#dark!bucky x plus size!reader

[our-destiny]

Day 6 of @creativepromptsforwriting's 30 Days Writing Challenge - Write about a blackout

A/N: These past 5 days I have been going outside my comfort zone, well today I decided to jump back in and write more Soft Dark Bucky :]

Content / Trigger Warnings: Stalking, Murder, implied noncon touching

I am not responsible for the media you consume, read the warnings, minors DNI

30 Days Writing Challenge Masterlist

Word Count: 1228

. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .

He was always watching. Everywhere you go he was always there keeping an eye on you. Or keeping you safe, as he described it. He left notes sometimes, though they were getting more and more frequent. That's also how you knew you weren't just paranoid; he really was everywhere. It seemed like as long as there were shadows for him to hide in, he would be watching. At first, they weren't as creepy. The first one you found on your desk when you walked into work. By now you had been feeling watched for about a month, but chalked it up to a lack of sleep because of work, but this quickly made you change your mind. The piece of lined paper was folded in half, blank save for some messy handwriting at the top.

I don't trust Michael. You should stop talking to him.

- James

Michael was your co-worker, he seemed pretty nice, you wouldn't call him a close friend but you talked to him occasionally. But you didn't know anybody named James, especially nobody that would leave a note like this. It was probably a prank, some of your co-workers were tricksters they probably saw how tired you were recently and thought you needed some fun in your life. You ignored it, kept speaking to Michael during lunch breaks and kept brushing off that feeling of being watched. That was until a week later you found another note on your desk, the same lined paper, folded in half with the same messy handwriting.

I didn't want to do this but you left me no choice. You should have listened.

- James

That day Michael didn't come to work. Or the next. Or the next. And a few days later they found his body. So maybe that wasn't a prank. And maybe you weren't just being paranoid.

The notes continued sporadically, a few of them were warning you not to get too close to that new friend you made and despite how bad you felt suddenly ghosting people you were too afraid to find out what would happen if you didn't. But most of them were harmless, maybe you would even say they were sweet if they weren't from your stalker. Stuff like, "Remember to drink water, you can't live off of caffeine." or, "That shirt looks nice on you." All from James.

But then they started showing up in your house. And 'James' started referencing things no one should know about you. How your shampoo smells nice, or reminding you to buy more bread before going home because you're running low. Or how that one annoying ex "won't be bothering you anymore." You assume they never found the body since you didn't hear anything about it. He also starting signing off differently, before it was just his name but now he says all sorts of things. "Yours Forever", "Love, James", "You own my heart,". He was talking as if he were your lover, not a deranged stalker with an unhealthy obsession. But that was how it stayed for a while. You'd never be apart from James, he would manifest in the shadows and you could feel his gaze scanning every inch of your body. You didn't know what he wanted but for now he seemed content with just looking, dealing with anyone who got too close for his liking, and leaving you weird notes around your house, lined paper, folded in half with messy handwriting.

As embarrassing as it is to admit, you were becoming slightly scared of the dark. Whenever you looked into shadows you swear you could see something moving in them, James haunting your mind, making you feel like the shadows are watching you. Your new found fear of the dark started becoming a hindrance on your life, making you jump at nothing, scared to walk down a dark hallway.

Which really didn't help when the power went out one night.

The storm was pushing against your windows, the occasional crack of thunder lighting up the sky. He was here, as he always was, watching you from the shadows. You had every light on, but even then he was still just out of sight. That was, until the room was swallowed up by darkness. And your phone was dead. How convenient. You should have charged it in advance, of course the power would go out on a night like this, but you were frozen on the couch the past half hour, waiting in suspense for the moment the power goes out, as opposed to preparing for it. You knew that he would make his move now when the room was pitch black. So you have to make your move first.

You stood up from the couch, ready to make a dash for the door at a moments notice. The wind was still screaming outside, making it hard for you to listen for him, but you heard him anyway. Footsteps. To your left. You turned to face the direction he was, and slowly tried to walk towards the door despite how little you could see. Then the footsteps stopped. Silence. You should have kept going, it was obvious he was in the room but instinctively you stopped, trying to listen for him again. That was a mistake.

He was behind you. You didn't hear him move at all, but that quickly faded to the back of your mind when he put his hands on your hips. When it comes to dangerous situations you always thought you'd fight or run away, you didn't expect to freeze. But you did. James rest his head on your left shoulder, nuzzling into your neck, and when he spoke you could feel his breath just below your ear.

"You scared of the dark sweetheart?" His tone was soft, caring, a bit gravelly, like he hadn't used it in a while, but it sounded warm. Not at all like you expected your stalker to sound.

"Shh, shh, don't worry, m'gonna protect you. No need to be scared, I'm sure it'll come back on in a minute." He started gently swaying the both of you, you guess the action was supposed to be comforting.

"James?" The combined fear of the dark room and your stalker made your voice shaky. God, you felt pathetic, the door is right there, he's not even holding onto you that tight.

"That's right, sweetheart. It's nice to finally touch you, when you're awake at least." James gave a small chuckle at the end, as if it was funny that he was touching you in your sleep.

"But, why?" What did he want with you? Why was he killing off random people for you? Why was he treating you like his lover when he's been stalking you?

"Mmm? Why?" He waited a breath while he thought of an answer. "Because you feel like coming home. After Hydra I didn't know what to do. But you feel like home and I'm not willing to lose that again."

He wraps his arms around your waist, the left one felt colder, pressing against you uncomfortably. He gave you a small squeeze, still rocking side to side with you.

"I'm not gonna lose you. Not gonna let anybody take you from me. You're all mine."

You don't think you're ever going to get over your fear of the dark. Not after this.

. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .

Support content creators by reblogging, I'd really appreciate it <33

[nickfowlerrr]

series masterlist

part one • part three • part four • part five

happy golden days of yore • 2

pairing: dark!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. 18+ ONLY. later parts will contain noncon smut. 40s misogyny? pet names. masturbation. creepy bucky.

words: 3k

notes: part twooooo. let me know what you think 🖤

You’d thrown away the burnt cookies and quickly made a new batch, letting them cool off to the side as you started on your dinner. You were planning on just heating up one of the frozen pizzas you’d bought, but figured it’d be nicer to make an actual meal for your impromptu host.

You tossed the caesar salad together out of the ready to mix bag into a larger bowl and after moved to drain the pasta and lower the dial on the burner that held your homemade marinara meat sauce.

The oven dinged and as you bent down to get the bread out, you felt eyes on you. You stood and placed the tray off to the side of the counter, slightly checking your shoulder to see if he really was there.

“Smells good,” he complimented as he met your eye.

“Thanks,” you returned politely. “I haven’t made this in a while, so hopefully it tastes good, too.”

You looked at him as he leaned his back against the counter, his arms across his chest as he watched you. His hair was damp and pushed behind his ears, the stubble remained, and he was dressed in a dark-green cable knit wool sweater and black joggers. It was funny how he looked slightly more inviting now, the softness of his sweater making him appear softer, too, not so intimidating. At least from a far. But he still had this air around him… something that gave you pause about getting too close. You didn’t want to be dramatic, but he had an essence of danger. You’d decided you’d wait for the storm to pass and head back home. You were sure it’d be better for both of you the sooner you headed out.

“Do you want salad?” you asked, getting ready to make his plate. It was his home, after all. It felt rude to just say, ‘Hey, dinner’s done. Help yourself.’. But maybe that was just the old school, ‘women need to serve the men’ way of thinking your grandparents had instilled in you, not maliciously, but still a mindset you’d been trying to shake since high school, when you first realized how ridiculous that thinking was. Still, serving him just felt more polite.

He considered you another moment, you could still feel his heavy gaze on you as you had your back to him, waiting for his answer.

“Yeah, whatever you made is good,” he told you. He pushed off the counter and made his way to the table, taking his seat at the end before his eyes returned to your figure once more. It was unnerving, him watching your every move, but in all fairness he knew nothing about you and was really just going on your word that you were John’s granddaughter. For all he really knew you were just some stranger who’d broken into his home so you couldn’t really blame him for being weary of you. If that’s what all the staring was about.. Either way, what were you going to do about it?

You set the bowl of salad down in front of him before getting his plate and filling it with pasta and sauce. You grabbed the tongs and set a couple pieces of the still warm bread on his plate.

“Enjoy,” you smiled smally as you set it down for him.

“Thank you,” he said, sounding sincere. “Seriously, I was just going to heat up a can of soup. It’s nice to have an actual meal.”

“Of course,” you responded. “Like I said, it’s the least I can do.”

“Would you mind grabbing me a glass of water, sweetheart,” he asked as you walked back to get your own plate, the request giving you half a second of pause.. And there was that pet name again.. You brushed it off and nodded.

“Sure,” you agreed, filling two glasses, one for each of you. You handed one to him and set the other on the opposite side of the table. You finished making your plate and made your way to your seat.

“This is really good, doll,” he praised after taking a bite. “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a while, I forgot how good food could really taste.”

“Glad you like it,” you laughed lightly, looking down at your plate, mixing your food around before you took a bite of your own.

You ate mostly in silence, but as you were finishing your food, decided it would be an okay time to ask him some questions.

“So..if you don't mind me asking, what is it that you do for work?”

He gave you a cross look, brow raised as he examined your face carefully.

“You really don’t know?” he asked skeptically.

“Should I?”

He paused another moment before looking down, lips pulling into a bit of a frown as he thought, giving a small shake of his head.

“I guess not,” he said before returning his gaze to you. “I, uh. I work for the government. Kind of. With the government, really. I told you my name is Bucky, my full name is James Barnes,” he finished slowly, as if waiting for you to connect the dots, eyes never leaving your face, wanting to see the moment you’d put it together.

It took a second, but then it all clicked. You thought he looked familiar, but you didn’t think for even a second where you remembered seeing him before.

“Oh,” you breathed, “you’re…oh.”

You weren’t sure what to say. You were sitting across from the Winter Soldier. You were eating pasta with the Winter Soldier. Fuck, you essentially broke into the home of the Winter Soldier, you were surprised you were still sitting there breathing.

It did explain the danger vibes he was giving off earlier and the imposing presence he seemed to have so effortlessly. Plus he had a metal arm. You don't know how you didn’t realize it sooner. It was clear in front of your face.

“So, you come home after being away for however long and find some stranger in your home and don’t automatically assume the worst?” you said, trying to relieve the tension creeping into the space between you.

“Well I did come in armed,” he smirked lightly. “But I don’t think many suspicious characters are going around decorating, baking cookies, and playing Christmas music in the houses of their targets.”

“Ah, right,” you nodded. A part of you felt relieved that this stranger was actually a well known Avenger and not some sketchy guy you’d be spending the night with. It dwindled some of your trepidations.

“I didn’t say this before, but I'm sorry about your grandfather. I didn’t really know him all that well, but he seemed like a good man,” he offered.

“Thank you. He was,” you smiled.

“Were you two close?”

“Yeah. He and my grandma raised me. After she passed in 2018, it was really just him and me. I had moved out on my own a few years ago, but we still saw each other all the time. It’s been kind of weird, honestly.. The being alone. Not alone like, alone, but like.. no family. Ya know?”

“Yeah,” he nodded almost solemnly.

“Shit, that was really insensitive,” you chided yourself, “I’m sorry.”

“You really gotta stop apologizing all the time, doll. I didn’t take it any kind of way,”

You looked away then, smiling awkwardly at your plate before taking it to the sink to wash it.

“So you’re not scared then?” he asked out of the blue.

“Sorry?” you questioned.

“You know who I am. You’re not scared?”

“I mean, even if I was, I’m kinda stuck here til the storm blows over, so,” you joked to cover your discomfort at his question. You could feel his gaze burning into you all over again. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was staring. “Did you want more? I think I made a little too much,” you tried to change the topic.

“No, I’m alright. Thank you,” he replied as he got up. You were a little surprised when he started putting the leftovers in the glass tupperware you’d set out. He brought the empty dishes to the sink and you washed them as he put the food in the fridge.

“I baked more cookies,” you told him. “Didn’t burn ‘em this time. There’s plenty if you want any,” you finished, nodding to the plate of cookies on the counter behind you.

He grabbed one and waved it at you with a small smile before he walked out to the living room.

You finished washing the last of the dishes and put them to dry before you stored the cookies away in a christmas tin to keep them fresh.

You grabbed more water and turned the light off, leaving the kitchen. As you entered the living room, you felt yourself heat up all over noticing you’d forgotten to take your laundry upstairs earlier. You’d sorted your delicates and regular clothes as you folded them so there was a pile of your socks, bras and underwear on display next to your pile of shirts and sweaters. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and embarrass yourself further so you acted like you didn’t even notice as you threw them all together and swiped them up to take them to the room you were staying in. Bucky was sitting on the chair near the fireplace, a book in his lap, but he wasn’t reading it. He was looking at his phone, doing something else, so you just hoped he hadn’t noticed. And if he did, you just hoped he didn’t mind too much. Not that it was entirely mortifying but he was a man of the 40s and you weren’t sure whether or not he’d gotten accustomed to the times by now or if this was as scandalous as you felt it was.

Bad enough you’d let yourself into his cabin and made yourself at home, but you just seemed to keep adding more to the situation.

“Bucky,” you spoke softly, gaining his attention nearly instantly. “I’m gonna head up, call it a night. It was, uhm, nice meeting you,” you said with a little, nervous laugh. “And again, I’m really sorry for just intruding like this. Thank you for not kicking me out, I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. Anyone would be lucky to come home to the likes of you. Be crazy to kick you out,” he said with a smile as his eyes ran up your body to meet your own.

Your eyes went slightly wide at his response, but you again reminded yourself that he was used to the ways of the 30s and 40s and you were sure he didn’t mean to come off so..well, like he was.

You forced a smile and turned to head to the stairs.

“Your cookie was delicious, by the way,” he added as you began to ascend the stairs, causing you to turn to him once again.

“Oh, good. Glad you liked it,” you smiled again. “Have a good night,” you bid as you continued up the stairs.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you were putting away your laundry, you realized that something was missing... You were sure you had washed your silky black thong. It was your favorite pair and you vividly remembered folding it and putting it on top of the pile of your delicates when you were folding the clothes earlier. You thought maybe you’d dropped it when you were coming upstairs and peeked your head out to check the floor of the hallway, but you were too nervous to check the stairs or go back down and check the couch. You huffed when you couldn’t find it and accepted you must’ve dropped it downstairs. You’d get up early in the morning to look for it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go back down there now just to grab your elusive thong.

Instead you headed to the bathroom and got ready for bed.

It was still freezing in your room despite the fire burning downstairs. You plugged in your space heater before crawling under the covers, but that didn’t stop you from tossing and turning for a while before you finally fell asleep.

—---------------------------------

You weren’t sure how much later it was but you were sweltering under the blankets you had on. You kicked them off of you in a haphazard haze, desperate to feel cool again as the heat threatened to consume you. You pulled your sweater off like you were on fire and threw it off the side of the bed. You were facing the wall and kept your eyes as shut as you could, not truly wanting to wake up fully.

You wanted to just fall back asleep, but your throat protested. You needed water so begrudgingly forced yourself to sit up and grab your glass off the bedside table. Bucky must’ve turned the heater on, something you were trying to avoid. As you took a sip, you noticed the door to your room was open. You had been sure to close it when you went to sleep, so you were taken off guard. The only other person in the house was Bucky, but he was nowhere to be seen. You don’t know why he would’ve opened the door, but you convinced yourself it was a safety or security thing and not something creepier. You got out of bed and looked out into the dark hall, finding the door to Bucky’s room ajar. You changed into sleep shorts and crept back to bed after pushing your door more closed, but not shutting it completely either.

Something was pulling at your mind to stay awake now, but you didn’t know why. Despite that small part of you trying to fight the urge to go back to sleep, you were back under in a matter of minutes.

Sometime during the night you recalled feeling a chill run down the side of your hip and along your thigh before you tossed over and pulled one of the blankets further across your body.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If she closed the door back shut, he told himself he would just go back to bed. That would be it. He wasn’t trying to be a creep, but fuck he just couldn’t help himself.

That seemed to be a more and more common thought he was having today. Like when he saw your thong on the couch earlier just out in plain sight, tempting him to feel it, touch it, take it. So he did. What harm could it do?

The beating of your heart and the soft sound of your breathing just across the hall from him had been keeping him up. The image of you, thoroughly worn out and curled up under the covers was a sight he was suddenly desperate to see. He had opened your door, just to peek in. That’s all he was planning on doing. But when he saw you, laying there, sleeping so peacefully, innocently, he couldn’t help himself. You looked like an angel. He walked in further, not making a sound. You were completely bundled up, and he suddenly realized you must be freezing to have all those clothes on. He ventured out into the hall and kicked the heat on, the first time he’d done that all year. It should warm up soon enough. And then maybe you’d lose some of those bulky layers that were keeping your figure from his sight. He wanted to see the softness of your skin again, to watch the rise and fall of your full breasts with every breath you took. Maybe he’d get lucky and you’d lose the sweats, too..

So when you didn't shut the door completely after you got up, when you unknowingly blessed him with the sight of you stripping off your sweats, your thick thighs and ass on display for him, albeit briefly, as you changed into those little shorts, he couldn't resist going back in. It was like, even if just subconsciously, you wanted him to. To see you all laid out like that. Thin tank top, no bra, little shorts that rode up your ass, soft flesh just begging to be admired, rubbed and squeezed in his hands. He’d never seen anyone so perfect. You tossed again in your sleep, your back to him now as you laid on your side. He inched closer. And closer still until he was inches away, hovering over your body. His hand moved of its own accord, smoothing up your thigh, reveling in the goosebumps that rose on your skin. Just as soft as he thought you’d be. He ran his hand up and down softly a few more times, tickling you in your sleep. Your breath hitched ever so slightly before you let out the sweetest moan he’d ever heard. Suddenly, his briefs were too tight and he was about to burst out of his sweats. He slipped a hand in his pants and lowered his sweats just enough to let his erect cock spring out. He leaned closer to you, ensuring he didn’t make a sound as he let his cock head touch your bare thigh. He rubbed against you, slowly so as not to disturb your slumber, but up and down your thigh until you rubbed back against him while you readjusted in your sleep. Your ass rubbed his cock and he quickly jerked away before his precum leaked on your unsoiled skin. He was controlling his breathing best he could, but it was still heavy, almost shaky as he forced himself to leave your room. The second he walked into his own, his hand was jerking his cock hard, squeezing and fisting himself tightly, all the thoughts and images running through his mind were solely revolving around you.

[crowwritesaway]

Jealous Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

“Bucky.” You mumbled, pulling away. Bucky tugged you back into his arms. You sighed. He snuggled into your chest. “Comfy?” You asked, running your fingers through his hair. You have no idea. Bucky hummed, leaning into your touch.

“It was just a night out.” Bucky sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah, one night without me.” You looked away. He looked so grumpy. You wanted to laugh and hug him at the same time. Bucky, on the other hand, thought you were losing interest in him.

He reached out with his hands and gently turned your head to face him. “Now, you don’t want to look at me.” I thought you loved me. He whined in his head. You shook your head. “Bucky.” He stared at you. Yes. Pretty please. Just focus on me. He pleaded. You cleared your through. Saying I love you should be easy, right? You loved Bucky but you struggled with saying three words. Bucky smiled, he knew what you were going to say. He wrapped his arms against you. “Y/N.” He huskily said, pulling you more into his lap.

“Uh, Bucky.” You felt your face go warm. I love you. Say it. Come on. I love you. Bucky knew that it took a lot for you to open up. “What?” He said, trying to calm you down. He knew the anxiety was bubbling in your mind. “You want me to book us a trip and go off radar.” He had a playful glint in his eyes. “What? No.” You scoffed. He nodded. “Yeah, that’s too little. Booking a trip is overrated. Let’s just go off radar. I’ll get you all the books you love. Your favorite snacks. Your favorite movies.” Bucky listed everything you loved. Fuck. He’s too precious. “I love you.” Bucky stopped mid sentence. A wide smile spread across his face. “Huh? Did I just hear my favorite girl say something?” You smiled. “Favorite?” You asked, tilting your head. Bucky laughed. “My world. My life. My heart. My everything.” He kissed you on the lips to emphasize his love and adoration for you. He leaned his head on your shoulder. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” You wrapped your arms around him. “I’ve realized that a world where you don’t exist is something I don’t want. Your love is my everything.”

Stay around for more of Bucky x Female Reader

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Just Another Notch

Masterlist Part 2/?? Part 3

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader

Summary: If Bucky thinks his charms will work on you, then you’re gonna put up one hell of a fight to prove him wrong.

Word Count: 1,711

Warnings: None, but will contain explicit content 18+, in future chapters, read at your own discretion.

Your alarm didn’t wake you, it was a loud knocking at your door. You jump up, tapping your phone screen to see that it was only 6am. Now you’re gonna be groggy all morning, your alarm was set for 6:45. You trudge to your door, ready to rip down whoever it was that woke you up. When you open the door you see Bucky with bright eyes, two coffees in hand. You quickly read the label and see that it’s your favorite cafe in Brooklyn. How did he get coffee from there this early?

“Good morning.” He chirps out, reaching one of the paper cups forward. You cross your arms in front of you, refusing the coffee. “How can I help you?” You say curtly. You take in his attire, he was ready for training. You could almost laugh, him and Steve take their sponsorships too seriously, can’t be seen exercising in anything other than Under Armor.

“I still felt bad about last night and thought, maybe I could repay you by helping you get a head start today.” The smirk on his lips did nothing to ease your agitated mood. “I said we’re even, it’s fine.” You say, wondering if he was being genuine. It was far too early for all of this. You rub your sleep filled eyes, pushing your hair behind your ears. “Anything else?” You say, wanting to get some more sleep before the day of literal hell you were about to endure. Physically, you were the apex, but mentally and strategically, not so much.

You couldn’t wield a gun, you’d been studying a makeshift dictionary of all the military terms Steve and Bucky say during missions. You couldn’t take directions. Besides overpowering the strongest guy in Kansas during a championship, you’d never learned how to combat fight. You have no clue where to hit someone or how hard so you don’t do fatal damage. You were written up on your first mission.

Your adrenaline was pumping and you thought the gunman was bigger than what he was, causing you to dent his chest in, instantly killing him. The punch was meant to lay him out, not kill him. You’d been reminded time and time again during initial training that the goal was to subdue, shield rehabilitates these criminals.

So now training was mainly a mental game for you. Sizing people up, you were no use against magicians or witches but physically, you worked hard to discern people’s capabilities. You’d never trained with Bucky or Steve before. You’d never fought against a super soldier, you couldn’t even imagine their strength. Therefore, you’d never opted to train with them.

“No, I’m sorry for waking you.” He says, his eyes tell a completely different story. But you hear some sincerity in his voice. Maybe you were being too harsh to him. He really hadn’t done anything wrong, yet. You were the one who assumed he was drunk, you were the one who enjoyed him innocently helping you clean his mess. If you put aside all your wild ideas, Bucky had actually been very nice to you.

While no one had made any progress in talking to you or really even introducing themselves, Bucky was willing to sit with you and enjoy a bowl of cereal, alone. No other outside force willing him to be there. He’d apologized after spilling milk on you, helped clean it. He wasn’t even looking, and you were speed walking behind him, what if it truly was just an accident. Here you were being rude to the only person who’s shown you kindness.

You wanted to hit yourself. Mentally you were painting your back porch red. Guilt was slowly filling you as you watch him drop his head, nodding as if he’s finally realizing the situation, you wanted him to leave. But not anymore, “Let me get dressed, 5 minutes!” You wait for him to look up at you before you close the door in his face, you could see his smile return, but this time it looked triumphant and genuine.

You want to play this game with him, you knew that much. So why not make a big move and wear your new sports bra set with matching spandex shorts. You’d never worn just a sports bra, and always wore leggings. Your best friend convinced you that you looked good in it, so Nike gladly took your money. This would surely prove your suspicion, were his intentions innocent?

You looked in the mirror, pushing and pulling at your breast in the tight spandex. Your cleavage had to be perfect for this to work. You rolled down the waistband of the shorts, letting it show off your curves. You run to the bathroom to do your morning routine. Walking out of your door in less than the 5 minutes you estimated. You had no idea why you had such a pep in your step. As if you were rushing back to him.

“Thanks.” You say taking the coffee from his hands. He stands there frozen as you turn for the elevator, he watches your ponytail sway across your shoulders, then he lets his eyes travel down, to see your back dimples on display. This one he would fight for, his improvised plan didn’t work last night, he’ll admit his ego was hurt a little by his advances not working. So he gave you another chance with coffee this morning.

It almost didn’t work, he was showing real sadness when you rejected him again, but out of self pity, not because you were being rude. But it worked, and you folded. Judging by the way you’re dressed, he knew you were playing along with him. He would win in the end, he always does. Besides, you’d be an adversary opponent and the best prize.

You wish you could’ve told him black coffee wasn’t really your style, but you had too much pride, sipping it empty on the way down to the training floor. Bucky would probably go left to the gym, and you’ll go right, to the simulation room. It was handy for someone like you. Training with real people was a liability, so holograms it was. “See you later.” You nod to him.

“Where you going? I thought we were training together.” He sounds disappointed. “Oh you meant like the two of us? I thought it was a wake up call, not an invite.” You scratch the back of your neck, kind of embarrassed. “I figured you could use the change of scenery.” He laughs.

You follow him into the gym, a place you’d only been once, during the orientation tour. It was huge, needing the capacity to handle super hero’s being thrown around. Bucky walks over to a bench, setting down his coffee cup and shedding his windbreaker jacket. You toss your empty cup in the trash can beside the door, slowly walking up to him. “So what did you have in mind?” You ask, nervous as to what exactly you had gotten yourself into.

“First some basic warm up drills, then I figured I could help you with that strength depth perception.” He grabs two jump ropes from the wall and tosses one your way. “Fury was worried about you at the last meeting.” You roll your eyes, of course he was.

“I didn’t know you discussed me at meetings.” You say, starting to jump rope. He joins you a second later, going miles faster than you. “We discuss everything, especially things that could be a liability.”. He wasn’t wrong, it rubbed you wrong that you couldn’t defend yourself at these meetings. But you understood why they did it, you killed a man.

“Right.” You huff out, stopping and dropping the jump rope, you had no endurance. Bucky continues for another minute, the rope turning into a blur as it whizzed around him. You ran the track around the perimeter of the gym, till you legs felt like jelly. Again, Bucky kept going, literally running laps around you.

When he came to a jog in place in front of you, you took in the fact that no sweat had formed on his brow, meanwhile you left a puddle in the floor when you stood up. “Okay, let’s start with defense.” He brings his fist to face level and you match his stance. “We both know you have offense covered. But what about protecting yourself. Other people are strong too.” He made a good point.

You had beginners luck, dodging the first punch Bucky threw at your stomach. The second, not so much. You suck in a breath when his metal fist makes contact with your rib. “You’re supposed to block!” He sounds upset, like he was the one who just got hurt. “Yeah I got that.” You wheeze out, dropping to your knees, clutching your stomach.

Just as you’ve almost composed yourself the door to the gym swings open. “Are you ready for complete destruction, son?” It’s Steve walking in, but his face immediately drops when he sees you. “Excuse me.” He’s obviously embarrassed. You just look at Bucky and try to hold in a laugh. “Seriously?” You whisper, his cheeks are red but he nods.

“I’ll take that as my cue.” You say, waddling over to the vending machine in the corner. The blue on the Aquafina label reflected in your eye. You’re gonna die if you don’t get a drink. You tap your Apple Watch to the card reader, typing in A5, as you watch your water bottle be mechanically maneuvered around through a glass window you hear whispering. “She needs a snack already?”

You don’t know who said it, just that someone did, you didn’t turn around. Preferring to pretend it didn’t happen, you grab the water from the machine, drinking the whole thing in a couple chugs. You smash it between your hands, completely flattening it to the width of paper. It was loud, the cracking of the plastic, it silenced their hushed words. As you toss it into the trash can beside the door, you turn around and address both men.

“Thirst and hunger are two different things, wouldn’t you say?” And you leave, pushing past Natasha in the hallway as you make your way to the simulation room.

Taglist: @cjand10 @winterslove1917 @honestlywork @calwitch

[wh0reforoldmen]

I'm Sorry

Pairing: Softdark!Lumberjack! Bucky X Fem!Reader

warnings: Angst, fluff??, manipulation, implied imprisonment, implied dubcon/noncon depending on how you interpret it, Not beta red, written on my phone while sleep deprived, tell me if I missed anything.

word count: 1.13k

summary: You made Bucky mad, and he makes you apologize for your "wrong doing"

You didn't hear the door slam, you didn't even hear him come into the house or walk upstairs and open the door.

"Honey," he spoke from the doorway, his voice soft and soft and smooth.

You sucked up a breath and slowly lifted your head, the ache at the back of your neck made you wince. Your arms and legs were bound to the bed so you couldn't escape.

Bucky had two things in hand, a small thin box and something that looked like a bouquet. The black room made it hard to tell just from the light behind him.

"Hey there," he greeted, turning on the lights with a smile on his face.

Wincing at the sudden brightness, you closed your eyes and waited to adjust to the light before opening them. The first thing that caught your eye wasn't the gifts, but how sweaty he was, his red and white chequered flannel shirt was open revealing his chiselled and toned chest, his skin sheen with sweat, his hair was scruffed up, strands escaped the hair tie and was free to go wild, a few strands sticking up from his scalp. You couldn't lie, he always looked good after chopping down some trees, and while he's doing it is even better. Some days if you wake up early enough, you can hear him grunt and groan, followed by the sound of wood splitting.

Shaking your head and clearing your mind, your eyes wander to the gifts; a box of your favourite chocolate and a bouquet, bright red and fresh roses and soft pink tulips with other flowers and green decorations you didn't know the name of. It was nice, considerate even, but it was from him. And you didn't want anything from him.

"You like them? I picked them myself, thought of you," he explained with a smile, walking over to you, his heavy boots making the floorboards creak with every step. You still wonder how he gets around the house with no shoes in silence.

"Don't want them," you hissed, turning your head and facing away from him.

A month you've been here. A month being in this room. A month being in this house unwillingly. You just walked passed his shop a few months ago, and here you are, tied to a bed so you can't escape, no one looking for you, and with James fucking Barnes. The hot lumberjack who is the most fucked up person you've ever met!

Bucky was stunned at your words, he gets up at the ass crack of dawn to work, and then he feeds you and cares for you even when you're having a bad day. He thought it'll be nice to treat you, but this is how you repay him?

"I'm sorry?" He asked as it came out as a chuckle, keeping his anger at bay.

"You heard me! I. Don't.want.them." You spat, turning your heat, eyebrows furrow, your jaw tight before you looked away again.

The control over his anger snapped.

"Listen here, missy!" He yelled, grabbing your shirt and yanking you towards him, earning him a gasp.

"I'm the only one who works around here; I feed you, I look after you, I make sure you're comfortable, I make sure that you're happy here. And this is the thanks I get?" He snarled. "I try my damn hardest, and this is what I get. Someone who is an ungrateful girl! Thanks, it lets me know I'm appreciated around here!"

He threw you back down on the bed, bouncing at the force as you watched him storm out, slamming the door behind him and storming down the stairs. You didn't know when you started to cry but you felt the hot tears trickle down your cheeks. You hated yelling in general, and that lost you. You hated it.

You kept your sobs at bay as you laid down on the comfortable bed, the soft pillows embarrassing you and your tears. You couldn't even hug yourself since the restraints were too short.

You stared at the blank ceiling as tears continued to flow. You didn't get it though. You were crying over him yelling at you. He was upset. And that made you upset. Why? It shouldn't have! What's happening?

It took you a few minutes to calm down but the sounds of Bucky grunting and the sound of the logs being split in two in one or two hits wasn't a good sign.

You turned to your side and listened to his grunts as they lulled you to sleep, the pillow still wet on your cheek.

Bucky had walked back in a few hours later, his anger gone and what was left was hurt. He wanted to care for you. He loves you! Yes, he did take you from your home, but it was for a good cause! You love him too. He knows it. You may not yet, but he knows that deep down in that big heart of yours, you love him and you'll forgive everything that he's done.

He sighed as he made his way upstairs with a glass of water. He saw red when he was yelling at you, but when he heard the soft sobs after he walked out made his heart shatter into a million pieces. But it is what you deserve. You're in his house, and he rests you like a guest but you're rude. Hopefully, you've learnt.

Slowly, he opened the door to your room and smiled as he saw you sleeping peacefully. You did look a little uncomfortable due to the soft rope, but he had to ensure you weren't going anywhere.

Bucky silently walked over to you, sliding off his shoes and quietly laying next to you on top of the covers. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to his chest. You must have woken up from it because you looked behind you, your face had fear written all over it.

"I do anything for you, I do everything. I thought that you'd like them, but apparently not…" he mumbled, shaking his head "think you have something to say to me,"

Your brain screamed at you to not say anything, to keep your eyes away from his, but your eyes met his beautiful blue ones. The softness towards you, the love and admiration no one ever gave you. "I'm sorry, Bucky. Having a bad day…" you whisper, looking down. "I do like them I just… miss home,"

"This is your home, honey. I promise, it will look better than this with our children, but baby steps," he smiled, planting a kiss on your head before kissing down your cheek, to your neck.

"I think I have an idea how to cheer you up,"

[fridayiaminlove]

Just need sleep, together if possible

Pairing: Bucky x reader (can be platonic or not) (descriptions of the reader: has a foot, a hand and is able to speak)

Summary: Bucky wants sleep and his body needs it. He doesn't want to be alone though.

Warnings: warmth, sleeping with someone on the same bed (non sexually), slight insecurity on Bucky's side

Word count: 350- 400 ish?

----------_----------_-----------_----------_---

You heard the click of the door opening and immediately knew who was there. Keeping your eyes shut and breathing even, you wait, wait for his next move.

You meant it when you told Bucky he can come to your room to sleep, to talk or just for silent company whenever he wants.

His brooding closed off personality is a great front but you know he doesn't like his cold, dark room, doesn't like sleeping on the floor or his bed and after the first time he slept in your room because of a nightmare, you told him he's always welcomed. Since then you always leave space on one side of the bed . No one likes being lonely

You also know if you woke up and told him to come in he'd just be embarassed and make some excuse to go back, so you remain there, still as possible.

_---------------------_

Bucky was overthinking this he knew that. He knew you were serious about him sleeping in your room, still ofcourse he felt like an invader.

But god he wanted to sleep, his floor is rock and his bed a marshmallow, his mind doesn't allow him to sleep on either of those.

You though, are very comfortable- your bed he means. It's warm, he likes it- he likes you, And right now he likes sleep.

He creeps inside, slowly closing the door behind him, trying not to wake your sleeping form, facing away from him. He lies down in the empty space beside you, you always seem to sleep in a corner.

'What now' his mind wonders staring at the ceiling uncomfortably still. 'God this is a bad idea'

He starts to get up. You turn. He stares. You don't.

Lifting your body slightly, you pull the sheets over him ultimately stopping him from going back. Bucky studies you, so close to his vibranium arm now.

Before lying back down you raise the sheets with your foot and throw them over his feet.

Safe.

He watches you lie back down and close your hand around his, pressing your forehead to his bicep "I am here okay, whenever" you whisper before moving back to your side.

Warmth. The sheets are warm.

Comfort. His shoulders drop

Relief. He's glad he came.

------------------el

A/n: just a short blurb I wrote at 2am. Constructive criticism is needed. Help. All mistakes are mine.

[marvelvillian23]

Does anyone know a marvel, supernatural, Teen wolf, or original work on Ao3(tumblr too) when the oc/reader is plus size? Like shy/sweet and the omc is a bad boy/mean at first. Any plus size really story.

It would be nice if it was a series but I’ll take anything. It could be fluff, dark, or angst? I do not care at this point.

I’m also in the mood for bully x nerd so if anyone has some that’s not plus size, that’s fine please send my way. Also mean obsessive teacher. Because I can’t find any.

[nickfowlerrr]

series masterlist

part one • part two • part three • part four

happy golden days of yore • 5

pairing: dark!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. 18+ ONLY. noncon smut. pet names.

words: 2.9k

notes: sorry i’m posting late i totally forgot to do this earlier. thank you all for reading and interacting with this story - hope you’ve all enjoyed it! 🖤

How to kill two hours in a cabin alone with a man you’d just found out had stolen your underwear and used them to masturbate with not 24 hours ago. It was a thick silence between you and Bucky as you meandered around the kitchen, making toast and tea to try and calm your nerves. It was almost 7:30 at that point and Bucky had told you the shop in town didn’t open until 10. You’d leave around 9:30, go get a battery, come back up here and Bucky would replace it for you, then you’d be off. You just had to kill two hours..

You ate the toast slowly, taking sips of tea between bites. You were feeling so sick, not sick sick, but like you were anxiously waiting for something to happen. An uneasiness was settling in the pit of your stomach. Bucky, thankfully, had left, leaving you alone in the kitchen. You weren’t sure where he was or what he was doing, but you were glad he was making himself scarce for the time being. Your breakfast helped you kill a good twenty minutes or so.

You finished the toast and took your plate to the sink, rinsing it off as Bucky suddenly appeared from the living room. You didn’t spare him much of a glance as you dried off the plate, briefly meeting his eye before you turned your back to him.

“You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked, the concern in his gaze evident as opposed to the accusatory way he had looked at you when he found you in his room earlier, and that perturbed you slightly.

“Yeah, I’m,” you took a breath, “I’m fine. Just worried about my car,” you fibbed.

“You don’t need to,” he assured you. “It’ll be fine.”

You just nodded lightly as you turned back to the table to grab your mug. You wanted to keep your space from him. Something felt different now, you couldn’t deny the anxiety that was spiking when he was around now.

“You look really nice, by the way,” he complimented.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” you accepted with a tight lipped smile, the memory of last night flashing through your mind as you fought an unbidden shiver that threatened you. “Makeup does wonders,” you forced a laugh.

“No, that’s all you, doll. You always look nice. You’re gorgeous,” he moved closer to you with each word until he was right up against your back. You stood straight and turned to face him, your eyes wide as you looked up at him. Now, you weren't thin or ‘small’ by any means, nowhere near it, but your frame was still considerably smaller in comparison to his imposing stature.

You were frozen, you didn’t know what to do. His flesh hand came up to stroke your cheek as he was staring at your lips. You were essentially trapped between him and the table so you didn’t have anywhere to go. He leaned in to kiss you and you turned your face as you gasped almost indiscernibly. His lips met your cheek and you tried to lean further back into the table to get some space.

“What are you doing?” you breathed, voice quiet and shaky.

“Don’t worry, doll, it’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you,” he said softly, speaking as if you were lovers as opposed to the strangers you really were. You whimpered as you leaned further away from him, his hand now on your jaw, turning you to face him. He leaned closer and kissed you, softly at first before it turned harsher all the while you were squirming, and pushing at his chest to get him to back off of you.

When he finally relented, you were gasping for air, shoving as far away from him as you could. You got across the kitchen, clutching your chest as you stared at him, shock and fear clear on your face.

“What is wrong with you?” you asked incredulously.

He looked at you like you’d just tried to slap him.

“Don’t do that, sweetheart. I know you feel this between us. I see the way you look at me. It’s obvious there’s something here,”

“Are you insane?” you said, voice bordering on shrill.

Bucky didn’t seem to react well to that. His jaw tensed and he narrowed his eyes at you, the cold blue in them nearly freezing you to the spot.

“I’m not insane,” he answered, voice hard as he took a step toward you.

You realized you were now in the exact positions you’d been in when you first met him those few days ago. As he took another step forward, you did the exact same thing you had done previously. You made a run to the living room, heading straight to the garage door. You didn’t know what you were going to do once outside, but getting away from the unhinged avenger across from you was really your main focus.

You grabbed onto the handle and tried to open the door to no avail. You were shaking the knob in your hand as Bucky calmly walked into the room.

“It’s not gonna open, doll,” he informed you. You let go of the handle and turned to him slowly, your breathing heavy. You were terrified. Here you were standing in front of a very well connected man, a hero to the masses, as he told you you were now locked in this cabin with him. “New locking mechanism. Just installed it. Needs a code,” he said as he held his phone up in front of you, showing you the pin pad on some sort of app.

“What are you doing, Bucky? Seriously, what do you want from me?”

“Please don’t look so scared,” he said, voice much softer now. “I’m not going to hurt you, I would never hurt you.” He approached you while you had your back pressed up against the door, chest heaving and you didn’t even realize you were shaking slightly with fear.

“What do you want?” you asked again, on the verge of begging.

“You,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I want you. I know how happy we could be together-”

“You don’t even know me,” you objected, cutting him off.

“I can tell. You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of, doll. This is fate, you being here, us meeting like this. You’re perfect for me. I can be perfect for you, too if you give me the chance.”

He claimed he wasn’t insane, but there was clearly something very wrong here. These sounded like the ravings of a madman.

“Bucky,” you shook your head as a stray tear fell, “please. I just want to go home. We can, we can talk. Later. We can. We’ll- we’ll set something up. I’m coming back in a few weeks, right? We could..we could have dinner? Just, take things slow. If you really think we’d be good together, we can try. The right way. Not like this, not by keeping me here. Please,” you nearly whispered your last word as you tried to reason with him. All you wanted to do was leave. You didn’t feel safe and he was only getting closer.

It looked, for just a second, that he was going to back off. There was this look in his eyes, he almost looked sad, guilty maybe. But then he spoke.

“I can’t do that, doll. You’re here now. I don’t think I can just let you go. It’ll be okay, you’ll see. You belong with me. I promise, you won’t have to worry about a thing. We can just go on like we were. It’s been nice, hasn’t it? And now we won’t have to pretend or fight or hide our feelings, our attraction to each other. It’ll be great. We’ll be great.”

His hands were on you again, cupping your face as he looked into your eyes. The sincerity there was real and you found yourself even more upset at what was happening.

Bucky wasn’t just sexually attracted to you. He was clearly borderline obsessed. He wanted to be with you in every way, not just to have sex with you. You didn’t know if that was better or worse.

You still didn’t know what to do. You didn’t have a way out, and even if you did, what chance did you stand against him? You were trapped. Cornered. Caught.

You didn’t move as Bucky leaned down, his lips finding your neck. He was kissing you, sucking and nipping lightly every so often. You were staring straight ahead, just hoping he’d stop of his own accord and come to his senses. You were tense against him as his hands came down to wrap around you, holding you closer to him. When he moved to the front of your jeans, you finally moved again.

“No, Bucky, please, don’t - don’t do that,” you rushed out, begging as you tried to get away from him once more, and failing as he kept his grip.

It was like he couldn’t even hear you as he just snapped the button off your jeans and began to push them down. You were hitting him anywhere you could, but it didn’t phase him in the slightest. He could only get the jeans about halfway down your thighs before he effortlessly threw you over his shoulder. Your legs were essentially stuck together with the way your jeans were tight against your thighs. You yelped at the sudden jolting and were kicking your feet as best you could. Still, it didn’t affect him at all as he walked up the stairs with you. You were beating on his back, trying to wriggle out of his hold. Before you knew it, though, you were being unceremoniously dumped onto his bed. You were on your back and Bucky had your pants the rest of the way off within seconds of your landing. It took you a moment to get a hold of your bearings but when you did, you scurried away from him on the bed. He took the time you weren’t struggling to undo his belt and rid himself of his jeans as well before he crawled onto the bed with you, grabbing you and pulling you to him with no effort at all. His lips were on yours once again as you whimpered and struggled against him. He pushed you down flat onto the bed, straddling you as he pinned your arms above you while you cried.

‘Bucky, please,” you pleaded softly through your tears as he stared longingly down at you. He was hovering above you as your knees were bent up.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’ll be gentle.”

His words only made you cry harder as you began to accept your fate. There was no way you could fight him off and he clearly wasn’t going to give in to your pleading and cries.

You went limp beneath him and he let go of your hands, allowing his own to travel beneath your sweater as he laid between your still bent legs. He trailed his hands softly against your tummy and up your torso before he began squeezing your breasts through your bra, his lips attaching to your neck again as you laid there. You shuddered when you felt his erection as he began grinding against your still clothed core.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried not to focus on the pleasure it stoked in you when he rubbed against your clit. His hands left your breasts and went to the band of your thong, pulling it down easily.

He moved down your body as his hand found your pussy, rubbing you while you bit your lip to keep the moan from tumbling past them.

“I knew you wanted this just as badly as I did,” he whispered against your skin. You shook your head in protest and uttered pathetically. “I never said I wanted this.”

“You don’t have to say it, sweetheart. Your body is speaking for herself. I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll, you’ll see. You’ll be crying for more by the time we finish.”

He slipped two of his fingers inside of you and you couldn’t hold in the gasp it elicited, though you tried.

“‘Sokay, doll, you’re okay,” he murmured as his lips trailed your lower belly to your thighs.

He curled his fingers against you, stimulating your most sensitive spots as he did. He pumped his fingers in and out rhythmically as you writhed on the bed. After a bit, his thumb found your clit and he rolled it expertly as your thighs tightened around him, every muscle in your body tensing as a hot white pleasure was building more and more with each roll of his thumb in sync with the thrusting of his fingers deeper and deeper inside of you.

“There you go, baby, just like that. Let it happen, sweetheart. Come for me,” he instructed huskily.

You cried out as the pleasure expounded, lighting you up inside as you came on his fingers.

“Good girl,” he praised as he worked you gently through the high, “good girl.”

He sat up and removed his shirt before he inched your sweater up and pulled it over her head. He made quick work of your bra, eyes lighting up as your breasts spilled from the cups. His hands immediately going to cup them himself and you had to look away as he toyed with you, squeezing and groping them before his attention was on your nipples. Pinching and teasing your sensitive peaks as you squirmed and whimpered.

You refused to look when he removed his briefs, his heavy cock erect against him.

He took himself in one hand and pumped his shaft twice before he leaned into you, pushing just the tip inside of you.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned. “You're so tight, sweetheart,” he gritted out.

“Please, stop,” you cried again as he moved just the tiniest bit. “Please, Bucky, please,”

“I know, it’s gonna hurt a little bit, but I’ll go slow. I’ll make it feel nice, I promise,” he breathed out as he leaned over you now.

He pushed in further and you whimpered at the stretch. It was a burning sensation, but as he moved further inside of you, began rocking against you, the pain slowly turned into pleasure as he moaned and grunted above you. His hands found your hips and he held you down as he fucked you, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

You tried to fight it, but that same feeling started building again while his thick cock hit all the right places inside of you as he rocked his hips against yours, his pace never faltering and his lips finding your own again. He leaned his forehead against your own and you squeezed your eyes shut while he stared at you. There was no malice in his eyes and it was then you decided it was worse knowing he wasn’t just doing this to fuck you, but because he wanted you in every way he could possibly have you.

“Please,” you murmured one last time as his pace picked up and he began to lose his rhythm. His hand moved to your clit again and he began to rub figure eights against it as he felt your walls tightening around him. “Jesus christ, doll, you’re squeezing me so tight. You gonna come, sweetheart?”

A cry was his only response as your hands found his back. You dug your nails into his skin as your body shook with the force of your second orgasm and his continued thrusts.

“Goddamnit,” he nearly growled as he began thrusting in and out of you harder. With a few more thrusts, he spilled inside of you. You gasped as you felt the ropes of his cum shooting along your walls. You had thought you were all cried out, but the sensation renewed the tears in your bleary eyes. He dropped his head into your neck as he nuzzled into you, his arms coming up under you, hugging you to him as you both tried to regain your breathing. You felt him pull out of you and he then pulled you into him as he rolled onto his back, never letting you go.

You laid in his arms, unmoving as he kissed your head and whispered sweet nothings to you. It almost seemed surreal. All of this. Unbelievable. But here you were, living it. Wrapped in the arms of Bucky Barnes, a well known avenger, after he locked you in this cabin and had his way with you. Because he’s convinced himself you were meant to be. That you were made for him. Straight out of his wildest dreams. As if you weren’t a person. Like you didn’t have any dreams yourself. You felt ill, you had no idea what would come next. Not a clue as to what to do now. So you just laid there.

His hands rubbed up and down your back, surely trying to soothe you.

“I told you it’d be good,” he said. “You might be a little sore, but you'll be okay,” he assured you. You took in his words and let the silence grow for a moment.

“Will I?” you quietly murmured, the question barely audible to your own ears. He leaned down and kissed your head again before he squeezed you tightly, letting his thumb rub up and down the softness of your skin.

“Yeah. You will be. I’ve got you, doll, I’m right here. I’ll make sure of it.”

[crowwritesaway]

Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 1/3

“No.” You giggled. You refused to sit on his lap. “Just tell me what she said.” You stared at him. He pouted, stretching out his arms to you. “Come here.” He huskily said, urging you to come into his arms.

“Nuh uh.” You shook your head. He sighed, letting his arms drop. “Here’s a new life lesson.” He stood up and quickly pulled you into his lap. “Bucky!” “Y/N!” His playful said, wrapping his arms around you.

You huffed, staring down at him. “What did she say?” He stared at you. She’s so beautiful. Bucky licked his lips. You stared at him. “Bucky. Hello. Anyone there?” You shifted your weight in his lap. Bucky grunted. “Got your attention.” Bucky nodded his head. “More than my attention.”

“You were saying.” Bucky said, pulling you in closer to his chest. You cleared your throat. “What she want from you?” Bucky leaned back into the chair. “Who?” What girl? You scoffed. “You’re joking. She was just here.” He raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know what you were talking about. “The one that knock at the door and you talked to before you slammed the door shut in her face.”

Bucky sighed. It all came back. Earlier some girl came to the door. What you didn’t know what that girl was your friend. Bucky nodded. “I remember now.” You laughed. “What’s got your mind all preoccupied? Should I be worried?” Bucky smiled. You are what occupies my mind, my soul, and my heart.

“Just you. Nothing else.” You hummed. “Hmm…did she say something to upset you.” Bucky eyes darkened. He felt the anger that had simmered come back for a moment. Your friend has planned to take you out. In response, Bucky slammed the door after saying that you had plans with Bucky. “She spoke out of line. Just nonsense so I closed the door.”

“Alright.” You didn’t question him any further because you saw him staring off which meant he was getting upset. He pulled you down to cuddle. He snuggled into you. “You comfortable.” Bucky was such a teddy bear. Grumpy sunshine. Steve always said he was clingy with you. He glances at the time when he’s away from you. He grumbles about missing you. “You have no idea.” He mumbled into your neck. “Enjoy it while it lasts.” He coldly laughed. “Is that a challenge that I hear?”

“You know there’s a bet that Natasha proposed at the party.” Bucky grumbled. His grip on your hips tighten more. “Nope. That’s not happening.” “Why?” Bucky moved away from your neck to make eye contact. You sat up to look at him. “Why?” He licked his lips before shaking his head. “It’s 48 hours where we can be together. 4 hours is a lifetime without you. I can’t imagine going through 48 hours without seeing you.”

Stay around for more of Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

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[lanabuckybarnes]

Would you write a plus size reader w either bucky or steve(or both) where they are her first real relationship and she gets scared that she doesn't deserve to be with either of them and so she tries to push them away so she doesn't get hurt but instead they show her why she is their person.... like tooth rotting fluff and the filthiest smut..... if that's okay if not no worries

| All Yours, Only Yours |

18+ Minors DNI

✧Pairing✧ Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

✧Warnings✧ A lil angsty, Sharon being a big bully (like seriously you’re 50 and you’re bullying someone? ick), Name calling, Angry Buck, Crying, Bucky is a simp, Confessions, Marking, Dry humping, Oral (F), Fingering (F), Teeny bit of cum play, Dirty talk, Unprotected PinV, Praise, Petnames, My shitty writing — again very tame for me but i didnt want to go overboard. If there any more I’ve neglected to add please let me know.

✧Word Count✧ 4.3K

✧Author Note✧ I really hope you enjoy this and I've done your request justice, I honestly tried my best but idk…Anyways!!! Much love to everyone, please let me know what you think. Love ya xxx

“Still not answering?” Natasha asks from her spot in the cockpit, concern evident from the wrinkle between her brows.

“Nope” he spits his reply, reeling from the whole ordeal. He thrusts his phone into his jean pocket, sick to the back teeth of nothing but a black screen greeting him instead of your sweet little messages.

“Did you piss her off or something?” Sam tries to lighten the mood but is swiftly shut down, his hands rising in surrender at the killer glare the brunette shot his way.

“Calm down everyone, we’ll be home soon so we can figure this out” Steve, the voice of reason commands order within the small confines of the jet. He sits, a gloved hand rubbing over his friend's shoulder trying to reassure his muddled brain but to no avail.

Bucky is pissed. He’s pissed and he’s worried sick. A week he’s been gone for and he’s missing you like crazy. The only issue? You are ignoring him, straight up ghosting his brooding ass which is completely unlike you. Often on missions when Bucky clicks his phone on he’s greeted with a flurry of messages from you; photos of little birds you see on your walks, photos of alpine taken at odd angles and constant little messages that make his heart full and ready to continue his painstaking missions—none of it, just a notification from your favourite restaurant offering a discount to keep him happy.

As soon as this jet landed he was going to get to the bottom of what was going on and then he was going to cuddle you to death as punishment. Not that he’d let anyone else know that.

One Week Earlier…

Beep beep beep. Bucky’s alarm sounds at the ungodly hour of five am, his groan following. He didn't want to get out of this bed, he was too warm, his huge body wrapped around yours. Your movements spurred his own, your arm reaching over to switch off his alarm while he pushed himself into a sit, thoughts already on the mission afoot.

“Morning,” your raspy voice purrs, bringing his attention back to you. His eyes fall to your face; following the slope of your puffy cheeks up to your barely open eyes, your hues peeking through only enough to tease him. Putting his weight on his right arm he’s on top of you before you can blink, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, peppering tiny kisses along the warm skin.

“Morning princess,” he bites back his yawn, shifting so his hips slot in their spot between your plush thighs, loving the way they wrapped around his narrow waist just the way he loved. Practice truly did make perfect. His dark vibranium fingers drifted from your collarbone, over the swell of your breast until it found its favourite perch on your hips.

“So fucking pretty” he breathes, his pupils dilating to let more of you in — until you pushed him away.

“You gotta get ready Mr” you giggle, moving your foot so you could push him further away, ruining his plan B of pinning you down by your hips.

“Don’t remind me…”

His cold left hand hooks around your ankle, pushing at it until your knee hinged, bending up and out. A suspicious hardness presses against you, a wicked smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“I mean it Buck we can’t, Nat will be kicking that door down any minute” he groans at your words knowing that you are completely right. That lock had been replaced an embarrassing amount of times because of that exact situation. You hated rejecting him, knowing that he could easily put you back to sleep until midday if he wanted. After a small standoff between you both you warn him again, an arch in your brow and a growl behind his name.

“You’re such a little tease, you know that?”

You laugh, sitting up, watching him skulk around the room in nothing but his grey Calvin Kleins, “I haven’t done anything!”

“Sure you haven’t” he argues, moving over to you again, his metal fingers looping under your chin to tilt your head back to gaze up at him, “Looking so fucking sexy in the morning and I can’t fuck you stupid. That’s not teasing that’s damn near criminal.”

You groan, rolling your eyes at your pouty 106-year-old man. You inch closer to his mouth, a sickly sweet definitely not bratty smirk on your face. “Get your ass ready.”

“Fine…but only because you looked so fucking sexy ordering me around,”

“Bucky!” You shout after him, blush on your full cheeks. He only smirks over his shoulder, pushing his briefs to the floor at the entrance to the bathroom, giving you a full view of his posterior.

You get up too, knowing you had been awake too long to fall asleep again. You get ready with the shower as background noise, pulling on some workout clothes. Today you decided you’d try out the gym right here in the compound, you’d been to many different ones in the past; often polluted with the smell of days-old sweat and men reeking of testosterone, grunting and groaning at weights you could only dream of lifting.

An hour later, after waving Bucky off on his week-long mission you were in the gym.

“Hey” you smile as you pass Sharon, her blonde hair whipping as she ducks and weaves to dodger imaginary punches the bag throws out before throwing a couple of her own. She offers you a tight-lipped smile, her eyes straying from your face down your body. She takes note of your long top and shorts that settle around mid-thigh compared to her sports bra and tiny shorts — her flat stomach and sculpted legs on display.

God you wish you had just as much ventilation. Just as you go to place your earphones in your ears you hear a scoff coming from Sharon’s direction. You pay it no mind, setting the treadmill for a nice incline and pace, pressing the timer until it shone with the time you wanted.

The treadmill slowed for the cooldown. Your eyes moved from the display in front to glance over your shoulder, the gym was empty. You grab your bottle only to realise thanks to your distraction you'd finished off your water. You stop the treadmill and hop off, making a beeline for the kitchen. The walk to the kitchen from the gym wasn’t that long but with the feeling of your sweat culminating in places you didn’t want it to be it was almost torturous.

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw her,”

A gaggle of hushed laughs comes from the kitchen, stopping you. A familiar dread coils in your stomach, reminding you of when you were young, the children pointing and laughing — joking at your expense.

“she must been on that treadmill for about five minutes and she was all like huff huff” she laughs obnoxiously “Her face was like a big tomato, I almost died trying to keep myself from laughing” Sharon continues.

The group cackles again at your expense, almost doubling as Sharon makes the huffing noise again. You cling to your shirt, pulling it from sticking to your body. These women you thought were friends did just what everyone else did.

“She’s pathetic, I don’t know what Bucky sees in her” Your heart stops. That little devil on your jumps and cheers at the confirmation of what it has been telling you since the start of your relationship with Bucky. You were never enough.

“I can’t wait for him to dump her once he gets sick of her wide load.”

Tears fall on their own accord but you don't register them, too busy inside your head being suffocated by every doubt and self-conscious thought you ever had since you confessed your feelings for the super soldier. You didn't deserve Bucky and everyone thought that too.

Back at your room, freshly clean. You scrolled through your messages from Bucky. The little hearts next to his messages no longer felt genuine like he was only doing it merely to save your feelings from being hurt. You were nothing but a burden that he was forced to bear; it wouldn’t be long before like Sharon said, he got sick of the clinginess and the need for reassurance and broke up with you.

Well, you weren’t going to be a burden any longer. You wouldn’t let him break your heart first. You turned your phone off, tucking it into your bedside drawer.

—

“Bucky wait!” Sam calls from the quinjet but it goes ignored. Bucky’s face is twisted in annoyance as he takes wide, purposeful steps towards the tower doors. He was going to find you and you were going to tell him why the fuck you were ignoring him.

He ignores the shouts of his name as Nat, Steve and Sam follow him indoors, smashing the elevator button with his thumb and stepping inside. Once on your floor, he stormed like a charging bull to your room, slamming a gloved fist on your door in a poor excuse for a knock.

The loud knocking from the other end of the room had you jumping back in your seat, the slee overtaking you gone in an instant. Your heart lurched at the familiar face, worn from exhaustion and malice clear from the scrunching of his forehead and tick in his cheek muscle.

“Oh hello, where have you been?” Bucky snaps, glaring down at you as you use the door as a shield from his scrutinising eyes. Here it comes, the moment you’d prepared for all week. You don’t think you’ll go back to dating apps, too many weird me—

“You know how worried I was when you didn't answer me all week?”

Huh. “Huh?”

“‘Huh?’ Are you joking? You ghosted me, left me scared to death on a mission halfway across the globe and all you can say to me is huh!” His blue eyes glisten and you look at them closer. There was no anger there, only concern and fear culminating in swirls across his blue orbs, rearing its head in rage across Bucky’s face.

“Bucky I—” you try but you can’t find the words, each syllable sticks in your throat, balling up until it feels like you can no longer breathe. The week of bottled-up emotions spills forth at the sight of him — at the revelation that he was utterly terrified. Tears fall from your eyes before you know it, your lip wobbling as you keep trying to speak.

Bucky’s shoulders tense at the sight of tiny tears falling over your full cheeks, guilt replacing his earlier pain,

“Fuck c’mere baby” he pulls you close, bending at an almost uncomfortable angle just to hold you as close as humanly possible.

“I'm so sorry for being so annoyed but you have to see why I was so scared something had happened to you. You left me on read for an entire week and blanked my calls. That isn’t you, you know how scary that was for me?” He whispers so softly, backing you up to sit on your bed.

In his arms, surrounded by his warmth and scent the week you had fell from your mouth like alphabet soup, from the gym to Sharon to how hard it was to ignore your phone knowing that Bucky would’ve been calling you every single day but you did it to protect your own heart. Nothing was kept a secret.

“I’ll kill her,” he growls when you finish, muscles tightening even more around you.

“Buck.”

“Right…sorry, I won't kill her” He lied between his teeth, well sort of. He wouldn’t actually kill Sharon but he knew you'd be upset if he did anything to her which he was indeed planning to do but to save you any more pain for the evening, to keep that teeny tiny smile on your face he lied.

“What makes her think she has any fucking right to speak on other people’s appearance anyway?”

“She wasn't lying…” it came out in the tiniest little voice, maybe your way of silently hoping he didn't hear it and he wouldn’t have if it weren't for his super soldier ears.

Gripping onto your wrists Bucky flipped your world in an instant, the breath leaving your lungs as your back makes contact with the bed, your wrists caught on either side of your head.

“Are you lying to me doll?” He says, raising a brow at you.

“No…”

“You are! You're lying right to my face,” he argues, pressing your wrists further into the mattress below. Your eyes fall shut as his face inches closer to yours.

“Look at me princess,” he waits until you open both eyes again, looking up at him as if he strung the stars in the sky “There is not a single thing that I'd change about you and I mean that. I fell in love with you the way you are now, you aren't some bitch that gets off on making fun of others. I fell head over damn heels for you because you are you.”

His eyes sparkle with adoration, his hands running up and down your body softly. The juxtaposition of metal on one side and warmth on the other sends shivers up your spine.

“I love you,” he breathes, leaning down again till your lips graze his. A teasing smile pulled on the pink corners of his mouth, a similar glint in his eyes, “you know that right?”

“Yes,” you nod, pushing up to close the distance between your mouths but he pulls away.

“I don't think you do,”

“I do Buck I promise.”

“Well…” he began, the glint in his eyes dulling as want engulfed the colour, “let me make sure.”

Bucky takes his time. He has to knowing that you're feeling small. Slowly his lips slot with yours, ushering out sweet little sounds to replace the broken ones that still thrum fresh in his mind.

“I love you,” he says again, capturing your hitched gasp with his tongue as he pushes it past the seam of your mouth, the tip flicking against your own to entice it to mingle. Slowly but surely the tension drips from your shoulders, your arms moving from his grip to trail up over his rigid stomach and chest. They sink below the shoulder pads of his jacket, pushing it off his broad frame and onto the floor beside the bed. Your hands paw at the exposed skin on his arm, fingers squeezing, nails scraping over the corded muscle.

“All of yours…all of it.”

Each time the seal of your mouths broke you chase them, planting kisses teeming with nothing but raw desire onto kiss-bitten lips. The words that Sharon said are long gone from your mind now, replaced by the man in front of you. Everything you smell, taste, touch and see — it's all him.

The brunette slips off his glove; his warm and cold, metal hand grips your hips, pulling you up into his lap with a squeak.

“You feel that?” He grunts, moving from your mouth down your face to your neck. His lips suck and his teeth nibble, marking you, proving to anyone around that dare dispute his love for you again. With undeniable strength he grinds you down into a sizeable bulge poking from his tight jeans, he hisses at the contact, letting a hand fall to your ass with a small spank.

Your arousal seeps through your thin panties making them stick to your dainty folds; your clit buzzes at the delicious scratch the metal of his zip brings you — a gasp catching in your throat every time your neglected nub catches the pull tab.

As much as he worshiped the way you dry-humped his cock, soaking the front of his jeans. Bucky is desperate. After a week of no contact, not even a tiny emoji heart never mind a raunchy photo, he needs something — anything. And he's going to get it.

“Get on the bed” he demands, pushing at you ever so slightly. “Panties off.”

You do as you are told, fingers frantically hooking into the waistband of your underwear, rolling the material over your thick thighs until they hook around a single ankle.

“Spread those legs for me baby, lemme see that sweet little cunt.”

You hesitate for a second, your legs twitching to open but knees knocking again as you close them. Blown pupils snap onto your face his jaw clenched hard and his nostrils flared. Before you can react his calloused hands settle gently, luring you into a false sense of security.

They soothe down your thighs as his blue eyes study you. Inch by inch his dull nails tap over your beautifully wide thighs until he's back at your kneecaps. With a soft unassuming smile, bucky pushes your legs wide, a rush of oxygen leaving you as your sopping folds are exposed to the cool air of the room. He doesn't give you a chance to breathe before a warm hand smacks over your wet folds, your body jerks, an unabashed moan flying from your parted lips.

“Don't fucking deny me this” he growls, fire roaring in his eyes. “You ghosted me for a week, now you're gonna lie there all pretty and let me eat this sweet fucking cunt.”

You nod, biting your lip. At the first presence of him between your legs, his hot breath billowing over your labia, your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Over each fold, ridge and crevice his breath fans, a shiver rolling over your spine each time; without warning he lays his tongue flat and wide, licking a strip from hole to clit. His tongue disappears and he does it again, guttural sounds falling from him at your taste mixing with the sharp trills you let out.

“Sing for me baby, let me know how good I'm making that pretty pussy feel” He delves in like a man starved, devouring your cunt as though it were his first and last ever meal on earth. He'd die happily if it were.

You were a mess, a mess of pleading cries. Your legs shake against his powerful hold, your hands grip his unruly brunette locks. Letting his hands drop from your thighs he stops his slurping to lay a soft, sweet peck on your raw clit. He smiles up at you, his face glistening with your juices visible thanks to the city lights peeking in through your open windows. Your mind wandered, wondering if the people in the building across could see the way Bucky fucked his tongue into you, curling the long muscle up to press against that ridged spot on your upper walls — he hit it with ease every time.

Using your distraction as an advantage bucky moves a hand to join his mouth, sliding his fingers in alongside his tongue for a second before he pulls his tongue from you. He moves, looming over you with a massive shit-eating grin at how much he unravelled you. you should've been embarrassed at how wet his face was; slick ran from his stubbled upper lip over and below his chin. You had done that to him and he wore it proudly. His fingers push deeper and curl out, coaxing the coils in your stomach to snap.

“Come on baby I know you feel it” he speeds up, the sound of your messy pussy almost as loud as your harsh breaths and whimpers.

“Buckyyy” you squeal, gripping at anything you can.

“That's it, baby…you're squeezing around my fingers, are you gonna cum?”

You nod but it's not enough for your man. He dips, nipping at a pebbled nipple and that's all it takes for those tightly coiled ropes to pull taut and snap. A sound you've never heard from yourself erupts from your lungs, your fingers clutching at bucky, the sheets, anything. Stars peppered your vision, blocking out the smug image of your boyfriend, blood rushing in your ears muffling his words of praise.

“Come back to me baby, that's it, good girl. such a good girl” Bucky coos, his fingers slipping out to rub lazily at your clit. He keeps going until you jerk harshly in his hold.

“You did so well, such a good fucking girl cumming like that for me” He praises, kissing your cheek and then your mouth, a smirk pulling at his lips when you moan at your taste.

You flash him a big dopey smile in return, your eyes hazy and your plump little cheeks flushed. You look gorgeous; Bucky had seen many things in his long drawn-out life but nothing could ever compare to how you looked fucked out beneath him.

He would stay like this forever…if his cock wasn't aching for release.

He stands, fiddling with his belt and fly until it comes loose. He wastes no time in pushing them both past his round ass and onto the floor, his cock springing free. His shirt goes next, thrown somewhere in your small room letting you get the full experience of what Bucky had to offer you. Layers of corded muscle ripple beneath his silky but scarred skin, his chest peppered in tiny curly hairs that sink below his sternum and over his abs where they begin to thicken until they finish, well trimmed at the base of his thick, heavy cock.

His eyes never stray from your body as he takes himself in his hand, pumping once, twice, his thumb catching the precum leaking from his tip. He kneels back between your welcoming legs, rubbing his slick thumb over your lips. A hushed chuckle vibrates in his chest as you suck the thumb into your mouth, eagerly licking his taste from the digit.

“Such a dirty girl,” you giggle, pulling back until his thumb slips out of your mouth with a pop. “Do you think you can handle one more hm? Can you let me fuck that little hole?”

“yes Buck” you smile, your eyes falling shut as he kisses you again.

“good girl” he growls, moving your legs over his own before grabbing a pillow to squish under your hips. With one hand he pushes the head of his length through your mess, dipping into your hole before running back up over your clit. He does it a few times, occasionally slapping his cock against you, praising each tiny sound you let out.

“Please Buck” You toss your head back, grinding your hips up to meet nothing. At this rate, you were going to come to nothing more than his teasing.

“Please what?” Oh he's a piece of shit. He knows what you want because he wants it too. He waits for a beat, enjoying your huffs of frustration. “Tell me and I'll do it.”

With the last of your sanity, you cry out, “fuck me buck ple—ah”

You slap a hand over your mouth as he spears into you, stretching you like he does time and time again. It never gets any easier with a size like Bucky’s; his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust and your walls sing at the almost painful stretch.

Bucky’s thrusts are delightfully slow, letting you feel each drag and push, each rigid vein on his pulsing cock. There is no fucking involved, he's making love, making sure you know that he would spend eternity wrapped up in your body no matter what size you are. The deep coloured marks along your neck and between your thighs would attest to that.

“Fuck” he moans, mouth gaping. “Don't think ill last long princess” His vibranium fingers fall to your soft belly, skating over the smooth skin to your full hip.

He squeezes hard enough to leave marks, “fucking mine.”

His thrusts speed up, his head snapping back and eyes rolling. His balls bounce rhythmically against your ass, the bulbous head of his cock smashing into the end of your cunt where a dull ache forms — a warning of future hurt when you wake tomorrow. You don't care, not when his free hand dips between you both, pulling back the hood of your sensitive nub and flicking it over and over.

He feels the way you tighten around him, holding him in a vice grip, “hold it princess, just a little longer come on”

“I can't Bucky please” you whimper in response.

“Yes, you can baby—oh fuck I'm close” his weight falls atop yours, smothering you in him. His hips stutter, his balls pulling up towards his body.

“Cum now, soak my big fucking dick.”

The slamming of the headboard ceases when his thrusts slow to shallow grinding, his mouth swallows any sounds you let out.

“Such a good fucking girl for me—shit” he sighs, slips from you with a hiss.

“Buck—”

“Shh pretty girl you're alright” he holds you close for a while, holding you tight to his broad body. Tears fall from your cheeks but he swipes them away. You don't know why you ever doubted Bucky, he's the only constant in your life.

“I love you” He whispers as the blood rushing in your ears settles, running through your veins in exhaustion.

“I love you too”

“Don't you ever listen to those idiots again, because I will show you over and over what you mean to me” Bucky promises with a kiss on the crown of your head.

You smile, laying your own lazy kiss over your thumping heart. You like the sound of that.

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes and Asks are always appreciated, however if you like this fic please consider reblogging to help it reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what I read and give me motivation to write more.

Thanks for reading~

[jesevans]

Don’t mind her. She’s just fine sitting on the floor in the hall. She’ll figure it all out.

(Btw, I love that all these women have cute ie names.)

Paradigm Shift 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you get transferred to a new position but it's hardly a breath of fresh air. (plus!reader)

Characters: Loki, Bucky Barnes, this reader is known as Billie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“So, I’m sending you over to logistics,” Mr. Odinson nearly knocks over your pen cup as he sits on the corner of your desk. He gargantuan figure makes you fear for the integrity of the furniture beneath him. “I trust you can keep things tidy there.” 

You want to ask why you but don’t dare. Thor can be pleasant enough. Personable, friendly even, but you’ve also heard how his voice turns to thunder when he’s angry. You’re not shy of the stories either. Wandering eyes and hands. You don’t think they’d ever find you but you’d rather steer clear of the risk. 

“Logistics?” You wonder. 

“Mm, yes, my brother and his new partner,” he waves his hand dismissively, “they’re in need of a desk jockey to mind their dates. When I tell you how many meetings I’ve shown up to and met only an empty table.” 

“Uh, yes, sir, that sounds... bad,” you eke out. 

“Mm, yes,” his eyes flick up and down, “as it were, Fandral said you did rather well on his little task force so you will go down and sort them out. I would warn you but it better you find out for yourself. Perhaps those two will not be so difficult for one such as yourself, eh?” 

He taps the tip of your nose and you blink in surprise. You’ve witnessed it before. A bit too touchy for HR’s liking but they don’t do anything about it. After all, if you make money, then who cares how you behave? 

“When do I... start?” You ask. 

“Now,” he shrugs, “suppose sooner is better.” 

“Now?” You can’t help the shock in your voice and he narrows his eyes, “yes, sir. Um...” 

“There are boxes in the copier room, pack up your things, they should be expecting you... I think,” he stands and scratches his beards, “who’s to say if they read the email.” 

You’re hardly feeling good about this. He hasn’t said one thing that’s made you confident in your reassignment. You prefer the familiar and after two years, this is finally comfortable. Of course you’re the sacrifice they’ve chosen. Now you have start all over again. 

You get up as Odinson leaves and you head off to the copy room. You find an empty paper back and return to your desk. You put your pen cup inside, your ergonomic keyboard and mouse, the next person can put in a request, and you empty your single drawer into the bottom. You put your bag and coat on top and bid a wordless goodbye to your cubicle. No one else even seems to notice as you pack up your laptop. 

Logistics. You’re not even sure where that would be. You stick to your little corner of the company and keep your head down. 

You look it up in the office directory. A whole floor down. You get on the elevator and bob impatiently as you descend. You step off and march toward your fate. You slow as you pass between the desks of clacking keys and the smell of stale coffee. No one looks very happy. Even if they gossip terribly upstairs, at least they’re lively. 

No one looks up as you stroll by. Right. Where exactly do you go. You’re not seeing a free desk. You near a door with a placard on it. Laufeyson, Odinson’s brother. You glance over to the next door. Barnes, a newly acquired consultant. Alright. 

You knock on the first door and wait. And wait. And wait. You tap a little harder and hear shuffling from within. You step back as the door opens with a harsh swing inward. 

“What do you--” The tall main with his oily black locks stops himself mid-sentence and tilts his head, “and who are you?” 

Your eyes round. Does he not know? Your brows arch and nearly meet in the middle. You frown. 

“Your brother--” 

“Secretary,” another voice grits like gravel from behind you. “Remember?” 

You turn as the blue-eyed man blows across a mug and tastes his coffee. His hair hangs around his square jaw, a thicker set than the other man. You glance between him and Mr. Laufeyson, “secretary? Well, not exactly, your brother sent me for clerical--” 

“Secretary,” Laufeyson insists, “very well. Suppose it will ease the burden of tracking those mindless check-ins,” he makes a sarcastic quotation with his fingers, “as you will. Send a ticket to IT, have them add you to my calendar.” 

The door closes as swiftly as it opened and you stagger back. You look over at the other man as he approaches the next office and rests his grip on the handle, “My partner, Loki Laufeyson; Bucky Barnes,” He motions to himself with his cup, “send that ticket in and add my name.” 

“Yes, sir, but er, wait, I--” 

He just as quickly dismisses you with the open and close of his door. You stand dumbly in the hall and look around. What a warm welcome. You look down toward the bullpen of desks and further down the hall. So, where are you supposed to work? 

You pace up and down the short hallway. You find a closet full of old mice and keyboards, and the breakroom with its worn-out coffee maker and humming fridge. You can’t exactly work in either.  

You sigh and return to the hall. You plunk yourself down between the doors of your new bosses and open your laptop to balance on the box. You sit on your jacket and keep your purse against your thigh as you sit on your feet. You open up the support portal and file the ticket; first task done. You have to wait for access until you can do anything else since neither of them seem to want to explain very much. 

You shake your head. Why on earth did you think it couldn’t get worse? It surely feels like a demotion to be sat on the carpet with cardboard for a desk.

You wonder why you? You suppose you’re not interesting enough for Mr. Odinson to keep around. Still, he doesn’t need to punish you for not being his type. 

Well, so long as you’re paid, you’ll just have to make it work. 

[drabblesandsnippets]

Safe

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

Background: TW: (Past) SA. During times when old traumatic memories start to pop up again (for whatever random reason/trigger), I find myself seeking out art that I can connect with to help me process things. Over the years, I’ve spent endless hours searching for stories/books where the main character is dealing with sexual trauma while also trying to have/maintain a healthy sex life - this is my attempt to write that type of story (without delving into the details of the trauma).

Summary: (4k) TW: (Past) SA. Bucky’s girlfriend craves intimacy while struggling with triggers and flashbacks.

Warnings: 18+ Only. TW: Mention of past SA/trauma (very vague), flashbacks (including during sex), anxiety. Established relationship. Bucky doesn’t always sleep with his prosthetic on (who else has this headcanon?). Fluff. Praise. Enthusiastic consent. Soft and sweet Bucky. Pet names (doll, sweetheart, baby). (Unprotected) PiV. Aftercare.

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

Trauma has a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it. 

One minute, you’re laughing and dancing in the kitchen with your boyfriend, his hands around your waist while he sings a song from the 40’s, and the next thing you know, you’re leaning over the sink, your knees nearly giving out as you try to remember how to breathe. 

All it took was one fleeting press of Bucky against your back and you were suddenly transported to a different time, your mind taking you back to those moments when your life irrevocably changed.

Other times, it’s less conspicuous. 

You’re on the back of his motorcycle, enjoying a peaceful ride outside the city, taking the scenic route to enjoy a bit more time together, when you’re hit with a wave of anxiety. Something in your brain made a connection to the past, and the only signal you can give Bucky is a tighter hold around his torso.

There’s not much that fazes him, given his own history and lingering struggles, but it doesn’t always make it easier. You oscillate between wanting to talk it all out and just wanting to pretend you’re fine - Bucky doing his best to meet you wherever you’re at, trying to ease your burden as best he can.

When you’re really lucky, it’s a momentary thing, your mind allowing the memory to fade so you can focus on the present. When that happens, you get to go weeks, sometimes months, without it happening again.

Of course, you’re not always that lucky. There are times when it invades the rest of your day, seeping into moments it has no business being a part of. Trying to control parts of your life that you swore it’d never touch. 

And then, there are times like now, when it sticks around. When it feels like the smallest thing sets you off, brief flashes of things you’d rather not have to think about playing out behind your eyes. Your body constantly on edge, giving you no reprieve, even when the memories finally fade out.

You’re not sure how many days it’s been, or what the initial trigger even was, your mind too preoccupied with trying not to take a trip down memory lane. The only lifeline you can cling to is knowing you have a partner who supports you as much as you support him, especially during dark times, refusing to give up on each other.

As painful as it all can be, it’s a familiar pattern, one you know you’ll eventually break free of, no matter how turbulent it gets. Until then, you ride the wave, doing everything you can to stay afloat, to allow yourself to continue to live your life, seek out the things that bring you joy and pleasure.

Yesterday was filled with laughter and adventures, Bucky taking you to some of his favorite places, whisking you off to the next destination when your anxiety started to get the better of you. As if he’s made it his mission to help you find your footing again.

Bucky’s love and patience is more than you could have ever hoped for, and as you wake up with him snuggled against your back, in the bed you’ve shared for years, the remnants of your dream trying to take hold, his name spills out of you, filling the dark silence.

In an instant, he’s awake enough to breathe your name in return, his voice husky with sleep as he asks, “You okay? S’wrong, doll?” Bucky’s aware it was probably another nightmare, or maybe a flashback, but he’s learned not to assume anything, giving you the space to decide if and how you want to be heard.

It’s not always that simple. Sometimes your voice can fail you, words getting trapped in your throat as you struggle to focus on the moment. You’re not even sure how to describe what’s happening, other than to admit that you feel on edge, like your skin is crawling, your body growing restless.

Bucky doesn’t need more explanation, his hand leaving its normal resting place on your thigh to slide along your back, his intention clear. His familiar touch draws the expected reaction out of you, a soft sigh of relief as a bit of tension leaves your body, his fingertips dancing across your shoulder blade.

Almost immediately you’re curling up, inviting him to keep going, his reverent touch spreading tingles across your skin. As intimate as it is, there’s nothing inherently sexual about it, Bucky wanting nothing more than to help you relax, to lull you back into a peaceful slumber.

Yet, your body seems to have other ideas, each tender caress of your back sending sparks of arousal to your core. It’s far from the first time, even over the past several days, but it’s yet another aspect of your relationship that gets thrown off balance during times like this.

Any other time, Bucky would read your subtle cues, happily accepting the silent invitation to touch more of you, to bring you unspeakable pleasure. Until you’re back on solid ground though, it’s not an option for him. He can’t risk pressuring you, the thought of adding more stress on top of everything you’re already struggling with too unbearable to him. 

You can’t exactly blame him. When the roles are reversed - when Bucky is dealing with his own trauma, ghosts of his past invading his mind - you follow his lead, offering him nothing more than a place to rest. A safe space, where he’s completely in control.

That’s what he’s been offering you since your brain decided to spend so much time in the past. Intimacy, in whatever form it takes, is on your terms, things never progressing unless you’re vocalizing your desires. 

Bucky’s patience is unyielding. No matter how much your soft, breathy noises of appreciation stir up his need for you, the path of his hand doesn’t alter. His fingertips continue to draw circles across your skin, exploring the contours of your back, as if he hasn’t already mapped every single inch of you. 

One of his favorite things is to touch you. To bring you comfort, to provide safety, and yes, when you allow him, to bring you pleasure. And right now, despite - or maybe because of - the turmoil broiling beneath the service, it’s what you need.

There’s a risk that things might overwhelm you. That you won’t be able to lose yourself in the moment. You try not to think about that, telling yourself that you at least deserve to try, knowing Bucky will help you through it, wherever it leads.

Your request for more remains subtle, a slight shift of your hips, pressing back into him, the evidence of his own arousal growing against your ass. Nothing changes for Bucky, his gentle touch following a trail up along your spine to the back of your neck, his thumb stroking a particular tense spot, refusing to take advantage of your trust in him.

There’s a part of you that wonders if you should just allow yourself to succumb to the sleep that’s threatening to overtake you again, but you miss him. And, as he drags the back of his fingers down to the dip of your waist, you moan softly, your thighs tensing with need, seeking out friction.

Bucky knows exactly what he’s doing to you, each pass of his hand along sensitive flesh making you tremble, goosebumps spreading across your skin. It’s not long before he’s able to smell you, the knowledge that his touch turns you on so much nearly enough to make him lose his resolve.

Somehow he remains steadfast, even as you shift again, arching your back and angling your hips to find more pressure, his erection trapped against the curve of your ass. There’s an ache building inside of him to grind against you, to give you what your body is so obviously asking for, your shuddering sighs encouraging him to keep touching you, waiting for permission that he knows might not come.

It’s more than okay if it doesn’t, Bucky content with easing your burdens in whatever way you’ll allow him. It’s a privilege he’ll never take for granted. 

As is the privilege of getting to bring you more pleasure. And the moment you whisper his name, followed by a barely audible utterance of “please,” he’s asking you what you need. Desperate to give you everything you desire.

It provides the catalyst to empower you to ask for more, telling him how good he feels as you shamelessly rub against him, Bucky’s own heavy breaths and words of love spurring you on. The gentle caress of his fingers never cease, tentatively dipping lower to tease along your hip, and you leave no room for doubt, quickly letting out a needy moan of “yes.”

His reaction comes as no surprise, your consent making him groan, his hard cock throbbing against you. You’re about to reach back, wanting to feel more of him, when you’re triggered without warning, your breath catching and your back stiffening, unwanted images flashing in your head. 

“Are you okay?”

The concern in his voice keeps you in place, choosing to ignore your body’s instinct to pull away, forcing yourself to breathe through it. As the silence tries to consume you, threatening to derail everything, Bucky’s hand on your hip helps you get the words out, the soft clearing of your throat letting him know a response is forthcoming.

“Yeah,” you finally whisper into the dark, grateful when he doesn’t move, his thighs flush against yours. “I don’t- I’m okay, I don’t wanna stop.” Before he can ask if you’re sure, your hand comes into contact with his arm, your fingers sliding down to gently take hold of his wrist, refusing to second guess yourself as you guide his hand higher up your body, showing him exactly what you want.

The heat of his hand cupping your breast brings you fully back into the present with him, ripping a strangled moan out of you, your back arching to grind harder against him.

“Fuck,” he exhales heavily, Bucky wasting no time in following your lead, your erect nipple pinched between his long fingers, his palm squeezing your tit as he murmurs soft words of praise. His ears are trained on you, listening for every noise he elicits, from the loud moans to the barely audible gasps, ensuring his touch remains welcome.

It’s everything you could possibly want, his leg soon finding its way between yours, Bucky barely getting a chance to ask you if it’s okay before you’re begging him to keep going. Your whine of pleasure drowns out his own noises of appreciation, his thigh pressed to your slick heat, his rock hard cock starting to leak pre-cum.

“You feel so good,” you whisper, one hand gripping the edge of the bed, giving you leverage to grind on his thigh, the fingers of your other hand still gripping his wrist, keeping him pinned to you.

“So do you, baby,” he moans in your ear, nudging his leg higher to find a steady rhythm against your swollen pussy, intent on drawing this out as long as you’ll let him. “Love when you ride my thigh like this, when you let me feel how wet you are.”

Your body takes over, chasing the high, Bucky letting you set the pace, his large hand palming your heavy breasts, the occasional pinch and playful tug of your nipples building you higher. He never lets the silence settle for too long, filling the moments between heavy breaths and barely coherent words with a string of praises, reminding you how much he loves every inch of you.

The darkness seems to amplify your senses, allowing you to get lost in the sensations, your walls pulsing with every delicious grind against your clit. You’re on the verge of begging him to fuck you, the words on the tip of your tongue when a wave of tension takes over, ruining all your plans.

Your hips falter the same time Bucky’s do, his gentle assurance of, “it’s okay,” calming your racing heart before it can beat out of control. Keeping his hand pressed to your stomach, you breathe through the confusion, trying to pinpoint the trigger before deciding to focus on how to move forward instead.

A request for more comes in the form of asking him to turn on a light, the need to see him overpowering everything else, and Bucky’s climbing off the bed, a lingering kiss and touch to keep you company until he returns. You’re kicking the covers off just as he clicks the adjoining bathroom light on, your eyes adjusting quickly to the soft glow now illuminating the room.

The irresistible image of you waiting for him has him returning to the bed within record time, his feet only pausing when his gaze drifts to his prosthetic arm, safe in its resting place in the corner of the room. He doesn’t always wear it to bed, your sex life never suffering without it, but he knows how much you enjoy having both his arms wrapped around you, the slight furrow of his brow telling you exactly what he’s thinking.

You interrupt the unspoken question, your voice pulling Bucky’s attention back to you, your unprompted words taking him by surprise. “I wanna ride you.”

“Oh really?” he asks, the former subject easily forgotten, a grin spreading at the eager nod of your head. He doesn’t need to be told twice, jumping onto the bed with a flourish, landing on his back with a soft thud, a giddy look plastered across his face.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh, getting to your knees beside him, not missing the way his eyes travel along your curves, the peak of his tongue wetting his lips giving you momentary pause, your thighs tensing with need.

Bucky’s obviously thinking the same thing, his laughter sending a thrill down your spine as he asks, “Whatcha thinking about ridin’, doll?”

You enjoy having his head between your thighs just as much as he does, the teasing flick of his tongue along his top teeth having you shaking your head at him. “Your cock, if that’s okay with you,” you tell him, the playful grin on your face masking your concern of being triggered again if you can’t see his eyes.

“Oh, no complaints from me,” he emphatically promises, offering out his hand to help you climb on top, your worry not lost on him. You’ve been through so much together, Bucky having learned to read your body, understanding your emotions even better than you sometimes. As obsessed as he is with you, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting you, he won’t push for it, especially not tonight.

Your bodies fit together perfectly, puzzle pieces interlocking like you were made for each other, his thick cock stretching you slowly with each roll of your hips, taking him inch by glorious inch. His firm grip on your thigh encourages you to keep going, his audible grunts and gasps filling your ears, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

“Jesus,” Bucky pants, his lashes fluttering every time you let him slide in just a bit deeper, his hips tense underneath you, determined to give you complete control. “Feel so good, baby. God, I love you.”

You’re quick to nod your head, your hands finding their way to his chest, allowing you to find an easy rhythm, your eyes nearly rolling back when he bottoms out inside of you. “Oh fuck,” you whine, your hips moving on autopilot, grinding in slow circles, soon finding the perfect pressure against your clit that has you trembling on top of him.

There’s something incredibly intoxicating about being in charge of your own pleasure, especially when Bucky could easily overpower you, the occasional twitch of his hips signaling just how hard he’s working to control himself.

It leaves you breathless, your body finding a quicker pace, the head of cock hitting that spot deep inside of you that has you seeing stars. When his name starts to fall past your lips like a prayer, his thighs tense, shifting underneath you, the new angle forcing out the words burning the back of your throat, “Bucky… baby, please. Please, fuck me.”

“Co’mere,” he growls, pulling you down on top of him, your palms finding purchase against the mattress on either side of his head, his eyes never leaving yours. With his arm wrapped around your waist, hand splayed across your lower back, he starts a slow pace, watching the pleasure play out across your face.

Bucky pulls out until your walls pulse, a prideful grin twitching at the corners of his mouth at how greedily you welcome him back in, his eyes darkening when he bottoms out, your thrusts soon meeting his.

“That’s it,” he pants, nodding his head, his hold on you grower firmer, doing his best to keep the right amount of friction against your clit. “Just like that, take whatever you need baby.” He’s aware your muscles are going to grow tired soon, your knees likely needing a break before long, but he refuses to stop until you tell him to, gritting his teeth with effort to hold his own orgasm back.

You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come close to the edge yourself, only for the feeling to fade, your mind threatening to spiral into unwanted territory. Until this very moment, you’ve done a good job at holding the unwanted feelings at bay, your desire for intimacy and connection driving your actions.

Except, that’s suddenly no longer the case, a particularly sharp burst of pleasure has you closing your eyes and before you realize it, everything’s come to a standstill. The unwarranted apology dies on the tip of your tongue, a heavy sigh of frustration leaving you as you quickly shake your head, sitting up to try to regain some semblance of composure.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs, taking hold of your hand to bring it to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles to soothe your anxiety. “Tell me what you need.”

You breathe heavily, your bodies still connected, Bucky nestled deep inside of you, your walls spasming uncontrollably around him. There’s no reason to push through this, to ignore your body’s obvious discontent, no matter how much you want to pretend you can handle this.

It’d be unfair to subject either of you to that inevitable discomfort. The only thing you can do is face it, admit that you’re not as strong as you’d like to admit, your independent nature wanting to fight you the entire way. A gentle clearing of your throat, followed by a rough swallow and you’re bringing your awareness back to the present, your eyes finally opening to meet his once again.

One look at him and it’s easy to find your voice, his warm smile breaking down your walls like they’re paper-thin. “I need to feel you on top of me.” To feel the comfort of his weight, the safety of his embrace.

Bucky’s more than happy to oblige, trusting that you understand your own needs, knowing you’ll tell him if it becomes too much. Guiding you back down on top of him, his lips find yours, pouring all his love and devotion into the simple act as he secures an arm around you, cradling you against him in order to roll you both over.

It’s not as seamless as either of you anticipate, your tense muscles and abundant wetness causing him to slip out. Neither of you are able to hide your exhales of disappointment, Bucky’s grin meeting your own when he lines himself back up, the head of his cock nudging your entrance, giving you every opportunity to change your mind.

As grateful as you are, it’s not needed, and your hips shift, telling him everything he needs to know, the nod you give him alleviating any lingering doubt. With his weight settling on top of you, his body aligned with yours, he slides his arm underneath your shoulder to cradle the back of your neck in his palm and finally surges forward, sinking back into your tight heat. 

Your unbridled reaction spurs him on, your gasps and cries of exquisite pleasure causing heat to race up his spine, his hips setting a familiar pace. He can’t stop himself from praising you, watching you start to fall apart for him, your walls fluttering around him with every deep stroke, his body grinding hard against your clit.

You cling to him, nails digging into his back, your orgasm just out of reach, sweat covering your body, the desperation written all over your face. You’re so close, Bucky’s loud groans and animalistic grunts usually enough to send you spiraling, his words causing more arousal to coat his cock, but there’s still something holding you back, your body on the verge of tensing again.

“Tell me I’m okay,” you gasp, your eyes locked on his, your hips meeting his thrusts, your body begging for release.

“You’re okay,” he promises, dropping his forehead to yours, his heavy breath fanning your face, using every ounce of energy to not succumb to the pleasure threatening to overwhelm him. “You’re okay, my sweet girl. You’re safe, I’m not going anywhere.”

His steady stream of assurance has you crying out, tears pricking your eyes, the familiar tingle starting to build to unbearable heights, surely about to tease you again. Bucky refuses to give up, fucking you through it, maintaining the perfect, consistent speed, his cock bottoming out each time, the sounds of your bodies meeting in a heated rush adding to the sensations coursing through you.

“There we go,” he groans, his grip on the back of your neck tightening, holding you in place as you start to tighten around him, refusing to let you push him out. “You feel so fucking good, sweetheart, just let go for me. You’re safe, you’re right where you belong.”

That’s all it takes, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your entire body tenses, your limbs wrapped around him, his movements never faltering, letting you ride out the intense waves taking over your senses. You’re not even aware when your voice returns to you, a string of incoherent noises filling the air as you come hard, sobbing from the onslaught of pleasure, Bucky not missing a single second of the glorious vision unfolding underneath him.

He doesn’t allow himself to let go until he’s sure it’s what you want, your gasping pleas triggering his orgasm. With a groan of your name, he pulls you into a fiery kiss, his hips thrusting just a few more times as his pulsing cock fills you with his release.

You've been reduced to heavy pants and trembling limbs, Bucky's body shaking against yours, more sweet utterances of love and devotion being shared as you both return back to reality.

For the first time in too long, you’re able to stay relaxed in his embrace, refusing to let him move for several moments, the weight of him pressing down on you keeping you grounded. It’s not until your lungs start to ache from lack of deep breaths that you relent, letting Bucky roll you both over, your bodies continuing to draw comfort from each other.

There’s no rush to clean up, no dire need to leave the bed, the two of you remaining there for as long as you want, your mind at ease, Bucky’s steady breaths and gentle caress of your back almost lulling you back to sleep. 

This time, there’s no need to fight it. You let yourself drift off, peaceful rest once again overtaking you, Bucky content to hold you for the rest of the night, promising to keep you safe wherever your dreams take you.

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

Comments & reblogs very much appreciated!! 🩶

Main Masterlist

[marvelvillian23]

Does anyone know any Basement Wife fics. Multi chapter preferably but any fic will do.

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

2024 Kinktober Masterlist

I'm so sorry for not posting like at all this year but it's been a very long year. College classes started up again this fall and I'm swamped with work. This is my list for Kinktober this year. I will do my best to keep up but anywho, I hope you enjoy!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Key: Fluff; 🌙 // Angst; 👿 // Smut; 🔥 // Dark; 🕸️

Day 1: Deepthroating/Facesitting (Daryl Dixon (Prison Era) x Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 2: Semi-Public Sex (Ransom Drysdale x Nurse!Fem!Reader)🔥

Day 3: Knotting (Alpha!Jim Hopper x Assistant!Omega!Fem!Reader)🌙🔥

Day 4: Phone Sex (John Winchester x Hunter!Fem!Reader)🌙🔥

Day 5: Squirting (Obsessive!Perv!Billy Hargrove x Bimbo!Fem!Reader) 🔥

Day 6: Cuckolding (Shy!Jake Jensen x FemmeFatal!Fem!Reader x Franklin Clay) 🌙🔥

Day 7: Biting/Marking (Possessive!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 8: Morning Sex (CACW!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 9: Praise Kink (Insecure!Geralt of Rivia x Healer!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 10: Mommy Kink (Needy!Johnny Storm (CE) x Mommy!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥👿

Day 11: Caught (Daryl Dixon (Prison Era) x Fem!Reader) 🔥

Day 12: Sex Toys (Lawyer!Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 13: Virginity Kink (Professor!Logan Howlett x Virgin!Mutant!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 14: Shotgunning (Needy!Ransom Drysdale x Nurse!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 15: Tentacles (Part-Kraken!Steve Rogers x Princess!Fem!Reader) 🕸️🔥

Day 16: Spanking (Johnny Storm (CE) x Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 17: Breeding (Wolf-Hybrid!Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 18: Tittyfucking (Wade Wilson x Plus-Sized!X-Men!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 19: Hate Sex (Erik Lehnsherr x X-Men!Fem!Reader) 👿🌙🔥

Day 20: Edging (Young!Logan Howlett (X-Men1) x Professor!Mutant!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 21: Dub-con/Non-con (Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Innocent!Fem!Reader) 🕸️👿🔥

Day 22: Stripping (CEO!Nick Fowler x Stripper!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 23: Anal Sex (Dark!Steve Kemp x Innocent!Fem!Reader) 🕸️👿🔥

Day 24: Pegging (Brat!Wade Wilson x Mean!Dom!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 25: Lactation (Dad!Steve Rogers x Mom!Pregnant!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 26: Age Difference (Older!Daryl Dixon (Alexandria Era) x 20s!Sunshine!Fem!Reader) 🌙🔥

Day 27: Gagging (Mob!Bucky Barnes x Bimbo!Fem!Reader)

Day 28: DP in One Hole (CEO!Married!Stucky x Assistant!Fem!Reader)

Day 29: Gloryhole (Jim Hopper x Fem!Reader)

Day 30: Panty Raid/Panty Kink (Shy!Perv!Jake Jensen x Slight!Perv!Fem!Reader)

Day 31: Videoing (Camboy!Eddie Munson x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader)

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Just Another Notch

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader

Masterlist Part 3/?? Part 4

Word Count: 1,824

Summary: If Bucky thinks his charms will work on you, then you’re gonna put up one hell of a fight to prove him wrong.

Warnings: Nothing explicit 18+, until later chapters, read at your own discretion. Fat shaming, bully!Steve. Protective!Bruce

Training felt useless. When you made it to the simulation room, you didn’t even power up the hologram tech. You sat in the chair facing the super computer. Seeing your reflection in the monitor screen, cause tears to well in your eyes. You thought you were beautiful, when you looked in the mirror after you got dressed, you felt so confident. The look on Bucky’s face when you emerged from your room boosted that confidence tenfold. You could laugh at yourself now. How quickly things change, it’s the cosmos teasing you. Blowing a long breath out of puckered lips, you drop your forehead, landing it on the cool glass desktop. Maybe you bit off more than you can chew. Maybe you weren’t strong enough to play this kind of game.

You knew you never stepped foot in that gym for a reason. Why did you think today would be different? “You ok?” You raise up, searching the room. “Uh hello?” You say, standing up when you still don’t spot anyone. You see the top of a curly head of hair bent under a desk. Walking up to it, the gym situation leaves your mind instantly. You see Bruce folded up untangling wires underneath a desk. “What a sight.” You laugh. “Yeah, yeah, poke your fun.” He contorts himself free, standing up to press the power button on the monitor screen.

When he’s met with continued darkness, he rolls his eyes and faces you. “Your forehead.” He motions towards his own. You make eye contact with yourself in the mirrored wall behind him. Apparently you’d banged your head harder than you thought. You didn’t feel it but you saw the blood at your hairline. “Oh my.” Your eyes grew to be big like saucers.

You look at the desk to see a large crack down the center of it. “I heard you do it, that’s why I asked if you were okay.” He was looking at you with disbelief that you did that to yourself without noticing. “It didn’t hurt, don’t worry about me.” You brush him off, running to the sink in the corner to wash the blood and sweat from your face.

“I know you have a hard head, my desk though? Priceless and fragile.” He jokes, you can hear the real concern under his voice. “What happened, really?” Bruce steals your rolling chair, sitting below you, looking up intently. His big brown eyes gave you the courage to admit it. “Just the same old, same old.” You kick at one of the wheels to the chair.

“C’mon, you know it’s not good to hold it in. Let the doctor help.” He sounds playful, but you know he’s dead serious. You never considered Bruce one of the main team, so there was no reason to ice him out. He was a scientist more than anything. He spent almost one hundred percent of his time in this simulation room, save for when you both knew you’d rather be training alone. He kept you company, not in the verbal sense.

Most of the time the room was filled with the clicking of keys and hard labored breaths. You both did your own thing, over time you started appreciating each others meekness and opened up. Once you got the man talking, he never stopped. You’re sure his brain is a computer, he soaks up information and spits it back out, corrected. You knew better than to ever lie to him, he was far too smart to fall for whatever you planned to say.

“Tell me.” His smile drops and you feel yourself break a little more. “I embarrassed myself, Bruce.” You look away from his saddening eyes. They were starting to pool with pity, and that’s the last thing you want from him. “Hard to believe, but how?” He says, grabbing your wrist to keep you from running away.

With a deep breath you begin, “I went the the gym with Bucky this morning, mistake one.”. Bruce quickly interjects “Bucky? What are you doing hanging out with him?” He presses his eyebrows together, you can’t discern his expression, was it judgement or something else? “It’s a long story.” You find yourself looking down and away from him again. Like there’s a smudge of guilt and shame creeping in.

“I’ve got time.” He raises his arms in a gesture that conveyed ‘bring it on’. God he wanted the details, why? You glance around the room, finding another chair and rolling it infront of him. “Where should I start?” You giggle, forcing yourself to lighten the mood. “The beginning, please.” He starts to bounce his knee.

“Last night, I was eating my late night cereal in the kitchen, when everyone got home.” Bruce folds his arms and nods. “Bucky joined me in the kitchen and well, he dumped a bowl of milk on me. It was an accident, I think.”

“You think it was an accident? Or you have proof of otherwise?” He says, tilting his head. “Maybe the latter.” You admit. “Okay, so the guy spills milk on you, so you go workout with him?” He was obviously confused. “Not directly after! He apologized and brought me coffee this morning to apologize again, offered to help me out with training.” Bruce rolls his eyes again and you’re sure they’ll fall out the next time.

“Please tell me you didn’t believe he was just innocently apologizing.” He sounds annoyed with you, it kinda stings. You never expected Bruce to get upset with you over it. “What else would he be doing?” You shrug your shoulders at him, genuinely curious if he saw it the same way. “Anyone with eyes here knows, that Casanova, will pull any girl in the building, I’m sure he doesn’t even have a type.”. So Bruce also thinks Bucky was flirting with you.

“I honestly didn’t want to believe it. Why would a guy like him be with me?” You shake your head, trying to throw the thoughts from your mind. “He has been nothing but nice to me, I promise.” You look him in the eyes and you see the tone you’ve been hearing in his voice. Flecks of green shine and then die out instantly, his knee was bouncing faster than before. “If he was so nice then why’d you leave the gym?” His voice wasn’t questioning, it was accusatory.

You choose your next words carefully. “Steve came in, and he said something that wasn’t so nice, so I left. That’s all, Bucky didn’t even do anything, there goes his attempt at sleeping with the whole office.” You try to laugh it off, but Bruce isn’t budging. “What did he say?”

“I was getting a water from the vending machine-“ before you could finish, his knee stopped bouncing, and he unfolded his arms. Now you were worried. “Did he comment on your weight, yes or no?” He stands up, harshly slamming the chair into the desk. You would never lie to Bruce, but the truth might start something you don’t want. “Sorta…” you say, ashamed. He strides past you, and now you’re reaching out for him, “Wait.”.

“No, I’m tired of these pompous assholes doing and saying what they want. I’m not letting it happen, especially to you.”. He looks back before exiting the room, and you feel something in your chest swell. He was so serious right now, you could feel the anger radiating off of him. You didn’t know Bruce felt anything besides casual friendship for you, now you’re starting to think differently.

“I’m coming.” You run to catch up with him, taking long strides behind him as his white lab coat swings behind him, and in front of you. “What makes him think he can even speak on my- on you?” He redirects as he swings the gym door open.

You’re met with Bucky and Steve racing each other in push-ups. “99-100!” “You suck.” “You cheated.” They’re laughing as if you and Bruce didn’t just walk in. “No one cares.” Bruce cuts in. The look of annoyance on his face was enough to confuse the super soldiers. “What are you doing out of the lab?” Steve jokes, but no one laughs. “The next time you even so much as think about Y/N, you’ll be talking to the big guy, not me.”. Steve looks around the gym, wondering who Bruce thinks he is. “Sure, pal.” He grabs a towel and wipes the sweat from his neck. “Tell your girlfriend to lose some weight then.” Before you could even be hurt, all you saw was green.

Hulk was infront of you now, taking heaving breaths. You poke your head out from behind him and see Steve and Bucky holding their hands out as if they were calming a wild boar. “Woah, don’t you think you’re over reacting?” Steve says, stepping back. “Y/N! Call off your dog!.” He says, tripping over his own feet.

Hulk slowly stalks towards both of the men, ready to shred them to pieces. A sinister smile on his face. You feel no pity for Steve, but the thought of Bucky being hurt in the crossfire didn’t sit right with you. Before the jolly green giant could break a bone you pipe up loudly. “Hulk? Hey! Over here!” You wave your hands around in the air.

He can see your tiny form trying to catch his attention, and Hulk has the peace of mind to just ignore you, and do what he knows best, smash. The first fist landed on the gym floor, splinters of wood flew everywhere, a hole to the basement left in its place. “Hulk!” You scream this time and it catches his attention. “Go home!” You demand. You knew better than to have a civilized conversation with him. He knew how to take orders from Fury, so maybe it would work. When he just stands there and looks at you, you double down. With a faux confidence, you looked him in his giant green eyes. “Now, Hulk!” You raise an eyebrow, like a tested mother, as if you were about to count to three.

You don’t know why, the hulk didn’t frighten you one bit, but silly, mean words would make you crumble. He growls one last time at the scared super soldiers before breaking through the door way leading outside. Leaving you alone with the men you almost had killed. Bucky looks in disbelief, like he wasn’t almost used for a human punching bag. “Sorry.” You shy away, stepping on fallen bricks to follow Bruce outside.

“What the actual fuck just happened?” You hear Steve ask, but you’re halfway to the swaying trees before you could hear his response. You don’t really know where Bruce lives, so following him through the woods was your only option. You don’t want him destroying more floor boards on your account. Also, you need to find out why he was so passionate about defending you.

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[thetorturedbuckydepartment]

chapter one: the bolter

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader

summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.

That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?

masterlist

warnings: language, self deprecation, mentions of school bullying(?)

word count: 1.6k

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy! I used to write fan fiction a few years back as a weird, lonely teenager, and this is me making a comeback! I have a few original works I like to write, but that's about it. I know a lot of you guys have been waiting for a while, but I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please feel free to comment any plot theories or thoughts! :)

Pathetic fallacy is a fucking bitch. Steve’s been away for a day or two, off to Wakanda, and everyone’s here, faces sour over grey clouds and heavy downpour, busy making preparations for the big day. He says that his best friend is coming home, finally, where he belongs.

Everyone’s heard of this best friend in question — James Buchanan Barnes. Your friends are a bit skeptical, afraid he’ll come with his eyes painted as dark as the night sky and his hair long in some lab rat’s defiance. You can’t help but fear the same.

When you were hired to work as a nurse in the Tower’s infirmary, you’d kept to yourself. It’s a wonder anyone’s wanting to give you a job after the way you were fired from your last one, let alone Tony fucking Stark, taking pity and picking you off the streets of a foreign country. You’re currently perched on a wobbly stepladder, trying your best to not fall headfirst as you stand vulnerable, trying to push the damn pin into the sign that reads Welcome Home, Bucky! In sloppy, maroon handwriting made entirely by you, ever since you heard it was his favourite colour.

You wonder if it could’ve been a poor choice considering the striking resemblance to blood — the same colour as your shirt, white coat long forgotten over the back of the couch in the main communal living area. 

“Here, let me help you with that,” comes a gruff voice from beside you. 

“Oh no, I’m fine, honestly. Can you go check to see if the quinjet’s landed?” You glance down, and directly into deep blue, entranced by the hypnotic hue. No dark paint, hair cropped messy over the crown of his head. Dressed in a sweater the same colour as yours, and you could’ve sworn it’s like fate. 

“Bucky,” you breathed. Bucky? What is he already doing here? He’s not supposed to be for another hour or two? These are just some of your racing thoughts as you examine his face, looking as bright as fucking sunshine. And then you stumble, the ladder giving out from under you and you yelp, expecting to come plummeting to the cold, hard ground. And instead, warm arms envelop you instead, holding you firm to his chest as you struggle to find the words.

“Sorry! Sorry, I don’t usually fall like this I promise.” He looks directly at you, and you register he hasn’t set you down yet, still holding on tightly. He laughs, the vibrations igniting something inside your chest, the flame spreading itself all over your cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it. What’s your name, beautiful?” He gently helps you place your feet on the floor, and you find yourself desperate to cling to his warmth once again but letting him go, blushing at his compliment. As if it couldn’t get any worse, he’s probably a smooth charmer, fuck. You stumble a little bit over your words as you give him your name and he runs it over his tongue.

Has your name always sounded this pretty? Especially spoken in that gruff, heavenly voice of his?

“I, I thought you weren’t supposed to be here for another hour, we’re still setting—.” You look around, only to find the room completely empty and every decoration in its perfect place, save the ladder now laying on its side in one corner.  When had everyone finished, and why have they all just left?

“They’re all talking to Steve.” He attaches your name at the end of it like a newly discovered drug he’s desperate for another hit of. You tilt your head, a million questions on the tip of your tongue.

“It was really loud in there. Steve takes all the attention anyway, so I used that moment to sneak out.” Your heart breaks for him. This was supposed to be his party, but you offer him some reassurance instead.

“Well, I know we just met but when they all come piling in here to give you a big hug and bring all the noise with them, you can come to me. I know what it’s like, but for now…welcome home!” You awkwardly gesture to the sign behind you, giving him jazz hands. He chuckles and nods his head in thanks, making you smile. 

“Now what’s your favourite baked treat? I heard you like just basic brownies?” His grin only widens. “Yeah, I do love basic brownies.” You gasp in joy, glad to get it right, practically skipping to wrap one and hand it to him. 

He tentatively takes it from your hands, ensuring they brush and one more spark flies into the raw distance between you and him, and you don’t miss the way his beautiful ocean eyes flutter at the contact. You clasp your suddenly sweaty palms around each other, patiently waiting for him to take a bite, and the second his pearly teeth dig into the sweet treat in a way that makes your heart run hot, the noise arrives. 

A cacophony of shouts and cheers make the both of you flinch as Steve walks up to his best friend, attacking him in a hug. “So happy you’re back Bucky!” And takes a bite out of the brownie in his hand as he turns to me, moaning.

“Did you make this? It tastes amazing, dear.” You beam at his praise, nodding along when your eyes fall back on the ladder, long forgotten in the now crowded room. You wouldn’t say you’re lonely, after all, Natasha and Wanda are some of your best friends in your current situation, but they’re almost always off on missions and all the nurses love to talk about is the Star Spangled Man they’d just die to get in their beds. When you first arrived, you were almost always found silently chuckling in the corner, always wanting what you can’t have. Now, your days are always busy, being jetted off on missions once Tony finished the extensive background check on you and letting you figure out who you work the best with. But still, all the days staying silent and to yourself have left you quite…left out. Even as the masses party around you, you feel oddly still. Stagnant, almost.

“Sorry guys, I’ll be right back, I need to go put the ladder away.” You point, and both super soldiers follow your finger, when Bucky interrupts.

“It looks really heavy, let me carry it for you,” he all but begs, a pleading look in his eyes to be taken away from all this din. You glance at Steve who doesn’t argue, letting his gorgeous friend do whatever the fuck he wants. The look on his face is smug and omniscient, as if privy to a secret you’re on the outside of when he glances between you and Bucky. 

You decide to take mercy on his poor soul. “That would be lovely thank you.” You smile politely, moving off in the direction of the bright yellow ladder, trying your best to not stare at Bucky’s bulging muscles rippling beneath his sweater with your mouth so wide open. And to ignore the heat in the pit of your belly at the ease with which he does so, as if the hunk of metal you struggled with for an hour is only a feather to him. 

You lead him to the storage room in silence, thinking it best to not overwhelm him with questions in a saccharine tone. “Thank you, I know it’s really heavy.” You stand in the doorway as he walks up to meet you, and you push yourself as hard as you can against the doorframe so he can pass, but he hovers. Inches away from you. You stare up into his beautiful eyes, taking a quiet moment to admire his pulchritude. Full lips more pink than a spring flower, stubble just enough to catch on your hand if you were to touch him. Cheekbones carved by the careful hands of the Gods themselves, so well-versed in human attraction. How is anyone not to fall in love with him when he can haunt you so stunningly? 

You’re so lost in him you don’t register the lean of his body closer to you, intent on studying your face right back, hellbent on memorising the constellations of your moles and spots. You swallow dryly, unsure of what to do. Is the tension so palpable that he feels it too? Surely not.

Being the way you are, you’re no stranger to rejection. Or to have nobody feel anything for you in the desolate wasteland of your youth, all the nights you’ve screamed at the sky to feel just one genuine connection and all the days you’ve tried to accept it and move on. It’s not the people around you, they are the understanding ones, and apart from one man, someone is yet to treat you like you fear they would.

But someone is yet to truly love you. To truly want you. 

And you highly doubt it’s going to be Bucky Barnes, man whose house can be found in the highest echelons of heaven. Stick to safer things, you try to remind yourself but when your eyes fall back into his, that flies straight out the window. You find yourself not caring, wanting to try anyway. You—

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” The words fly past his lips before he can stop them, and your cheeks turn crimson. Maybe he’s the cruel sort — trying to hook you onto him just so he can laugh when you beg for a fix. At your desperation, at the naive hope you’d hold onto with your dear life that he could feel the same high as you on even the tiniest morsel. 

The taunts of children on playgrounds still echo in your ears, all these eons later. 

So you do the only thing that feels familiar and right.

You run away, and in your haste miss the longing, confused stare he gives the path you take.

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