#just one bucky because the rest of the drawings sucked

[peeppq]

Been getting into Marvel Rivals lately……….

[ninchen1909]

It’s shower time

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Word count: ~1.900

Warnings: Unprotected sex, fingering, fluff, smut

 You stand in the shower, the warm water pattering on your head and running in single drops over your curves down to the floor as you try to wash away all the stress and hectic of the day. Your head rests on the back of your neck while the pleasantly warm water flows over your face, while you keep your eyes closed. A soft groan escapes you as you notice your muscles relax and your thoughts quiet down for the first time that day.

You are so lost in thought that you don't notice the bathroom door open and someone enter the room. Only when the cold air, which has entered your bathroom together with this person, surrounds your body and your nipples stand up because of the cold, you become aware of the other presence in the room. For a brief moment, your body tenses and you have the urge to open your eyes.

However, you soon recognize the familiar heavy footsteps, and a smile creeps onto your lips. Just  A little later, the shower stall is opened and a tall, broad and muscular body surrounds you, its smell penetrating your nose and making your center tremble pleasantly.  You lean your naked body against his broad chest and notice how an arm immediately wraps possessively around your middle, soft, tender kisses are spread on your neck and you sigh softly. He notices that a certain tension lies on your body and he lets his arms wander over your breasts to your shoulders, which he tenderly encloses with his hands and slowly begins to knead.

You let out a pleasurable moan as you drop your head against his shoulders, your eyes meeting his for the first time this evening. Deep blue eyes draw you in, as they have many times before, and as always they help you calm down and fully commit to the moment. You hear his soft, deep voice: "How was your day princess?" his hands are now gently kneading your back while running down your spine, you enjoy this feeling for a short moment before you answer him: " Tiring, but I feel better now that you are here" his eyes are shining lovingly at you while his hands continue to wander over your body, his fingers caressing your skin, running tenderly over your hips. All while his vibranium hand presses you even harder against him.

You can feel his breath on your skin, his feathery touches leave goosebumps on your body. His lips move from your ear down to your collarbone where he sucks in, an excited moan escapes you. Never before have you felt so loved and desired by a man, never before have you felt such emotions for a guy as you do for him. You realize you're getting wet, so you press your hips hard against his, immediately you can hear him inhale sharply. His growing erection is clearly felt against your ass, slowly you begin to rub against his length.

His deep moans fill the room, and you feel yourself getting more and more aroused. His grip around you strengthens and tomorrow you will surely be able to find imprints of it on your skin, like so many times before. This thought excites you even more, you feel how his fingers find your center, and he buries his fingers deep inside you. They run through your slit, spreading your wetness.

When Bucky notices how wet you are, he inserts one finger inside you while drawing tender circles around your clit with another. Your mouth unconsciously opens and a heated moan escapes you. Your hands claw into his thighs and you are sure that there will be clear traces of it in this place later. Gently he starts to work the skin on your neck, branding you. You press your hips determinedly on his finger, and let him enter you even deeper, he understands your intention and inserts another finger into you. You bite your lips to suppress another loud moan, "Let me hear you princess, let everyone hear how good I make you feel. Let it out." you release your teeth from your lip and immediately a loud high pitched moan escapes you. His movements get rougher and rougher, quickly moving his fingers inside you while still playing around your clit with his fingern. You notice how you are heading further and further towards your climax. Your hips move in unison with his fingers. But that's not enough for you, you want more. You need more. With your last bit of self-control, you place your hands flat on his thighs, trying to push him away. He seems to understand you, and immediately stops in his movement, eliciting a dissatisfied sigh from you. "Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?" his startled and surprised voice enters your consciousness, you instantly shake your head, which is still leaning against his shoulder "Do you want me to stop?" he raises an eyebrow and looks at you expectantly, immediately you shake your head jerkily "Just don't stop, James. Never stop" you feel his fingers still deep inside you and squeeze your upper thighs around them "Then what is it princess? Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you" another kiss is breathed on your neck. " I need you. I need your cock deep inside me." he looks at you with dark pupils dilated with lust. And without asking further, he jerks his fingers out of you. A feeling of emptiness and dissatisfaction feels you, but before you can protest, you are jerked against the shower wall. The coolness of the tile, hits your heated cheeks and you try to brace yourself with your hands.

You notice how Bucky places himself behind you, and before you can say anything else, he inserts himself into you from behind with a single firm thrust, a jerk goes through your body, and you groan out. While he gives you time to get used to his size, your fingers search for a place to hold on to. The time in which he does not move is soon unbearable for you, and with a short nod you give him to understand that he can start to move. As soon as you have given him the sign, he starts to move fast and hard inside you. He presses you tightly against the shower wall with his weight while holding your hips with his hands. You are sure that tomorrow there will be clear marks from this night on your body, but you don't care. Everyone should see that you belong to Bucky, everyone should know it. You move your pelvis along with him, your movements matching his fast, hard thrusts. Your loud, excited moans mingle with his dark growls. You feel your muscles tighten around his cock, and the familiar knot of arousal forms in your belly, just waiting to burst in an exctasy and end in a climax.

Bucky's increasingly jerky thrusts, show you that he too is about to come, more and more you push your pelvis towards his movements, the excitement becomes more intense and makes white dots dance in front of your eyes. With a jerk you are suddenly turned around, your naked back now leaning against the cold shower wall, while you look into the dark, excited eyes of your boyfriend. His dick doesn't leave your tight, wet hole for a second. "I want to see you, I want to see you come." he whispers this phrase tightly against your cheek, as if he's about to confide in you a secret that no one else can know. After a short, wild kiss, he grabs your ass with his hands and lifts you up. You wrap your legs tightly around his back, and feel him push even deeper into you through this movement. You are now completely filled. His lips find your spot under your ear and he starts sucking on it, you close your eyes in arousal and let your head sink against the shower wall. Before he starts to move in long, deep thrusts again.

He touches your G-spot and an animalistic growl escapes your throat, your fingernails claw into his back and leave deep scratches on his shoulders. He then presses you even tighter against the wall, his thrusts becoming more uneven and sloppy, as your muscles tighten around him. Another time he hits your G-spot and you feel your orgasm take over, your nails dig into his shoulders and your legs tighten their grip on his hips, your eyes roll back and you notice yourself twitching and moaning as you climax. As Bucky feels the muscles in your pussy tighten even further around him, it's to much for him, and he pours into you with a deep moan. You notice the warmth of his cum feeling your hole, and you sink down exhausted in his tight grip. You're glad James is holding you, as you're pretty sure you couldn't stand on your own.

You don't know how long he'll stand there like that, you just notice how Bucky keeps running his hands through your hair and breathes a loving kiss on your forehead. When he notices that your body has stopped twitching, he carefully places you back on your own legs, and pulls his now flaccid penis out of you. A soft sigh escapes you as you feel the now unfamiliar emptiness inside you. After making sure, that you can stand on your own, he brushes your wet hair out of your face and plants a loving kiss on your lips before grabbing your shampoo and begins rubbing a drop of it between his palms before starting to spread it through your hair shortly after. His fingertips gently massage your scalp, and you let your forehead fall against his chest. You can still feel the aftershocks of your orgasm in your knees and are glad to lean against Bucky, who has made it his business to clean your body.

He carefully rinses the shampoo out of your hair before he starts lathering you up with your shower gel. Your familiar scent surrounds you, and Bucky takes his time slowly applying the gel to each part of your body. In between he breathes feather-light kisses on your heated skin. When he has also rid you of your shower gel, he turns off the water before stepping out of the shower. He quickly wraps a towel around his hips, only to wrap you in a warm, cozy towel just seconds later.

He notices that you are having a hard time staying on your feet, so he carefully lifts you up, only to carry you into the bedroom and set you down on the bed. Carefully, he helps you put on your pajamas before flipping the covers off to allow you to snuggle under them. He puts on only a pair of boxer shorts himself before joining you under the covers, only to pull you to him a little later and press a kiss on the top of your head. With a satisfied and happy smile on your lips, and the love of your life right by your side, you fall asleep just seconds after, while cuddled up close to your Bucky.

[feyd-meowtha]

A wee snippet from the upcoming MOTA 90s House AU...

“So you’ll try to talk your way into a nightclub underage but you draw the line at drinking? Weirdest jailbait I ever met.” Bucky said, shaking his head in a way that was equally condescending and unbearably attractive.

Cool, experienced, old enough to be here - Bucky was everything that Gale was not and it made him so mad that he wanted to kiss him and never stop. He appreciated that this was not the normal reaction to someone pissing you off but he also understood that this was anything but a normal day and allowed the thought to stand.

“Stop calling me that,” Gale huffed, deciding that bratty was the way to go with this guy. That worked for him. The whole coquettish looking up through your lashes always sounded like bullshit anyway.

“I told you I'm eighteen and you can’t even be that much older. You’re what, like, 25 tops?”

Bucky just laughed and tapped his nose, which could have one of two meanings but Gale was pretty sure which one it was this time.

“A lady never tells,” said Bucky before turning his attention to the shot of tequila sitting untouched on the counter, a slice of lime balanced across the top and a packet of salt sticking to the bar mat next to it.

“Hand.” Bucky said. It wasn’t an instruction and it also wasn’t quite a request but Gale did as he was told, dropping his hand into Bucky’s broad palm. What happened next was something that Gale would be replaying in his head for the rest of his life.

Quick as a flash, Bucky’s tongue darted out of his mouth and he licked a long stripe along the back of Gale’s hand. Gale watched bug-eyed as he ripped the salt open with his teeth, pouring it onto Gale’s wet skin before chasing it with another lap of his tongue. After that he downed the shot and presumably sucked on the slice of lime. Gale honestly couldn’t be sure because his brain had left his head and was currently oozing out of his ears onto the sticky linoleum floor.

“Fuck, I love tequila,” Bucky said, shaking his head as he savoured the burn and relinquished control of Gale’s still wet and now salty hand. Gale resisted the urge to lick the remains of the salt off himself, taste the saliva that shone purple and blue under the disco lights. He fought the temptation, allowing his hand to fall onto the bar where it tingled hot and cold.

There was a loud snort from the other side of the bar as the blonde bartender ducked down behind the glass wash in an attempt to hide his giggles. Bucky spun to face him, looking pissed as Gale’s faculties finally returned to him.

“It ain’t the first time you’ve done that is it?” Gale said, eliciting another snort from the bartender.

“Fuck’s sake, Hambone,” Bucky said, gesturing with his hands, “just because you got no game don’t mean you gotta go and ruin it for the rest of us.”

Then he turned back to Gale.

“Would you believe me if I said it was?”

“No.” Gale said flatly, mind still on the drying spit on the back of his hand. He sipped at his coke. It was fizzy and sweet and it gave him something do do with his hands and his mouth, other than all the things that his overstimulated brain was suggesting.

“You caught me, nothin’ gets past you does it?” Bucky said with a grin, “None of em were as pretty as you though.”

______________________________________________

Coming soon to feyd_meowtha on ao3!

[philcoulsonismyhero]

Okay, so I need to expand my convention stall print selection as a matter of vague urgency because my current stuff is reaching the end of its useful lifespan (the joys of a small con scene and a lot of familiar faces in the customers who've already bought all they're going to buy), so

The current mile long to-draw list for the sake of creating some accountability (bolded are the most immediate priority):

Kirk, Spock, probably also McCoy

The rest of the Trek captains from the shows I've watched (Picard, Sisko, Janeway, Archer, Pike, Burnham?? I haven't gotten far enough in Discovery for her to be captain yet but I'm assuming she is eventually)

Assorted other popular Trek characters, eventually (if you've got suggestions, Please let me know, there's 500 of these people and narrowing it down is hard)

Luke, Leia, Han

I Really can't be bothered but I know Maul, Dooku, Sidious and Vader would be popular so eventually I'm just going to have to suck it up and draw some characters I hate

Something clone troopers (I have it on good authority that there's basically no merch for clone fans)

Torchwood team (portraits, like the Doctors print I've already got)

14th and 15th Doctor (or whatever they're called) to update Doctors print

NuWho companions? At least Rose, Martha, Donna, Amy, Clara, Bill

9th Doctor, Rose and Jack group shot

Something Hot Fuzz

Something Kingsman (Eggsy and Galahad, probably)

Something Pacific Rim (currently thinking maybe three somethings? Newt & Hermann, Mako & Raleigh, Pentecost and the cancelling the apocalypse line)

Judge Dredd and Anderson from Dredd

All nine of the Fellowship of the Ring, brown paper, which is going to take forever but should be worth it because they're all popular and also I love them all, probably eventually also Eowyn and Faramir and Bilbo

The daft local in-joke Nazghul thing (there's this mounted statue of Wellington in Glasgow that always has a traffic cone on its head so I'm redrawing it as a Nazghul because I think that's funny)

Something Firefly

Roy Kent, because I've got a Ted Lasso and he's the main character people are always asking after

Something DnD movie?

And probably a dozen other things but that's enough for now

I'm trying to mainly stick to old, established fandoms and movies/series that I genuinely like that are cult-classic-y enough that they're consistently popular, because I'm fed up of how quickly The Current Popular Thing fades these days. I've done well out of drawing stuff that'll appeal to the Queer Cartoon-Watching Teens, but they're a fickle audience and getting less reliable so time to target the staple fandoms instead.

And then there's also the other list which is stuff that's mostly for my own entertainment but will probably do decently well, just not enough to be a priority right now:

A few more RWBY characters on coloured paper to expand that set (at least Penny, Nora, Ren, Jaune, Oscar)

A DCTV Flash and Reverse Flash pair of prints on red and yellow paper respectively

Something Rivers of London

An updated set of brown paper FMA art

Arcane stuff (will be higher priority when the next season is closer, but for now no one is paying it any attention)

The trio from The Marvels

Eda, Luz, King and Hooty group shot (this one should probably be on the other list, but it's down here for now because I've already got Owl House prints and right now I need to go for breadth of fandoms rather than expanding within what I've already got)

That Captain America set of four with limit colours idea that I've had for ages (Steve, Bucky, Sam, Peggy)

More brown paper Jedi (current top of the list are Aayla Secura, Shaak Ti)

A print of the main duo from The Untamed (got badges already)

Etc etc

Can you see why I never get anything done, too-many-choices choice paralysis is A Nightmare

The current plan is to start with the Star Trek stuff, because that's going to be portraits and I can do those in my sleep. If I can get Kirk and Spock done, that's a solid start. The Torchwood team print is also small portraits, so that's potentially doable as well, and a good shout for my next event since it's an 18+ evening con so the audience will be a bit different to usual. (I'm intrigued about this con, I don't know how it's going to go, but the idea of an adults-only event where artists can sell All their stuff rather than sticking to kid-friendly is a good one even if that's not going to affect my own stock at all. Shame it's the same weekend and in the same city as a big established con that I got wait-listed for which I'm still mad about because I Kinda Need The Money, but what can you do.)

I've got that con the weekend after next which means I've got until Monday night at the latest to get things finished if I want them with the print shop by Tuesday morning. Then I can work on the two extra Doctors and maybe some companions, because those will be badges and I make those myself. And that's as far in the future as it's worth thinking right now, let's just take this a couple of weeks at a time and maybe my brain will stop stalling over having too much to do and no way to narrow it down

[first-edition]

Memorize You.

Bucky x black!reader

From the moment he saw you he fell in love memorizing your features. From the days you spent with him he memorized your sent and that one special night you came to visit him after the blip and he made sure to memorize your body.

CW-smut, pinv, sexual content, angst, confession, oral fem! Receiving.

Angst,fluff,smut

BOLD WORDING IS TALKING IN WAKANDAN

He opened his door seeing you your long braided hair and golden eyes.

“Y/n.” He freezes

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drop in unannounced I just…oh fuck-“ you trail off feeling tears well up in your eyes.

“S-shuri showed me where you are b-becuase she put a tracker in your arm but that’s not the point and you came back and durning the blip I couldn’t not think of you and I was scared I wouldn’t see you again because I read your letter but I-“

“You read the letter?…” he says

“Y-yes I’m so stupid for not telling you earlier but I thought we’d have more time and I don’t wanna go another second without telling y-“ he cuts you off pulling you in his lips biting yours. You melt into him.

He pulls you inside shouting the door behind him.

Pulling his lips away for a second.

“I love you too” you reply.

“I love you” his lips press back against yours and he pulls you up as your legs wrap around his waist taking you to the barley used bedroom. Kicking off your shoes before Laying you back on the plush mattress and comforter. His hands run under your shirt pulling it off and over your head only to be dumbfounded by the trickery of your bra. You giggle pushing him off as you move on too easily reaching behind your body ticking off the bra discarding it.

You kiss down his body as hes not wearing a shirt. Kissing his scars and abs as you move up kissing the large scar connecting his skin to his metal arm. His hands dip between your bodies and unbuttons your jeans. You move your hand down palming his erect dick through his sweatpants. He breaths in sharply, hot and hard in your grasp and you smile when Bucky's head drops to your shoulder as he groans at your touch.

He removes your hand before pushing you over and ripping your jeans off your legs taking your panties with them. He grabs your thighs pulling them to him pushing his hair back as he dips his head down licking slowly between your folds. You suck in a breath at the feeling of his tongue against you. Bucky lets out a groan at your taste before burying his face fully between your legs. writhing against him, making him wrap his arms around your thighs to keep you still enough for him. Bucky pulls an orgasm from you embarrassingly fast, that tightly wound ball of pleasure in your gut snapping so soon it even shocks you. You draw a shaky breath that turns into a shakier moan when your body registers Bucky's mouth still on you, even stronger now than before.

"B-Bucky wait." You stutter out. He groans into as your thighs squish against his head only pushing his tounge in further into you as his flesh hand grips your thigh. You moan out a whimper as he pulls back looking up into your eyes his bright blue eyes darkened filled with lust. His hands feel you body gripping your breast as if memorizing your your touch. Your ebony skin under his shiny metal hand. The cold vibrnium fingers making thier way back down to where his mouth just was.

“B-bucky..” you look up into him your golden eyes now glowing, literally. He halts his actions as you bring him down to you lightly pulling on his dog tags, he moves to you as your arms rest around his neck. A moment of peace before he shuffles pulling off his pants and pulling away for just a moment to angle and enter you sensually.

Your mouth opening agape. Your legs wrap around his waist pulling him closer to you his big dick stretching you. He rests his forehead against yours shutting his eyes feeling every part of you never wanting it to end fearing that when this is over you’ll get up and leave, a one night stand.

“i-i love you.” He says

“Again…” you reply moaning out.

“I love you.”

“More.”

“I love you, I love you.” He says confidently, the last i love you in wakandan as he rests his hand on your cheek. Your nails run down his back and shoulders and he rams deeply into you. Feeling buckys muscles flex and relax, feeling his scars, his breath on your neck, listening to his moans and groans this man love you more than anything and he wants you know know that. Hes so quiet and so loud. The way he fucks you now the feelign of the man you love inside you. Not a one night stand, not a fling, its james. Its bucky.

All the days you’ve wanted to tell him but were too scared of rejection. But when the blip hit everything changed you knew you couldn’t live with out him, knew you needed him, not just as a friend or somone you can call. Seeing him vulnerable in wakanda making a new life for himself here…and when Sheri told you he was looking for you, everything changed.

You feel your second climax hitting you as you clench around him his lips attaching to yours sharing a breath as you both cum. “D-dont leave me. Dont leave again.” You say feeling a sob burst out of your throat as tears run down your cheeks. Bucky feels his heart break as much as you both know it wasn’t his fault he didn’t mean to leave you, didn’t mean to be gone for so long. He shakes his head placing kisses all over you.

“Im not going to leave you. Im not leaving you ever again.” He says kissing your forehead. Wiping off your cheeks. “Im not going anywhere.”

[jobean12-blog]

I was asked out by someone I've known for 3+ years but it never came to fruition because the past few weeks he's been ghosting me. Today he posted something about his new girlfriend and it really broke my heart and left me feeling inadequate, because I always just seem to be an option to people. Could you please write something about Bucky comforting the reader over a situation like this? It's totally cool if not❤

You're the One

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 826

Summary: You're having a rough night, guys suck...except for one.

Author's Note: Hi my sweet Sheila! I'm so so very sorry this happened love. I do hope this little story helps and brings you a smile. You deserve all the love and smiles forever. This guys is...as Bucky would say, "an asshole!" He's not good enough for you! Sending love and hugs! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my love @firefly-graphics

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff, light angst, happy ending :)

Bucky walks into the common room and his eyes immediately scan the area for you. When he can’t find you, his shoulders slump and he heaves out a sigh.

“She said she wasn’t comin’ Buck,” Steve says as he slaps Bucky on the back.

“What? Who?” Bucky says, acting confused.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up and he pins Bucky with a knowing look.

“Come on pal, I know you were looking for her,” Steve says.

“I wasn’t looking for anyone. Just the pizza. No one got food. I’m starving!” Bucky huffs.

“The pizza is on its way,” Sam says when he slides up next to Bucky and Steve. “He’s pretending he’s mad about the pizza?”

Steve nods in answer to Sam’s question and Bucky swings his head around.

“What the hell!? I am mad about the pizza,” Bucky shouts.

“I stopped by her room before and she said she wasn’t feeling like hanging out,” Steve starts. “She didn’t tell me why.”

Bucky crosses his arms over his chest and drops his head.

“I’ll be right back,” he mutters before stomping off.

“Think they’ll ever get out of their own way and make it happen?” Sam asks Steve as they watch Bucky walk away.

“I sure hope so,” Steve says. “He’s a punk.”

Bucky knocks lightly on your door and waits, his foot quietly tapping against the floor.

“Who is it?” you call out.

“It’s me doll. Just came to check on you,” Bucky answers.

You open the door and motion for him to come in.

“Hey Buck. Sorry I’m not feeling up to game night.”

“It’s ok doll face. Are you alright?”

With a plop you sit down on the couch and grab a pillow, burying your face in it before talking.

“I hate boys,” you mumble.

Bucky sits next to you and carefully pulls the pillow from your hands.

“You hate boys?” he asks for clarification.

“Yep,” you reply, making a disgruntled face.

“All boys?” he asks with a smirk.

“Well, not all of them…,” you wink.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks as he sits back and gets comfortable.

You stretch your feet out and lay them over his lap. He rests his hands on your legs and draws light circles over your thighs.

“It’s just…why are guys so, so…AWFUL!” you sigh.

Bucky slides his hand up your leg and closes his fingers around yours.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “Want me to beat him up?”

That makes you giggle and he instantly smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I just might,” you tell him, still smiling. But then the smile fades and you drop your eyes.

“He asked me out. I thought he liked me and then nothing for weeks. I reached out a couple of times but he basically ghosted me. Then this morning I’m on my Instagram and I see him post a picture with his NEW GIRLFRIEND!!!”

You sit up and shout the last part then collapse back into the couch cushions.

“I don’t understand what happened,” you whisper, your bottom lip trembling. “What did I do?”

“You?” Bucky blurts out. “Nothing. Nothing at all. You’re perfect. Clearly, this guy is a total asshole. What guy has a chance with a gal like you and then throws it away? I mean he’s definitely an asshole.”

You watch Bucky as he gets more and more animated and agitated, his face turning red with his growing irritation. You can’t stop your mouth from spreading into a small smile and when he brings his gaze back to you he chuckles.

“What? I speak the truth!” he states.

“Thank you Buck,” you whisper and lean over to hug him.

He takes you in his arms and squeezes you to his chest.

“I mean it though. He really must be a d bag if he gave you up,” he whispers into your hair.

“Yea well, I guess someone better came along and he jumped right on it,” you scoff.

“There is no one better,” Bucky murmurs and slides his metal fingers under your chin.

He lifts your eyes to his before they drop to your lips.

“You’re the best Buck, thank you. I wish all guys were like you…honestly even just one that I could find and then I don’t have to go through this anymore.”

“Why not me?”

Your eyes widen at his words and you audibly swallow.

“What do you mean?” you ask softly, licking your lips as he leans in closer.

“Why can’t I be the one?” he asks before brushing his thumb across your cheek.

You nod, unable to speak when his nose lightly bumps yours and his warm lips press to the corner of your mouth.

“Is that a yes?” he murmurs, kissing the other side of your mouth.

“Yes,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. “Just kiss me already.”

You can feel his smile before the soft press of his lips, the kiss stealing the air from your lungs.

[samsexualdeancurious]

Baby, Let's Ride (NSFW)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1,042

Summary: Y/N is in the driver's seat for this road trip but she's bored.

Warnings: public car sex, unprotected sex, we're going to pretend absolutely no cars are gonna drive down this road for the next thirty-ish minutes lmao

Written for an Angel request

---

You enjoy driving, you really do, but certain parts of the US are definitely less exciting than others and this is one of them. The landscape around you is flat grasslands as far as the eye can see and you’re not going to lie, it’s a bit mind-numbing. Certainly doesn’t help that Bucky Barnes is lounging in your passenger seat with his nose buried in a book Steve loaned him for the trip, one elbow resting on the back of the bench seat with his hand in his hair. The sight is extremely distracting.

Though, to be honest, that might also be because your bored brain has decided now is a perfect time to be more than a little horny.

Bucky is a perfect gentleman, of course, and has kept his hands to himself besides some hand-holding. “Eyes on the road,” he keeps saying and you roll your eyes but obey. The highway is empty now, though, a long stretch of blacktop disappearing into the horizon, and you’re in a mood.

Your top is a comfy button-up, soft wicked fabric that’s perfect for a long day on the road. You shoot a look over at Bucky - his eyes are locked on his book still - and bring your hand up to the top button. You try to be casual about it, scratching at your collarbone before slowly undoing the top button. It’s not until you reach the bottom button and pull your shirt open beneath your seatbelt that Bucky notices, glancing over at you from the top of his book. His eyes go wide.

“What are you doing?”

Your lips curl in a mischievous smirk. “What?”

Bucky opens his mouth to respond but when you unzip the front of your sports bra, all he can do is sputter.

You hum thoughtfully and make sure your seatbelt still sits properly across your chest and shoulder. Your eyes flick from the road to Bucky and back again, and you can’t help a small laugh at his expression. “See something you like?”

The words are punctuated by the glide of your right hand over your breasts, pausing to tweak both nipples, and you can practically hear Bucky’s brain shutting down in response.

Men.

“You’re a tease,” he finally grumbles, hands clutched tight around his book.

You just laugh again and let your hand drift down your belly, your pelvis, to trace one fingertip along the seam of your leggings. Your clit throbs in response. “What’re you going to do about it?”

He makes a low sound, something between a growl and a moan. It sends a shiver of arousal down your spine. “Pull over.”

You lift a playful brow in his direction. “Sergeant Barnes, are you implying that we should have sex on the side of the highway?”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying.”

Your purse your lips, considering this for a moment. A quick glance in your mirrors confirms that there’s no one in sight, so you turn your blinker on.

The shoulder is rough under your tires. As soon as the car is in park, Bucky’s fingers are on your seatbelt buckle and he’s pulling you across the seat for a kiss. His hands skate up your sides beneath your open shirt and find their places on either side of your breasts. His metal hand is cool from the air conditioner and the rub of his thumb over your nipple makes you shiver.

“Such a fucking tease,” he growls as he kisses along the line of your jaw.

“Is it teasing if I plan to follow through?”

Bucky doesn’t respond, digging his teeth into the side of your neck instead. You gasp, head tipped back to give him better access, and one hand flies up to grip lightly at his hair. Not pulling, just holding on. Bucky sucks on the mark he’s made, drawing more blood to the surface. He’s got a nice, dark mark in mind and you know people are going to notice it. The thought stokes the heat in your core.

Once he’s satisfied with the mark he’s left, Bucky continues his path downward. He nibbles at your collarbone, bites lightly along the curve of your left breast, and then skips right over your nipple like a fucking dick. When you voice this complaint, he just laughs and replies with “Is it teasing if I plan to follow through?”

You reward him for that with a shove at his shoulder, prompting a low laugh into the valley between your breasts.

“Lay back, doll,” he purrs, giving you a gentle push to guide you down. “There you go. Gotta be quick. We don’t want someone to come along and interrupt us.”

“Please don’t get us arrested for public indecency,” you laugh.

Bucky’s only response to that is a wink as his fingers creep under the waistband of your leggings.

Your shoes, leggings, and underwear end up somewhere in the passenger-side footwell. Bucky’s lips are soft against your breasts but his stubble is rough. His jeans are the same, rubbing against sensitive skin in multiple places as he settles between your thighs. His metal arm holds him up, elbow braced against the seat above your head, and his flesh hand creeps down over the curve of your pelvis.

“So wet,” he purrs, middle finger bumping over your clit and tracing the edges of your folds. “Do you like showing off in the car? Knowing someone could drive by and see you with your tits out?”

You open your mouth to reply but all that comes out is a moan, a little broken and whiney. Bucky laughs, low and dangerous against your collarbone.

“Gonna fuck you.” His finger dips between your folds, pressing against your entrance but not inside yet. “Leave you dripping my cum all over your panties for the rest of the drive.”

Your pussy clenches in response to those words, something he definitely notices based on his smirk.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

This isn’t what you’d expected when you decide to tease Bucky - and you definitely didn’t expect it to happen on the side of the road - but all you can do as he presses two fingers into your dripping core is spread your legs and hold on for the ride.

—

Like this fic? Support me longterm on Patreon HERE or make a one-time donation on Ko-Fi HERE.

—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @emoryhemsworth @imsuperawkward @onethirstyunicorn

[ohbuckie]

FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT

college!bucky x reader

summary: bucky fucks you on his bedroom floor.

warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected sex

word count: 2.3k

masterlist

Bucky’s room is at the end of the hall. It’s decorated simply—white rug in the center of the floor, a desk sharing a wall with the door, a few posters littering the walls, a dresser across from the bed in the corner of the room. His bed frame is metal and cheap; flimsy, to say the least. He holds onto it while he fucks you—arm outstretched above your head, trying desperately to keep it from slamming against the wall and using the leverage it gives him to pound into you harder.

His friends’ rooms are both attached to his, with their common wall being the front one that the door is on. Sam and Steve have gotten used to banging on the walls of their bedroom in protest of the loud sex happening on the other side, or even sitting in the hallway and knocking on the door. Of course, this means nothing to Bucky, who could probably ignore a category seven earthquake in order to finish. He’s nothing if not thorough.

He tries to be considerate. He plays music loudly—something with lots of bass, to drown out at least a little bit of the sound—but it renders itself useless in between every song, when both of the guys can hear every sound the two of you make. Good sleep is a lost cause in apartment 4B.

Arriving home from a double date with your roommate, you let your jacket—Bucky’s, actually—fall from your shoulders, and you catch it in your hands to hang it up by the door. You kick off your shoes, run your fingers through your hair, find your boyfriend who scurried away to the kitchen, plant a kiss on his lips.

“That was fun.” You say, running your hands up his chest, remembering how he kissed you in the cab on the way here. He smiles and leans on the counter with the heels of his palms, with you in between his arms, in front of his chest.

His lips find yours, and you cup his cheeks in your hands, accepting the tongue that he runs along your lower lip. He tastes like the red wine that he had with his dinner and smells like the expensive cologne that you gifted him last Christmas.

“I don’t think the guys are home.” He says against your mouth, and you smile, breaking the kiss and practically running down the hallway.

He follows you to his bedroom, his hand making contact with your ass, leaving it stinging while you twist the knob and push the door open. He beats you to the bed, sitting on the edge with his legs open, waiting for you to climb onto his lap. You straddle him, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and his lips attach to your neck, delivering wet, hot kisses to your throat and collarbones. He runs his hands over your body—along your shoulder blades, down your spine, across your lower back—appreciating the figure-hugging black minidress that you’re wearing.

You lean forward to push him onto his back, catching yourself on your hands, which are positioned on either side of his head. You grind against his lap and he flips you onto your back in response, rolling his hips into yours.

You kiss like pornstars, swapping saliva between your mouths through tongues and clashing teeth, sucking and biting at plush lips. With his hips between your thighs, your dress inches further up your legs, making your red thong visible.

Your hands are free, and you use this opportunity to pull his shirt out of his pants and unbutton it until it’s open. The two sides hang down, exposing the top of his prosthetic arm and the outrageously defined muscles of his torso.

“Bucky.” You breathe, lips wetly separating from his.

“You okay?”

You nod. “Just want you.”

He chuckles teasingly, nudging your chin upwards with his nose and kissing down to your chest. You arch your back into him, pushing your fingers into the hair at the base of his head.

The room is dark, except for the animated screensaver of the open laptop of his desk and the moonlight that pours through the blinds perfectly, casting rigid bars of light across the wall opposite the bed. You reach to the nightstand beside you, pulling the cord on the lamp and wincing when it turns on as you’re staring at the bulb.

He pulls away and gathers himself, licking his lips and pushing hair from his forehead while he catches his breath. He looks up at you and smiles sweetly, kissing your cheek before standing from the bed and unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his slacks, pulling the zipper down, shoving them past his thighs. His belt hits the floor with a jingle and he steps out of the pants that are now pooled around his ankles. Dark gray briefs are revealed, and you appreciate how nicely they cling to his legs and ass. You remember an earlier comment from him about “fancy underwear,” and you giggle to yourself when you realize that this is what he was talking about.

“What’s funny?”

“‘Fancy underwear.’” You repeat to him, and he cracks a smile before he steps over to you to get back to business.

Instead of removing your dress, he pushes it up past your hips, harshly pulling your panties down and out of his way. He kneels in front of you and kisses your inner thighs, moving up to your pussy, ghosting over it with his lips for a moment before pressing a delicate kiss to your clit, his eyes trained on yours. His gaze remains unwavering when he licks a stripe up your entire pussy. His tongue pushes between your folds and applies pressure to your sensitive bud, and you both moan—you at the sensation and him at the taste.

“Buck.” You whine. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please fuck me.”

He sighs, disappointed that he can’t eat you out. Not that he isn’t excited to fuck you.

He stands and steps out of his underwear, tossing them behind his right shoulder. His cock stands against his stomach, seemingly thrilled to be freed from its fabric prison. You can’t take your eyes off of it—pretty and pink, fairly long and definitely thick enough.

He spreads his large hand over your lower stomach and lets his thumb hover over your bundle of nerves, keeping it still, for now. He gives his cock a few pumps, holding it just below the head to line it up with your entrance. He looks at you while he pushes in, because he loves the way that your eyes squeeze shut and your hips wiggle to get more comfortable with his intrusion.

He chews on his bottom lip, waiting until you stop clenching and fluttering around him before he moves. When he does, you reach to the hand on your stomach and hold his wrist tightly. He uses his other hand to put your right leg over his left shoulder, the cold metal of his mechanical hand at variance with your hot skin. You take the initiative to put your other leg up on your own.

His movements are less of a rhythmic roll and more of a pistoning in and out of you, giving you what you begged him for only a moment ago. At first, the thrusts are shallow, but after about a minute he can’t help himself anymore. With every jerk of his hips, his cock slams against a spot inside of you that only he has ever reached—although you’d never tell him that, because you’re too proud to admit that he can make you feel better than you ever could yourself.

When you let go of his wrist, he withdraws his hand, licking his thumb before putting it back where it was and putting it to use. He draws small circles into your clit, just like you taught him to do when you first started dating. You buck your hips up and it makes him smile, and you want to smack that look off of his face. You hate that he knows exactly how good he makes you feel.

You tighten around him when you study his concentrated face—how his brows furrow and he licks his lips.

“Feel good?”

“Yes.” Your voice is strained by desire.

“Good.” He mumbles, and starts to put a little more behind every thrust. He pulls almost all the way out before pushing back in, and the slapping noises that your skin makes upon contact with him is obscene. The bed frame squeaks as it rocks, and it hits the wall over and over again, at a moderate-but-still-annoying volume.

Loud knocking on the closed door startles you, but doesn’t phase Bucky.

“What?” He asks, not stopping, or even so much as looking in the direction of the interruption at the door.

Sam’s raised voice is on the other side. “At least put on the music, man. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, okay, fine. Go away.” Bucky replies. Footsteps descend and a door closes. Bucky pauses his movements, clearly annoyed, to lean over and fish his phone out of the pocket of the pants that he let fall to the floor earlier. He thanks God for Bluetooth when it automatically connects to the speaker that lives on his desk, and all he has to do is press play. He tosses the phone onto the mattress, lets it bounce behind your head, and picks up where he left off.

The music is loud enough to drown out the squeaking and the slapping, but definitely not the bed hitting the wall. You can’t bring yourself to care, because the circles against your clit are growing bigger and faster, and your eyes are rolling back into your head.

“Fu-u-uck.” You moan, syllables choppy from the way that you’re being fucked.

“You’re so hot.” He mutters, letting a breathy moan slip out after his words.

Something hits the part of the wall that Steve’s room is behind, and you both can hear shouting. “Shut up!”

Neither of you respond.

A familiar feeling pools in your lower stomach, tightening and threatening to spill. “I’m so close, Buck.”

You tense around him, squeezing his cock and surely bringing him close, too. He pulls out suddenly, but quickly replaces his dick with two of his fingers, curling them against the upper wall of the inside of your pussy. It shoves you violently over the edge, and you cum with a moan that rips through your chest and leaves your throat burning. His fingers continue to move through your orgasm and he watches your legs tremble, kissing your calves that are still rested beside his head.

“You good?”

You only nod.

“We’re being too loud on the bed. Get on the floor.” He orders, and you breathe through your nose, exhaling through your mouth before you stand on wobbly legs. Before you lower yourself to the floor, covered by his pristinely clean, white rug, he clarifies, “Hands and knees.”

The bass of the music booms through your chest, reverberates through your bones, echoes through your head. You feel him kneel behind you, putting one foot onto the floor for balance. You wish you could see him right now—shirt open, sweaty chest heaving, cock standing at attention, ready to fuck you to completion for the second time. He tilts his head down and you can hear him spit onto his dick before shoving it back into you, exercising no restraint.

Your head bows between your shoulders, and you try not to be too loud, because Sam and Steve hardly ever let you hear the end of it when you do, but Bucky’s making it extremely difficult. He’s taking what he wants now, since he’s already made you cum.

His hands hold your hips like they’re handles, yanking your body backwards onto his cock at the same time that he’s ramming into you. His breathing is heavy, and you close your eyes to picture his face right now. A piece of hair over his forehead, fallen from the gelled mass atop his head, jaw tight, abs tensing. That’s what he usually looks like, anyway, when he’s fucking you into oblivion. It’s an image that’s forever burned behind your eyelids.

His hips are moving bruisingly fast, bringing you closer to another orgasm. It’s actually more like you’re being dragged behind a pick-up truck that’s approaching a cliff and is showing no signs of stopping.

It takes only a hard clench to throw off his rhythm and have him cumming inside of you, scrambling to blindly locate your clit with only his fingertips so that you can finish together. He rolls it between his fingers, rubs haphazardly, and gets lucky when you cry out that you’re there again.

“Bucky! Oh, fuck!” Your knees sting from the rug beneath them, and your hands make a fist around the strings between your fingers. “Oh my God.”

He pulls out slowly, kissing down your spine while his warm seed spills out of you, trickling down your leg.

You lay on your back on the floor, much too tired to stand, and watch him pull his briefs back up, on a mission to dampen a face cloth to wipe you down with. He comes back with one, and wipes the cum from your legs and pussy, leaving small kisses in the wake of the warm water that refreshes you.

He gives a final kiss to your lower stomach before he tosses the cloth in the direction of his hamper. He lays beside you on the floor, taking your face in his metal hand and pressing sweet kisses to your cheeks and forehead and chin.

It's silent for a moment, before he decides, "I need to invest in a sturdier bed."

[azaleavi]

Injury

Requested by anon: Is it okay if I request a smut with Bucky being injured from a mission and reader doesn't wanna have sex with him because she's afraid to hurt him but he convinces her he's okay?

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: smut 18+, talk about stabbing, language, dirty talk, kissing, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms

Author’s note: Thank you for requesting dear nonnie! I hope you like it! I got a little carried away so I hope you don’t mind.

Feedback is always appreciated and don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

18+ MINORS DNI

The jet landing on the roof alerted you on you place on your couch. Switching between channels you waited for the team to walk out of the elevator. What you didn't expect was Friday's voice telling you that Bucky got injured and they were taking him to the med bay. Shooting up from your seat you ran to the elevator frantically pressing the buttons as if it could make it come faster. When the door finally opened you stepped inside, pushing the button to the floor where the man you loved was, injured. You didn't know how bad it was, not waiting for Friday to explain.

The doors opened again and you started running. Following the noise you quickly found the team standing outside a door.

"What happened? Is he fine?" you spoke fast, panicking, stopping in front of the door, wanting to go in.

"Hey, it's fine" Steve stepped forward and put his hands on your shoulder to keep you outside the room. "They are treating him so you can't go in." he pulled on your body to get away from the entrance.

"But what happened?" you calmed down a little, but your heart was still beating rapidly, worried for your man.

"He got stabbed in the side." you sucked in a sharp breath. "But he will be fine, the wound is not that deep and the serum will help him heal fast." he spoke calmly. You let out a sigh just as the door opened and the doctor walked out with Bucky right behind him. You were in front of him in a few steps, worry clear in your eyes.

"Shouldn't he be resting?" you turned to the doc. How can he just walk around like this when he was stabbed? Were you the only one worried for his health?

"No, it's only a small wound. He didn't even need stitches." the doctor reassured you.

"You realize I'm right here, right?" he teased you, but the look you gave him shut his mouth.

"Yes and you should to be in bed, resting" you grabbed his hand and started pulling him after you. You had a lot of strength for your small body so you could easily drag him along. And he also let you, but you didn't need to know that. "We are going to your room and you are not leaving that bed until tomorrow, understood?" you pointed at him when you were in the elevator again.

"Yes ma'am" he nodded with a smirk playing on his lips. He had a few ideas how he could spend the rest of the day in bed with you. And it definitely didn't involve resting.

Walking into his room you immediately pushed him onto the bed. He grabbed your waist to pull you into his lap, but you held yourself up by placing your hands on his shoulder.

"No, Bucky, you need to rest and heal" you shook your head.

"I'm not trying to do anything. I just want you close to me" his beautiful baby blue eyes were enough to convince you as you sighed and let him sit you on his lap. Legs on either side of him you buried your head in his neck, your hands going to his hair.

"I was worried, hell, I'm still worried" you mumbled into his shoulder.

"I know, doll, but I'm fine." he placed your hand on his injury to show you he was truly fine. It really wasn't that bad. "See? Everything is fine" he smiled at you when you pulled away to look at him. "So..." he stretched out the last syllable as each hand gripped one of your ass cheeks, pulling you closer so you could feel the already growing bulge in his pants. "as I'm perfectly fine. I haven't seen you in 3 days and I missed your beautiful body under me." breath hitting the shell of your ear he whispered, making you arch your back into him. You almost got lost in him, but then you remembered that he was injured so you pushed against his chest to put some distance between you.

"You are hurt, Bucky. We can't let it get worse just because you are horny." you explained to him, not amused.

"It won't get worse. I'm a super-soldier remember?" he pulled you back and in one swift motion he flipped the two of you around so you were lying under him. He pushed you up on the bed until your head was on the pillows, his body on top of you, between your legs.

"Bucky!" you let out a small scream at his fast movement, which turned into a moan as he rolled his hips against you.

"What was that, doll?" he smirked into the skin on your neck, his hands traveling down and disappearing into your sweatpants to rub your clit through the fabric of your panties. His name leaving your lips again like a prayer, you lifted your hips to get him to move harder, but he pulled his finger away. Letting out a needy whine you grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head.

He pulled your pants down along with your panties in one swift motion, making you moan as the air hit your wet folds. You opened your legs for him as he stood up to take off his pants, making his hands halt at zipper, his whole body frozen as he stared at you like you were the most beautiful art he has ever seen. The sight of you lying only covered by a t-shirt on his bed, legs bent at the knees, open and so ready for him, so eager had his cock strain against his pants harder, almost painfully. He pulled it down with his boxers, leaving him completely naked for you, his cock standing at attention, ready to please you in every way you wanted. Eyes roaming up and down his body you let out a loud breath, his body never failing to awaken the butterflies in your stomach.

"Take off that shirt, babydoll" he growled, hating the piece of fabric hiding you from his eyes. You quickly sat up and removed every last clothing you had on, never closing your legs. Hungry eyes traveled down your waiting body as you laid back down. They stopped at your glistening center, making you move your hips slightly, only for him to see. He groaned at the sight, his hand going to his cock and stroking it a few times. He wanted to look at you looking like this for an eternity, but his body couldn't wait any longer so he knelt at the bottom of the bed, eyes never leaving you.

"I wish I could take a picture of you like this" he crawled towards you on all fours, like a predator stalking his prey and you were the subject of his hunger. You opened your legs further as if offering yourself up for him, ready to be devoured. "So beautiful and so ready for me" he came face to face with you, his eyes following his index finger brushing along your body from the base of your neck to your wet pussy that was leaking onto the bed. Your body followed his movement, arching into his touch. "Would you like that?" he pushed his finger inside you, sliding in easily as you were already so wet, earning a loud moan. "Hmm?" he hummed into your ear, not moving his finger, waiting for your answer. You didn't even remember what he said, all your senses focused on his touch.

"I-" just as you opened your mouth to speak he pulled out his finger, making the words get stuck in your throat as you threw your head back.

"I want you to use your words" he growled, not pleased by your lack of focus. "You understand?" he looked into your eyes, the intensity in them almost making you moan again.

"Yes, yes I understand" you scrambled to answer.

"Good girl" his finger entered you again as a reward. His praise and his touch together made you let out a loud breath, your nails scratching on his back.

"You are so responsive to me. I love it." his thumb circled your clit. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" he was testing you to see if you learned from what happened before.

"Yes, I am" you arched your back as he let out a pleased chuckle.

"That's a good girl" he kissed down your body until he reached your mound, your hips moving constantly, trying to feel more. His metal hand gripped your hips so strongly you were sure it would leave bruises the next day, but right now it only added to your desire, your walls clenching around his finger.

His tongue finally touched your clit, your legs unconsciously closing around his head to keep him there. He pulled his finger out so his hands can push open your legs by your thighs again, even more than it was before. Your hands gripped his hair, pulling him closer as his tongue moved in every direction between your folds. You couldn't stop moving your hips in sync with him, moans spilling out of your mouth one after the other. He grabbed your hips to keep you down, his forearms keeping your legs open for him.

"Bucky, oh my god" you grabbed his hands as his tongue entered you briefly. He looked up from under his eyelashes as he did it again, your nails digging into his skin leaving crescent marks behind. Pupils blown as wide as they can be making your eyes almost fully black, mouth open in a silent moan, you were a sight he never wanted to forget. If it meant you looked like this under him every time he used his tongue on you, he would do it again and again and again until you couldn't take it anymore. He pushed harder against you, your back arching up from the bed in response. He pushed his tongue inside you again.

" 'm close- Bucky" you keened.

"Be a good girl and come for me" he talked into your wet folds, the vibration snapping the coil inside your stomach as white hot pleasure rushed through you, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. He worked you through your orgasm and only stopped when you pulled him upwards by his hair, the bundle of nerves becoming sensitive. Climbing up he pressed a few wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck, his right hand drawing circles on your hipbone. The tip of his erect member brushed against your wet clit, making you gasp.

"Are you sensitive, doll?" he pressed his soft lips on your cheek.

"Yes" you closed your eyes as his lips found yours in a deep kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. You could taste yourself on him, making you sigh.

"But you can take another one, can't you?" he nipped at the skin on your jaw. He spent enough time with and mostly inside your body to know the answer to his question, but he wanted to make sure you were fine. Forcing or pushing you was never something he wanted to do and if you said no he would immediately stop, no matter how turned on he was. He could always take care of himself if needed.

"Yes. I want you inside me" your words made his hand travel down to your clit again, rubbing a few circles on it.

"Mhm, so good to me" he mumbled into your skin as your hips started moving again. A finger entered your warm walls for a second time, a second one joining not long after, stretching you out.

"Bucky" you threw your head back on the pillows, his lips sucking on the skin on your neck. "Shit- I want your cock... please" you moaned, barely being able to form sentences. He pulled his fingers out, making you writhe at the emptiness. His tongue darted out to lick and suck his them clean, letting go with a pop. The sight was enough to get you even more wet than you already were. His hard cock pressed against you folds to gather the wetness on them. He grabbed you leg and pulled it up to wrap it around his hips. Your body never resting under him, you constantly fidgeted as the desire became too much.

"Inside me, Bucky please-" you pleaded and he heard your prayers as in one motion he was inside you to the hilt, your wetness strong enough for it to not hurt. The sound you let out was the sexiest thing Bucky had ever heard, making him move out and then forcefully back into you, your tight walls engulfing him. You felt every inch of him stretching you out, the slight pain only adding to the overwhelming feeling, your eyes rolling back in your head.

"You okay?" he stilled for a minute to make sure he wasn't hurting you.

"More than okay" you sighed, lifting your hips to make him move again. He understood your signal as he started sliding in and out of you in a slow pace, enjoying every minute of it.

"Bucky" his name was the only thing leaving your mouth, like a prayer. To whom, you didn't know.

He felt your walls clench around him, making him pick up the pace and bring your legs up and around his waist. The new angle allowed him to dive into your harder, your legs squeezing to pull him impossibly closer. Your lips found his in a messy kiss. You felt his cock twitch inside you as he moaned.

" 'm close" he groaned into your lips as he started moving more frantically, chasing his high. One hand found your clit as he rubbed circles on it, trying to get you to finish together.

"Fuck- Bucky" your arms wrapped around his neck as he bit down on your neck almost hard enough to draw blood. "Cum inside me please" you whined so close to the edge.

"Cum with me, doll" he snapped his hips against yours, balls slapping against your thighs, fingers not leaving the bundle of nerves between your legs.

"James!" you screamed as you fell apart, him not far behind you, his name leaving your lips sending him over the edge. He thrust inside you a few times before pulling out as you both came down from your orgasms. His body falling next to you he let out a puff of air.

"Are you tired, old man?" you turned your head at him, joking.

"You know very well I could go a few more rounds" he smirked at you, leaning over you to press a soft kiss on your mouth. Being a super-soldier had its perks, not getting tired that easily being one of them. But you weren't one so Bucky had to hold himself back from jumping you, fingers itching to touch you and make you sing underneath him again.

But then your eyes shut closed, your hand searching for his blindly and when it found it's missing puzzle piece, pulling it to your face to press it against your cheek a sigh leaving your lips, he realized that these moments were far more precious than anything else he could have done. A small smile worked it's way onto his face, watching you get comfortable, the need to feel him next to you while you rested, making his heart melt. The love he felt for you almost overwhelming him as he brushed a few strands of hair out of your face. A small smile showed on your lips as you sighed, content with his touch.

"I love you" you whispered so quietly he almost didn't hear you.

"I love you too" he whispered back, not wanting to break the moment by speaking louder.

The orange glow of the setting sun shone trough the window illuminating the two hearts beating for each other as their bodies touched, resting, knowing well that when the sun greeted them in the morning they would still be here, still holding onto the other, their hearts forever beating as one.

-

Permanent taglist: @byatomoe

get added to my taglist

[fanficimagery]

When Enough is Enough pt. II

Imagine being let down one too many times by your best friend, only to end up making some new ones in the process.

Words: 8.5K Author’s Note: Okay so some of you asked to only be added to part 2 of this while others asked to be added everything Bucky.. and a few others weren’t exactly clear. So if you want to be tagged in any future Bucky related imagines please let me know so I can get your blog name written down on my list.

Tags:  @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination  @mimilh @felicityofbakerstreet @eternalharry @eliwinchester99 @intothesoul​ @wintershadowkat  @b1sexualtonystark  @meredeph @miszswan

The Sunday before you are to return to work, you sleep in until nine in the morning. Your thoughts are immediately on Bucky's impending arrival and you couldn't help the butterflies that took flight in your stomach. He's a friend, just as all the others are, but you couldn't help but notice just how attractive this new friend of yours is. But not only does his attractiveness draw you in, his easy-going teasing and protectiveness does too. However, Bucky Barnes is still a man trying to find his footing in this world after all that's been done to him and finally getting his name cleared, and if he finds comfort with you then you're going to try your best and be the friend he needs.

So since you're not dressing to impress, you dress in your favorite lazy outfit after your shower- leggings, sports bra, a faded sleeveless band tee with the arm holes having been cut down to around your ribs, and a pair of socks. Damp hair gets gathered up into a messy bun and you walk around your apartment to pick up some things you had unknowingly left out.

You've skipped breakfast, so when there's a knock on your door and you open up to find Bucky standing there, you groan in relief. He raises both hands with paper bags hanging from each. "I come bearing sushi. Wanda let it slip how much you love it."

"Yesss." You step back, quickly taking in his own comfort outfit of sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt under an opened jacket. "Did you bring plenty of wasabi? And you can just kick off your shoes anywhere."

"Of course." He hands you the bags so he can kick off his shoes and strip out of his jacket before hanging it up. You don't know why, but seeing him in a short sleeve shirt makes you happy, knowing full well he was weird about his metal arm being out in the open. "And plenty of dipping sauce as well. Wanda was more than happy to give me advice."

"Wanda, huh?" You chuckle, leading the way to your kitchen. "You actually told her where'd you be?"

"Apparently I looked very pensive this morning. She asked and I figured she was a better confidant than Steve or Sam who would have made a big deal about us hanging out."

"True." Setting the bags down, you let him empty them while you head to the fridge. "Beer?"

"Yeah."

Grabbing him a beer and yourself a can of Cola, you return to the table and your eyes widen at the sight of all the sushi. "Damn, Barnes. That's a lot of sushi."

"Don't act like you won't eat half of it."

You laugh as you take a seat, handing him his beer and pulling a few trays to your side of the table. You take a container of wasabi and dipping sauce for yourself, and grab a pair of chopsticks to start digging in.

You moan in delight at your first taste, happily shimmying in your seat before taking another. Eventually, you ask, "So what are you going to do when I'm back at work and I can't keep you entertained by getting shitfaced?"

Bucky grins around his mouthful of food before chasing it down with a swig of his beer. "We actually got a mission comin' up so I'll be leavin' around mid-week."

"Well that sucks." You sigh. "Now who am I going to send random pictures to when I have downtime at work?"

He grins. "You can still send them to me. I just won't get back to you until after the mission's complete."

"Yeah, yeah."

The two of you continue to eat- Bucky dodging Steve's texts about where he is and when he's coming back, and you sending the middle finger emoji over and over to Wanda who keeps wondering how your date is going. Then once most of the sushi is gone and Bucky puts what little is left into the fridge, the two of you head to the living room. You immediately flop onto the couch as Bucky takes the plush recliner, only for you to hear him moving the chair into its reclined position seconds later.

"Oh. I definitely need to get one of these."

You laugh as he snuggles down and you pick up the remote to bring up your streaming services. "Anything you've been meaning to watch?"

"Not really. Just show me your favorites."

You start off with some humor by playing the Goonies. It's a movie that no matter how many times you've seen it, it always seems to make you laugh. And it seems Bucky is not immune either when they make Chunk to the truffle shuffle. Titanic plays afterwards, but only after making sure Bucky found it somewhat interesting after reading the movie summary to him. He is interested from beginning to end and doesn't even laugh at you when you shed a few tears for the old married couple who opt to stay in their bed as the room floods.

When a break is needed, you head off towards the bathroom as Bucky finishes off the leftover sushi. Both of you check your phones and read each other the missed text messages from Steve and his worrying behavior.

"Wanna tell Steve to fuck off via video message?" Bucky takes a moment to think on it before he grins and nods. "Excellent. Sit in the recliner. I'm gonna crawl up all in your business. That okay?"

"Yeah."

As Bucky gets comfortable in the recliner, you sit on the armrest before sliding down sideways onto his lap. You bring up the camera app on your phone and switch it to video, sliding your right arm behind Bucky's neck while holding your left arm out to capture the two of you on the screen. "Ready?"

"Sure, doll."

You chuckle quietly and then smirk mischievously as Bucky relaxes his expression into his best resting bitch face. After you hit record, you say, "Hey Rogers, stop being a little bitch and sending us text after text. I'm tryin' to fuck your best friend here." Bucky's expression cracks as he barks out a laugh and you turn to face him while grinning. You share a laugh with him before facing the camera once more. "Only joking, but seriously stop buggin' us. I promise to send him back in one piece."

As you prepare to send the text to Steve, Bucky says, "You're terrible."

"Whatever. Admit it, you adore me."

"Occasionally."

You huff another laugh as the video message finally sends. You and Bucky both watch as the delivered status turns to read, and then those three little dots appear as Steve starts typing his reply.

"Tell Bucky to wrap it before he taps it." You burst out laughing at Steve's text, Bucky's rumbling laughter only fueling yours even more. "God I hate your best friend sometimes." And before you climb off Bucky's lap, because honestly you were getting a little too comfortable, you send Steve a few middle finger emojis before deciding on a third movie to watch.

The third movie you choose is one that never fails to make you laugh- Bridesmaids. You had a moment of hesitancy because of the sex scenes, but you figured they were ridiculous enough that it wouldn't be awkward. Thankfully you're correct and you get the added bonus of hearing Bucky's laughter again during Megan's scenes, especially when they get food poisoning and are all fighting for the bathroom.

You and Bucky take yet another break after the film, just stretching and finding something to drink.

"So what's the verdict, Barnes? Are you enjoying the films?"

He grins. "Your taste is all over the place, huh? That last one we watched was raunchy."

"But hilarious! You need to watch the Hangover trilogy, but you definitely need to watch that with Steve and then watch him squirm at the pictures that roll with the credits."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Jurassic Park holds his attention and he can't help but comment how stupid one has to be to replicate dinosaur DNA and then open up a park with live dinosaurs. You laugh, but don't bother commenting. You'll tell him later there are more movies involved, with yet another idiotic man who felt he could get the park up and running once more.

It's getting dark, but it's still a little too early for dinner. One more movie and then you'll order or go out and pick something up.

"So this last one for the day is a movie that's directed more towards the female viewers, but you did ask for my favorite films and Practical Magic is my absolute favorite."

"Well put it on, doll."

As you press play on Practical Magic, you quickly grab a throw blanket and snuggle in. Instead of watching Bucky, you watch the film and mumble certain quotes to yourself. The magic scenes always bring a soft smile to your face just as Gary's confession to Sally of I wished for you too breaks your heart, and Sally and Gillian's heartfelt sister moment makes you cry.

Afterwards, Bucky hums in thought. "So that's your favorite?"

"Absolutely." You tell him. He's watching you curiously and you grin. "If I show you something, you promise not to laugh?"

"I'll try."

"Whatever. That's good enough for me." Standing up, you walk towards him and kneel, and tell him to pull your shirt sideways by the armhole next to your left arm. There on the back of your left shoulder and forever etched into your skin is a salt shaker, a rosemary plant, a lavender plant, and a heart. You then rattle off one of your favorite quotes to him. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

Bucky chuckles as you get up, retaking your spot on the sofa. "You really are a fan of the movie."

You nod. "As a little girl, I was fascinated by magic. I thought I'd grow out of it, but I only grew more fond of it. And then I found Practical Magic and it had a bit of everything I adored."

"So what's the one scene that just gets you every time?"

"Ugh. You're making me choose?!" You feign being distraught and he grins. As you think about it, you keep coming back to two scenes in particular. "So there's two," you tell him, "and I'm not choosing between them." Bucky nods, awaiting your answer. "Gillian's possession. When Sally calls together the other mothers who were mean to her in order to make a temporary coven to save her sister, and Gillian begs Sally to just let her ghost ex have her."

Bucky hums. "That was a bit sad, doll. I saw you shedding a few tears over that."

"Mhm. And the other scene is when Sally comes clean to Gary and admits that she did a spell as a child to call forth her perfect love thinking it wouldn't exist, only it did. When Gary tells Sally that he wished for her too, it just breaks my fuckin' heart."

"Let me guess, you were one of the girls who cast her own spell after seeing that scene." You stay quiet for a moment and the second you feel your face heat, Bucky laughs. "What did you wish for?"

You groan quietly. "If I tell you, you can't laugh!" He only smiles in response and you know he won't drop it until you tell him. "Fine. So even though I knew it would never work, I gathered the weirdest objects and wished for a significant other with dark hair and colored eyes. He had to be protective and funny and love me for me. Simple."

For some reason you can't seem to meet Bucky's gaze then and you feel awkward the longer the silence stretches on.

"So dinner?" He asks.

"Oh god, yes please. Pizza and wings?"

"Sounds good."

You have the nearby pizza place on speed dial, so after finding out Bucky's preferences you make the call and place the order. It's going to be about a thirty minute wait, so you fill the time sending Steve pic after pic of Bucky who's none the wiser as he scrolls through his own phone and adding the most asinine comments to each picture. Steve thinks it's absolutely hilarious.

Then when the pizza and wings arrive, you beat Bucky to the door and thrust several bills at the delivery boy. He's more than happy with his tip and you hurriedly wave him off before shutting the door. You laugh at Bucky's disgruntled expression and then place everything on the table while gathering a beer for both you and him.

"Don't let me have more than two," you tell him while handing him his own bottle of beer.

Bucky agrees and the two of you dig into your own personal pizzas and boxes of wings once you're situated around the table. As you're eating, Bucky asks about what other movies you hold near and dear. You fill him in on a few others and he hesitantly puts it out there that he'd be up for another movie marathon when you both have a day off. You agree that that's doable.

Halfway through dinner, as you and Bucky are chuckling over the thought of making Steve sit through Bridesmaids, there's a sound of glass breaking from your living room and a muffled curse. The two of you immediately cease making any type of noise and Bucky is up with a gun in hand.

"Where the hell did that come from?! You hiss.

The telltale sound of a window then sliding shut can be heard.

"Shut up and get behind me."

The authority in his voice makes you freeze and your heart flutter at the same time, and you have to mentally scold yourself before you quickly do as he says. You follow Bucky towards the living, ready to duck at the ready, only to sigh and roll your eyes when you see who it is.

Bucky stands tall and lowers his gun. "Parker." You can practically hear the annoyance in his voice.

"Mr. Barnes?" Peeking around his shoulder, you raise your eyebrow at your best friend who's been too busy for you and is now frowning at Bucky. When he catches sight of you, he asks, "What's going on?"

"Uh, well we were having dinner until we thought someone was breaking in."

"Alone?!"

Your brow furrows at Peter's incredulousness, only for him to realize you're not impressed with his tone. You raise an eyebrow at him and cross your arms over your chest. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, um, yeah." He shifts from foot to foot, gesturing to his face where there's a scrape on his cheekbone. "My ribs took a beating too. Can you patch me up?"

"Sure." You sigh. "Why not."

Before you can leave to go to the bathroom to get the supplies you need, Bucky says, "I'll just get out of your way then."

You stop and face him. "What? But we haven't even finished our food. It won't take me long."

"It's fine, doll." He grins when he realizes you're trying to get him to stay. "You gotta hit the hay early anyway. We'll talk soon."

You hold his gaze for a moment longer, sighing when he won't budge. "Well at least take your food with you. No use in it going to waste."

Bucky nods and heads back to the kitchen, collecting his food. You watch him and then follow him to the door, holding his food while he bends over to lace up his boots. Once he retakes his food and you open the door, he thanks you for the time away from the tower and disappears down the hall.

Shutting the door and then heading back into the living room, you tell Peter to get back into his regular clothes so you can get to his ribs while you go gather your medical supplies.

Meeting Peter back in the living room and setting everything down on the coffee table, he says, "So you and Bucky-"

"Don't." You pick up the peroxide bottle and soak a cotton ball in it. "Bucky and I are friends."

Peter manages to keep his mouth shut as you clean the scrape on his cheek and place a small bandage on it. Then when you've checked his ribs and tell him he just needs to ice them, he mumbles, "Friends who apparently lick each other." You snort and think nothing of his sullen tone, but when you look at his face you see he's actually being quite serious. There's no chuckle or boyish grin and for a moment you're absolutely floored at his attitude. "I don't think I'm comfortable with Bucky being alone with you in your apartment."

"Are you- are you kidding me?" You huff and take a step back from him. When Peter just continues to frown, you shake your head at him. "First of all, I'm an adult woman who can make her own decisions."

"I know, but-"

"I'm not finished!" You snap. Peter's eyes widen, but he smartly ceases talking. "I am allowed to have friends whether you like them or not. We have a pact, Petey, and since I'm still abiding by it I would hope that you would too."

"Yeah, but that's for significant others!"

"Significant others or friends, it doesn't matter. And you should be grateful I've kept my mouth shut when it comes to you and Leslie because let me tell you, I've been biting my tongue a lot these past few weeks. Bucky and the others have stepped up since you've abandoned me, so you have absolutely no room to tell me that you're uncomfortable with him or any of them being around me."

"Leslie isn't that bad and I have not abandoned you." You snort, but don't bother opening that can of worms even further. He finally gets annoyed with your quietness. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're here because you needed a bandage. Tell me, Peter, where are you going after here? Where are you going after making five minutes of small talk and calling it a night?" He opens his mouth and then snaps it shut, shrugs, and you shake your head at him once more in disappointment. "Exactly. Just go, Peter. I'm so over this conversation right now and I have work in the morning."

"Wait, but we promised we'd never leave a conversation where we were still annoyed with each other!"

"And we also promised we'd never judge who the other decided to spend time with, but here we are." He frowns at you. "Go to your girlfriend, Peter. We'll talk again in another few days or weeks or whenever. I don't care right now."

Peter stands there, gaping, before he pulls himself together and makes his way back towards the window he had crawled through. He glances at you one last time, but you merely keep staring until his mask encompasses his head once more and he lifts the window before taking his leave.

As the window shuts behind him, you sag in on yourself and your breathing stutters in your chest as your eyes fill with tears. You've never been this angry at Peter and the fact that he thinks it's okay to ignore you until he needs something and then has an opinion about who you hang out with was just too much for you to let slide.

You quickly gather everything from your coffee table and return it to its rightful place in your bathroom, and throw away the trash. Your appetite is long gone, so you put up what's left of your food and then head to your room to gather some clothes so you can shower and get into bed.

By the time you've crawled into bed, you're still a bit annoyed. So grabbing your phone, you pull up your text messages and click on Bucky's thread.

To Bucky: Well that was a shit show. I don't think I've ever made Petey leave my apartment while we were still angry with each other.

From Bucky: I'm sorry, doll. Anything I can do?

To Bucky: If he gives you attitude, get a non-serum individual to punch him. You, Steve, and probably Nat will send him flying into the wall.

From Bucky: If I remember..

To Bucky: Well I mean if you forget, I won't complain. I'll probably laugh when he comes crying to me.

From Bucky: You're a terrible human being.

To Bucky: Whatever. You adore me just the way I am. And now I should get some shut eye. I'll talk to you soon. Night, Sarge.

From Bucky: Night, sweetheart.

For the next couple of weeks, you keep yourself busy with work. Bucky and a few others do go on a mission as he said they would, so you keep your texts to a minimum of three each day- a good morning, a random story from that day, and a good night. They're gone for four days and in those four days you've not heard from Peter. The only reason you know he's not completely done with you is the fact he likes your posts that you put up on social media.

But since you're not currently speaking to your best friend and are too exhausted to hang out with anyone else, you're in a bit of a funk and completely caught off guard one evening when the patient a police officer brings in smacks you right across the face. You had been trying to insert an IV into his arm when he completely lost his shit, and then you were hit so hard that you were strewn across the gurney behind you. And in your vulnerable position, a fistful of your hair had been grabbed and yanked right before the police officer had intervened and pulled the patient off of you.

You had been given a bit of time to ice your cheek before you had to get back to work, but your face and scalp were hurting you the entire time.

On your way home, however, you're surprised to receive a call from Pepper. You're heading towards your apartment complex when she invites you to dinner there at the tower since Darcy is finally back in town, and you hate to do it, but you're not exactly up to be around such a rowdy bunch. So you apologize to Pepper and ask her to apologize to Darcy for you, and take a rain check. Immediately she knows something is wrong, but you only tell her you had a rough night at work and all you want is a hot shower and to crawl into bed. She hesitates but wishes you well, and the call ends moments later.

When you get home, you waste no time in locking the door behind you and heading straight for your bathroom. You strip down and take the hottest shower your body is capable of handling, and let yourself relax in the steam-filled room. Afterwards, as you're drying off, you gently dry your hair since your scalp is still sensitive and then get dressed in some of your comfort clothes.

Then heading out into the kitchen, you find some leftovers in your fridge and heat those up, tiredly sitting at your kitchen table and digging in. Just as you're done with your food and heading towards the living room, someone pounds on your apartment door. You sigh, hoping they go away, and have only plopped down onto the sofa when a familiar gruff voice speaks through the wood.

You quietly groan as Bucky tells you he knows you're there and you get up to open the door for him. He's on the verge of knocking again when you swing the door open. "Hey. Pepper said-" He trails off as he takes in your appearance, expression going slack before his jaw clenches in anger. "Who?"

You shake your head, gesturing him inside as you turn around and walk towards your sofa. You hear your door click shut before the footsteps follow you. "Work got a little hectic. No need to hunt down anyone, Barnes. I'm fine."

"Half your face is bruised, doll. You are not fine."

"It's all part of my job." You shrug and plop down onto the sofa once more. Pulling a blanket over your lap, you stare up at your friend. "There will always be a drunk and disorderly patient. I was just lucky he didn't do more damage."

Bucky frowns, but he doesn't push you on it. Instead, he walks over and sits next to you, angling his body towards yours when gentle fingers grasp your chin to angle your face more towards him. "What exactly happened?" He asks as his eyes dart over every inch of your face.

"Some petty criminal did some damage to his head in the back of a patrol car. Police officer brought him in and he seemed pretty docile up until I jabbed him with the IV. He got the drop on me. It happens." Gentle fingers brush along your cheekbone and you flinch. Tears sting your eyes as you sniffle. "I'm fine."

"Just because you keep sayin' that doesn't mean it's true."

Your bottom lip wobbles at his words and you lose the battle with keeping the tears at bay. The moment they fall, Bucky pulls you into a hug and you cry into his shoulder. "Dammit," you mumble. "See what you started!"

Bucky chuckles and he holds you a few moments longer, rubbing a hand up and your back to offer a semblance of comfort. When he lets you go, you fall back against the sofa cushions and wipe the tears away with your blanket. "So what are we watching?" He asks while settling in next to you and draping an arm behind your head.

"Shouldn't you go back to the tower and have dinner with the rest of them? I'm-"

"If you say you're fine one more time, I will drag you back to the tower and let Steve motherhen you."

You sigh. "Low blow, Buckaroo."

"And for that horrendous nickname, you've lost the privilege of choosing what we're going to watch."

You laugh and don't bother arguing with him about it as he leans across you to snag up the remote. When he settles back down and you snuggle into his side, you huff a small laugh when he settles on TLC which is showing 90 Day Fiancé.

"Why this show?" You ask.

"Because it blows my mind that some people are so oblivious and can't see that their chosen partner is only in it for the green card."

As you let his reasoning sink in, you can't help but giggle as you picture Bucky sitting in his own apartment and bad mouthing the TV because he didn't like the decisions the people were making in their love life. You watch along with him, cringing at the more obvious couples that are only headed for future divorce and smiling when one of the couples is actually in it for love.

You manage to almost watch a complete two hour episode when there's a knock on your door, but you're too comfortable to get up and answer it.

"You get it," you say as you nudge Bucky.

He nudges you back. "It's your apartment."

"Yeah, but I don't feel like getting up."

"You could have at least come up with a better excuse."

You grin, finally taking your eyes off the screen and glancing up at Bucky. "M'too tired. Brain's not working fast enough." He continues to give you a deadpan stare until you jut out your bottom lip. "Please?"

The second Bucky's lips twitch, you know you've won. He huffs and roughly pushes himself up off the sofa as if answering the door is a hardship, and you go back to watching TV. At least until you hear a familiar voice stammer, "Uh, h-hey Mr. Barnes. Is Y/N home?"

Your gaze snaps towards the door where Peter is standing out in the hallway, hands in his pockets as he sheepishly stares at Bucky. The man in question turns and raises an eyebrow at you as if saying what do I do and you give him a terse nod to let him know it's okay. Bucky steps aside and Peter readily walks in.

"I should be getting back to the tower," Bucky suddenly says. "You kids have fun."

This time it's your turn to give him a deadpan stare and he smirks right before slipping his boots back on. Then as soon as they're laced up, he's walking out the door and shutting it behind him. Peter, who hadn't stopped staring at the intimidating man, finally turns to look at you. And when he does, his eyes widen.

"What happened to your face?!"

You sigh. "I'm fine. Just had a little incident at work."

"And Mr. Barnes was what? Comforting you?"

"First of all, can you stop calling him Mr. Barnes? You two avenge together and what not. I'm pretty sure that means you're on a first name basis." Peter grins as he takes a seat on the recliner near you, shrugging. "And Bucky was here because when I turned down dinner at the tower, Pepper figured something was wrong. Bucky took it upon himself to check in."

"So are you two like a thing or something?" He wonders.

"We're just.. friends," you say. "For some unknown reason we clicked and we're comfortable in each other's company."

For a moment Peter doesn't say anything, nor will he meet your gaze, but then he's looking at you and sighing. "I'm sorry." You blink at him, surprised to hear the apology. "I shouldn't have freaked out that one night. Who you are friends with and who you decide to date is your business."

You finally smile, even though it's rather small. "Thank you. And don't get me wrong, I know you meant well, but you should have dropped it and just trusted my judgment."

"Yeah. I know," he mumbles.

"Soo.. are we good?" You ask.

"Yeah."

"Good. I was getting tired of you liking my posts and not commenting on them."

Peter snorts. A moment of silence passes and then he says, "So you'll be glad to know that Leslie and I aren't together anymore. I broke it off earlier tonight."

You wince. "Sorry."

"Nah. Don't be. She was totally using me for access to the tower." You're torn between being smug about being right and being sad for your friend who just ended his relationship. "I only realized it earlier when she got upset because Mr. Rogers posted a picture of you and Mr. Barnes together, and she had a few choice words to say about it."

"What? Steve posted a picture of us?" You quickly pull out your phone, checking social media for any notifications. There are none, but as you get on Instagram you check Steve's page and sure enough there's a new pic that shows Bucky staring fondly at you as you laugh at something on your phone. "That little shit didn't tag us!"

As your thumbs move furiously to give Steve a piece of your mind and to comment how adorable you and Bucky look, Peter can't help but say, "You're attracted to him."

Your texting falters and you quickly glance at your friend to gauge his reaction, but when he just looks amused, you shrug. "I mean have you seen him? How could I not be attracted to him?"

"Does he know?"

"I have a feeling he does. Asshole likes to fluster me every now and then."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure he likes you back." You snort and go back to finishing up the comment on Steve's post. "I'm serious. When we stopped talking, he threatened me. He was pissed that I made you cry and said I was lucky. He's actually really scary when you're on his bad side."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in and when they do you can feel your ears heating up, followed by your cheeks. Peter starts to laugh and you groan in embarrassment. "Why is this so weird? Dating should be easy!"

"Well he is an Avenger.."

"I don't care about that! He's just- he's really, really hot. It's intimidating."

"Wait, what?" Peter huffs. "So you're intimidated by his hotness and not because he's a super-soldier with a metal arm?"

"Well yeah."

Expression melting into one of confusion, your friend eventually shakes his head at you. "You're on your own with that. Good luck."

You hadn't realized how much everyone had known about your and Peter's brief falling out until the two of you were laughing together once again at the tower. It seemed like everyone had sagged in relief now that the two of you were poking fun at one another once more, and you had to apologize for apparently making it awkward for them.

And now that your best friend knew of your crush on a certain super-soldier, there was lots of teasing material. Of course you kept him in line when you could, but there was no stopping the force of Peter, Wanda, and Darcy combined.

It's a random Tuesday night when you've driven over to the Tower, Bucky having called you over for dinner with a few friends. You had the day off so you didn't mind heading on over, but as the elevator doors slide open after having ridden up to the communal floor, you yelp in surprise as the small gathered crows that shout, "Happy birthday!", at you.

Steve, Wanda, Sam, and Peter pop confetti poppers as you step out of the elevator, eyes wide as you glance between each of them. "My birthday is not until tomorrow!" You hiss.

"But you work tomorrow." Wanda frowns.

"Mhm." Your eyes then narrow, glancing behind them at the streamers and balloons hanging from the ceiling. "And how'd you guys even know?"

Everyone glances at Peter and he takes a step back when your gaze slides to him. He chuckles sheepishly. "I might have hid your birthday cupcake here and Steve found it."

"Petey," you groan. "Why couldn't you just hide it at aunt May's like usual? You know I dislike birthday celebrations."

"You don't dislike them. You just dislike all the attention being on you."

"Whatever. Where's Barnes? He's the one who lured me here under false pretenses. I got a bone to pick with him too."

Everyone turns around and Bucky's head appears from around the corner. He smirks and you glare at him. "Not false pretenses. We are having dinner," he says. "It just so happens to be a birthday dinner. And it's running a little bit late, so until the food gets here you get to open presents."

"You guys all suck."

Peter and Wanda each take a hand and drag you further into the room, heading towards the kitchen. Bucky fully steps out from behind the wall and you aim a kick at his shin as you're walking by. He laughs as he easily dodges it and then you're standing by the kitchen island that's been cleared of everything other than birthday presents.

You huff a small laugh and shake your head fondly at them. "I love you guys, but you do know you didn't have to get me anything, right?"

"Shut up and open the presents," Bucky says.

"Open mine first," Sam says, reaching into the small pile and pulling out a white envelope. "Unlike the others, I was literally told within the last thirty minutes we were doing this so yeah. It's not the best present, but I think you'll enjoy it."

You smile at Sam as you open it, chuckling at the plain birthday card and his brief personal message written inside. But it's what else that's inside that makes you meet Sam's gaze once more, smiling fondly at him. "Thank you. I can't get enough of bubble tea and I'm sure I can do some damage with this gift card."

"You're welcome."

"Mine next." Peter reaches in for a medium-sized box and hands it over to you. "I know you're not a fan of presents, so I got you something I actually knew you'd enjoy."

Raising an eyebrow at him, you pull the lid off of the box. Then glancing down, you snort before pulling out a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila. "I knew we were best friends for a reason."

Steve groans. "Please drink responsibly."

"Please. Responsible is my middle name, Rogers." Everyone snorts and instead of trying to remain serious and feign offense, you end up laughing. "Sam and Buck are good babysitters. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's to be determined," he says. "Here. Open mine. I honestly had no idea what to get you, but Peter assured me you'd enjoy this."

Putting the bottle of tequila back in its box, you accept Steve's gift. Pulling off the ribbon, you can't help but laugh when you see what's inside. "Cards Against Humanity." Peter cheers. "We're playing this the next time I have off," you say, grinning at Steve.

"What is Cards Against Humanity?" He wonders. "I just picked it up and boxed it."

"It's possibly one of the most confusing card games or raunchy card games you'll ever play," Sam says. "I, for one, am looking forward to it."

"Thank you, Steve. I seriously can't wait to play it."

"You're welcome."

Wanda claps her hands. "Mine and Darcy's next. She ordered online and I had to pick it up earlier. But, um, I'm not sure you want to open it up in front of everyone."

"Oh god. Don't tell me it's a vibrator."

Sam laughs out loud as both Peter and Steve start blushing. Bucky looks rather amused and intrigued as Wanda slides two boxes over to you. She shakes her head, giggling. "Not quite."

For a brief moment you're relieved, but then her answer sinks in and you're hesitant all over again. You groan. "Is yours safer? I feel like it is. Which one is it?"

Wanda only smirks as she pushes her box towards you. You open it, marvel at its contents, and then put the lid back on much to the boys' displeasure. Trying to keep a straight face, you look at Wanda. "How many sets did you get?"

"There's four. All in colors that will look amazing against your skin tone."

"Thank you. I'll send you pictures when I wear them."

"Yes please! Natasha wants to know how they fit as well. She was the one who suggested them."

"I'll send them to the ladies group chat then."

"Well that's not fair," Sam complains. "First for not showing us what's inside the box and then you guys have a ladies only group chat. I wanna be in the ladies only group chat."

"But then that defeats the purpose of it being a ladies only group chat," you muse.

"Come on," Peter then whines. "What was the present?"

Your gaze slides to Peter, but instead of outright saying what it is, you say, "Think back to that one Halloween night where you wouldn't let me out of the dorm until I switched costumes."

It takes him only a minute to understand and when he does, he snorts. "That wasn't a costume! That was lingerie."

"Whoa, what?" Sam exclaims, grinning.

"Lingerie can be worn as a costume?" Steve wonders.

"I was actually a Victoria's Secret Angel, complete with the most amazing set of wings, and Petey forbade me from leaving the room. It was a sad, sad night."

"As much as I wanna get into that," Sam says, "I wanna know what Barnes got you more."

You chuckle and glance at Bucky, smile faltering when you see him tense. But then he seems to shake himself out of it and offers you a grin. "Open the bigger one first."

Wanda clears away the other presents as Bucky slides his two towards you. You feel giddy as you grab the bigger box, untying the black silk ribbons and lifting the lid. There's tissue paper you open up and you gasp, happily giggling. "You didn't?!"

"Well you did say it was your favorite movie, sweetheart."

"Yes!" You glance up, beaming at Bucky, and your heart swells at his own smile being directed at you. "I really, really love this. I can't wait to hang it up."

"What is it?" Peter wonders, trying to peer across the island.

"It's a quote from Practical Magic," you say and Peter huffs a laugh, knowing full well your love for that movie. You carefully pick it up and turn it around so everyone can see it as you read it off by heart. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

"Aw," Wanda coos. "That's adorable."

"I made Bucky watch this movie a while back," you say. "I need to show it to you one of these days."

"I'm looking forward to it," she says.

With nothing else to say, you place it back in its box and set it aside in favor for the second box. It's a little smaller, but you're excited for it nonetheless. Untying the ribbon and lifting the lid, you immediately laugh at the white petals scattered atop the tissue paper.

"Barnes, you smooth sonuvabitch," Sam mutters.

Steve and Peter laugh, but you're so focused on the notecard that's under some of the petals. Lifting it up, you read the note to yourself because immediately you know it's personal. My better half has to be funny, get along with my friends, won't judge me for my past, and has decent taste in movies.

Heart fluttering, you bite the corner of your lip when it feels like you're smiling way too much.

"Well what does Prince Charming have to say?" Sam asks.

"That's none of your business." You close the note and then tuck into your back pocket, chuckling when Sam and Wanda complain. When you meet Bucky's gaze, you immediately flush and mentally curse yourself when you see him smirk in return.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you center yourself and then part the tissue paper. You look at the second portrait and gasp after you read it.

"What? What is it?" Peter wonders.

This second portrait is of a hand drawn bowl with a tipped over salt shaker, a small bundle of lavender, a small bundle of rosemary, and a heart beneath it. Above the bowl is a swirl of flower petals and inside the swirl of petals, in very pretty cursive writing, are the words I wished for you too.

Did he just- did he confess his own feelings by using a Practical Magic quote? Or was this just you overthinking his present? You glance to meet Bucky's gaze and at his gauging expression your eyes fill with tears.

"What did you do, Barnes?!" Sam scolds him. "You made the poor girl cry at her own birthday celebration!"

But Bucky isn't paying him any attention, instead he's solely focused on you. You set the present aside and walk around the kitchen island on shaky legs, and Bucky readily reaches for your waist as you grab his face and pull him down into a kiss.

You can't believe you're kissing Bucky, but then he squeezes your waist and returns the kiss, and you know you made the right choice.

Someone gasps, but then the following words let you know exactly who it is. "Darcy is going to be so angry she missed this." Wanda. That is Wanda.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam wonders. "What type of present can cause this type of reaction?"

You smile against Bucky's mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before falling flat on your feet after having been on the tips of your toes in order to reach his mouth.

"It's my favorite quote from my favorite movie," you say. You turn around to address your friends, but Bucky doesn't let you go far. He wraps one arm around your waist and tugs you back so you're resting against his chest and tucked beneath his chin. "It's a movie about witches," you explain. "These two little girls are being raised by their aunts and they see them performing love spells for a local woman. Basically, one of the young girls refuses to fall in love after witnessing a love spell gone wrong and she does her own spell to call forward a love that would be impossible to find- a man who's favorite shape would be a star and who had one green eye, one blue. Years down the road, the sisters accidentally murder a man."

Sam snorts. "How the hell does one accidentally murder someone?"

"Shush." Wanda admonishes him. "I want to hear the story behind the gift."

You and Bucky chuckle, and you continue to explain. "Anyway, they send in an US Marshall to investigate the disappearance and the one who had done the love spell at a young age starts to fall for this man. She ends up telling him about the murder, but he doesn't quite believe her. Then they're on the verge of hooking up when she gets a good look at his eyes- one green eye, one blue."

"Oh my god. That's so cute!" Wanda says.

"It gets cuter. And sadder," you say. "So she explains to this man about her family, the murder, and how she can't be with him because he's only attracted to her because of a love spell she did when she was just a little girl. At first he's skeptical about this spell bringing him to her, but then he ends up believing her. And as he's walking away from her, he stops to tell her I wished for you too."

"So you made out with Barnes because of that?" Sam shakes his head, chuckling. "Wow."

"It's fuckin' adorable. Stop ruining the moment, Samuel!" Bucky laughs at your words and pulls you closer to him.

"So while I'm happy for Buck," Steve says, "I'm still really curious about what Darcy's gift is."

Peter nods. "Same."

Wanda giggles, but says nothing as she grabs the box and slides it over to you. You groan because you know it can be nothing good, but you still open it since everyone is watching and waiting. As soon as you part the tissue paper and read the box, alongside taking in the picture on the box, your face flames as you shove the lid back on. Wanda cackles.

"I hate her."

"She said to give the remote to-"

"Don't!" You cut Wanda off, blushing even further. "I know who she means to have control of that."

"They- they make underwear that does that?" Bucky muses and you die a little on the inside in embarrassment. You elbow him as he starts to laugh behind you.

Sam instantly knows what the gift is now and starts to laugh, but Steve and Peter apparently need some help.

"Lewis got you vibrating panties, didn't she?"

"Oh my god, Sam, if you don't shut up I'm gonna punch you in the throat."

Steve is torn between laughing and trying not to make you even more uncomfortable, but his amusement wins out. "Given Y/N's flustered state, I'm assuming Darcy wants Bucky to have the remote."

"I mean this seems like it could make for an interesting night."

Everyone laughs at Bucky's sudden interest in the box you're doing your damnedest to keep shut, but luckily Peter steps in. "As much I love watching Y/N squirm, can we get ready to eat? I'm starving."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go wait downstairs for it, kid."

Sam and Peter head for the elevator to take them down to the lobby, and you turn around in Bucky's hold. "Help me take this stuff to my car so I don't have to do it later?"

"Sure thing, doll." He grins. But instead of stepping away, he pushes you further into the kitchen island. You smile as he cages you in and then huff a laugh when he reaches for the box behind you. "So exactly how long do we have to be dating before we can test these out?"

You slowly lean upward so your lips brush his as you say, "I'd say very, very soon if you would put your ass into gear and help me move these presents like I asked."

Bucky laughs and presses a quick kiss to your lips. "Then let's get to it."

The telltale sound of a phone's camera goes off and you turn your face towards the sound. Wanda is beaming, her phone pointed towards you and Bucky. "Darcy wanted evidence I wasn't lying. She's going to be so happy."

Bucky turns his face to look at her then, his cheek brushing against yours where he's yet to back off from you. "Tell Lewis I said thanks for the present. I'll give her my review of them in a few weeks."

Wanda's eyes widen and you immediately blurt, "Don't you dare!" But she's already texting and you know the group chat full of ladies is going to be full of messages that you'll have to reply to later. Quietly groaning, you slap your hands against Bucky's waist and push him back. Looking up at him, you shake your head but the corner of your lips turn up in amusement. "You're terrible. I would threaten to withhold sex, but I've been looking forward to that for a while. I'd just be punishing us both."

"Just tell me when and where, sweetheart, and I'll be there."

"Oh no. You guys are going to be that couple," Steve complains.

And without missing a beat, you face him and say, "Fuck off, Rogers!" Bucky snorts.

"You're cranky when you haven't gotten laid."

You gasp as Bucky bursts out laughing right in your ear, but he quickly catches you as you try to lunge for his best friend. "You know what, I was going to be discreet when banging your best friend, but now I'm going to tell you all the filthy things Bucky likes to do just to annoy you. I will go into excruciating detail about the look and taste of his dick!"

Steve blanches as it's Wanda's turn to burst out laughing. "You've done it now, Steve."

And as Steve looks to Bucky for help, he merely shrugs. "You brought this on yourself, Stevie. Hope you enjoy the play by plays."

Relaxing in Bucky's hold and moving so you're hip to hip with him, you slide your arm behind his waist and hook your thumb into the belt loop of his jeans. "We're going to have so much fun."

[slowpoke-fics]

Appreciated

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: softish!dom!Steve x Reader, former Natasha x Steve, former Thor x Reader

Summary: The team make a bet that you have to settle, sending Steve into a sexual frenzy.

Warnings: alcohol, sexual themes, pet names, Dom!Steve, slapping, rough sex, soft sex, overstimulation, pleasure Dom, use of traffic light safe words, fluff, smut, choking, crying but in an I love you way, still crying kink, subspace, little bit o’ cockwarming, I know I've missed some, so please read at your own risk 18+

A/N: I really enjoyed the lovey dovey vibes I got from this, I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it; 4.1k words

You’re surrounded by the team in the common room, all of you with a glass of Asgardian liquor in your hand. It’s a rare time that you all get to sit around and relax, just talk to each other like people. You’re all laughing because somehow you’ve gotten to Thor vs Steve, who was more worthy. Everyone is a little intoxicated, none more so than Sam, who is leaning against Bucky, poking the bear. “I would lay a hundred down to say Thor’s got it hung,” Sam hiccups, “I mean, the man radiates big dick energy.”

Natasha laughs, hiding her face under Clint’s arm for a moment before joining Sam, “You’re wrong big bird,” clicking her tongue at Steve, “our super soldier is swinging, uncomfortably so.” Thor shakes his head, glancing at you, then quickly noting you’re hiding behind Steve, sure of where this was going. Tony hisses at the conversation, “I’m offended I’m not even in the race.” That causes Bucky to break out into laughter, shaking his head, “Stark, you aren’t even on the leaderboard.” The group erupts into laughter, Tony shaking his head when Pepper whispers something in his ear, a blush rising to his cheeks as his shifts in his seat.

You smirk at Tony, but you are no longer able to ignore the bickering between Sam and Natasha. “I’ve had personal experience, you ever seen Thor, Sam?” Sam rolls his eyes, grinning with teeth, “The man’s massive, Nat, his weapon is a hammer, you ever understand innuendos?” Wanda and Peter can’t control their laughter anymore, and Steve’s hand grips your thigh roughly when you nip at his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell them?” Steve whispers in your ear, nipping just under your neck. You shake your head and blush moving your head away from him. He rubs your thigh gently turning back to the conversation. He wasn’t going to push, of course he wasn’t, he loves you and wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.

The rest of them though? Too drunk to care.

Wanda is the first one to speak up, after her heavy laughter stops, “Y/n,” your head is snapping up to hers, “you have personal experience with both of them, why don’t you enlighten us?” You laugh and shake your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying.

Thor hums in appreciation, reminiscing on the days when you two were bed buddies, “Ah yes, little lamb, why don’t you tell them how good I am?” You gasp, the outright disrespect Thor throws at Steve to call you a name reserved for only when you were under him and the insinuation that he knew how to please you better than Steve made your blood boil at his cockiness. The alcohol poisoning your liver made you laugh at the situation though, because nobody is ever going to compare to Steve. Unable to catch your breath for a minute, Nat and Sam boast out, “Oh yes, enlighten us on the most worthy member,” and “Y/n/n, Thor’s a god, I know you’re with Steve now, but be honest.”

You snap your head at Sam, squinting your eyes, a challenge. You turn to Natasha with an apologetic look, causing the circle to break out in little giggles, ooo’s and ahh’s. Steve’s smirking because he knows you, studies you in his spare time, knows this joke. “Oh, Nat, I’m sorry,” the group breaks out into laughter and you raise your voice with a 180, now dripping with pride instead of regret, “for the two hundred bucks Sam just lost!” Steve grips your thigh again as you rub your fingers together towards Sam, “Pay up, because my Stevie,” you learn forward as the circle drops to a pen drop silence, “he’s a god himself.”

The entire group hoops and hollers, Thor shaking his head with a sip on his drink, hoping you were just talking up your man for brownie points. Nat raises her arms and let’s put a happy scream, “Oh, suck on that, big bird!” Sam’s gaping at you, he huffs and pulls out his wallet, slamming a hundred in your hand then Nat’s outstretched one. You laugh, slamming back onto Steve, pressing your lips into his. He twists his hand to the side of your face, pressing you into him. Tony groans and kicks Steve’s leg, “Put it on ice, Capsicle.” Before you could back away from Steve, he growls in your ear, “Good girl.”

Steve’s throbbing, you can see it. See how hard he is through his pants, see his cock twitching. You know that when you get to your bedroom, you’re going to get exactly what you want. He’s so distracted by you, by the way you openly claimed him in front of everyone. You were his good girl, and he couldn’t wait to show you. So once Tony and Pepper announce their goodbyes, you and Steve are quick to follow, dismissing yourselves and stumbling off to the elevator.

You’re giggling and leaning on Steve, as soon as you’re out of eye line of the other members, he picks you up over his shoulder. You let out a small yelp and shake a little, “Stevie, let me go!” He laughs and playfully slaps your ass, “No, dove,” he whispers, “not in a million years.”

When you step onto the elevator, he unclips your left shoe, “You know what you do to me?” He slides it off, holding it by a strap on his pinky, “Blind me with your energy,” he unclips the right shoe as the elevator opens, “take my breath away with your touch,” he slides the shoe off to hang it next to it’s match. You’re rubbing his back with one hand, your other peaking through his waistband on his hip. You’re intoxicated by his praise more than you could ever be by alcohol.

He’s carrying you down the hall towards your room, curling the hand that’s holding your shoes around your ass, holding you and your dress in place. "Bring me back from the edge," his free hand grabs the zipper on the back of your dress and pulls roughly, opening your dress in one tug. He quickly opens the door to your bedroom and drops you to the bed after dropping the shoes.

You bounce when you hit the bed causing you to laugh, your head tilted back. Steve’s committing every movement you make to memory, his heart fluttering when your chest bounces with your giggles. He knocks the door shut with a kick as he unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the floor. He crawls over your middle, smiling gently at you. "Gonna thank you for everything you do," his fingertips tickle your arms as he slides the straps off of you, you pull your arms through reaching up to trace his muscles. He lifts you easily and tosses you, your head landing gently on the pillows at the headboard.

He tosses your empty dress to the floor, unbuckling his belt with a heated glare toward your naked body, “My my, you are really something.” He rips the belt off, snapping it through the air, your eyes light up with a dare. “Gonna cherish you,” he crawls towards you, grabbing your wrists and putting them against the wooden poles. “You say I am a god,” he wraps your hands up, “then you honey,” he tugs on your secured wrist and slides down your body, “are my goddess.” He pulls your legs down, extending your arms and restricting your movement.

You moan at the roughness of his love, his praise soaking your thighs. His eyes are staring you down, he’s continuing to slither down the bed. He’s kissing and nibbling on your nipples. Your wrists pull hard when you arch and his hard gaze breaks, “Too tight?” You shake your head, but he slaps the outside of your thigh, “You know better dove.” You stretch out your legs, exposing your soaking cunt to him, “No, sir, it’s not too tight, please.” Steve traces the inside of your thigh, “Don’t worry dovey,” he clicks at you, “tonight’s all about you,” he presses his hands on your thighs, pushing you apart, “I know how good you are,” he slides his tongue on your wet thigh, “just wanna make sure you do.”

He hums as his tongue licks up your folds, collecting some of the juices, “You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever known.” You moan out, bucking your hips towards him, “Captain please, need you to make me feel good.” Steve wastes no time giving you want you want. He slides two fingers into you, drawing a pained gasp from you that quickly turns into a moan. “Oh, baby,” Steve sucks on your clit, licking tight circles before drawing back a little, your hands tugging the best they could, “who’s all this for?”

You’re heaving, Steve’s fingers curling inside of your willing hole, his lips are back on you. When you don’t give him an answer, he stops toying with your clit, causing the heat in you to die down, a whine erupting from you. He licks up your folds, his fingers never slowing, “Tell me, who’s it for.” You spread your fingers out, trying to twist your body but slid another finer in you roughly. You let out a pornographic moan, clenching on his fingers, “You, you Steve, you,” his hand slides back down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles, “always you, love of my life, always my Stevie.” Steve growls, “Cum, now.”

The coil in you snaps, your back arching off the bed as your pussy flutters around his relentless fingers. He removes his hand from your clit, pulling his pants and underwear down roughly, sliding them off and out of the way. You’re coming down from your high when he’s on top of you, fingers pumping hard and fast again. You’re on fire, eyes roaming his body and your arms twitch at the need to touch him.

You’re whining trying to back up, but his thrusts become temporarily rough, shooting pleasurable pain through you, “Don’t run, be a good girl.” You let a choked sob out, your cunt clenching tightly on his fingers. He knows you’re close, your legs tight, and shaking, your whines higher, “You’re beautiful cunt’s desperate isn’t it love?” You tighten at his words, so close to tipping over the edge. When you don’t answer he slows down, causing your eyes to snap open, he pulls your legs up to your chest, “Yes, yes, desperate for you, I’ll do anything, I promise, please!”

Steve removes his fingers from you roughly, grabbing your thighs, pushing them apart to display your cunt and slams himself into you. He’s buried balls deep, twitching against your cunt. He lets you rest a moment as he readjusts, one arm holding both your legs in place, his free right hand finding your clit, “You’re gonna cum like this.” He slams back into you, and as if commanded, you fall apart on him. You let out a silent scream, clenching his cock as hard as you can, your eyes rolling back in the back of your head, clit throbbing as he continues to rub circles.

“Your pussy is suffocating my cock baby,” he leans down to kiss you, swallowing your whines at the painful stretch in the back of your thighs. “Good girl, such a good girl,” your back arches toward him, coming down from your high, thankful that his ministrations on your clit have slowed, “You lost with my cock pounding into you? Are you with me sweet girl?”

You can’t answer, can’t hardly breathe, because he’s started pumping in and out of you with more of his weight pressing into you, taking your breath with almost every thrust. Your eyes are closed, your mouth barely open and it’s clear you’re unable to answer. Steve reaches his hand up, taking it off your clit, and smacks your face, gently but hard enough to snap you back to him. He squeezes your chin, roughly moving your face to the left and then right. “Color?” You take a deep breath, causing him to slowly stop ramming into you. He slides his thumb into your mouth, keeping eye contact with you. Your tongue licks up his thumb, your lips closing around it. He instantly softens, his dominating features fading away, “Come on, tell your Stevie how you’re doin’, what’s your color dovey?”

You release his thumb, smiling at him, “‘S green, Stevie, I jus’ needed a breather.” Steve pouts at you, grabbing your chin and shaking your head with a disappointed look, “Nuh uh. Say it right, pet.” You flutter around his cock, causing him to pulse inside you and let out a deep groan. “Green, sir, please, need your cock, fills me up so good,” you’re begging, arching your back off the bed. He straightens, hands on the back of your thighs bracing himself. He pulls out and rams into you at a brutal pace, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

You moan out, trying to twist away from him, but you can’t hardly move, stuck in his grasp, his huge cock filling you again and again. He knows you’re close, slapping your thigh a couple times, heavy smacks resonating through the room before he reminds you, “Look at me.” You follow his command, your eyes snapping to his. “You’re going to cum again,” he slaps your thigh, “quit trying to run away bunny.” You can’t control yourself, you gush all over his cock when his hand hits your thigh, flutter around him and moaning out, “Thank you sir, never felt so good, thank you.” Steve doesn’t slow down, he grips your thighs roughly and seems like he’s going harder, deeper.

“That’s right, nobody will ever make you feel as good as I do,” you whine loudly at his words, tears leaving the corners of your eyes. He grunts and you feel his rhythm stutter, “God yeah, made for me, isn’t anything better than you in my life,” his hand comes to your clit as he turns your body, bringing your leg over his shoulder. You’re overwhelmed by his love, even though he’s fucking you stupid, you can feel that he’s genuine in his words. This man loves you.

“God Stevie, I’m ruined, consumed by you, don’t want anyone else,” you tug on your restraints again, glancing up with tears in your eyes. He brings his other hand up to your face, letting your leg fall free, “Give me one more baby,” he ruts inside you, heat burning at your core, feeling you clench around him makes him let out a deep moan. He moves his hand to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers and pulling roughly on it. You let out a pained moan, Steve slapping your breast, “Yeah that’s it sweetheart. Gonna be my perfect little girl and take everything I give you.”

You can feel your heartbeat in your pussy, he’s pounding into you but you’re so fucked out and wet it’s easy for him to abuse your cunt. He’s addicted to the way your pussy sucks him back in, his resolve almost breaking and spilling into you. “I’ll take whatever my Captain is willing to give me,” you’re barely able to think about anything else, eyes open just barely enough to see Steve’s head roll back. He lets out a loud and shameless moan, he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing roughly. “Be a good girl, be a good girl, cum, cum right now.”

Your walls throb and he lets go of your throat. Your vision goes white when you take your breath and you’re cumming around him. He sucks in a harsh breath, barely able to move in and out of you because of how frantic you’ve become. “You make it so hard to control myself around you,” he pulls completely out and you watch his cock twitch in the air, red and sore, the thick vein throbbing hard. You whine, but he swallows it when he presses his lips to yours. Reaching his hands up and releasing you from the belt, he bites your bottom lip, “Can you take more baby? What’s your color?” Your pull your hands from his, wrapping them around his neck, “I can’t take anymore, Captain, I can’t.” Steve’s glare is dangerous, his voice controlled by his primal need for you, “I’m gonna give you more, until I’m satisfied or you tap out. What’s your color?” You let a stray tear fall, “Yellow, I need a minute, pretty please, Captain.”

Steve hums in agreement, pressing his lips against yours. He backs just an inch or so away and rests his forehead against yours. Steve guides your legs down and lays you on the bed gently. He’s giving himself as much a break as he is you, he’s not sure that if he slid into your cunt he wouldn’t cum right then and there.

“You know how good your doin’ for me?” His nose nudges yours, “Really made for me,” he kisses your nose, “love making you feel good, am I making you feel good?” You bring your lips to his, initiating the contact this time, “Yes Stevie, I feel so good, ‘s like you set me on fire.”

Your gaze is still far away, barely able to hold your head up. You’re almost cockdrunk, and he’s going to get you all the way there. “Look at me angel,” he’s kneeling in between your legs, watching your every breath. Your head lifts to his, meeting his sly grin. “There she is,” he slides his hands under your thighs gently, lifting your hips for a better angle. “You ready baby?”

Your legs are putty in his hand and he pushes into you slowly, your mouth gapes at the sensation, letting out a small plea, “Oh, Captain, more, more, more.” He speeds up, leaning forward and planting kisses on your neck, whispering against it as he digs his fingers into your hips, “That’s right,” he punctuates with a rough thrust, “good girls beg for more.” He’s lost himself, roughly jerking your hips into him, sucking possessive marks into your neck and collarbone. “Good girls let their Captain decide when they’ve had enough.” Your hands are scratching at his back, a silent please for him to keep going.

“You’re so good to me,” he bites your neck roughly, hips stuttering against yours, his mounds hitting yours just right. “Love me so good,” he’s kissing your jawline, he’s close to coming, and he’s not going to stop this time. He plants a heavy kiss on your lips, “You’re gonna be my wife one day,” your lips find his again, a tear rolling down your cheek, “the mother of my children.” Your hands pull on his hair gently, “Please, cum in me, wanna be a mommy, cum with me.” When you pull on his hair he spills inside of you, pushing you over the edge with him.

Steve sees a piece in you snap, your eyes glaze over, the breath taken from your body. You’re numb, all you can feel is the thump in your chest and the painful stretch of your back, pushed too far past its limit. He’s crushing you with kisses, his hands moving to your hair while he gently thrusts inside you, “Breathe,” his voice calls out to you, “breathe baby.” You take a deep breath in, closing your eyes and finding any part of his skin to touch. You feel so vulnerable, so small, so overwhelmed and overstimulated.

When your high ends, he flips you over so you’re straddling him. You jerk away from him when his softened cock slides back into you, but he just pulls you to his chest, rubbing your back gently. “Good girl, I am so proud of you dove.” Your lip wobbles, shoulders starting to shake. Steve coos at you, “Oh baby, let it out, it’s okay, I’m so proud.” At his words the tears fall freely and your hand clenches around his bicep. “Did that feel so good? Hm? Did your Captain do this to you?” You nuzzle into his neck, hiccuping sobs, Steve’s voice dripping with honey, “Oh my sweet girl,” he starts patting your back, “that’s okay. You can’t think can you? So hard to come back down from your Captain breaking you.” You only let out a silent sob, squeezing his cock with your cunt unintentionally.

“This is what you needed isn’t it? Needed me to make you feel good, needed me to break you and put the pieces back together?” Steve’s rock hard in you again, pressing against your g-spot and slowly rolling his hips. “What’s your color?” You sniffle, Steve waits patiently for you, he’s going to be soft, wants you to have one more. “C-can,” you take a deep breath, “can it be just like this? I love the way you love me.” Steve kisses you softly, his fingers running through your hair, “Of course baby, what’s your color?” You lay your head on his shoulder, “Green, please take care of me.” He finds your clit with his right hand, his left grabbing the back of your neck, clenching to announce his presence, “That’s all I want to do for the rest of my life.”

You let out more tears when he says that, your hands clutching at his waist tightly. Steve’s thumb rubs fast but gentle circles on your clit, your hips involuntarily shaking. “Stevie,” you beg, he kisses your jawline, letting out a questionable hum, “I love you so much, you make me feel so good,” he pushes his hips deeper into you, a sign that he agrees with you. You dig your nails into his sides, indentations would be visible to anyone able to see, cunt letting out another wave of cum around his cock. “I mean it Stevie, you make me feel special,” you clench your eyes when he gets rougher on your clit. “There is nobody on this planet that I will ever want more than you,” you lean up and kiss his lips to seal your words. “I can’t live without you,” you kiss him again, returning the praise he’s given you all night.

Steve can’t control himself, he’s going to cum again, your compliments are tightening his balls, almost bursting. “Would be lost,” you let a loud moan out and move your hands back to his hair, “would be lost forever without you.” Steve starts thrusting harder, barely increasing in speed, still feeling your pussy respond to his treatment. He growls before kissing you, biting at your lips and commanding, “Cum, you can do it, cum for your Stevie.” You do, your lips meeting his and grinding against one another. Your hips are spasming against his hand, desperate for your high to last as long as it can. You feel him shoot his cum inside you for the second time and you flex your walls to milk his cock, his breath heavy as he presses into you.

He rests you back against his chest, a featherlight touch on your back. Both of you are breathing heavy, and your tears are silently falling. You love him so much, words couldn’t describe it. The way he makes you feel absolutely ethereal, like you’re floating amongst the stars. You're lost amount them right now, drifting about. He knows this, it’s why he lets you sit on his cock for as long as you want. The closest you could possibly get to him, laying on his chest, his gentle touch bringing you back down to earth.

After about fifteen minutes, your tears stop. Your mouth is dry, voice hoarse when you speak out, “I love you so much.” Steve kisses your head, “You don’t know the half of it. You’re perfect, there isn’t a damn thing about you that I don’t love.” Heat flushes to your cheeks, hiding your face as best you can, “Even though I cry during sex?” Steve lets out an irritated scoff, “You know how hard it makes me when I make you cry? To know that I’ve made you feel so much that you’re crying? And you’re still begging for me to give you more?” You trace your fingers up Steve’s arm, smiling contently, “I wish you could understand what it’s like.” He pulls you off his cock slowly, lifting you as he suggests, “Maybe you can explain it while we take a bath and clean up?” Your head turns and you kiss his cheek, “Of course. If you’re actually interested.”

He bends with you, holding you tightly with one hand, and you realize you’ve already made it to the bathroom. “I want to know everything about you,” he steps into the tub, bringing both of you into the quickly rising water. “So tell me,” he turns your body so your back is laying on his chest in the oversized tub, “When you fall? Where do you go?”

[aftqrglow]

hi write more dad!bucky headcanons please and thank you

there u go

BELLA I LOVE THIS???? IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG MY LOVE I HOPE YOU LIKE IT <33

pairing: dad!bucky x reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: just a bunch of headcanons about bucky with his children

warnings: babies; mentions of pregnancy; i think that’s it? otherwise, its pure fluff

a/n: i've never written headcanons before dhajdjjss i'm sorry if this sucks. i’ve talked about some of these on here before, but i added them here anyway. 

Let's get this out of the way: Bucky is the best dad ever.

I mean, you thought you always knew he was going to be a great father. He's a literal angel, after all. But when you had your daughter, Marigold, you realized just how amazing he really was.

Bucky took care of everything. From waking his little girl up for school every morning, getting her ready and even making her breakfast. 

He would often let her hook her arms around his metal arm and lift her into the air, the sound of her laughter filling the home you had built with the love of your life.

Bucky used to be insecure about his arm, once. About the scars that littered his shoulder like constellations in the sky, the vibranium shot through with gold. And while you had managed to rid him of most of these inhibitions, he still wore his gloves when he dropped Mari off at school.

That was, until the day Mari dragged him to meet her friends

"Look, guys," she said, with the biggest grin on her face. "My dad has a robot arm. How cool is that?"

Bucky damn near teared up at the look of pride on her face. Because how could his baby girl ever be ashamed of him? Her father was a hero who had saved more lives with that arm than he had taken, even if he forgot that sometimes.

When Mari decided she wanted to be a nail tech, he bought her a full kit just so she could practice.

Of course, she chose her dad to be her model.

Bucky walked around for weeks with his nails painted painted pink, waiting until the nail polish was chipped so bad he had no choice but to ask Mari to take it off and put on a fresh coat.

Seeing your husband with your daughter, you were completely unafraid to tell him that you were pregnant again.

You had never met a man capable of giving as much love to everyone around him as Bucky was, after all.

Bucky was overjoyed when you told him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up into the air and spinning you around, laughing like a child.

And when you found out that you were having twins—there's no way to put into words how delighted he was.

Just as he had when you were pregnant with Mari, Bucky took care of everything.

Only this time, he had Mari to help him.

The two of them repainted the nursery together. One of the walls was left the yellow-splattered orange it had been painted previously—for your Mari's name. One was painted a midnight blue for your daughter, and another a mint green for your son.

Brainstorming names was somewhat of a challenge. Bucky, of course, had two names in mind, but he was unsure of how you would react to them.

That was, until you brought it up yourself.

"I think we should name the boy Steve," you said one night, as he got ready for bed. "And our girl—Rebecca. After your sister."

Bucky froze.

"Are you sure, love? We—I know you had a lot of names in mind, but—"

"They were two of the most important people in your life, Bucky. Of course I'm sure."

The first time Bucky held Steve and Rebecca in his arms, he was shaking. Never in his life had he expected that he would have not one, but three beautiful children.

Three children with your hair and his eyes.

A family he would live and die for.

Mari was the most enchanting older sister. She read to her siblings every night, clambering into the crib and lying in between them, careful and gentle in a way most six-year-olds aren't.

As they got older, little Steve's fascination with his dad's metal arm grew.

He would draw little stars on the vibranium with white dry-erase markers, then rub them off with his thumb.

Steve never failed to boast about how his dad was a superhero to his friends at school—to the point where Bucky was bombarded with little boys asking to touch his metal arm every time he went to pick the kids up from school.

Becca, meanwhile, never let you do her hair. "I like it better when dad does it, Mommy."

And so Bucky did her hair every morning, sleeking those strands back into a silken braid, securing the ends with a black hair-tie that had threads of gold running through it.

"To match Dad's arm," Becca had grinned when she had asked you to buy it for her.

Eventually, Becca decided that if Bucky braided her hair, it was only fair that she braided his too.

It started one morning as Bucky was getting ready for school, when she told him that he was doing her hair all wrong and proceeded to climb up on the bed and put a tiny little braid in her dad's hair.

Of course, Bucky wore it around for the rest of the day.

The braid, coupled with his nails painted pink, thanks to Mari, subjected him to Sam's ceaseless teasing.

He didn't care, though. His heart swelled in his chest every time he glanced down at his nails or his fingers brushed the braid in his hair.

To the point where he grew his hair out again, just so Mari and Becca could braid it.

Of course, Steve decided that he wanted long hair too when he saw his dad skipping haircuts.

In fact, Steve even insisted you braid little sections of his hair like his sisters did for his dad.

It didn't matter to him what the boys at school said about his hair. If it was good enough for Dad, it was good enough for him.

Sam was bewitched by your children too. It was hard to say who was more excited to see the other on the weekends, when choruses of, "Uncle Sammy!" broke through the house every time the doorbell rang.

Spending Sundays at your house became sort of a tradition, as did spending holidays on Sam's boat.

Sarah's sons were enamored with your children. The five of them were inseparable, running around the docks, dodging Sam's neighbors who had now come to know the Barnes family all too well.

Bucky had never really imagined that he would ever know peace like this: with a family that he wasn't going to lose this time.

With friends he was sure wouldn't leave him behind.

He had never allowed himself to hope for it

But as he watched the sunset over the waters, sitting next to Sam with a bottle of beer in his hand, the sound of your laughter mixed with his kids' filling the air around him, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he had done something right with his shot at redemption after all.

Tags:

@goldengoddess @wherearethesantreys @guzaarysh @for-bebbanburg @mriddlemethis @xleiaorgana @xsamsharons @getluciferoutofthecage

if you would like to be added to my taglist, just send me a message or an ask off anon!

[the-iceni-bitch]

Both Ends Burning: Teaser

Vices Assemble: Chapter 5.1/?

Pairing: crime bosses!Stucky x fem reader

Words: ~1.8k

Summary: Steve isn’t too happy with how you handled things while he and Bucky were out of town.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m and f receiving oral, anal play, mmf threesome, mild daddy kink), almost no plot, sub Bucky, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: I’m steadily working on completing this whole chapter, but felt like giving you all a little teaser since this section is pretty standalone. Enjoy!!

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

Steve had been sullen and grumbly for the past 12 hours.

He’d been hesitant to leave you in charge while he and Bucky had to negotiate in Toronto, but Buck was adamant you could handle it, that they trusted you enough to make you number three and share their bed with you, they should be able to trust you to handle operations for a weekend. Plus, Sam was going to be there with you, what was the worst that could happen?

Apparently, you killing one of their capos by throwing him off a roof in front of the rest of them was the worst that could happen. Sam had sounded like he had been holding back laughter when he gave him the call, and Steve hadn’t even given him the chance to explain what had happened before he was almost crushing his phone in his fist.

Bucky was nothing but amused at the whole situation. Steve was such a drama queen, of course he was going to throw a damn tantrum. He muttered mindless endearments at his partner as he ranted on the flight back to New York, rolling his eyes as he listened to the man lament ever bringing you into the fold for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Baby, don’t act like that pussy wouldn’t have sucked you in no matter what.” God, the man was stubborn. You’d already made them a shit ton of money implementing your changes to their distribution network, but Steve needed to be in control.

“No, that’s all you Buck.” Still fuming like an volcano, he was constantly going back and forth between slapping your gorgeous face when he saw you and fucking the shit out of you until you agreed to be reasonable. “I’m not the one who thinks with my dick.”

“Maybe, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have you whipped, though, daddy.” Bucky just laughed when Steve growled at him, leave it to that cocky bastard to start using his pet name against him. You were such a bad influence.

They stopped their conversation when they pulled up to the offices, Steve shrugging uncomfortably when he stepped out of the town car and ignoring Bucky’s eager grin as he tried to come up with a way to get a handle on you.

He thought he might soften once he actually set eyes on you, but when they walked into the office to find you with your feet propped on the desk and sipping some gin while you laughed uproariously at something Sam said just made him angrier.

“Well, hello there boys!” You beamed between the two of them, winking wickedly at Steve before opening your arms to Bucky and letting him kiss you deeply when he crawled into your lap. “Did you miss me?”

“Get the fuck out, Sam.” Steve ran his hand over his face in frustration, glaring at you as you nipped at Bucky’s lips while keeping your eyes fixed on his.

“Sure thing, boss.” The man just shook his head as he stood from his lounging position. “Boss.” He nodded to Bucky. “Boss lady.”

“Bye Sammy!” You purred when Bucky started nuzzling at your throat, giving Steve a mocking pout. “That was awful rude, Stevie. What’s got your panties in a bunch?”

“Seriously?” He just scoffed at you, trying not to lose focus when Bucky ripped your blouse open and popped your tits out of your bra so he could suck on your nipples with a low hum. “The name Gentry mean anything to you?”

“Oh, that.” You bit your bottom lip teasingly, tangling your fingers in Bucky’s hair while he whined against your breast. “That fucker deserved it.”

“I dunno what our most established lieutenant could have possibly done to deserve getting thrown off a fucking building.” He was trying his absolute best to keep from getting hard, but when you spread your legs wide so Buck could slide between them he almost lost it. “Please, enlighten me.”

“He- oh Bucky, baby, fuck.” Your eyelids fluttered when he dragged his tongue over your clothed core, the soft moan that escaped from you making Steve’s cock twitch. “He was stealing from you.”

“What?! Bucky, give it a fucking rest!” His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were creaking, the veins in his neck bulging as he tried to restrain himself from striding forward and ripping his baby boy from between your thighs so he could bury himself in you and fuck out his frustration.

“Nu-uh, you stay right there, baby.” You wrapped your thighs around Bucky’s head and held him close, grinding your hips into his face as he tugged your panties to the side and started dragging his tongue over your pussy in slow stripes. “That dumbass so-called ‘King of Manhattan’ started fudging his sales as soon as you brought in that new shit from Miami. God, Buck, right there.” His lips wrapped around your clit and you arched your back into him. “Trying to poach your established clients too, had to let the other assholes know that wouldn’t be tolerated.”

Steve was furious. Aside from the fact that one of those morons they had let roll over from the previous organization had betrayed, the fact that you had been right about not trusting those idiots was making him see red.

“What about the others?” He was going to murder someone, he didn’t think he’d ever been this angry, all he wanted was to fuck you and Bucky until he couldn’t think anymore.

“I’m auditing the other boroughs now… mmm.” Bucky must’ve found the right spot, because your entire body jolted suddenly while you let out a satisfied hum and almost snapped his neck with your thighs. “Aww, looks like daddy’s mad, why don’t you go help him out, baby?”

Bucky whined when you tilted his chin back with one finger, his eyes blown wide and his cheeks and chin covered in your slick as he turned slowly on his knees to face Steve. The blonde growled from deep in his chest when you stood up and gripped Bucky’s jaw, dragging him forward until you were practically throwing him at Steve’s feet. You bent to give him a sloppy kiss before straightening back up and cupping his cheek gently, using your other hand to undo Steve’s belt while you mouthed at his neck.

“You’re a manipulative bitch, you know that?” He rolled his eyes before turning his head to smash his lips to yours, groaning when you freed his cock and wrapped your fingers around it to slap against Bucky’s cheek.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m so good at my fucking job.” You purred when he sucked a bruise against your jaw, drawing your fist over his length while you guided Bucky’s head so he could suck on his balls. “Just fucking relax, Stevie.”

You gave Bucky a light slap before shoving Steve’s cock in his mouth, smirking at the desperate, muffled keen that escaped from his painfully stretched lips when he started fucking his own face. Steve let out a low moan when you stroked his tongue with yours, one of your hands winding through his hair while the other yanked his trousers the rest of the way down.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?” He gasped when you released him, pressing your lips over the curve of his shoulder while your hand slid down his spine and slowly traced over the upper curve of his ass. “Baby, Jesus.”

“Look at you taking such good care of your daddy, pretty boy.” Bucky whined around Steve’s cock at your praise, blinking up at him with big doe eyes while drool leaked from the corners of his mouth. “To answer your question, Stevie, I’m helping you relax.”

“Unh… fuck.” The way Steve’s voice cracked when you spat on his pretty hole before sliding a finger inside him had your clit throbbing, your chest pressed tight against his back as you kissed the back of his neck and started fucking him with your hand. “Oh god.”

“Close enough.” You could tell he wanted to growl at your cocky retort but then you were stroking his sweet spot and he couldn’t think about anything else.

Between the way you were stretching him open and Bucky was swallowing him whole his knees were starting to feel weak, his back arching when you slipped in a second finger so he could let you catch his lips with yours. Bucky was humming around Steve desperately as he gazed up at the two of you, his cock twitching as he brought a hand up to wind his fingers through Steve’s with a needy little whine.

“Shh, didn’t forget about you, baby.” Steve broke away from you reluctantly so he could look down at Buck, stroking his hair soothing as he started grinding his hips against his face. “Look so fucking pretty on your knees for your daddy. You want me to fill that gorgeous mouth with my cum?”

The pitiful whimper he let out was the only answer Steve needed, his pleasure already so close with the way you were milking him. You practically squeezed him from the inside and he choked on a moan, shoving his hips into Bucky’s face as his cock jerked and thick, warm ribbons of his cum shot against the roof of his mouth. He almost collapsed when you kept fucking him through it, prolonging his pleasure until poor Bucky was almost suffocating from the sheer volume of it.

“Buck? You good, pretty boy?” You were practically holding Steve up when he pulled out of Bucky’s mouth, running your fingers over his chest and beaming at the filthy grin the brunette gave you. “See Stevie? Nice and relaxed. You boys might want to get cleaned up, we’ve got a meeting in an hour. Something about a dead lieutenant.”

Steve couldn’t even muster the will to get angry as he collapsed into the chair behind him, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair when he rested his head on his knee and panted.

“Told ya, daddy.” Ok, now his annoyance was starting to come back. “She’s got you whipped.”

“You fucking brat.” He ignored the low chuckle Bucky gave him, his lips tracing over his thigh before he nuzzled into his hips. “I’m gonna take that sass out on your ass in front of that bitch tonight, just you fucking wait.”

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Green (Bucky x Reader)

Word Count: ~3k

***Warnings*** : Graphic and explicit consensual non-consent. It’s all pre-negotiated roleplay, but it includes fighting, struggling, spitting, scratching, the whole nine yards. 

A/N: The companion fic to Red. You do not need to read that first; this stands on its own. However, without that as an introduction, there’s no obvious indication until about two-thirds into the fic that what’s happening is consensual. 

More on this in another note at the end, but thanks to @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @katwillrise​ @mskathywriteswords​ @cracksinthewalls​ @littlegreenplasticsoldier​ @stunudo​ and the rest of the Slack squad for helping me sort out my feelings about “dark” fic, and for being a safe space to talk through stuff like this. This was really fucking difficult for me to write, but I’m glad I did. 

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

- From “Wild Geese,” by Mary Oliver

It’s just like any other Friday night, until it’s not. 

One moment I’m turning on the light in the entryway, hanging up my coat — next there’s a prickle down my spine, some primal reptile-brain instinct — 

Run! Now! 

— but there’s no time to recognize it for what it is. My body isn’t in the habit of being threatened; my body is tired and lazy, moving on autopilot through the comforting routine of Friday night. In the heartbeat between instinct and action, he pounces. 

The hand over my mouth is metal: unyielding, unliving, chilling me down to my core, and if it wasn’t for the heat of the rest of his body all down my back, I wouldn’t assume he was human. His right arm is around my ribs, locking me in place, and it feels feverish in contrast but it’s trapping me as securely as if it was iron. 

I can’t reconcile the cool metal against the human warmth, or the awful metallic tang mingled with the barely-there whiff of sweat. My mind is moving all jerky and slow. I can’t make sense of this. 

Doesn’t matter, though, because I’m trapped anyway, like a wild animal in a snare. Trying to make sense of it won’t change the fact that vicious iron jaws snapped shut around me. 

It was just like any other Friday night.

Panic clutches around my lungs all at once, adrenaline flooding in, and everything in me screams, fight back. 

I thrash and squirm in his grasp, but he has my arms pinned down at my sides, and I’m small and helpless against the solid wall of muscle that is his chest. My raw strangled gasps come out as tiny hitched sobs, muffled by metal, barely audible in the still half-dark entryway of my apartment. He leans back, hefting me up so that my feet don’t quite touch the floor any more, like I weigh nothing, and takes a few steps away from the door. 

“Don’t make a sound,” he snaps, before spinning me around, slamming me back against the wall and pinning me there with his metal hand at my throat. 

Panic makes everything sharper. It’s too sharp, sharp like the shadows cast by the angles of his jaw and cheekbones, sharp like the way he’s watching me with pale hard eyes. 

“Why — why are you here?” 

He tilts his head, considering me. 

“I was sent,” he says simply, in a low rasp of a voice. 

“What do you want?” 

Something cracks open in his eyes, like a tectonic shift bringing magma to the surface, and then the strangest expression spreads slowly over his features, fierce hunger and wild terror all at once. Fear splinters like lightning down my spine. 

“Take off your clothes,” he says quietly. “Let me see you.” 

I lash out with both hands, ready to claw at his eyes, but with his arm outstretched, he’s just out of my reach; when I scratch and slap at the metal wrist, he doesn’t even seem to notice, and when I strain against his grip, I only succeed in choking myself. Black spots dance across my vision, and I draw ragged wheezing breaths, clutching uselessly at the sleeve of his black leather jacket, still twitching and twisting feebly. 

At least he can’t undress me with one hand, I think, for one absurd second. 

Then his free hand twitches down to his side, and he’s raising a knife. Dark oxidized metal gleams in his fingers. I freeze, staring at the wickedly honed edge of it as he brings it closer, holding it up at eye level before lowering it slowly. 

The tip hooks under the first button of my blouse, and when he flicks the blade upward, the fabric separates like it’s nothing. I barely dare to breathe as he cuts my shirt open, one button at a time, with surgical precision. The knife is so close to my skin that one wrong move could slice into me. 

When the ruined remains of my blouse gape open, he lowers the blade, ready to cut through the waistband of my skirt, and my frayed nerves snap. 

“Don’t,” I blurt out. “I’ll do it. I’ll cooperate.” 

I unzip it, trying to step out of it without moving my head, still trapped by the constant silent threat of his fingers around my throat. 

He sheathes the knife so that he can push my shirt roughly down my arms. My bra straps follow; he tugs them down my shoulders and reaches around to pop the clasp open, and when it falls, he pauses, licking his lips as he gazes up and down my body, taking in the revealed skin. 

There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes when they meet mine for a long, frozen moment. He draws a breath like he’s about to say something, and his grip loosens a fraction. 

I’m not done fighting. 

I spit in his face, and when he flinches, I wrench myself away, twisting out of his grasp, bolting down the hall toward the bedroom door. 

Just as I wonder whether he’s reconsidered, whether he’ll let me go, he snarls, “You’ll regret that.”

I go down hard and fast when he tackles me, barely getting my arms out in time to break my fall, and the impact sends a flash of pain through one elbow but there’s no time to think about that — no time to feel it — not when I’m thrashing and kicking and squirming — but he’s too strong, too heavy — I almost writhe away but then he rolls me onto my back — pins me, sitting on my thighs — and my fists are swinging, flailing uselessly against his face and shoulders, but he doesn’t even seem to notice — and I let out a desperate sob as I realize I’m helpless again. 

I want to scream, but there isn’t enough breath in my lungs. 

He shuffles up on his knees until he’s straddling my waist, looming over me, blocking out everything else, and he snatches my wrists as I beat my fists against his stomach and chest. His lip curls, baring his teeth in a feral approximation of a smile, and he gathers my wrists together so he can hold them in the bruising circle of his metal fingers. 

Flesh fingertips dig cruelly into the hinge of my jaw, forcing it open, and he leans forward to spit into my open mouth — something twists and clenches deep in my gut as I sputter and choke, skin crawling with disgust. 

“Not so nice, is it?” he sneers, sitting back on his heels. 

Worn black denim stretches over muscular thighs as he shifts, drawing attention to the fact that he’s hard — the thick shape of his cock is obvious, straining against the fabric.  

My eyes snap back to his face, but it’s too late. He chuckles, throaty and smug, and then he rubs himself through his jeans, squeezing roughly, making it impossible to ignore his arousal. 

“Is that what you want?” he asks — taunts — and I shake my head frantically, throat too tight to speak. He smirks and drops his hand to my chest, tweaking one nipple hard enough to make me yelp. He shrugs off his jacket, letting it fall, and light catches the dark metal plates of his arm. 

Hot stinging tears well up and roll down my temples, blurring my vision, but not before I see his fingers on the button of his jeans, popping it open. 

“No,” I choke out. “No. Please, please, please —” 

He has to move to shove his jeans down, has to let me go for a moment — a fresh wave of adrenaline surges up with sickening speed, and I scramble back, twist, flop onto my stomach — it’s graceless and uncoordinated but I’m not giving in, not yet. I’m army-crawling out from under the cage of his body and I’m almost free — almost — but before I can get up on my hands and knees he’s yanking my panties down. 

Panic rises to a crescendo. 

I shriek — thin and pathetic even to my own ears — too frantic to even see straight, and then my breath is punched from my lungs as his hand slams down between my shoulderblades and crushes me to the cold hard floor. I curl an arm around my head protectively, burying my face in the crook of my elbow, and I whimper into the dark space it makes, trying to hide from what’s about to happen. 

My body is vibrating with tension like a rubber band about to snap, every muscle clenched so tight it hurts, and when I feel the blistering-hot pressure of his cock between my thighs I almost snap. 

“Struggle all you want,” he growls. “Won’t make a difference.” 

And it doesn’t make a difference. He shoves, and after a split-second of resistance he’s slamming into me with skull-rattling force. He grunts as he grinds in, working himself into me as deep as he can be. 

The weight lifts from my upper back, and I suck in a desperate breath, only to sob it out again as he braces himself on his left hand and tangles the right in my hair. It stings, but somewhere along the line I’ve lost the ability to feel pain as pain; it’s only another sensation, and it’s eclipsed completely by the flint-to-tinder flare as he starts to move. 

I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, but I can’t hold back a moan. 

It’s too much, too fucking much, he’s too big, wrenching me apart, taking up every bit of space inside me and forcing me to accept the intrusion. There’s no rational thought left beyond I can’t take this. 

There’s nothing rational about it, though. 

Something catches and sparks — ignites — and wildfire licks up my spine before bursting out through every inch of me. It’s going to burn me alive, and there’s nothing I can do about it. 

There’s nothing wrong with it, I try to tell myself, but shame slithers through my belly anyway. 

I’ve never been this wet in my entire fucking life. 

I’m breathing fast and panicked, I’m naked and squirming on the gritty floor, and it’s humiliating, and it hurts… but friction is friction, and my traitor of a body is slick and eager even though my rational brain is screaming for it to stop. 

“Stop,” I choke out. “Stop, don’t —” 

“Don’t what? Don’t make you come? Don’t make you admit how much you like this? Not fightin’ back any more, are you?” 

I sob and shudder, squeezing helplessly around him. “Please.” 

“Shit, can feel you gettin’ close — gotta see this,” he says, panting harshly, and then he’s pulling out, grabbing at my shoulder to flip me onto my back. 

He hooks an arm up under my knee to open me up and drives in deep again, and I spasm around him, spine arching so forcefully my head slams back against the floor. He’s wild-eyed and wrecked, but he stops for the space of a jagged-edged inhale, pausing, slack-jawed with shock when I look dazedly up at him. 

“Green,” I breathe, and slap him across the jaw with a crack. 

He moans and surges forward all at once, hips snapping down, and the pleasure-pain coils tighter inside me, ratcheting up to new impossible heights.  

I’m not going to stop fighting — not now, not ever, no matter how good it feels. I hit and scratch and claw, and when my nails catch on his cheek he gasps, rhythm faltering for the first time. 

He’s scorching-hot, steely-hard, every thrust a solid filthy smack against my skin, a vicious stretch pushing me to my limit — and it hurts, it hurts, but the adrenaline makes the pain feel faint and distant, and the pleasure is raw and immediate and building (faster by the second) into something inescapable. 

I can feel it starting to overwhelm me. My muscles are seizing up, but I’m fighting back on pure animal instinct, still. I grab him by the throat with one hand, pull his hair with the other, and his face is the last thing I see before my world dissolves: cheek bleeding from a rough scratch, features contorted, mouth open in a wide red O that’s somehow, unmistakably, a smile. 

Bucky is breathing just as hard as I am, when I swim to the surface again.

 We’re both drawing deep wet gulps of air, gasping on each exhale. I twine my arms around his neck limply, resting one palm between his shoulders so I can measure the rise and fall of his lungs. 

I can’t bring myself to open my eyes, but I feel everything: every little tremor and twitch that goes through him, the slick warm tickle of aftershocks as he starts to go soft inside me. His face is buried against the side of my neck, and his right hand cups my cheek, so very gentle, thumb stroking my temple and wiping away tears. He kisses me softly where my pulse hammers under the skin. 

My heart is racing, beating against my ribs like a wild bird caught in a cage, but my head seems very far away from the mess of my body.

I whimper when he pulls back, but he doesn’t go far, not yet — I can hear the barely-there rasp of fabric as he shifts. 

“Can’t believe you’re still wearing pants,” I mumble, slurring like I’m drunk. 

“Wearing is a generous word,” he says flatly. 

It’s a weak impersonation of his usual deadpan snark, but I let out a cracked giggle, and for a hysterical second I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop giggling. 

Bucky whispers, “Gonna get you up now, okay?”

He slides his hand under my head, cradling the back of my skull, and kisses my sweaty forehead before gathering me in his arms. He sits up carefully, pulling me against his chest and letting me burrow into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. 

Then there’s a disorienting swoop of motion that means he’s standing up. I feel fragile and strange as he walks, like something inside me will break if it’s jostled, but I trust him to keep me safe. He nudges the barely-open bedroom door with his hip, easing us through it, and behind my closed lids the quality of the darkness changes as he steps toward the soft golden glow of my bedside lamp.

“Not going anywhere, just going to put you down for one second,” he warns me. 

The comforter is already pulled back when he settles me on the bed, and he pulls it up around me, wrapping me up. 

“Water,” he says quietly, holding the glass to my lips, and I sip carefully. “Juice? Something sweet?” 

I shake my head. “Not yet.” 

He steps back. I hear the soft thump of his shirt and jeans dropping to the floor, the click of his dog tags as he puts them back on, and then he’s sliding into bed next to me. I shift closer and trace the chain around his neck, touching the familiar imprint of letters in the metal. 

My swollen lids are heavy when I open my eyes, and they sting when I finally look up at him, taking in his puffy parted lips and the red line of dried blood on his cheek where I scratched him. It’s already healing, it’ll be gone within a couple hours, but I brush my finger over it anyway, making an apologetic face. 

“It’s okay,” he says softly. He clears his throat and swallows hard. “I’m the one who — I’m so sorry.” 

I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry about. It was…” 

I don’t know how to finish that sentence; I shrug, helpless, dizzy with the enormity of getting exactly what I wanted — of getting what I never thought I’d be able to ask for, let alone have. 

His lashes are wet, his eyes shining in the low light, and that’s when it really starts to sink in. I shiver, and then I can’t stop shivering, and I curl forward, burying my face in his chest. 

It’s hard to believe that the world is still turning and even harder to believe that he’s still here. 

“God, sweetheart, you were incredible,” he whispers, voice breaking, wrapping me up in his arms and kissing the top of my head. 

Shuddery, convulsive sobs wrack my body, one after another, and I don’t try to hold them back even though they’re so powerful I’m afraid they’ll crack my ribs on the way out. The tears are nothing to be ashamed of. It’s more like they’re physical evidence of shame leaving my body, purging it with each ugly sound wrenched from my throat. 

I never would’ve said it out loud if we hadn’t stumbled into his violent fantasies. There’s nothing wrong with you, I told him, and I sounded so sure, but I still had a hard time believing it about myself. My rational mind knew that it was natural… but it was like knowing that the person who grabbed me tonight was the same man holding me now — it was like knowing he would never hurt me, but feeling my body panic anyway. 

Bucky holds me, crooning nonsense fragments against my hair, until it subsides.  

I sit up enough to look at him, and I’m conscious of how blotchy and swollen my face must be, but I let him brush away my tears. I feel soft and raw inside where I’d been holding all that guilt. Everything is starting to ache. 

“God, we’re a mess,” I say thickly. He lets out a huff of laughter. 

“I love you,” he blurts out. His eyes go a little wide, like that wasn’t what he intended to say. 

“I love you too,” I say, wobbly but warm, and I duck my head again, resting with my ear over his chest to hear his heartbeat. 

His sigh is long and shaky. 

“Yeah, we’re a mess,” he whispers. “Feels good though. Feels human.” 

fin. 

N.B: If you’ve spent any amount of time around my masterlist, you probably will have noticed that one of my favorite subjects is the shame people (especially women) frequently feel about sex in general and their fantasies in particular. I also really love writing enthusiastic consent, and so in a way this is very different from anything I’ve written before. 

I have trouble with the way a lot of fanfiction seems to glorify coercive or under-negotiated dom/sub scenes, and most so-called “dark” fic is triggery for me in its oversimplification of things like rape fantasies; they’re normal and common and natural, but frequently the way they’re written has the same flat, male-gaze approach as a lot of exploitative porn, which I hate. Rape has never been a fantasy for me personally (although it has been an actual life experience) but my #1 fantasy is finding the sort of trust and partnership and support that would make this sort of roleplay emotionally safe. I also just felt compelled to tackle the challenge of writing about something that is often considered so shameful, and writing about it in a way that neither romanticizes or demonizes it. 

So. Yeah. In case you need a reminder: don’t punish your body for what it wants. 

(If you liked this, please reblog or leave a message?) 

[jobean12-blog]

Oreos with a Twist

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 726

Summary: Bucky licks the cream off his Oreos in a very seductive way...

Author’s Note: I had got this amazing ask a while back about Oreos and Bucky eating them like a champ and it just came back to me today! I love Oreos. I love Bucky- he can eat me like he eats and Oreo any day. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all so very much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf​

Warnings: Some fun fluff, flirting, teasing, light dirty talk, light fingering and implied oral (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!)

“How many of those have you eaten?” Sam asks Bucky.

“Hmm?” Bucky responds, clearly engrossed in his Oreos.

“This is number nine,” you state, eyeing Bucky from across the kitchen island.

Bucky raises and brow then looks at Sam. “Nine so far.”

Sam narrows his eyes before walking off in a huff.

“He needs to eat more Oreos,” Bucky jokes, then untwists the top from number ten.

“Are you gonna share?” you ask, leaning over the counter to grab one.

He pushes the container toward you just as he starts licking the cream from his Oreo. You pull one out and twist off the top, running your tongue over the sugary white goodness.

“The cream is my favorite,” he tells you, swirling his tongue around. “Just the right amount of sweet.”

You nod in agreement, your eyes fixed on his mouth as he continues to lick the cream from the chocolate cookie. Once it’s clean he shoves the whole piece in his mouth then takes a long drink of milk.

“Ten,” you deadpan while you continue to work on your first.

“I could lick the cream off these all day,” he simpers, tracing his tongue over his lips.

You can feel the heat creep up to your cheeks and you shove the rest of the Oreo in your mouth.

“One,” he says with a wink.

“Is this a contest?” you ask, grabbing another one.

“Nah, I’m way too far ahead. There’s no way you’ll catch up,” he replies, twisting the top off number eleven.

You get started on number two but you’re quickly distracted by the way Bucky works his tongue over the cookie and through the cream. His eyes never leave yours and you can feel your body starting to tingle all over at the thought of how his tongue would feel between your legs.

“What’s on your mind baby doll?” he asks, obviously noticing that you’re preoccupied.

“Huh?? OH! Um…”

You stumble over your words and once again shove cookie number two in your mouth, chewing while you think of a response.

“These are good,” is all you come up with.

“They are,” he agrees. “But I can definitely think of something better.”

Your eyebrows draw together in thought as you watch Bucky stand from his seat. He rounds the island and stands in front of you, swiping his thumb over the corner of your mouth. He then lifts it to his lips and sucks it clean.

“Had a little spot of cream just there,” he whispers.

Your mouth forms into an ‘O’ shape and your tongue darts out to lick the spot his thumb just touched.

“You only ate eleven,” you murmur, smirking.

“That’s because there is something else I want to eat,” he purrs. “Something sweeter.”

His metal hand lands on your thigh and he gives it a squeeze, sliding it up to your waist while his other hand does the same. He lifts you onto the counter and stands between your spread legs.

Leaning closer he brushes his lips over yours, teasing with just a feather light touch. Your eyes flutter closed and you grab the front of his shirt to hold steady. His hand cradles the back of your neck and he tilts your head slightly, pressing his lips to yours.

You taste the sweet cream and chocolate on his tongue, moaning into his mouth and digging your nails harder into the fabric bunched between your fingers. You can feel his cool metal fingers slide across your neck and over your breasts, slowly moving down until they stop at the waistband of your leggings.

He toys with the material, dipping a finger inside and running it over the lace of your underwear.

“Got anything sweet for me baby girl?”

His fingers sink lower and he brushes them over the wet patch on your underwear, biting his bottom lip in eagerness.

“I can’t wait to taste you,” he whispers, pushing the lace aside and running a finger through your arousal.

He circles your clit then does it again, coating you all over before dragging his fingers out and bringing them up to his lips. His tongue slides over his fingers and he licks them clean, moaning at how good you taste.

“Mmm, I knew it,” he grins, kneeling and tugging your leggings down over your hips. “So much better than Oreos.”  

[avintagekiss24]

day with destiny | b. barnes

→ pairing: aristocrat!bucky barnes x aristocrat!black!reader

→ word count: 3000

→ warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, biting kink

→ challenge: @cockslut-padalecki​ not my ninth

trope: aristocratic society

song prompt: crush by jennifer paige

→ square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ 2021

g5: clothed sex

→ author note: i was finally able to reign myself in with these word counts, lol. i saw this gif of baby faced sebastian and couldn’t help myself. he looks like a little shit, but look at those pink lips… anyway, these are modern!aristocrats. lyrics to crush aren’t obvious (except for one line at the very end), but worked into the dialogue. i have no idea who made the gif, i got it from google. i also have no idea who made this divider, as i also got it from the google.

Blue eyes peer over at you from across the table, the gaze searing into the side of your face. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, but you don’t dare cut your eyes— this game is entirely too fun to give in now. Instead, you take a deep breath, pushing your chest out— your tits— shifting roughly in your seat just to make your flesh jiggle, before you release the air slowly.

Cabinet meetings are never fun. Rich, old white men going on and on about their views for the country— your family of course bringing the only sense of color into the society. Some old man yammers on at the front of the room behind the podium. Heads nod, claps ring out at random intervals, loud here here’s filling your ears as you roll your eyes. You don’t have the least bit of interest in any of it as it stands today, but your blue blood, and rank in the family— poised to take over for your dear old daddy in the coming years— requires your presence.

Bucky Barnes is quite the same. Young, bored, and too damn pretty for his own fucking good. You squeeze your legs together abruptly, the images of the last cabinet meeting playing back in your mind. Hot, sticky breath. Reddened, swollen lips— against your ear, sucking on your skin. The salt that exploded on your tongue as he shoved his thumb into your mouth.

You stand quick, clearing your throat— sending a silent message to the youngest Barnes at the long table. A hand grabs your wrist, stopping you as you start to move towards the back of the room, “Mother?”

“This is important, daughter,” she whispers harsh— a warning.

“And so is my bladder, mother.”

She sighs heavily, but releases the grip around your wrist, “Yours and the Barnes boy, apparently.”

Flicking your eyes quickly, you smirk as he pushes his chair underneath the table and starts towards the large doors at the back of the room, rubbing at his chin with his hand, the sunlight glinting off of the rings adorning his long fingers. You watch him as he moves— so easy, so confident— as he runs his hand through his dark, perfectly clipped hair, the Loubotins on his feet clicking softly.

You only drop your eyes when he slips through the door and out of view, “Ten minutes, mother.”

She knows. She knows that you know she knows, but she just sighs again and lets you saunter off without a second glance. Dress dragging behind you, bottom lip sucked between your teeth, heart and blood starting to race as each step draws you closer to your silver tongued foe, lying in wait for you in a random, deserted hallway.

He’s leaned against the wall, gazing out over the city beneath, hands drawn into his pockets. He’s a sight, but he always is, each little brown hair in place, chin and cheeks so clean shaven that a hair wouldn’t even dare sprout. Body lean in that black military jacket, gold medals and hand stitched ribbons hanging from the pockets.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” you smile soft, crossing your arms over your chest, leaning against the very same wall.

Bucky glances over his shoulder, that shit grin he’s such a proud owner of spreading on his face, “Then stop propositioning me.”

You laugh— it’s gentle and soft, the dissonance of your long relationship easily melting away. He finally turns and takes a few steps towards you, extending his hand, tenderly taking your fingers. Those deep, emotional eyes stay on yours as he lifts your hand, lips brushing— glancing ever so lightly over the backs of your delicate, manicured digits. Then he smiles, slow, sweet, teeth sinking into his blushed bottom lip as he blinks just as slow.

He’s a sight, this Bucky Barnes.

Keenly aware of his family’s teetering reputation, hanging on by a mere thread as of late due to his fathers extra curricular proclivities, you can’t help but take a swipe, “I’m surprised you’re family’s allowed back in the building. It got a little tense last time you all were here.”

“It did, didn’t it?” he answers quickly, placing your hand on his shoulder before he pulls you in close— a long arm wrapping your waist, pinning you to him, “I don’t remember much though, as my face was buried in your cunt for most of the meeting.”

Shivers race the length of your spine. He feels it— revels in it— savors it.

Lively brown eyes bounce back and forth between heavy, brewing blues, “You aren’t afraid that the rest of them will move to vote your family out, Lord Barnes?”

“Not in the slightest,” you’re met with a defiant shrug, “I hate this shit.”

“Oh, how original! An aristocrat that hates the god given privilege bestowed upon him.” You sigh, tilting your head towards the ceiling as he nuzzles into your neck, your hands sliding up and over his shoulders, “You’re predictable, Barnes.”

“You’re one to talk about privilege, My Lady.”

“Am I?” You retort quick, quirking an eyebrow.

A brilliant smile is cast upon you, blue irises like gems, sparkling under the light, “Your blood is the richest in the room— the bluest of blue— and you speak with such animosity of mine as if you haven’t prevailed your entire life because of it.”

“Bested by the color of our skin, which has precluded my lineage of its rightful place for years,” you scoff, leaning into him, “It was not privilege that got us here, Lord Barnes,” you whisper, “It was persistence.”

He chuckles against your skin, the vibrations rattling through your body, right to your bones. Hot velvet slips along the curve of the junction between your shoulder and neck before teeth scrape and then sink— tenderly— right into the meat, making you gasp. Hands grip, fingers dig into his opposite shoulder as he nips and nibbles.

“You’ll lose everything,” you breathe, heavy, languid as his mouth, his tongue, his lips move to your jaw, your chin, “Your family will be ruined.”

“I’ll be okay,” Bucky hums low, a smile on his face, dark eyelashes splashed over his pink tinged cheeks. His long fingers play with your lips, prodding gently as he rests his forehead to yours, “With a face like mine baby,” he whispers, that devilish smile painting his red tinted lips, “I was born to marry rich.”

He pushes his leg between yours, spreading them, pushing the meat of his thigh right against your sex— the thin silk of your panties sticking to the balmy, wet flesh. The tips of his fingers flirting with the inside of your calf before pushing up over your knee, skirting up your own ticklish thigh.

Bucky takes pleasure in the honeyed giggle that bubbles in your chest and slips out of your mouth, knowing not just anyone can coax such a genuine reaction from you. Metal fingers push higher— sweeping softly, back and forth, over the powder pink silk panties, discovering the warm wet spot, a white hot fire filling his eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

You grunt some, leaning in, putting full lips right against his ear, “Absolutely not,” the words whispered.

“You sure?” he squints, drawing your face back in front of his, thumbing at your bottom lip, pulling it open, “There’s something in those eyes.”

“Let’s not over analyze, Lord Barnes,” you tisk, slipping a hand between your bodies, cupping his cock— squeezing his heat— with care of course, “Don’t go too deep with it. It’s just—”

“What?” brisk, curt— the words cut off by a feverish, deep kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth, sweeping against the roof— heavy, hot, rushed, desperate for you as he groans, “What is it?”

You pull at his belt, at the button and zipper, hand and fingers sinking into his open pants, pushing through a rough, dark, tuft of wiry hair. He whirrs, strained and broken, body clenching up as your warm palm wraps around him. Long, slow strokes pull more tiny sounds from him— a skilled muscle memory, what he likes, what he doesn’t, what he needs— taking over.

A sweet kiss, soft and quick, is pressed against his cheek, your lips against his ear once more, “It’s just a little crush, Bucky. Just some little thing that raises my adrenaline when I need a shot.” His cock jumps in your hand, a quick hiss and stunted grunt filling your ears as you lick your lips, “Don’t make too much of it.”

Bucky grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks hard, puckering your lips before he kisses you feverishly again. The cool metal digits grab your neck, a soft pressure constricting the muscles as he pushes you back, back against the window— using his body to crush you to it.

The smack of his lips disconnecting from yours ricochets off the walls, filling the small hallway. He licks your lips, dragging his tongue from your chin right to the tip of your nose as he anchors your leg on his hip. Hot flesh fingers slip up your thigh, pulling your panties to the side, the cool air sending a shock to the wet, delicate flesh of you. He sucks that bottom lip back between his perfect teeth, tilting his head back slightly to peer at you through those long, dark eyelashes.

You mimic him. Tilt your head back on the glass, sink your teeth into your swollen lip, hand still stroking him slow, wetting the pads of your fingers with his silk. His hips rock soft into your palm as you sweep your fingers over his tip before dragging back down his length, gripping him firm. With a quick blink, you’re staring at him— angry, thick, throbbing in your hand. A bead bubbles out, spills right over, a long string hanging from his reddened tip before his cock twitches again— leaving you breathless. Knees almost buckling. Mouth going dry as your lungs struggle to fill.

“Come on, baby,” Bucky purrs, goading you as you push his cock through your folds, rolling your hips, teasing your waiting slit with his tip.

Surprise sweeps through you when frankly, it shouldn’t as you sink down on him. The muscle memory of your hands don’t translate to the muscles of your cunt— his size, how much you have to spread to accommodate him, like a revelation each and every time. Bucky almost never rushes it, and neither do you, like it’s something new every time.

But it isn’t, no no, it’s ancient for the two of you. Connecting like this in long, skinny hallways, cramped closets, old hotel rooms under the mask of darkness. The muffled sounds of your sex as you try and ultimately fail to keep quiet, filling the abandoned spaces— bringing life to them again.

Loneliness often fills your chest if you go too long without it.

Bucky is buried to the hilt in you now— rooted deep in the tightest, hottest space of your body. He takes a minute, pushing his hips, wiggling— adjusting— before he pulls out slow. All the way, cock bouncing as soon as it breaks the threshold. He doesn’t wait long though. Nope. He’s back inside of you within seconds with a slam of his hips, pushing you up the window. Pulling a squeak and a rush of air from you.

Those red lips of his part, his heavy tongue pushing out to slip along his bottom lip as his eyelids drop, covering the blue you’ve come to enjoy. You can’t help but reach out, place your warm palms and fingers on his blushed cheeks, tracing his nose before they prod at his bottom lip, the tips just sinking into that wet mouth. He draws long breaths, exhales them all over your face as he starts to move.

You let the rhythm carry you away. Up into the clouds as your head rolls to the side, hands fall to his chest and around his neck. Tits bounce with each shove, starting to spill over and fall out of the square shaped neckline of your intricate dress. Hair starts to fall out of place, heat rises in your cheeks, desperate little wet noises beseeching him.

Bucky’s a good fuck. Ever the playboy, never thinking twice of an encounter until— well, you, as he so softly put it one night in one of those dark, old hotel rooms while you both dressed. There’s a filth to it. The way he toys with you. Speeding up suddenly— skin slapping, echoing down the hall— and then, without warning or hesitation, slows down. Down to nothing almost. Soft pulses of his hips, just enough to drive you mad. To make you beg him for more.

To make you weak. To keep you coming back.

That’s how he is now. Barely moving, wanting you to squirm. Two big eyes, pupils blown stare up at you. Mouth agape, the smallest little curve on them. He wants you to beg. To tell him just how much— “Bucky,”

“Yes?” he shoves hard, pushing deep, “My Lady?”

“Please,” there it is, the beg— the want, “Please, Bucky.”

So, the filth is back. Yeah, it’s a little dirty how he grips your thigh, hard, nails digging and scratching into the meat of it. How he licks into your mouth and bites your lips before shoving that metal hand into your neckline, palming the delicate mound of flesh beneath. A brown nipple is soon exposed, tight and hard, after a quick tug of his hand yanks your dress down. It disappears again within a flash, right into his mouth, tongue circling.

An arch curves your spine when he sucks, a deep, low, stressed grunt sounding from somewhere deep in your chest. Your lips pucker, forming an o as you breathe heavy, then gasp quick before digging your teeth into your bottom lip and inhaling sharp. An already tight grip on his bicep and left shoulder constricts even more as he really picks up the pace, desperate and feverish his hips, tongue slipping into your cleavage.

There’s nothing but sounds and sensations— the squelch and squeak of his cock stuffing you, your stiletto slipping off the foot that’s hooked around his waist and thudding against the floor. The gold medals pinned to his military jacket bouncing soft against the thick material. His metal fingers tapping against the windows as he holds his weight.

Flashes of heat ripple through your body— muscles tensing and straining, cunt clenching, clamping. Fists balling. Stomach and head twirling as he gives you his best. And God, do you appreciate his effort.

The fuse proves to be short on this crisp winter day. A coil that had no chance of staying intact snaps earlier than you expect, body tightening hard, nearly freezing you in place the second before you start to come. Crying out— no shame, no sense of care if anyone hears— you just let it take over. Let him drive it home, hips snapping against yours, jutting, thrusting, pushing and pulling, sending you higher and higher.

Goosebumps on your skin. Heartbeat in your ears. A white hot flash, nearly blinding— it’s just that good. Metal fingers sink between your legs, playing with your clit, enticing it further as it spasms— wanting to feel every last bit of what your body has to offer.

Bucky hammers away, until he can’t. You’re just too sweet— too warm and wet and inviting. He’s painting your insides white within minutes, hot, quick shots of silk, filling you up, and then spilling back out. His head falls heavy to your chest as the last digs of his hips work themselves out, lips sticking to your damp, exposed skin.

You wrap him up, hands and fingers splaying out on his back, holding him tight and close as he empties and stills. Then, the two of you just breathe. Let the day, the room full of people, your families, your duties, just fade away. It’s just you and Bucky and that cool window against your overly warm skin.

It breaks— the moment. Just as it always does. Your body becomes empty as he tucks back into his pants. No longer pinned to the window, you bend to replace your shoe, pull at your dress. Bucky runs his thick fingers through his dark hair, you picking and smoothing at your own.

Stepping off after a few sobering moments without so much as a look or a smile, you're caught, a tight hand around your wrist, pulling you back. You crash into his chest, crash against his lips in one last, deep, sweeping kiss. One that once he pulls away, your eyes stay closed, lips stay puckered.

“You sure you won’t marry me?”

You know that if he asks one more time, your resolve will fizzle— and you will, “Very sure.”

A lopsided grin covers his mouth as he tilts his head, “Just a pesky little crush, huh?”

“There’s no vision of you and me quite yet, Lord Barnes,” you sigh, turning away and stepping  down the hall, “You just pray that I don’t decide to join the rest of the party and vote you out.”

“Make sure you keep a copy of your vote for me. I’ll want to frame it.”

You throw him a quick glance, “And why would you do something like that?”

“So I can show our children just how mean mommy was to daddy before we got married,” he starts, buttoning up his jacket. He kisses the pads of his fingers and blows on them lightly, sending you a kiss, “I have white picket fences in my eyes.”

Without another word, he spins on his heel and takes off in the opposite direction. A hum vibrates in your throat. The sounds of your heels and his shoes slap against the walls as the two of you walk away from each other.

It doesn’t take a scientist to understand what’s going on, baby.