking - cum!" Bursting into another bout of laughter, with Sam close behind, Bucky jumps out on the next floor, heading to the roof for some fresh air. He catches you up there, trying out some morning yoga. He sneaks up behind you as your stand up, grabbing your waist. You shriek, hitting him hard in the chest, before melting into his embrace once your brain caught up to the situation.

"Not fair!" You pouted, pausing your peaceful music, "Yoga's supposed to be peaceful!"

Bucky chuckles, pulling you into another hug, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck.

"I thought you were going on a run with Nat?" You whispered into his ear, your cheek resting on his clavicle.

"She ditched me for Sam." Bucky opted to leave out the real reason why he had left Nat and Sam in pieces in the elevator.

"Sucks to be you, Barnes!" You laugh pulling away and stepping back onto your mat. "Now leave me alone - just 'cause your friends abandoned you, doesn't mean you can bother me."

Bucky pouted, causing you to laugh before you turned back to your Yoga. He stood there and watched you for a minute, before heading back down to the gym. He strung up a punching bag, before wrapping his flesh wrist. Bucky took all his pent-up aggression and frustration out on the punching bag, allowing no respite between each jab, cross, and hook.

He stayed in the gym for over 3 hours, working every bit of stress out of his body. By the time he left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and a long day of paperwork and training awaited. Bucky headed up to his room for a quick shower - washing all the sweat off his body.

He felt lighter heading downstairs for breakfast - the weight of his arousal pushed far back in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

Since deciding he would pursue you honestly, he couldn't seem to finish, no matter how hard he tried. You had been the only thing to push him over the edge - it seemed his body couldn't do it without you. It was frustrating beyond belief. He'd tried other things, porn, erotica, even thinking back to good times before the war. Nothing helped. It was as if his body was finetuned to you - only you knew the magic password to release him. Figuratively and literally.

When he reached the kitchen, he was privy to a welcome sight. You, in your combat gear, grabbing some granola bars before you jumped on the quinjet. You and Stark were heading on a surveillance mission in Guatemala for the week. You were reaching up to the top shelf, stretching on your tiptoes for the expensive granolas that had been kept on the top shelf. Bucky's granola bars that he had put there to stop anyone else from stealing them.

He reached up from behind you and grabbed the box, placing it in your hands. You looked guilty. You'd been caught red-handed.

"It's fine, doll. Take as many as you want." He said, leaning back against the counter, resting on his forearms. Your face flushed red as you grabbed 2 or 3, shoving them into your bag and turning around to fill up your water bottle.

You shivered when his hot breath fanned across your exposed neck, "Just remember that you owe me."

He was gone by the time you turned around.

The rumour had spread like wildfire while you were away.

"Did you hear that Bucky can't have sex?"

"I heard that Bucky can't - you know - cum?"

"Apparently, his time at Hydra fucked him up worse than he realised."

"He can't even masturbate you know?"

The rumours were getting out of hand, but he let them swirl. There was an ounce of truth to them, even if Hydra had nothing to do with his current predicament.

No, that blame could only lie with you.

When you got back, Bucky had just left on a 4-day-long mission with Sam - which meant you heard all the rumours and Bucky wasn't there to defend himself.

You heard it first when you dropped your suit off for dry-cleaning. One of the tech guys was whispering to Marta, the woman who looked after the dry cleaning of suits, about Bucky's apparent inability to ejaculate. You were shocked. Where the hell did they even get that information? You dropped off your suit and headed back up to your room to shower.

You then heard another mention of it when you went to drop off your reports. Two of the agents that were being reassigned to Steve's team - that were currently on a month-long mission in Chad - were gossiping outside Tony's office.

" - and apparently she ran out crying. Thought she wasn't good enough for him or something along those lines. I don't know."

"Yeah, apparently the breakup was grizzly."

"I feel bad for him you know, all of the shit he went through with Hydra, and now this?"

"Yeah, man, really sucks."

Your face blushed a bright red. What the fuck? Where did this rumour even come from? You knew for a fact that Bucky hadn't had a girlfriend since living in the compound so wherever that part of the rumour came from was completely untrue.

You had to get to the bottom of this.

You spent the better part of the next 2 days collecting bits of information from conversations between people around the compound. You found out that the rumour had originated from a conversation between Nat and Sam, which an agent had overheard while they were on their run. It had been twisted as most oral stories were leading to this big misleading idea that Bucky was unable to even get it up and that he was unable to please a woman. You were sure the latter part was untrue. You'd heard the way he moaned alone in his room - you were sure that you could cum just from his moans alone. He wouldn't even need to touch you.

You didn't think the rumour would affect you when Bucky got back. After all, you knew at least some of it to be false. But when he got back, his beard grown out a little because he couldn't shave it while he was away, you felt embarrassed. Not because of his supposed 'predicament' but because you felt as if you had found out something that you maybe weren't supposed to know.

Bucky caught on quicker than you would have liked. The night after he got back, Tony had thrown a little get-together to 'celebrate midsummer'. Realistically, Tony just wanted a reason to go out and drink with his friends. You had avoided Bucky most of the night - not necessarily intentionally, but Bucky still felt slightly hurt and more than a little confused.

He caught you alone on the balcony, looking out at the stars.

"Did I do something?" He said, sneaking up behind you and making you jump. Nervousness and insecurity laced his every move, worried that he had hurt you in some way that he couldn't possibly imagine.

You shook your head violently, scared to make eye contact with him. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"What's wrong?" You turned back to face the sky, embarrassment filling your chest. He laced his metal fingers into yours, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"It's stupid."

"No, it's not. Nothing's stupid, not if it's you." Your heart fluttered at his words.

Your eyes met his steady gaze, "It's really stupid." His eyes begged you to go on, "It's just that - um - when I got back I - um - heardthisreallystupidrumourandIshouldn'thaveletitgettomebutbasically -"

Bucky placed a hand on your waist, drawing small circles, "Breathe."

"Someone said you had trouble pleasing women." You let out quietly. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he probably would have missed you. His grip on your waist tightened, "Bucky?"

"Trouble pleasing women? That's a new one." His deep voice cut you to your core. You let out a small whimper as the arousal pooled in your panties.

Bucky didn't miss that either.

He grabbed your arm and led you through the party. No one gave you a double look as he lead you into the vacant elevator, slamming your floor number and pushing you up against the wall.

"Think I can't please a woman, huh? Think again. Don't think I don't know what you think about when you cum all over your hand, whining my name under your breath." You whined lowly at his words, feeling how he pushed his hard dick perfectly in line with your throbbing pussy, "Isn't that right, slut? That's what you are, aren't you? My perfect little slut?" You moan at his degrading statement, pushing your pussy further onto his cock trying to find some friction.

"So needy," He tutted, his condescending tone only heightening your arousal. The elevator door pinged and Bucky picked you up bridal-style, kicking the door to your room open. You regularly forgot to lock it while heading down to dinner - for once, both you and Bucky were glad.

He dropped you on your bed, unceremoniously, eyes raking over you ravenously. The heat rose up your face, as you shifted under his unrelenting gaze.

"Oh baby, you don't how long I've been waiting for this." He leaned down locking your lips in a passionate kiss. His palm landed just above your knee, caressing up your leg towards your upper thigh. His hand slid under your dress, cupping your ass. He left a light squeeze, making you gasp into the kiss.

He leaned down, grabbing you with ease, flipping you both so you were straddling his waist. He tangled his flesh hand in your hair, the metal one possessively gripping your hip. He brought you down to his lips for another kiss - even when you were on top, he made sure you knew that he was in charge.

He toyed with the hem of your dress, eyes raking over you once again.

"Off."

You pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. You felt seriously underdressed, especially considering Bucky was still in his jacket. He reaches up, joining your lips in another kiss, and reaching around to remove your bra. He tosses it to the side, running his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. You moan loudly, panties soaked. He takes his time pinching and squeezing your nipples, licking and biting as he went. The alternate sensations of one warm hand and one ice-cold heighten your arousal ten-fold. You buck your hips over his jeans, the sensation of his fly between your sensitive folds throwing you into overdrive.

His grip on your waist tightened once again. "I can feel your cunt throbbing, honey." You whimpered pathetically. "Go ahead, use me to get off. I know you want to."

Your hips started bucking off their own accord, clothed pussy running over the fly of his jeans. They started slow, getting a feel for what exactly you were doing. Bucky's hands started pushing you faster, setting a faster groove. The coil in your stomach began to tighten as your bucking became more erratic. You teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Bucky stopped you.

"Beg." He restarted your pace, faster and more erratic than before.

"Please, please, please, please, Bucky, please let me cum, please..-" You babbled, tripping and stumbling through your pleas. With a searing kiss, he gives you permission.

"I love you, I love you, I love, OH-" You fall off the edge of one of the hardest orgasms you've ever had, head empty with only one thing on your mind. Bucky.

You feel Bucky manhandle your body so your back is lying on the bed and he is towering over you. He asks you if you want to go on and all you can do is nod your head vigorously.

He chuckles, "I like your enthusiasm baby, but I need words. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, YES!" You shout, breathlessly, already needing more.

He's fully naked and it's all you can do to not stare. He's definitely a well-endowed man, and he definitely has no problem getting it up.

"Like what you see?" He smirks, and you slap his thigh playfully. He pulls you further toward the edge of the bed and lines his dick up with your slick folds. He slides in slowly, holding your chin up so you keep eye contact with him. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head in satisfaction. You've never felt so full in your life. He presses into you slowly, feeling the way your tightness engulfs him, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You whimper softly as he pushes in - you never realised just how desperate you were for him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He chuckles, watching as tears leak out of your eyes. His condescending tone was back, and all it did was make you hornier. You babbled incoherently, "Gone dumb already? What a cock-drunk little slut you are."

He trails a metal finger up the side of your torso, watching the goosebumps left in its wake. You whimper again.

"Such a needy little baby. Only I can take care of you like this, right? Only me."

"Only you." You affirmed, pressing a kiss to the arm near your head.

He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming all the way back in. You screamed in pleasure, and Bucky set a brutal pace. He pinned your arms above your head with his right hand, and his left hand came to wrap around your throat. The significance of that was not lost on you. He loved you enough to not hurt you, even with his metal arm.

"I love you, baby. You know that right?" Bucky looked you deep in the eyes, "You know I love you right?"

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," You babble back, lost in the throes of passion.

Bucky found your clit with his metal hand, pressing and flicking gently. You felt your muscles tighten for a second time, and you grabbed the sheets throwing your head back as you came harder than the first time.

Bucky came moments later, deep inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself into his neck.

He chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bear hug. You stayed like that for a minute before he untangled himself from you and carried you to the bathroom.

He turned on the shower and you both stepped under it, cleaning the sweat and cum off your bodies. Your legs felt like jelly, so you leaned heavily into Bucky as he washed you off.

"Stay awake, doll, just for a second," He said, shaking you awake each time you dozed off in the shower.

Bucky pulled some of your clothes onto your body, before setting you down on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before promising to be back soon.

He snuck into his room wrapped in a towel, before throwing on the first pair of sweats he could find and dashing to the kitchen for a cup of water.

He snuck back into your room, to see you already dead asleep on the bed. He slipped under the covers, tugging you closer to his chest, and smiled.

Through your grogginess, you nuzzled into his chest. "I love you." You whispered, your lips resting against his heart.

You woke up to the sound of soft snoring in your ear and sunlight streaming through the window. You smiled. You untangled yourself from Bucky's arms, disappearing into your bathroom to pee. You wash your face and brush your teeth before diving back into Bucky's arms.

Your legs were still sore from last night, but you didn't care. You were Bucky's and Bucky was yours. The very thought put a massive smile on your face.

"What's tickled your feather this morning?" Goddamn, his morning voice was sexy. You smiled and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

Bucky smiled through the kiss. He picked you up by the thighs, carrying you while he brushed his teeth and splashed his face.

The compound was pretty silent, barely anyone was awake after drinking the night away. So, while Bucky made you pancakes for breakfast, you asked him the question, "Hey, Buck, where did the rumour come from?"

He looked at you, vaguely embarrassed, "You know that day, when me and Nat were gonna go down to train?"

You face flushed red, "When I walked out in my underwear?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "I got a hard-on, like a teenage boy."

You stifled a laugh.

"So, Nat said, do I wanna go deal with it? And I told her I couldn't."

You looked at him confused, "Why not?"

"Cause of you," he said simply. You looked at him even more confused, "You were the only thing I got get off to. I tried everything else. Porn, erotica, even thinking about old sex. Nothing worked."

You flushed red again. "Oh god, I've weirded you out, haven't I?" You broke off his impending spiral with a kiss.

"I love you." You said, placing a kiss on his bare chest.

He looked at you with such love and reverence that you felt like you might combust under his gaze.

He kissed you again and all you could think was, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

I love you, I love you, I love you.

I love you I love you I love you.

fin.

buy me a coffee

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bukcy barnes #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #bucky imagine #bucky smut

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lostalioth · 2 months ago

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥

→ premise: if bucky was a pill then you were an addict and you wanna show him just addicted you are.

→ pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, cock piercing [jacobs ladder piercing], cock worship, nicknames [sweets, little one], oral [m receiving], small face fucking

→ a/n: kinktober 07

Now to say you were obsessed would be an understatement, you were addicted, captivated by your boyfriend Bucky Barnes. He didn't really understand why, often telling you he didn't deserve all the affection and attention you gave him. Therefore you were determined to show him your level of devotion as well as show him just how infatuated you were with him.

“Just lay back baby and let me worship you” you started explaining to Bucky in a soft tone as an attempt to calm his nerves. Lightly you push at his chest so that he backs up, his calf’s hitting the edge of the couch causing him to tumble back. He feels his whole body fill with heat at the look on your face as he falls back onto the couch. Your pupils blown, eyes lidded and glazed over in sheer lust, tugging your lip between your teeth, almost stifling a small moan at the sight of him. He leans back putting his hands out on the plush cushions, on instinct his thighs widen in a man spread. The new position giving your eyes perfect access to rake over his body, taking in the hard lines of his muscles that peaked through his tight Henley. As you soak in his state, his body responds, hips bucking up as his cock grows hard, his jeans and boxers becoming uncomfortable.

His nerves set afire once again as you sensually and slowly sink to your knees in front of him, your hands landing on his knees and traveling up his thighs to run over his bulge. “Sweets you know you dont have to do this” his cheeks flush in embarrassment as your tongue darts out to swipe over your top lip, you were practically salivating. Now Bucky wasn't the type of man to say no to a blow job obviously but he didn't feel deserving of being ‘worshiped’ as you called it.

“James Buchanan Barnes, shut up and let me appreciate my sexy ass boyfriend and his pretty cock, please?” Your voice comes out sassy and authoritative until the last word practically morphs into a plea. Your fingers are already working at undoing his belt buckle and the button to his jeans. He was growing more and more desperate for your mouth the longer the teasing went on.

“Mhmm yeah can definitely do that for ya’ little one” he rambled out, frantically nodding as his breathing grew heavier. You smile up at him in gratitude, your hands pulling his leather belt out of the loops and peeling his jeans down his legs. He lifts his hips up to aid you, his bulge finally feeling relief from its confines when you strip him of his boxers right after. His cock bouncing free and lightly hitting his toned stomach, a sigh falls from his lips as you take in the sight of it, making his stomach tighten and flip. He wasn't used to being admired in this way, the feeling unfamiliar but not unpleasant. His tip reddened and begging for attention as it leaks precum, your mouth watering as your eyes catch when the light hits his frenum piercings. 8 of them in total, one for every inch line the underside of his shaft making up his jacobs ladder piercing. To make it easier on you, taking all of him during your first time together he had you count each piercing as you felt them push inside you.

While you're lost in that memory, your eyes are still appreciating and committing the sight of his cock to memory as if you haven't seen it a hundred times by now. Bucky lifts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, hunching his body over to lean down and press his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. Prolonging the intimate moment with you on your knees, he cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb under your eye in a loving manner. You hum into the kiss, your body melting at his touch before you pull away, him returning to his previous position.

Your tongue pokes out of your mouth, dragging down his shaft hitting each piercing as it goes. He sucks in a breath, hands gripping onto the edge of the couch cushions to refrain from just jumping to the end with him fucking up into your hot mouth.

“Fuck sweets” he hissed out when you kiss and kitten lick at his balls before licking back up the side of his cock. You grip the base of him while licking at his tip causing his cock to twitch in your hand before you sink your mouth down on him. “Shit~ just like that little one, oh god” he groans out as his head falls back, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. Bucky knew there was no chance of him making it to heaven when he passed but he knew if he did there was no way it’d feel half as good as this.

He softly moans out when you hollow out your cheeks and suck, your tongue running on the underside of his tip. Bucky lifts up his shirt giving your hands better access to rub along and roam his body. Nails starching at his v-line as you sink your mouth further down on him, taking his cock to the base in your throat, counting each barbell in your head. bucky can feel his balls tighten as they sit full of cum, he was already getting close. “S’good sweets, fuck” he breathed out as he rests his hand on the back of your head. He felt heavy as he sat in your mouth, his piercings cold on your tongue.

“Mhm~ please little one, can i fuck your mouth?” He begs, normally he wouldn't ask but he didnt know how much longer you wanted to extend your worship of his cock but he didn't think he’d last much longer. You hum around him in response as a ‘yes’ bracing yourself by grabbing onto his thick thighs. “Thank you, thank you oh fuck” a long string of curses leave his lips as his hips gradually start bucking up, thrusting his cock into your mouth, your spit spilling out and pooling at the base of his cock as your jaw goes slack to accommodate him fucking your thorat.

“Worship me whenever you want little one, this cocks all yours anyway sweets.” He groaned out, his hips flattering in rhythm as the knot in his stomach was about to snap. It would take a while before Bucky felt deserving of your adoration and worship but if this was one of the ways you planned to show it, he could get used to it.

→ a/n: this wasnt proofread and it was rushed as always, its also being posted later than i wanted lmao kinktober is low-key starting to drain me but fuck it. It’s been giving me issues with this post showing up in tags too so im annoyed with it lol.

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malum-forev · 5 months ago

Text

Unexpected

“I can’t believe people actually fall for these kinds of things,” Bucky scoffs, flicking one of the drooping petals on the flower arrangement. “Ridiculous, right?”

He looks over at Sam, wanting some kind of backup from his partner, only to receive a shrug in response. Bucky rolls his eyes, having flowers delivered to the compound seemed so overplayed in his mind.

“No self respecting woman could actually want to date someone who outsources something like giving flowers.” Bucky mutters, his fingers itch to look at the card to see who they’re from. And more importantly, who they’re for.

“Can’t say I agree with you on this one Buck,” Sam leans back on the conference room chair, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. “Flower delivery is a normal thing in the modern world, not that I expected you to know. You’re not exactly the romantic type.”

He tries to not let Sam’s comment bug him, but it does. A lot. Back when he was alive the first time, Bucky was over the top. So over the top that some women’s knees physically buckled when they saw his gifts and acts of love. Sure, some of the things he only did to get into their pants but who cares, they were romantic nonetheless.

Bucky tries to concentrate on your detailed plan for the mission but he’s done this a thousand times and could quite possibly complete this recon mission in his sleep and more importantly, the flower debacle is still present. The plastic vase sitting in the middle of the conference table taunts him. The folded card underneath it was basically begging for him to take a look.

He lingers after the meeting, saying some excuse about wanting to look over the documents when really, his curiosity is what’s keeping him seated.

In his defense, your floor of the compound rarely gets any deliveries, let alone “romantic” ones. At least what people now think is romantic. Apart from Sam, himself and you, the other people on the floor are either married or forever alone. Leave the cheesy displays of affection for the lower level agents, the ones who still get the hots from one look.

Bucky looks both ways, making sure no one catches him as he slips the card from under the vase and reads it.

Thought of you today. Have a nice week.

“Nice week? What a loser.” Bucky blows raspberries, throwing the card back on the table.

“Can I help you with something, Barnes?” Bucky jumps up in his spot as he hears your voice coming from behind him.

“Just reading this extensive report,” Bucky lifts up the corners of the papers. “Great to know you have so much spare time.”

To say you and Bucky have a complicated relationship is an understatement. You think he’s a reckless agent that gets away with everything just because he was Captain America’s friend and he thinks that you aren’t reliable on the field because you second guess everything. Match made in heaven, right? Not a single mission you’ve been on has resulted in the two of you being civil. It always ends with a catfight and both of you trying to one up the other one.

“I don’t have time for this. Right now all I want is to go home and get some rest before we have to leave in a couple of days.” You roll your eyes, picking up some of the extra copies for the other agents you’re taking on the mission before grabbing the flowers from the table.

“Are those yours?” Bucky’s voice pitches up, like he can’t seriously believe someone sent you flowers.

“This is exactly what I don’t have time for.” You huff, leaving him behind in the conference room, wishing he’d just drop it. But knowing Barnes, and hearing his combat boots smack on the floor behind you, he won’t stop.

“Who is he?” He raises his eyebrows, walking next to you, covering the elevator buttons with his hands so you can’t press either button.

“Barnes,” You warn. “I’d rather not spend any more time with you than what’s required for my job.”

“Me neither,” Bucky nods. “So, if you can just tell me who sent you the flowers we can go on our way and not talk until we absolutely have to.”

“Does it matter who they’re from?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. “Of course it matters, I’ve never known you to like someone enough to give them your work address. I’ve never known you to like someone, period. So, yes, it matters.”

“Why would I tell you?” You quickly press the arrow pointing upwards as Bucky gets distracted with his dig at your non-existent love life. “So you can go and tell him what a big mistake he’s making?”

“That, and maybe I just want to know if he’s a real life breathing man.” He shrugs as you get in the elevator. “With eyes and ears and all those things one would need to know you really.”

“Great, thanks for the motivational talk I so didn’t need.” You flip him off as the doors close.

-o-

Your head bounces against the side of the plane as you go through some turbulence but you try not to let it disturb you. But it’s something else that wakes you up, or rather, someone else.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that he works somewhere in the compound.” Bucky drops his body in the seat next to you, his loud voice making your eyes snap open.

“I’m resting before the mission,” You narrow your eyes at him. “And having you talk to me is messing that up.”

“You’re not disagreeing.” Bucky hums.

“The only reason I haven’t flipped you over and dislocated your shoulder is because you have somehow gotten on Sam’s good side and I don’t want him giving me his disapproving father look.”

“Just tell me.” Bucky’s crystal blue eyes are looking straight into yours.

“Tell you what?” You throw your head back with a groan.

“Who the flowers are from.”

“You’re still on that?” You quirk one eyebrow.

“You never answered it.”

The questions seemed to have died down once you closed your eyes again but Bucky popped up whenever you expected him least.

You rummage through the office of the suspect that had just been killed. A doctor that was once Hydra had been trying to replicate the super soldier serum, the animal testing had been positive and a couple of dog sized rats still lived in his office.

“Can you tell me what area he’s in?” Bucky leans on the doorframe and the sudden sound has you bringing your gun to his forehead.

“I could have killed you just now,” You heave. “And I wish I would have, I think death is the only thing that’s going to stop you from asking all these questions.”

“You could just answer.” Bucky shrugs, looking both ways, making sure no one’s around.

“Why do you want to know?” You huff.

“I want to know who’s romancing you.” Bucky acts like he doesn’t care, but the truth is that he’s spent the last few days with you and only you on his mind.

The thought of you dating someone that does the bare minimum makes him frown. He’s never given a second thought to your dating life but if he had to rack his brain, Bucky would assume that you would date someone who’s competent enough to handle your wit and your moods, someone who gets your strength and doesn’t try to undermine you, someone who can handle the emotional baggage that comes with this job and doesn’t judge you. Someone who will hand deliver flowers to your apartment to show you he likes you, instead of having them delivered so that everyone thinks he likes you.

“Why do you care about my love life all of a sudden?” You snap at him and it actually stops him in his tracks.

Bucky stares back at you with half a breath sucking in his lungs.

Love.

You actually said the word love.

Nothing’s ever happened between you two (except for that night the two of you spent cuddling together after neither of you wanted to sleep on the floor, but you swore you’d never speak of it again), but you’ve been a constant in Bucky’s life for years. And he doesn’t deal with change very easily.

If you’re so freely talking about having a love life, as opposed to what? a like life? Get yourself together Barnes! he scolds himself, that means that soon enough you’ll be bringing this mediocre boyfriend around the tower, which means he’ll have to practice his “I’m trying to act like I care what you’re telling me” smile in the mirror while he’s bumped into the guy while you’re still getting ready because lord knows you love to take your sweet time getting ready! And that means that he’ll have to get a tux for your wedding because who would be stupid enough to not marry someone as intelligent and beautiful as you, and that means that you’ll take a leave for your honeymoon but knowing you, work will follow you to said honeymoon. You never stop working and Bucky’s warned you about your body taking a toll after all those years.

“You’re one to talk.” He remembers you rolling your eyes at him the time he said it.

God, your eyes. He’s going to miss your eyes. In the morning, you’ll look at him from over your boiling hot coffee cup. Bucky knows that you like to drink your coffee before the sun goes up because, in your words, I want to have at least a couple of minutes to myself before the world needs me. He’d never admit it to anyone but he sometimes acts like he’s had nightmares keeping him up at night just so he can share those quiet moments with you.

And after the tsunami of memories he won’t share with you anymore subsides, another wave comes crashing in. Soon you’ll be retiring, Bucky’s seen you with Morgan. It’s clear you want kids of your own some day. And you sure as hell won’t be having them when someone like Bucky Barnes is your partner. Bucky knows he’s a risk, he wouldn’t judge you if you thought it too.

“Okay, we’re done here. I’m leaving, White Wolf hot on my heels.” You speak into the chip, making him snap out of his thoughts and return to Earth.

“As always, thanks for doing nothing, Barnes.” You laugh, slapping Bucky's shoulders as you pass him.

Bucky’s lungs burn as he runs alongside you down the corridor, trying to make up for all of the air he didn’t get as he spiraled.

-o-

Bucky is up and it’s not because he heard the door hinges creak as you came inside or the slapping of your heels on the old wooden floor. It’s because he hasn’t been able to sleep since you left.

He acted tired and fake yawned all the way to his room as you passed by, all maked-up and perfumed, when in reality he spent the rest of the night trying to decipher a video game someone recommended.

Bucky’s verdict: I’ve been to war, I don’t need to play make believe.

He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the sounds coming from the kitchen. You opened the fridge door and took a glass bottle of sorts out. From the cork popping, he figured out you were taking out your favorite wine.

Bucky walks quietly towards the kitchen, not wanting to startle you.

You gasp as you turn around, cork in your mouth and wine glass filled to the brim in your left hand.

“I thought everyone would be asleep by now.” You spit the cork into the trash, lowering your face so your hair fans over your features.

“Nightmares,” Bucky mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing at your unusual mannerisms.

“Well, now you know who was out here.” You walk past him. “Goodnight Barnes.”

But before you can leave, Bucky holds your arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” You try to release from his grip but you know you’re no match for the vibranium arm.

Bucky lifts up a trembling hand to your face and moves away your hair. Your normally bright eyes now look dull. Red blotching around your irises and black ink running down your face.

“You’ve been crying.” Bucky’s jaw tightens.

“Thanks for that, Sergeant Obvious,” You scoff. “You’ve discovered my secret. I’m a living, breathing woman with feelings. I know they make you uncomfortable because you don’t have any but I do.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I’m a person and as much as I would like to be as robotic as you are, sometimes people do things that hurt me.” You roll your eyes. “Next time I have feelings, I’ll make sure to take care of them before I enter the tower so you won’t be bothered.”

“Why are you crying?” He hisses, shutting his eyes before he sees red. “Who made you cry? Tell me a name and I’ll have them killed before dawn.”

“What?”

“No one makes my girl cry.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to understand what Bucky just said. The man who’s constantly bothering you and making your life quite impossible is threatening to kill someone just because you shed a couple of tears?

Bucky runs his hands down his face. “We’re wasting precious time here baby, just give me a name and I’ll do the rest.”

“You don’t care,” You tell him but his expression doesn’t change. “You’re not supposed to care. Why do you?”

“The other day, when you told me about the flower idiot, I may have realized something.” Bucky lets out a deep breath. “You’re my partner on the field but you’re much more than that in here.”

Your hand shakes as Bucky takes it and presses your palm flat on his chest.

“I’m thinking of you when I wake up, hoping I catch you before you get ready. You’re on my mind when we’re training because I want to teach you everything I know, and I want you to teach me how you twisted the agent’s arm and dislocated his knee at the same time. Most of the times when we’re out on missions I’m reckless because I want to keep you safe. I don’t care what happens to me, you’re what needs to be taken care of. At night I dream of you, and then I wake up feeling hollow.”

“You’re too good for me and I know that but that doesn’t mean that some jackass can take you out and then make you cry. If that’s the standard then I’m way above average, baby.” Bucky lets out a dry chuckle. “And I know you don't want me because, who would? But-”

You slam your lips on his, stopping him completely.

Both of you are starved for touch, wanting to explore every inch of the other. His hands roam your body as yours get tangled in his hair.

Heavy breathing takes over the kitchen as you separate.

“Why did it take you so long to tell me?” You rest your forehead on his.

“Why did it take you so long to kiss me?”

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour@hallecarey1@aorifukuzawa@sammyssm@alana4610. @mrsjobarnes@vicmc624@unkasworld@theroyalmanatee@almosttoopizza@cjand10@cremebruleequeen@buggy14@jasminocano.@isabel-ffl-xoxo@wintrsoldrluvr@kandis-mom@12345sebby@tittittoee @unaxv. @teambarnes72@angelicrexi@she-wolf09231982@wilsons-striped-ties@tmb510@capswife@pono-pura-vida@touchstarvedforbuckybarnes@tatianah26@drewsuncrustable@minmiin1d

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yummymitzy · 5 months ago

Text

It means everything to me.

Summary: The team decides to play a truth or dare game to end the night after one of Tony’s parties. Throughout the game, reader felt eyes on her, but she doesn’t know that they came from a certain redhead. Would something grow between them once the night falls?

Warnings: G!P Nat, SMUT, hair-pulling, back shots against door, spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, Nat jus bein rough n jealous, 18+ MINORS DNI

WC: 3,154

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Rogers!Reader

————♡————

Stark parties at the compound were so very often hosted, it could have been for any occasion. As long as Tony thought it was a good time to celebrate, he’d host a party for that night. Today just happened to be one of those nights.

You, your brother Steve, Bucky, and Wanda were sent out on a mission four days ago. You four came back to the compound and deemed the mission successful, which made Tony practically jump up and exclaim that he’d host a party for tonight for another mission gone well.

You were definitely a party person, the life of a party whether you were drunk or not. But goddamn? The last party the team hosted felt like yesterday to you, when it was actually last week, but that was still close enough right?

As of right now, you were getting ready for his party, as you take a quick glance at your phone, it was 5:45 and the party was at six, so you definitely had enough time to be ready by then. You set down your phone as you went straight to your closet, your makeup already done.

After rummaging through your dresses, it took you a few minutes before you came across your dress of the night and put it on. It was a backless maroon dress with a slit that went dangerously high on your upper thigh, the back of the dress incredibly accentuated your ass to which you appreciated.

Overall it was a great dress, who were you going to impress? You weren’t sure but you had an idea though. You strolled out of your closet and heard a knock echo through your bedroom, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You still had way more time you wondered as you went to open the door.

There stood Bucky clad in a dark blue suit, hand still raised in the air as if he was going to open the door. Regaining his composure instantly, he drops the hand and leans against your doorway.

“You clean up nice, Buck. Didn’t think you still knew how to groom yourself with all that time you were up in the ice.” You tease lightly as you step back from your door and heading over to your vanity, putting in shiny gold earrings to complement the red.

“Hey… Don’t get used to it though.” He acts slightly hurt before switching to a joking manner. “But do hurry up, doll. At this point the party will be waiting up on you.”

“I’m done, was just putting in earrings. Now cmon, I need a drink.” You slip on your red bottomed heels and brush past Bucky as you head down the corridor of the elevator, laughing slightly as he tries to catch up before the doors close.

As soon as the elevators open to where the party was being held, you went straight to the bar, in desperate need for a drink. Your eyes widen slightly before you smirk, realizing that Natasha had been put on bar duty.

Natasha was glammed up, hair curled down to her back, a long fitted emerald dress that showed off all her curves, it ran down to her knees and glimmered in the light. Her bright red lipstick complimenting it as she also has on some emerald earrings.

You approach the bar, surprised Natasha hadn’t caught sight of you yet, until you stood right in front of her eyes, smirking.

“Hey Nat, what got you doing bar duty tonight?” You lean against the bar counter, your arms crossed. The action making Natasha stare down at your breasts hungrily before she snaps her attention back onto you.

The thing was that you and Nat had this thing going on, where you’d both go back and forth with trying to flirt with each other. You never knew when exactly it started, Nat just started calling you pet names and being more touchy one day.

But what she didn’t know was that the game got real on your side. You didn’t know what changed but you started becoming more flustered with her advances and even started blushing, something you never did. Until you realized, you liked her.

It had come a shock to you at first but as time passed, you came to terms with it and just played along with Natasha. It wasn’t like she liked you back, you doubt it, hell she might even be cuddling it up with Bruce.

“Fella did me wrong.”

“You got a real weird taste when it comes to your people Nat.” You laugh as you sat upon one of the many stools in front of the counter.

“It’s not all bad, and my taste in people are quite immaculate if you asked me, Y/n” She raised an eyebrow as she prepared your usual whiskey neat, before sliding it over to you as you laugh.

“Alright, alright, I’ll catch you later, Red” You stood up, your whiskey in hand as you go out to the couches and plopped yourself right next to Sam.

————♡————

You had completely lost track of what time it was, the party was long over and the after party had just started.

You were sat in between Sam and Bucky with Tony on the far side of the couch. Across from you had been Bruce Natasha and Clint, while to the couch on the right of you was Wanda, Vision. The couch left of you consisted of Tony, Thor, and Steve.

The team was so drunk they could barely uphold their conversations with one another. Thats how bad it was, and it was embarrassing that you were especially drunk too.

Soon after, Tony stood up from his side of the couch and stepped forward while raising both of his arms. He proposed a game of truth or dare, refuse to do it, you take a shot. Your lips curled up into a smirk, you honestly couldn’t tell if you were too drunk or not but you did know that you wanted to play.

After hearing the majority of the team agree, Tony had prepared a line of shots, just enough for the first few people before starting off the game.

“Truth or dare, Capsicle.” Tony stared at Steve, a smug smirk planted on his face as he awaits Steves answer.

“Truth.”

“Is it true that Bucky was the cause of those “mosquito bites” when you came out to breakfast the other day?”

Bucky shifted in his seat at the mention of his name which made you shake in laughter as he playfully smacks your arm, catching the eye of Natasha.

“Yes.” Steve admitted, his face flushing a deep color of red as he leans back into the couch, before regaining his composure and picking his victim. “Wanda, Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” She raised an eyebrow as a slight smirk plays on her face.

“I dare you to give somebody in this room a lapdance. EXCEPT Vision.” Making Wanda widen her eyes slightly as she turns her head to look at Vision, to which he nods in confirmation, letting her know its alright.

Wanda stands from her seat, slightly surveying the area before her eyes land on Sam, she approaches you with a torturously slow walk as she pretends to walk to Sam, before snapping her head to you and finding her place on your lap.

Your eyes widen in shock as Tony tells Friday to dim the lights and play a song. You didn’t know what song it was, you were hyper focused with Wanda on your lap. You thought she was going to pick Sam, why you?

Across from you sat Natasha, you noticed she was fuming in her seat as she watched Wanda’s little show. Her knuckles turned white due to her deathly grip on the couch while a scowl was firmly planted on her face. If Natasha had been put into a cartoon, she would have definitely had smoke coming out of her ears.

Natasha was on her last straw when it came to the dance, all she wanted to do was stand up and rip Wanda off of you and take you for herself. As soon as she brushed away those thoughts, Wanda’s dance had already ended. But what she didn’t see was you sighing in relief after she retreated to her seat.

————♡————

You and the team got a few more rounds in and this round ended up having Natasha as the victim.

“Truth or dare, Natasha.” Clint said as he bites his cheek to compose himself for her answer.

“Dare, arrowboy.” She smirks as she turns her whole body to face Clint as he begins cackling.

“Swap clothes with the person you find most attractive in this room.” He grins, visibly proud at his dare.

Natasha stands wondering her next move as she looks towards Wanda, her best friend. “Just go for it, whats the worst that could happen.” Wanda says in her head while she subtly nods her head towards you.

Natasha thought it over once more before she strutted straight to you, her hips swaying as she walked, practically hypnotizing you. She held out a hand in your direction, her eyes meeting yours as they held an unspoken gentleness.

You took her hand as you lifted yourself up off the couch, you never realized how drunk you were until you were on your feet. You were slightly swaying as you tried to regain your balance, which was quick with the help of Natasha as she supported you with her other hand wrapped around your waist.

As you regained your balance, you noticed that you still were holding hands with her but you don’t find it in yourself to point it out. You move to take Natasha to another room nearby, her following behind you close by.

Once you both stumbled into an empty room, that was when you sobered up a little, but Natasha seemed drunker than ever.

“Are you sure you still want to do the dare? I could get Wanda to take you to your room.” You whisper, as you look up to meet Natashas gaze.

You saw something change in Natasha’s eyes, from a drunken look to what you think is hunger?

The emotions that were brewing up within Natasha during the lapdance burst out of her as she shoved you against the door of the room, trapping your body between her and the door.

“Nat!” You yelp, not expecting a reaction like this from Natasha.

“Ya know, I didn’t really like how Wanda was just grinding up on you..” She husks, her face inching towards yours as your gazes to each other never faltered. You can feel her hand hovering over your waist, soon stopping to rest there on the curve of your hips.

“But you wouldn’t really mind that would you, huh?” She smirked as she buried her head into your neck and kissing it slightly, leaving back bright red lipstick marks, she had also left some hickeys unbeknownst to you.

You sigh, leaning into her touch unknowingly and running your hands through her fiery hair before you pull her up gently and crash your lips onto hers.

Natasha’s lips were as soft like they looked, you could have honestly gotten obsessed with them right then and there. You deepened the kiss as one of your hands slid down to her waist to pull her impossibly closer.

You were so focused on Natasha’s lips kissing you that you didn’t feel a hard bulge pressing up against your upper thigh. But soon enough was when Natasha started getting slightly desperate, subtly grinding against you as you felt the bulge become more insistent.

That was when you pulled away, slightly concerned. “Are you sure, Nat? You’re drunker than I am.” You ask, your eyes flickering between hers and her lips.

“Yes baby, I’m sure. Plus I was at the bar handing out drinks, not downing shots with you and Wanda.” She whispered, her attitude rising with the added mention of Wanda. Her teeth grazing the skin of your neck as she nips at it before she pulls away entirely, making you whine.

“Awe detka, so desperate already? Did you get so desperate because of Wanda?” She snarled, as she flips you around by your hips, pushing your face into the door as she kept a deathly grip on you.

“Mphm! No, Nat. It’s all you.” Your voice is muffled against the door as she sternly keeps you pinned there. Your hands flat on the door to keep you stabilized as Natasha starts grinding her clothed bulge on you.

“Damn right it is.” She mumbled as she gave a harsh slap to your ass making you jolt forward into the door as you yelp. Before she continues grinding up on you.

Soon enough, Natasha reaches over to your front and over to your breasts as she gave them a quick squeeze before she trailed her hands to the straps of your dress. You peeled your hands away from the door to allow Natasha to practically rip the dress off of you.

The sight of you braless with a lacy red thong might as well make Natasha drool as her hands went straight to your ass, massaging the flesh and pulling a quiet whimper from you.

With quick efficiency, her dress was off in the blink of an eye, her boxers had an insanely large tent forming, to which you could already assume was by you.

She takes off her boxers as quickly as her dress as she positions herself behind you on the door. Leaning down, her hands find themselves on your waist as her lips find the shell of your ear, her cock just centimeters away from your dripping heat as her breasts press against your back.

“I can tell you want this as much as I do, detka. You’re practically leaking onto the floor.” She husks into your ear, she doesn’t wait for an answer as she stands up straight and slams her cock into your wet cunt making you press your cheek against the door as you moan out.

Natasha begins to pound herself into you, the sound of skin slapping, your moans, and Natasha’s grunts echo the quiet room as she ruts into your tight cunt.

“You’re so fucking tight, detka. Я не могу насытиться тобой. (I can’t get enough of you.)”She growls as she lifts her hand from your waist to pull at your hair, pulling you up to meet her front, her breasts brushing against your back once more as your back completely arches.

The new position allowed Natasha’s cock to thrust even deeper into your cunt, her thrusts were powerful, each movement drove you up the door trembling with pleasure.

She started pounding up into you at a more intense pace, making you moan in shock, the action making you push back against her cock. Her hand that wasn’t in your hair lifted from your hip, and came down on your ass once again, sending a hard slap to it as she massaged the flesh immediately after.

“Ah! Fuck!!” You cried, the pleasure was too much to even suppress your moans as you kept pushing your hips back to meet Natasha’s relentless pace. “Oh, please Nat!!” You scream as she drove into you.

“Nat, I’m gon..gonna cum, please can I cum.” You begged, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Natasha fucked you dumb.

“Go ahead and cum, baby.”

To which you complied, your release had been intense but yet so full of pleasure. You trembled at reaching your climax, but to your surprise. Natasha kept rutting her cock into you as her thrusts got more and more sloppy as the seconds passed, her grunts turning into whines.

“One more baby, just for me, c’mon. I know you’ve got another in you, please.” She pleaded as her thrusts grew more sloppier as she leaned her head down into your neck, placing delicate kisses on it as she tries to muffle her whimpers.

You give her a loud moan in response, the overstimulation soon turning into overwhelming pleasure as you feel your second orgasm of the night building up in your lower belly.

“Fuck..Im gonna cum detka. I can feel you clenching around me,” She babbled slightly, her red hair fluttering over the expanse of your back as she sets a faster pace for her relentless pounding, now nibbling on your neck to prevent her moans from spilling, her hand gliding in front of you as it frantically rubs at your clit.

“Fuck!!” “Cmon baby, cum, cum on my cock.” You and Natasha cried out as you reached your second climax of the night, your tight cunt clenching impossibly more around her shaft as your juices flow out of your pussy.

The action made Natasha cum directly after you, the clenching of your soft velvety walls around her dick made her burst her seed into your womb as she let out a loud moan into the juncture of your neck.

Natasha waited a minute before pulling out slowly, the overstimulation strong as she trembled slightly. She knew you were terribly overstimulated too with the way your legs were shaking.

She watched as the both of your combined juices leak out of your cunt, a little bit of it landing on the floor as she fingered it back into you, making you moan once more.

You rested your forehead against the door in front of you before slowly turning around to face Natasha, all while still leaning on the door. Natasha had always been a beautiful sight, especially now.

Her hair was slightly tousled up, her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red, her lips were smudged off of her lipstick, and her eyes held a deep softness and slight lust in them. You could always get lost in Natasha’s gorgeous eyes any day.

“Natasha, I just want to ask if this will mean anything to you. I wouldn’t want to have you like this with it not meaning anything.” You ask in a soft whisper, afraid of hearing the answer you dreaded the most.

Natasha saw the genuine sadness in your eyes as you whispered the question, the sight made her heart crack. It took her a second to respond as she gathered her words.

“I’ve loved you ever since Steve showed up with you in the living room. I always hoped that you returned those feelings I had for you. What happened between us right now, means everything to me, Y/n.” Natasha spoke softly, as if she were going to break a porcelain doll if she was any louder.

“I love you too, Nat. So much” You admit, walking up to Natasha and instantly closing the distance between you both. The kiss wasn’t lust filled at all, it was full of love and passion, something that you and Natasha always had for each other.

#natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha smut #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #marvel #the avengers #black widow x reader #mcu #natalia romanova #black widow smut

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munsster · 5 months ago

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sharing a bed (trope bingo)

A/N: i could melt (pun not intended. you’ll see) this trope is literally my fav, all my fics would be about it if i could… (gif creds: @bubbarnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: You're cold, Bucky's a living heater. Need I say more? 1.2k words

Warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, sharing a bed, cuddling, nervous/borderline horny Bucky, pet names (doll, sweetheart)

You should have made this decision before your fingertips went numb. November in a northern motel room found you freezing. In basketball shorts and a crewneck, no less. You should have been in California by now, but Bucky has been dragging his feet since Maine. Though, he does drive more than half the time, so it's a sacrifice you had been willing to take.

There's no snow on the ground, but you can feel the beginnings of it on the damp pavement. Your socks are soaked through, and you cringe making a mental note to burn them. You cross your arms over your chest and tuck your fingers under your armpits, jaw clacking as you shiver. The heater in your room scuttled hurriedly to a wheezing stop five minutes after whacking it alive.

Now you're shifting from left to right outside Bucky's door with your blood about to run purple. He hollered something through the door when you knocked the second time. It was either a it's unlocked or a don't come in and you don't trust your hearing enough to distinguish between the two at midnight.

"Bucky," you whine, resting your forehead just below the peephole and trying to shake the low beating sound from your ears. You lift your head. Footsteps then a rattling chain, and he whips the door open.

"Why are you up?"

"What?" How could he be annoyed right now when you're freezing your ass off and you can practically feel the heat rolling out of his room in waves. "I'm cold."

"Well... what am I supposed to do about that?"

You roll your eyes and glare up at him. You could swear he's doing it on purpose. You could swear he's making mental bets just to play with you. Right now he's betting all his cash on who'll crack first. His bet's on you. It always is.

"James, I swear to fucking God—I will walk back to Brooklyn if you don't—"

"Jesus, don't have an aneurism, doll. Come in," he mumbles. You follow him into the little square motel room: one bed, one table, half a bathroom. Plus a TV that only plays soaps and, half the time, crackles with static. The door shuts, and you sigh. You're swaddled by heat; the blood gushes back into the tip of your nose. You can feel your joints again.

"Take this." He tosses a coat at you. At you. It's heavy and green and thick. It's army grade. "Put it on." So you put it on and zip it up. He chuckles at the sight of you because the jacket is massive: down to your knees, quarter-foot past your fingertips. It dwarfs you. It's incredible.

"I feel like a gym teacher."

"What?"

"It's a... mm… nevermind," you hum, "'M tired." Your eyes sink shut, and he watches you from the bed, entertained by your sleep-standing act. For a second, he thinks you're actually gonna fall asleep like that. But then your eyes snap wide open and he looks away.

Bucky shuffles under the sheets, and you watch him curiously through the window of the coat's hood. You suppose you'd missed the fact that he's wearing only boxers, completely shirtless with his cropped hair messily flared around his head. You start to sweat.

He looks up when you whine. "What now?"

"... It's hot."

"You're killin' me, doll."

"I know, I'm sorry," you huff, hands fiddling the flannel insides of the hot jacket sleeves. He watches you struggle to glance at the floor and becomes flush with pity for you. He sighs.

"Alright, hon, take that off and c'mere. We'll get you warm, hmm? Come here."

You flail your arm before latching onto the metal zipper tab and tugging it down with a hissing bzzzz. Bucky watches you relax and let the coat slump to the floor before you peel your socks off and toss them in the small metal trashcan by the door. You pad your way to the empty side of the bed and pat the moth-eaten comforter a few times, smoothing your hand over the soft cotton.

"Don't be shy now. I probably won't bite," he teases.

"You piss me off, Barnes."

"Oh, feel free to freeze your ass off in your room, sweetheart. I'm doin' you a favor."

You harrumph and swing your legs onto the mattress, sliding yourself under the sheets and tucking the blankets under your chin. You face the door, and Bucky settles in beside you, leaving a comfortable six inches of space between you. He faces the wall.

"Night, Bucky."

"Goodnight."

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, and you don't know when Bucky got so close. Or when you turned around. What you do know is that Bucky runs red hot in the middle of the night. Or maybe all the time, but you've never been skin-to-skin in the day. Hell could freeze over and Bucky would still be an inferno.

Sometime between two and three, you tossed around and ended up facing him as he crept closer unconsciously. His hands felt empty in dreams about dancing, so he reached into the darkness and tucked his fingers into the crooks of your knees to draw you into his warm body. On instinct—and because you're still in need of thawing—you curl into him and let your heart beat comfortably alongside his.

Bucky's a talker. He's a vocal sleeper. Good thing his deal was talking. Becca got saddled with sleep walking, and he remembers Ma asking him to install an extra lock high up to keep her from wandering out at twilight. Again. They'd found her mumbling at a brick wall half a block away one night and decided it was for the best.

Now he's rambling on about goats, describing their rough coats as he nuzzles into your navel. His palm spread over your back, he keeps you close, taut to every bit of his body, your leg draped over his waist.

He moans. Loud. And you shift in your sleep, fingers moving to cup the back of his head, brushing through his soft hair. His scalp is hot, and you sigh lazily as you melt further into his tight skin and smooth muscle. If either of you had woken up, it would've been a bloodbath. But for now, it's peaceful, and a dove coos from a lamppost outside.

A couple of times, you open your eyes but find yourself so disoriented, you can't bother to assume it's anymore than a dream and pass out again. At the crack of dawn, Bucky's lashes flutter open, and each of his veins flows with new life and the rising sun. It takes a second for him to realize he's breathing in the warmth of your skin. And he doesn't hate it.

He falls back asleep.

In the morning, you're both too busy adjusting to central standard time to register that you'd been pressed up close and personal all night. Too busy to acknowledge the comfort you both found in each others arms. And hands.

Over breakfast at the twenty-four-hour diner, he smiles meekly, and you blink down at your short stack like nothing happened. Like nothing ever will.

marvel masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes trope bingo #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #x reader #fluff #tropes #marvel fanfic #marvel

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heytheredelulu · 9 months ago

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Wants & Needs

Bucky Barnes x Reader

18+

Word count: 1.8k

Content Warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, pet names, size kink, masturbation, language, teasing, flashing

You come home late from girls night knowing Bucky will still be up. You want need him and you’re finally going to let him know.

“Hey.” You said softly, shutting the door behind you and shrugging off your jacket.

It was late, nearly two in the morning and as expected, Bucky was sitting up in the living room reclining on the couch with a glass of bourbon in his hand. He nodded in greeting but even in the dim light you could see his blue eyes rake up your form, taking in your appearance. You kicked your shoes off and started across the room.

“You were out late.” He says, taking a swig from his glass. “Nice dress.”

You settle into the chair across from him and cross your legs. “Girls night.” You reply, acknowledging why you were out late and why you were wearing that slinky little black dress.

“Girls night?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “Dressed like that?”

You frown and look down at your dress. “What’s wrong with it?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Nothing. You look nice. Just assumed you were coming back from a date, not girls night.”

You laughed. “A date? Yeah right.”

He raised both eyebrows this time, pausing with his glass at his lips. “What is that supposed to mean?” He asked.

You shook your head. “It means that I don’t go on dates.”

He lowered his glass and tilted his head inquisitively. “Why not?” He asked. “It’s not like you couldn’t get one. The dudes around here are practically throwing themselves at you.”

You shrug and lean back in your seat.

“I don’t want them.” You say quietly, resting a hand on your knee.

He sets his glass down, his curiosity peaked by your response.

“You don’t?” He asks.

You shake your head, shifting in your seat and uncrossing your legs. “I don’t.” You repeat, letting your thighs fall open as you stare across at him.

You sat in silence for a few moments until his gaze traveled down between your legs, falling onto your bare cunt underneath your dress.

You swore you heard his breath catch in his throat before his eyes flicked back up to meet yours and he leans forward with his elbows on his knees.

“What is it you want?” He asked, his focus drifting back to your exposed pussy. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip and he let out a slow, shaky breath.

You don’t answer him, responding instead by spreading your legs wider, your folds glistening with the slick of your arousal.

“Cut the bullshit.” He whispers, swallowing hard. “Tell me what you want.”

The hand resting on your knee slides up your thigh and dips between your legs. You trace a finger through your folds, gathering your wetness while your eyes remain fixed on him.

“I don’t want anything.” You breathe out, your head falling to rest against your shoulder as your finger traces over your clit.

His own fingers twitch as if he wants to reach for you and his eyes narrow in frustration.

“I thought I said cut the b-”

“And I said I don’t want anything.” You interrupt, your finger rubbing small circles over your clit. “Wants and needs are two different things, Buck.”

His elbows fall away from his knees and he leans back in his seat, his new position giving you a better view of his cock straining against his jeans.

“Fine.” He murmurs, resting his large palm over his erection. “What is it you need?” He asks, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

You slide your finger towards your entrance, pausing against your tight, wet hole but not slipping it in just yet, causing him to visibly squirm in his seat. His breath falters and he catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he begins to palm himself lazily over his jeans.

“I think it’s obvious, isn’t it?” You ask, sinking a finger into your cunt. “Or do you just want to hear me say it?”

He scowls and unbuttons his jeans, gripping his waistband and tugging them down his thighs along with his boxers. His hard cock springs free against his abs, the tip angry and weeping with pre-cum.

“Are you gonna keep being a fucking tease?” He asks, spitting into his palm and pumping himself with his fist. “Or are you gonna cut the bullshit and let me wreck that pretty little pussy?”

You withdraw your finger, standing up from your chair and taking a step towards him. He stills his movements and scoffs, his expression darkening.

“No.” He says sternly. “You wanted to be a brat? You can crawl over here.”

You drop to your knees as told, crawling the short distance across the floor to him and slotting yourself between his thick thighs, marveling at his thick cock as he resumed fucking his fist mere inches from your face. “You want my cock?” He asks, bringing his free hand to roughly grasp your jaw. “You need my cock?”

You nod against his firm hold on your face, licking your lips as your eyes hungrily follow his every stroke. “I do.” You whine, reaching for him but he swiftly releases your jaw and smacks your hand away. “You could have just asked, you know.” He says, his tone suddenly gentle and betraying the dominance he was emanating.

“I-“ You start, rising to your feet and moving to straddle his thighs.

He lets go of his cock, reaching up and sliding the straps of your dress off your shoulders, peeling the fabric down and exposing your breasts. He cups one in his hand, kneading it gently as he looks up at you. “I wish you would have asked.” He mumbles, dipping his head down and taking your nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it. You moan, tipping your head back and bringing your soaking cunt onto his lap, grinding yourself along his length. He sucks in a sharp breath in response, catching your nipple between his teeth and tugging.

You gasp, your hand grabbing a fist full of his hair and yanking his head back. He looks up at you with a menacing grin, his hands traveling to your hips and holding them tight in his grasp. “I wish you would have asked.” He repeats, that gentle tone gone again as he lines himself up with your entrance. “Because I would’ve been nice.. fucked you real sweet. But since you wanted to be a brat-“

He tightens his grip on your hips and brings you down onto his cock, stretching you open and causing you to cry out from the sting. He shushes you, leaning back to look between you with furrowed brows when his cock is met with resistance.

“Shit, and I’m not even all the way in.” He mocks, looking up at you while you tremble, trying to adjust to his size. “C’mon, baby. I thought you needed my cock?” He teases, taking hold of your thighs, spreading you open across his lap and fucking himself upward until he bottomed out. “You’re so fucking tight. Your pussy’s choking me.”

You felt all the air leave your lungs the moment he was fully seated inside you and as soon as his hands gripped your ass with bruising force, bouncing you up and down on him, you fell forward against his broad chest.

“F-fuck!” You gasped out, bracing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as rammed into you mercilessly. He let out a low chuckle, bringing his lips to your neck and pressing a kiss to your pulse point.

“You gonna make me do all the work?” He grunted out, nipping at the sensitive skin. You whimpered and brought your knees up, planting your feet on each side of him. Assuming control, you bounce yourself on his cock and desperately chasing the release that was building low in your abdomen.

“Atta girl.” He mumbled, his hand threading in your hair and pulling you to him. You crashed your mouth against his, your tongue teasing at his lips and he groaned as he parted them, meeting your tongue with his in a dance for dominance. You moaned into the kiss, grinding yourself down on him.

He snaked his hand between you, finding your clit and rubbing circles around it with his thumb, causing you to shake and cry out against his mouth as your vision blurred and a wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Your cunt clenched and fluttered around him and he broke the kiss, dipping his forehead to nuzzle against your temple.

“There you go, angel. That’s it. Come all over my dick.” He breathed against your ear, resuming control in the wake of your climax and fucking up into you again. “You’re dripping all over my balls, baby. Making such a mess. I should make you suck ‘em clean.”

Your body slackened from the force of your orgasm, your ears ringing as you nodded incoherently at his words. He delivered a swift slap to your ass and you gasped, arching your back in response. He grasped your ass cheeks in his large hands, spreading them as he lifted you up and slammed you back down onto him. “Don’t go all dumb on me now, not before I’ve fucked you full of my cum.” He warns, settling his hands against your lower back. “Lean back.”

You lean yourself back, his hands preventing you from falling and he pistons up into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix and causing you to choke back a sob as you feel yourself climbing towards the edge again. “Bucky, I-“

His mouth parts and he lets out a low moan. “I know, baby. I got you. Gimme one more. C’mon.”

His words send you toppling over and you come hard with a strangled cry, your hands clawing desperately at his shoulders as he fucks you through your waves of pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum in this tight little cunt.” He chokes out, his hips stuttering as he drags you up and down his length, your body trembling in aftershock.

“You want that?” He asks through gritted teeth. “You need that?”

You’re unable to form words, only managing a frantic nod as he grunts, pulling you down flush to him, his cockhead smashing against your cervix. He lets out a deep, guttural moan as his cock twitches and spills inside your throbbing pussy, filling you with his thick, hot cum.

You both remain still as if neither of you want to be the first to pull away, your chests pressed together and heaving in the afterglow. His hand palms at your thigh and he sighs, letting his head fall back against the couch.

“You alright, angel?” He asks, looking down at you while your head rests against his shoulder. You nod, laying your hand flat against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest under your fingertips, almost in rhythm with your own that’s pulsing in your ears. “Good.” He breathes out, running a hand gently through your hair. “Can you promise me something?”

You tip your chin up, looking up at him through your lashes. “What?” You ask softly, moving your hand to trace your fingertips along his jaw. The corners of his mouth quirk up into a smile and he cups your cheek, running the pad of his thumb gently across your bottom lip.

“Next time you need somethin’ from me? Just ask.”

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #marvel smut #avengers smut

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buckyalpine · 1 year ago

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Bucky knows you’re faking

Bucky knows you’re faking. He has no idea where you met this guy or why you’re still with him, in fact Bucky almost feels sorry for him. Because this guy thinks he’s doing a good job. He thinks he’s making you cry from pleasure, he thinks he’s pulling orgasms from you left right and center but Bucky knows.

Becuase he’s heard you. Fucking smelled you.

In your room, all by yourself.

He hears every moan and whimper, all those noises you can’t hold back. The filthy squelching of your pussy making a mess on the sheets is a sound unmatched. You always smell so good after and he can’t get over how soft and sweet you are, all fucked out with a quiver in your voice, not realizing he knows exactly what you’ve been up to with those pretty fingers between your legs.

He’s seen the way you practically glow afterwards, a shy smile on your face, acting like you weren’t moaning like a bitch in heat minutes ago. Always when it’s well past midnight, coming down for a snack, a thin sheen of sweat still covering your skin. He’s usually in the kitchen, having to pretend his cock isn’t aching after hearing how pretty you sound, how desperate and loud you get when you think no one can hear you.

But he can.

Bucky grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, smirking when he heard your less than enthusiastic sounds and silence a few minutes later. He watched carefully as you made your way into the kitchen with nothing but a flimsy robe covering you, eyes growing wide when you realized you weren’t alone.

“Have a fun night?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, struggling to keep his eyes on your face and not the loose knot, so close to letting your robe fall open, giving him access to that pretty body-

“Oh-yes” you shrugged, suddenly feeling hot all over realizing Bucky had probably heard you, “I-um-I don’t think I’ll see him again”

“Why not” Bucky prodded, his curiosity piqued, self-restraint faltering, he couldn't hold back, not when that poor excuse of a robe was begging to be ripped off. “He can’t make you cum, can he princess”

“What?” You stared at Bucky like a deer caught in headlights, frozen on the spot, mouth gaping while he chuckled.

“I said-” he got up from his place at the kitchen island, biting his lip while backing you against the counter, your eyes growing wide feeling his hard, poorly contained bulge press onto you. "He can't make you cum? Can he?"

“I-" You stammered, gripping onto the edge of the counter, surely you were dreaming, there's no way this was really happening, all the fantasies you've thought of coming to life-

“Oh baby” Bucky cooed at your flustered state, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Don’t get all shy on me now bunny. Was that it? Did he make you cum?”

You shook your head, still nearly frozen like a baby deer, whimpering when Bucky groaned, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Knew you were faking it princess, I've heard you, y'know" Bucky smirked at your gasp, clearly mortified that he'd heard you during your most intimate moments. "Y'sound so pretty when you touch yourself baby"

"Bucky" You whined, not sure what you were begging for, arousal pooling between your legs, spreading your knees slightly to press yourself against his thigh.

"Tell me to stop" his jaw was clenched, gripping onto the single strange of restraint he had, his fingers toying with the knot of your robe.

"D-don't stop" You let out a shuddered breath, shivering when your robe was thrown off before you could blink, Bucky's lips smashing onto yours. His hand gripped the back of your neck, his tongue claiming your mouth as his, teeth nipping and sucking your lip. He lifted you onto the cool marble counter with ease, metal fingers swiping through your folds, gathering your slick before shoving them in his mouth, groaning at the taste.

"You're fuckin' sweet bunny" He didn't give you a chance to respond, prying your thighs apart and dipping down to lick a fat stripe through your soaked cunt before latching onto your clit. You cried out in pleasure, his wide shoulders keeping your legs spared apart.

"B-Bucky!!" Your head was thrown back when he shoved two fingers into you, curling and fucking them into you, moaning when you grabbed onto the roots of his hair, tugging harder the closer you got.

"Already sound so pretty baby" He let out a dark chuckle, kissing your pouty face when he pulled away just before you reached your high, tugging down his sweats to pull his cock out, "Bet you'd sound even better when you're stuffed, hm?"

"Please" You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, practically humping yourself on him, desperate to be filled. His cock was curved towards his tummy, the swollen head dripping with precum. There was something about him still being fully dressed while you were stark naked in the middle of the kitchen that aroused you more, knowing damn well anyone could walk by at any given moment.

"You need a fat cock to cum around, don't you bunny? My bunny's such a little slut, she can't cum unless she has a fat cock fucking her brains out?" He taunted, loving the way you were nothing more than a babbling mess already, moaning when you felt his tip catch against your fluttering entrance.

"Please Bucky, need it"

"I know baby, I know, my poor baby needs cock, doesn't she" His eyes locked with yours as he started to breech your tight hole, your breath catching in your throat at the stretch.

"Breathe, s'just me baby, swear you got my cock so hard-shit" He hissed as he pushed himself to the hilt, pulling out at an agonizing slow pace, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

"Faster Bucky, please-please need you" You tried to get him to move but he shook his head, feeling you flutter around him.

"First tell me what you call be princess, what do you call me when you're all alone with these sweet fingers"

Had Bucky not been holding onto you, you would have fainted; you had no idea he'd also heard the nights where you desperately moaned and came over and over again thinking of him. Bucky smirked against your skin, slowing down the drag of his cock again, snapping his hips suddenly making you squeal.

“C’mon darling, what was that you called me”

“DADDYY” you wailed, wrapping your thighs around his waist when he stated to pound you with a bruising grip around your waist, the clinks of glasses in the cupboards growing louder the harder he fucked you on the counter. "OH-GOD-D-DADDY"

"That's right, daddy's fuckin' you baby, makes me so hard when you call me that" Bucky groaned, thrusting faster, already on the brink of an orgasm. He could feel his cock swell each time you moaned or whimpered, his hand sneaking down to rub your clit.

"N'look at this precious clit, s'this what you're always playing with baby? Always rubbing this needy little button, thinking on one can hear you?"

"F-fuck Buckyyyy" Your eyes rolled back, tears streaming down your cheeks when he rubbed you faster, your first orgasm choking his cock without warning. You couldn't formulate words, letting out silent screams, blinking pleasure consuming you.

"That's it baby, moan for me, cum for me, cum for your daddy baby, know you've never cum for anyone else, go on n'cum for daddy, make daddy proud" Bucky looked feral, grunting with each thrust, desperately holding off his own orgasm, needing to feel you cum around him over and over again.

"OH-DADDY-D-DON'T ST-STOPP"

"Look at you baby, such a good girl for daddy, giving daddy all of her cum" Bucky's eyes were wild, staring at where he cock split you open, his length and trimmed hair covered in your creamy mess. "Daddy wants all of his baby's cream sweets"

"OH FUCCCKK" You wailed, your juices squirting all over his crotch, making it impossible for Bucky to hold off any more as you clung into him.

"So fuckin' proud of you baby, made daddy's cock feel so good, y'know that? Y'make daddy so hard, so horny, you're gonna make daddy cum so hard angel, m'gonna cum so hard for you, Fuck-gonna fill you up bunny-take it-take my cum-fuck-FUCCKK" Bucky roared against your neck as streams of cum started to fill you, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you. You were limp in his hold, passed out from pleasure, your combined mess dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

You didn't even realize you were tucked under the warmed blankets, wrapped up in a pair of thick, muscular arms, Bucky's large chest acting as a pillow. You nuzzled into him while he softly petted you hair, blissfully unaware it was just the start of a very long night.

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nastybuckybarnes · 1 year ago

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Car Rides

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: Road trips are usually pretty boring, but you and Bucky find a way to pass the time.

Warnings: Smut, Public sex, Car sex, Language, Fluff, Mutual Pining,

Word Count: 1.8K

A/n: I got this request AGES ago apparently and I'm only just seeing it now! hope y'all enjoy!

~*~

"Can you move your seat up?"

There's a brief pause, almost like Sam's thinking about it, before - "no."

Silence hangs heavily in the car for a long moment as Steve drives and you can't help but feel bad for Bucky.

He's squished in behind Sam, While you've got a decent amount of room behind Steve.

"We can switch, if you want?" You offer quietly, nudging Bucky's knee with yours.

"Steve's not stopping the car just so Terminator can feel more comfortable," Sam interjects, ignoring the ice of Bucky's stare.

"I'm sure we can switch spots while he's driving. We've done far more on missions with less room, I have faith. Unbuckle your seatbelt."

"Yes ma'am."

You take off your own seatbelt, ignoring Steve's warning look in the rearview mirror.

"Okay, I'm gonna climb over you in the middle seat so when you scoot over I'll climb over and then we'll be set!"

Foolproof! Brilliant!

Bucky scoots over to the middle and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself, then grab his shoulders and stretch one leg over his lap.

Steve chooses that particular moment to hit a bump in the road, sending you tumbling into Bucky and forcing his face into your chest.

Your shirt of choice today is fairly low cut, leaving little to the imagination, even less now that Bucky's face is pressed to your goods.

Regaining your coordination feels like it takes a lifetime, but you eventually manage to pry your boobs out of Bucky's face and plop down in the seat behind Sam.

Your heart hammers in your chest and you avoid looking at Bucky with all your might as you put your seatbelt on.

It's no secret that there's tension between the two of you that has only been growing the more time you spend together, but now? Now that you pretty much forced him to motorboat you?

Horrible. Stupid. The worst idea you've ever had ever.

You almost pray for the car to roll off a cliff to save you from the embarrassment licking up your spine.

The ride is silent for a little while, with some of Sam's music being the only thing stopping it from being too heavy, and soon his soft snores accompany the tunes.

After maybe about half an hour, Bucky's knee brushes against yours once briefly, then rests against it more firmly, with purpose.

Your gaze darts over to him but he's got his eyes focused out the window. You let your eyes fall to where he's manspreading into your personal space, and freeze when your eyes land on the bulge in his pants.

The bulge that certainly was not there before the two of you switched spots, not that you looked.

And now you can't tear your eyes away from it.

Sure, all this time the two of you have been flirty and a little more than friendly, but never to this extent.

Your eyes raise to his face once more and your heart stops for a moment when you meet his gaze.

You're caught now.

Swallowing hard, you glance at his crotch once more then turn to look out your own window, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt at fighting the warmth that's quickly spreading.

Bucky rolls his window down, and the light mechanical whirring sound masks the soft gasp that leaves you when his hand lands on your thigh.

You glance down at where his hand is, watching as his fingers flex as he squeezes your supple flesh.

Your body acts on its own, thighs spreading slightly and giving him the green light he needs to slide his hand up closer to your centre.

Eyes focused on the rearview mirror, you slowly grab Bucky's discarded jacket and drape it over your lap while spreading your legs further, successfully hiding his fingers as they dust over your core.

"Cold?" He asks, glancing at you as he slides his hand down your pants.

You swallow hard and nod, leaning back and breathing through your mouth as he slides a thick finger through your folds.

"With the window open it's a little breezy, but the fresh air is nice," you whisper, breath hitching when he rubs your clit gently.

He nods his agreement, coating his middle finger in your essence then slowly pushing it inside of you.

"Clears the head."

You nod, eyes falling shut as he begins a steady pace, pushing on your walls deliciously slow.

"Exactly," the words are a mere breath on your lips as you lose yourself in the feeling of him.

He leans his head back, his eyes focused on your face as he massages your walls, pulling his finger out only to push two right back in.

He watches as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, brows furrowing as you try your hardest to stay quiet through the slow building pleasure.

It's almost torturously slow, and he knows that, but watching your small twitches and movements has Bucky's dick growing hard enough to cut diamonds.

"We got a good day for this, huh?" Bucky asks, grinning when you struggle to open your eyes.

"Yeah it's... good... it's really good," you whisper, eyelids fluttering slightly before you finally raise your glassy eyes to his.

"I could go for a snack soon though, something sweet to eat."

"Mhmm," you let out a soft moan of agreement as he slips a third finger inside you, pumping them in and out at a slightly faster speed than before.

Not fast enough to draw attention to the two of you, but fast enough for you to be struggling to keep still.

"Next gas station isn't too far out. They probably won't have much but we can stop there to grab a snack and stretch," Steve's voice says from the front seat, his eyes glancing at you and Bucky in the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again.

"Sounds good to me," Bucky says, his voice low and his mischievous eyes focused on you as you nod your agreement.

You dig your head back into the headrest, toes curling in your shoes as his palm rubs against your clit with every thrust of his fingers inside of your wet heat.

He stretches your walls deliciously, enhanced senses picking up the tangy sweet smell of your cunt on every gust of wind that blows through the car.

He can't help but lick his lips, greatly looking forward to tasting you once he's finished enjoying fingering your tight snatch.

Eyes slowly opening, you let your head roll to the side eyes finding his as you breathe softly through your mouth.

He grins cheekily at you and stuffs his fingers inside of you a little harder, watching in smug satisfaction when your face screws up with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

The car slowly rolls to a stop and Steve lets out a groan.

"All right. I'm gonna stretch my legs and grab a snack. Are you guys coming in?" Steve's eyes find Bucky's as he opens the door.

Sam jolts upright with a groan, rubbing his face then yawning and pulling off his seatbelt.

"I'm gonna come inside," He says groggily, stumbling out of the car and stretching.

"I think we're good back here, she's falling asleep," Bucky whispers, giving your clit a particularly rough rub before pulling his fingers out of you.

Sam and Steve head into the gas station, and as soon as they are out of sight Bucky is tossing the jacket off of your lap and yanking your pants down your legs.

He licks his fingers clean while using his other hand to undo his belt and shuck his pants down his thighs, exposing his weeping hot cock.

"We don't have much time, sweetheart, better make it count. N'when we get to the cabin I'll fuck you nice and slow and proper," he promises quietly.

You straddle his waist once more, wet core dripping onto his lap and Bucky can't help but hiss when he slides his aching cock through your folds.

He rubs your clit a few times then slides inside in one quick thrust, pressing his mouth to yours to swallow the sound of your moan.

With the window open, you guys aren't exactly safe. Anyone could drive or walk by and Sam and Steve will likely only be gone for a few minutes.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby... shit..."

His voice is strained as you begin rocking your hips in his lap, eyes squeezed shut as the tip of his cock drags across your g-spot.

Rather than let you have your fun, he flips you onto your back in the back seat of the car and hammers his hips down to meet yours, his lips trailing over your throat as you moan softly at the new angle.

He's hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and kissing your cervix with every other roll of his hips.

The pleasure and pain mix and make your head foggy, and it doesn't take long for your toes to curl around Bucky's hips and your climax to creep up on you.

Metal fingers toy with your clit with expert precision, and within only a few moments, your walls are clamping down around him and successfully milking him of his cum.

He lets out a few shuddering breaths as his own orgasm washes over him, balls tight as he pumps you full of ropes and ropes of thick white cum.

His head rests on your chest for a moment, breathing you in as he basks in his high, and then he's carefully pulling out of you and yanking his pants back on.

You, on the other hand, are stuck on your back as aftershocks wrack your frame.

Chuckling softly at his handy work, Bucky helps you back into your pants then pulls you up into his arms.

You collapse against his chest when he leans back against the door, cuddled in his arms as much as you can in the cramped backseat of the car.

He holds you gently, his own eyes closing as he relaxes into his post orgasmic bliss with you.

Your heart is racing even minutes later when Sam and Steve return to the car, each climbing in quietly when they see the two of you curled up together.

Steve sets a grocery bag full of snacks and drinks down on the floor in the backseat, then turns the music on quietly and starts driving, oblivious to what's just gone on.

As he drives you settle against Bucky, falling asleep gently while his load drips out of your swollen cunt. A mess he plans on thoroughly cleaning up as soon as you reach your destination.

#Bucky X reader #Bucky X reader smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky X reader fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky smut #sam wilson #Steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel fanfic #Bucky/reader fluff #Bucky X you #bucky/reader #bucky/you smut #bucky/reader smut

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redwing4life · 7 months ago

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mdni

wanna know a bucky trope that sends me spiralling? bucky filming you all drunk on his cock.

imagine your thighs all sticky with cum, the three orgasms bucky’s pulled from you painted across the soft flesh like paint on a canvas. bucky can’t stop tracing his throbbing pink tip over your filthy thighs; his own white seed mixes with yours and you whine at the sound.

“never get tired of this, doll.” bucky’s sultry tone washes over you, your mind scrambled with need. “seeing you all sticky, covered in our cum -fuck- i- i gotta film this, sweets, let me film you, huh?”

a desperate moan falls from your swollen lips when the super soldier pulls away from you, the warmth of his tip no longer pressed into your thighs. in want of your boyfriend, you reach out for him, but he’s already on the other side of the room.

“bucky…” your voice is high and needy, “bucky, baby, come back. i need you.”

his usual arrogant chuckle greets your ears, forcing your thighs closer together to ease the fresh wave of heat flooding your core. you know that laugh, it’s the one he makes whenever you’re drunk on his cock.

bucky crawls back on the bad, hovering over your sweat-sheen body, and brings his phone over your face.

“smile for me, doll.” he orders, the command drawing your brows together in pleasure. you look up at him through your lashes, lids half shut before you focus on the camera.

“there she is.” bucky hums when you grin, albeit tiredly, up at the lens. “tell me how many times i’ve made that sweet little pussy cum, baby. tell the camera.”

“three.” you whine. you watch bucky lower the camera to your dripping cunt as he speaks and start trying to close your legs.

bucky taps your thigh harshly, tutting. “come on, sweets, show your sarge what a mess i’ve made of you.”

his rough palm slides down to your knees and slowly pries them apart, a growl rippling from the base of his throat as you bare yourself to him in submission.

“good girl.”

you keen beneath the camera, pussy throbbing at the praise. a smirk tugs at bucky’s lips while you writhe under him, he knows he’ll enjoy watching that back when he’s on a mission with his hand wrapped around his length.

holding the phone in his vibranium hand, bucky reaches down to run a calloused finger through your glistening folds, the swollen petals quivering at his touch.

“aw, is my sweet princess all sensitive after all those orgasms? huh?”

you claw at his flesh hand, nodding so fast you make yourself even more dizzy than you already are.

“m’so sensitive, sarge, please- pl- oh my god.”

your eyes are rolling to the back of your head before you can finish your sentence as bucky slides a finger into your tight hole. he prays to god that the camera picked up on the squelch of yours and his cum when he pushes inside you.

“fuck, sweets, you’re so goddamn wet, gonna make me nut all over the sheets.” bucky moans, hips rutting against the soft cotton duvet while he works your sex.

sinful sounds echo across the room, bucky’s phone capturing every single thrust of his hand. he adds a second finger, earning a squeal of contest from you.

“no- bucky, i can’t, i cant, it’s too much, please, just one, please.”

your broken pleas do nothing to slow the grind of bucky’s hips against the bed, your whiny voice merely encouraging him to play with his cunt even more.

“yes you can, and you will. you’ve been so good for your sarge so far, haven’t you, princess? tell me how good you’ve been for me.”

you open your mouth to reply, suddenly interrupted by a third finger stretching the walls of your pussy. a gasp falls from your swollen lips and it morphs into a cry of intense pleasure.

“bucky!!!” you scream, accompanied by the sloppy noises of bucky’s palm slapping your wet clit.

“i’m waiting, sweets.”

releasing a small whine, you look down at your boyfriend to find his eyes already on yours.

“i’ve been so good, sarge. just wanted to be a good girl for you, give you all- fuck- all my cum, be your best girl, all drunk on my sarge’s cock and fingers a-and mouth, oh”

his fingers keep curling and hitting that one stop that’s making you see stars and you begin heaving your chest up and down, desperately searching for a breath that would satisfy your needs. bucky turns the camera to your face so he can look back on your writhing body.

“cock’s so hard for you, princess. you’re so fucking beautiful like this, gonna make you cream all over my fingers again and then stuff you full o’ me”

“please sarge, please- ugh- i’m gonna cum!”

“let go sweets, cover me in your sweet juices”

and then you cum and then he cums against the sheets and then he fucks you and the he eats you out and then you clean up his cock with your tongue and then he cleans you up with a cloth and then he runs you a bath and then he holds you till you fall asleep and then a week later on a mission bucky fucks his fist while watching the video and then he cums to it and then he cums to it again and then an hour later he cums to it again and then-

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neonovember · 2 months ago

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bucky barnes as a husband headcanon!

heavily inspired by my steve headcanons here, I wanna try my hand at writing more of james. he is the epitome of devotion, he falls first and falls hard.

this kind of takes part in an alternative au (think avengers are still together but its post the falcon and the winter soldier)

he is canonically good at cunnilingus

you think I’m joking? This man divulges into a rabid animal the second he gets close to your thighs. He is on his knees whilst your pressed up against the counter rubbing his face against your clothed crotch moaning and grinding in the air

he says if he could have gotten a taste of you while he was the winter soldier it would've required his brain and reversed the brainwashing

’to be alone with you’ - hozier is bucky’s song

like steve, he feels the isolation and ghost-like feeling of being lost in time. Brooklyn doesn't feel like home anymore, he constantly reaches for you, even in sleep because you are the thing he now belongs to.

you can never get used to how intense bucky just..stares at you. Every single moment of the day you'll just catch him watching you silently not saying a word. It wasn't creepy, no it had this protective almost darkness to it that was all consuming. At one of Tony’s parties, he’s watching you across the room with a glass in his hand or mysterious and shit. (probably thinking about when is a polite time to leave)

which is never because bucky just drags you both out of every gathering. Every goodbye is an Irish one

man bun bucky. That’s it.

lets you cut his hair when it gets to the point of covering his eyes. Sometimes his stubble too, thumb circling and grazes your thigh as you lean over him with a scalpel.

most of the team are still gobsmacked at how bucky justs..trusts you. Whether it be with a shaving, or jumping out of a corner. If any of the team tried to pull a knife on bucky he would probably (not) accidentally break their jaw

after missions all the Avengers know he’ll be offline for at least a couple days to be with you. What they don’t discuss is half of those days are fucking you bruised. He gets all pent up and irritated when he isn’t around you, it’s like you recalibrate his mood back to baseline regular bucky when he can finally sink into you.

doll, darlin’, honey

if you think steve is possessive…just exponentiate that to the power of 10 and you have husband bucky. Are we forgetting this man used to be the winter soldier? he's cute and adorable but also can be fucking horrifying. I’m talking blank face breaking a mans jaw cause he looked at you funny

very casual in his superhuman abilities to protect you.

silky dulcet notes of etta james, the album sam had gifted you both playing as you cut up some root vegetables. It’s summer and the night is long and warm, and you and bucky are humming as you prepare dinner. You're twirling your hips, Bucky is leaning against the countertop, half trussing the chicken and the other watching you when he suddenly stops. You don't notice it at first, until he cocks his head to the side, kind of blinks and moves to turn the saucepan on low. You turn to him, and he grabs for one of the kitchen knives on the bench before reaching for you.

"there's someone in the backyard"

all nonchalant, like it had been a burrowing animal stuck under the floorboards. he motions for you to continue, turns up the record player a bit and walks into the backyard without a sound.

this man is touch starved, of course he is cock warming after. each and every time.

one of the things bucky loved about you is at ease he felt, he could talk to you and spill everything out in a way he never could with dr raynor or even steve.

there was a bit of distance from him when he first met you, he was awestruck, even more silent than he usually was. Just stared at you longingly, standing off to the side. he didn’t think he could be anything but feared, it genuinely got to the point where you thought he didn't like you or that you had done something wrong. when steve had told him this, he nearly died. no, i'd like to think he's heart stopped for a couple seconds seriously. than got up from fainting, took you aside, and kissed you against the back of sarah's backyard door on the fourth of july.

stations a few target practice posts in your backyard. teaches you how to shoot, chest pressed up against your back as he helps move your body in the right position. always make sure you know where the weapons are in the house

singing to records whilst he's cleaning said weapons at the table

takes you to all the places still standing he remembers in Brooklyn, you hold his hand and let him rest against your shoulder when the past gets caught in his throat.

Steve finds a place in the city with actual good music, where people actually dance, and it becomes your spot every Friday.

yeah, one thing bucky remembers would be his muscle memory of the dance floor, he’s goooood. Teaches you everything he knows in your kitchen of course, always ends up with you making out on top of each other though

dry humping like teenagers, bucky with his low hanging jeans, not wearing boxes and making a mess just from the taste of your mouth

actually, sometimes breaks down in tears when he realises you’re his wife. Like forever.

always thinking about you, what you're doing, if you've eaten. even if hes in the middle of recon you will be in the back of his mind.

leans over and loops his dog tags around your neck whenever he leaves for missions. kisses your eyelids when your sleeping and the fight calls him

the second time you and bucky visited Wakanda he had Shuri craft the ring to be fused into his vibranium finger..yeah I know.

bucky isn’t the extroverted talking type, but with you he is constantly just yapping..about anything and everything. Following you around the house like a puppy, coming to you for the answers about the new world and questions he always harboured even before the ice

bucky is hilarious, he's already an adonis, but he could laugh you of your pants

can’t bear fighting with you, he never yells. He just kind of goes quiet and takes a walk

you guys live in a house with a huge backyard and a wraparound porch

loves cooking, lets him turn his mind off sometimes and make you something hearty and warm. he has a frilly gingham patterned apron he wears and his curls are wrapped into a bun with your scrunchie. floor always ends up on his cheek, and you always end up on the kitchen bench with his mouth on you

night terrors had him sleeping in a sleeping bag next to the bed, he refused despite your attempts. Sometimes he'd wait till you fell asleep against him and make the heartbreaking quiet separation and sleep on the floor

sometimes likes to take of his arm around the house, especially sleeping. Keeps it near in case though, for you.

he’s thick everywhere…took an hour of foreplay minimum to get you ready for him. You both will never get used to each other, needing to take a moment of hushed gasps and groans when he first sinks in

the wedding was in Sams backyard in Delacroix, just Sam, Sarah, the kids and Yoshi and the team

fairylights wrapped around the spanish moss of hanging trees, soft jazz and hard liquor. Sarah’s seafood boil and a dance floor where bucky spends half the night with you there

dad!bucky on the other hand..now that is a different ballpark. wait no actually, just him when you're both expecting. let's not forgot when he stormed into the tower and broke through the office doors to ask why on earth tony had scheduled him a mission so close to the birth of your baby, tossing him his phone which was now crumbled heap of metal in the shape of his fists....(you were two weeks along)

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buck-star · 3 months ago

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Heart sweater | B.B

Your daughter got a present for his daddy and Bucky isn’t afraid to show everyone what his little girl got for him.

Pairing: Mob!Dad!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Mom!Wife!Reader

Wordcount: 2.033 Words

Warnings: none, just lots of fluff

Authors Note: I couldn’t help myself. This sweater is just so adorable and imagine Bucky’s little girl getting it for him. So yes, soft spot, feeling soft right now. Hope you enjoy!

Events: Winds of autumn challenge | Candy corn 🍬 a sweet surprise, Balance ⚖️ as the equinox approaches, the day and night balance out. Write about finding peace | @the-slumberparty

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“Daddyyyy! We gots you a present!" A childish voice echoes through the hallway of the building. Your and your little — big — families home. Others may say that you, Bucky, and your daughter are family, but there are so many more; they aren’t from the same blood but with the same big hearts.

Bucky’s men, who not only needed to earn his trust but also needed to earn their place in the family, are more than just his men. They are Bucky’s friends, your friends, and your daughter's uncles. None of them would let anything happen to you or the little girl — not just because Bucky told them to take care, but because you’re a family.

Your little daughter runs further through the hallway until she finally reaches her dad's office door. The second floor of the building is just an office — for Bucky and his men. And since he had an important meeting, he suggested that you could go out with her to get some new toys and clothes.

Of course, your little baby girl didn’t go to the toy store first. She loves it, but you’re shopping? She has to get a present for her daddy. She kind of gives herself a treat after finding the perfect present for Bucky — and then she uses all the money she can to get a lot of toys and stuff for herself.

You watch the toddler with amused eyes whenever you’re shopping without Bucky. Mostly Steve comes with you, keeping the two of you safe and just giving you a helping hand so you don’t have to carry all of these bags yourself.

“Sweetheart,” you chuckle while she already jumps to reach the handle and almost falls into her dad's office. You laugh softly, shaking your head — she is just as stubborn as her daddy when it comes to letting someone help or listen once they get excited.

Bucky’s head shoots up the moment the door swings open. He smiles at his little girl, then his eyes wander further toward you. The ocean blue orbs glistening when his lips curl up into a soft smile — one he reserves only for you and your little girl.

“Take care, my sweet little plum. Don’t want ya to get hurt, do we?” He asks, his voice soft but still a bit firm, so the little girl will listen to him. Her eyes — which are just as blue as Bucky’s — roam over her daddy’s body, from his legs up to his face, before she smirks with the widest grin ever.

“We gots you something’, daddy!” She says, excitedly. Bucky crouches down, resting his arms on his knees while he waits for his little girl to continue talking. “Mommy! Daddy waits fo’ you!”

You chuckle, looking for the bag in your hand she wants to have before placing all the others down and handing her the one she put her daddy’s present into. Bucky’s eyes move toward you; without any words, he makes sure you’re okay and that you can be without a kiss for a few more minutes while he focuses on his baby girl.

Once he’s sure you’re fine — after you settle down on the couch in his office and sigh softly — he mouths, ‘I love you, my pretty girl’ to you. And oh damn, you know why you fell in love with that man. He may be a big, feared mafia boss, but around you he is the sweetest, most loving, caring, and perfect husband — and father for your daughter — you could have wished for.

Bucky may be mad because of work sometimes; he may be annoyed, but he never lets it out on you. He would rather punch himself than make you feel like he doesn’t appreciate you or that you’re a burden for him. For your husband, you’re the most precious woman, and he will do everything to keep you safe and loved. He does the same for your little girl.

Luckily, Bucky discovered immediately that whenever he's mad, he just needs you, and everything is perfect. Preferably when he can keep you on his lap. His arms are tightly wrapped around your waist and pull you as close as possible while he presses his face into your chest. You will run your fingers through his hair, and he knows he’s safe — no reason for anger or annoyance, just love and affection, so he calms down without needing anything but you.

“So what do you have for me, my little plum?” Bucky asks, looking with amusement and curiosity at the little girl in front of him. She giggles, her tiny hands grasping his cheeks, and she runs her small fingers over his stubbles.

“Sc’atchy,” she mumbles and squeezes his cheeks together. Bucky lets out a low chuckle, letting her play with his scratchy stubbles. He knows how much his sweet little girl likes his stubbles; she is just like her mommy loving his metal arm and his stubbles — even though you have other intentions when it comes to his metal arm or his stubbles. But those are secrets that stay in the bedroom.

“Sweetheart, you wanted to show Daddy what you got for him,” you remind her when you notice that she got lost in her little game to play with her daddies cheek. But she was so excited to get him his present, plus you know that Bucky’s curious as well.

She removes her small hands and grasps the paper bag again, opening it before hiding her face almost inside of it. You would never leave her with a bag without anyone else around her, but as long as you and Bucky are there, you don’t feel scared if she puts her head slightly into it to tease her daddy a bit.

“Yeah, my little plum. What do you got Daddy, huh?” He asks, bringing his big hands to her small sides to poke his fingers into her soft flesh. The little girl laughs, throwing her head back while she wiggles in his grip.

She pulls her tiny hands out of the bag and holds a big, white sweater with hearts on it in front of her. Her smile grows and her eyes sparkle as she shows it to Bucky. And the big, most feared mafia boss has the sweetest expression on his face.

His eyes shine, and it looks like the sun is brightening them. His smile reaches almost his ears as he stares at the fabric in his daughter's hands. Bucky’s eyes wander to you for a second, then back to his little girl.

“Thank you, my little plum,” he coos, taking the sweater out of her hands to admire it a moment longer. Your daughter watches Bucky intensely — the same intense stare Bucky has if he wants to find out how you think about something. “You want me to take it on right now?”

She nods, letting herself fall backward into her butt while she holds his gaze. He nods, smirking softly. Bucky leans forward, his big hand placed at the back of her head, and he brings her closer to press his plump lips against her forehead.

“Then I will do that,” he says, getting up from the stop he was kneeling. His eyes land on you, and before he leaves the room to change into the new sweater, he makes his way over to you.

He towers over you, both of his hands finding their way to your thighs, and he leans closer. His lips almost brush yours when he grins at you. “She chose the sweater all by herself, but you allowed her to buy it, didn’t you?”

You shiver under his intense stare and his rough voice. “S-she’s just really convincing. I know you said you don’t want presents, but I guess— I guess she got that from you,” you giggle and Lena closer to chase his lips for a soft kiss. Bucky chuckles, kissing you once again before he pushes himself up and makes his way out of the room to change into the sweater you and your daughter got him.

Your daughter gets one of her new toys out of the bag and shows it to you. It’s not like you don’t know what she bought, but she loves to show you and explain everything about it anyway.

“Mommy, wants book or wants dolly?” She asks, lifting her small arms and holding both up to let you decide which of these she should show and explain to you.

“Do you want me to tell you more about the book you got?” You ask. She nods and puts the doll down, walking with the book in her hands toward you. The little girl places the book on the couch next to you, her small fingers digging into your thighs, and she tries to push herself up onto the couch. “Do you want me to help you, sweetheart?”

“Nuuu, ‘m big girl!” She nods, underlining her words. You chuckle; let her climb up without help. Your hand is still behind her back just in case she falls backwards, but she doesn’t.

Once she is on top and next to you, she wiggles a bit and takes the book, placing it in your lap. She just wants to explain why she got the book, who’s on the cover, and what she knows about her favorite series — the book is about it — when Bucky walks back into the room.

Her eyes widen, and she giggles as she sees her big daddy in this pretty sweater she got him. You smile softly at him, reaching your hands out for him to come closer. “You’re pretty, Bucky,” you say and run your fingers over the back of his flash hand, then over the fabric of the sweater.

“Didn’t know I would look that good in that sweater,” he jokes. Stroking one of his hands over the fabric. And he really does look adorable with his middle long hair, his broad chest, and his big arms — the feared mafia boss — wearing a sweater with a lot of hearts on it because his sweet little plum got it just for him. “So, my little plum, what do you think?”

Bucky gets down on his knees in front of the couch, looking at the little girl. Her ocean blue eyes roam over him a little longer before she giggles. “Looks pwetty, daddy! Now we can go back to work!”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I thought I could take out my girls for dinner.” Bucky tilts his head. His fleshy hand holds yours tightly while he watches the little girl, considering if she wants to work or prefers to have dinner with the two of you.

“Do we gets my favorite food?” She asks, taking her book and making grabby hands, waiting for Bucky to pick her up. He nods, wrapping his arms around her to lift her onto his waist before he holds a hand out for you to grasp and let him pull you up.

Bucky doesn’t care that people could look weird at him for wearing a sweater with hearts on it. His sweet girl got it for him, and he knows that no one will disrespect him — not even when he looks like a sweet puppy with an adorable sweater.

“You know, babydoll,” Bucky says, looking at you as he wraps his free hand around your waist to pull you into his side. His nose brushes over your cheek until his lips press against your temple. “Thank you for letting out sweet plum to buy me such a pretty sweater. Now I’m wearing your necklace, our wedding band, and my little girl's sweater. I love you, my babydoll, pretty momma.”

Bucky’s voice is low, and he smirks against your skin as you shiver. You knew he would love the sweater — he loves everything you or your daughter get him. “I love you too, Buck,” you mumble before you make your way to the restaurant — letting Bucky show his sweater around to let everyone see how proud he is to have his family, how much he loves you and his little plum, and how much he appreciates you and your love.

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