#neither would bucky
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happy birthday steve rogers you would’ve hated current american politics
#fourth of july#also he would probably not enjoy fireworks#neither would bucky#a lot of soldiers don’t actually#why fireworks??#marvel mcu#mcu#fanfic#mcu fanfiction#steve rogers#merica#rahhhh#eagle noises
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Since it came up recently, link to that therapist on twitter 👆 who was discussing Bucky's terribile therapist in TFATWS and how they should’ve been.
Transcript:
"As a therapist myself I've had a lot of feelings about Bucky's therapist on TFatWS, and have decided I need to rant a little to let it all out. I've worked w/active duty, trauma survivors, and court ordered clients, so here's some therapeutic conjecture on Bucky's therapy:
Aesthetically her office and presentation don't fit for someone who has been through the trauma that he’s been through. A client like this would need something non-threatening and safe- the whole vibe is overly formal and official in an office building, not at all therapeutic.
6 months working together she calls him Mr. Barnes and then James-he has identity issues and is struggling with who he is, so I think that one of the 1st things they would have done is figure out what he is comfortable being called, by whom and what that means for him.
He is still full out lying to her about pretty much everything including PTSD sx—I’m not saying clients never lie if they have good therapists, but if after 6 months he still doesn’t feel like he can be truthful at all then they haven’t built any trust/ solid therapeutic rapport
The pen and notebook thing-that’s clearly a trigger for him, there’s no reason to antagonize him and take notes in session like a punishment, it’s a power play on her part and it only emphasizes his lack of control in being forced into therapy (she should know his hx w/notebooks)
The whole little arm motion she made when she said “they need to make sure you don’t…” – that made so much light of what has happened to him, he probably feels like his arm is only good as a weapon and things like that will not help him accept it as part of his body
The rules, UGH the rules—from how they were talking about them clearly not something he actively created for himself, more like directives that he’s been ordered to adhere to—something fed to him and reinforced, feels like a way to sign off on liability only
THE AMENDS—this is probably my biggest issue. Amends are for people who need to take accountability for their actions and the repercussions of those choices. He had NO choice. He was a victim of horrific crimes against him, and framing it in a way that he needs to make up for
the crimes that others used him for is abhorrent. The lack of trauma informed care as astounding in the way it is being framed that he has to atone for sins that weren’t his. Its clearly reinforcing the idea in his head in ep 2 when he says “HYDRA were my people".
NO, HYDRA were your captors. They were not your people. That type of thinking needs to get deconstructed and challenged. He can dedicate himself to bringing good into the world and righting wrongs that happened WITHOUT taking on the responsibility of those actions.
Her whole attitude and demeanor were condescending and demeaning. I know some people have said “I love how she calls him out on his bullshit!” That’s not what I see happening. I call my clients out on their shit all the time—this was not that.
And I can only do that with clients ONCE we’ve built the type of relationship where it’s going to be therapeutic for them to hear it, and it’s done intentionally and with purpose. She just came off shaming and mean because they don’t seem to have any form of therapeutic rapport.
She said “you have no history, no family”- there is no therapeutic reason for that, and she’s wrong. He most likely has family alive (he used current tense when talking about his sister) and he was close to Shuri and TChalla, his history is vital to understanding him
When she said “Look, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back. You are being pardoned. These are good things. You’re free.”—Yeah this feels really dismissive and like toxic positivity. “I know you’ve been through a lot BUT BE HAPPY!!??”
He certainly doesn’t seem to feel like he’s free (especially having therapy mandated), and you can’t just tell someone they’re free. I felt like she was pretty much just like, “shake it off, look to the future!” which feels really shitty when you’ve experienced excessive trauma.
HELLO breach of confidentiality, just introducing herself to Sam as his therapist and confirming it to Walker and the whole police station, it doesn’t matter if they know he’s in therapy you do not break someone’s privacy like that, he still deserves some control over his tx.
Ordering Sam into a session, NO, he’s not your client and you don’t know him well enough to know if that’s appropriate or if it would be harmful to either, and you haven’t asked your client for his consent to have another person in his session
Forcing a trauma victim who was stripped of his bodily autonomy for 70 years into a physically intimate exercise with a coworker that he’s barely interacted with in the last several months? NOPE, just reinforcing to Bucky she has control over him the way his handlers used to
To me, I think she is more focused on signing off on his psychological eval that he isn't a liability rather than any actual healing or attention to his trauma. This unfortunately isn’t unusual in the military where “mental health treatment” is focused on being mission ready.
They are making sure he’s ready to be an “asset” w/ mandated therapy, which he shouldn’t even be forced to do as part of his pardon because he shouldn’t have needed a pardon at all because he was a victim of horrific war crimes, brainwashing, and dehumanization for 70 years.
I’m just saying, if that was me he would be on my big squishy couch, bright open windows, bowl of Hershey kisses, random fidget toys, and two therapy dogs laying all over him while we work through that trauma and he builds back his identity and finds the calm he wants so badly.
And yes he would probably need someone who would see through his BS, call him out when he needs it, not be overly "touchy feely", but only if he feels safe and there is trust, where he gets to work on what HE wants, not what others think he needs.
Anyway thanks for coming to my TEDTalk, I❤️my work and I think being a therapist on retainer for the Avengers would've been a fucking trip, they all needed a team of mental health professionals at their disposal 24/7 and things would've been so much better🤣
ps. They can be a good therapist and just not be a fit for the client, that happens regularly. We know when to make it part of the conversation and when to refer out. Nothing good is going to come out of a contemptuous therapeutic relationship, mandated or not.
pps. That whole situation and the scene with Zemo was so rough. I can't imagine how much it brought back the violation, humiliation, anger, and helplessness of when he was the WS. I'm just imagining him having a therapist he trusts and being able to process that afterwards 😭😭😭"
#NOTE: THIS IS NOT ME I AM JUST TRANSCRIBING THE TWITTER THREAD#long post#antitfatws#bucky barnes#bucky meta#meta#mcu#mcu meta#dat's me#bucky's recovery meta#medical stuff#bucky's medical stuff#raynor#ref#writing#therapy#tl;dr: bucky is a victim should be in a soft room with therapy dogs and chocolate#also note: this depiction of therapy is NOT a critique because neither the characters nor the narrative calls her out for her crappy therapy#my theory: bucky's nightmares are not memories they are caused by his therapy...#he has to read winter soldier casefiles in order to make the List mandated by the terms of his pardon#(only files could give him the kind of details / intel he is shown as having about eg. yori's son)#he is being forced to cross names off the List (the Rules of his pardon) as monitored by his therapist...#but it's making him worse (giving him nightmares) ...and she knows but dgaf#as usual mcu writers blunder into a 'this would make more sense if the character was actually just hydra' subplot 🙄
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Bucky : Buck! I can't do this stupid math!
Buck: What’s the math problem?
Bucky : Well, we have to add the bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs, and hope we don’t multiply.
#the multiply part is optional btw#neither of them would be exactly against it#clegan#buck x bucky#gale cleven#buck cleven#john egan#mota#masters of the air#mota incorrect quotes
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Bucky Egan - THAT BITCH
youtube
accidentally establishing a tradition of putting my favorite hbo war characters to bea miller music
#sorry i watched this show last weekend and went insane#this is not normal#but neither is he. i would argue.#bucky egan#john egan#masters of the air#mota#clegan
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New Avengers: The Reunion (2009) #1
#this made me think of Bucky and Natasha’s relationship#obviously both of them had the experience of being brainwashed#but Natasha was never frozen like Bucky was- so despite having been born around the same time#she’s actually lived significantly longer than he has#we see them get back together on the basis of their past and the fact that they both remember it#but they don’t quite jump into the relationship#the first time Natasha kisses him in this second chance they’ve gotten is after they’ve been working as partners for a little bit#so they’ve gotten to know each other again as who they are in the modern day#it’s notable to me that Bucky and Natasha’s first relationship happened relatively early on in Bucky’s career as the Winter Soldier#before he’d really been frozen and unfrozen that much#they have this history that is significant but it’s really in a brief window in both of their respective times as controlled soldiers#they didn’t actually experience personally the majority of what each other went through#and when they get back together in the modern neither of them are the same person they were when they first were together#inherently- due to the amount of time that they were separated and all that they experienced in that time#also I don’t think Natasha would ever be dismissive of Bucky’s experience#because of the time that he spent frozen and not actively feeling guilty#the way that Clint is in these panels here#how mature Bucky is here makes me think that off-panel Natasha and Bucky actually had serious direct conversations about this stuff#it is unfortunate to me that we didn't get to see them hashing stuff out on-panel#marvel#clint barton#bucky barnes#my posts#comic panels
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😭😭😭 I relate so much to this feeling. like it's a consuming warmth so pleasant and i just feel the need to look at him and touch him and practically be drown in this feeling. like an arab poem
Romantic Cannibalism (is there any other kind?)- B. Barnes
pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: obvious cannibalism mention but it's very light, reader is a little obsessed with bucky in that normal way that he is with her about: want. prompt "i've never wanted anything as much as i want you."
"Please."
"No."
"Bucky." You twist to catch his eye, hands snaking to sandwich one of his. "Please."
He purses his lips, looks about to indulge—"No."
You wilt, collapsing on his chest. "I want him really badly," you insist gravely, the fine peaks of your voice dulled by his shirt.
He settles a hand at your waist and another right below the nape of your neck, rubbing sympathetically. "I know."
You tilt your chin up to look at him, brows angled high, lips petulant. "You don't."
He laughs, pausing his condolences to press his thumb on the part of your lips, warm fingers indenting the soft of your cheeks, warmth behind your eyes. "A little dramatic." He taps your cupid's bow scornfully.
"You're going to abandon a puppy? A little puppy?"
"It's not going to work on me."
You blink up at him wetly. "Are you sure?"
"Pretty sure."
You slant your eyes, laying your head fully into his palm. Bucky Barnes looks very different in this light. You feel your heart squeeze very, very tightly, something sharp and desperate shooting up your fingertips like curling veins. Your fingers twitch, but you lean in closer. "So not one-hundred percent."
He shakes his head, bumping his nose against yours very much on purpose. "You might be insufferable."
"You wanna know what might make that scale tip to your side?"
"We're not getting another dog."
"This is awful," you bemoan. "You're going to have to drag me out blindfolded. I want him to understand I am wholly against this."
Bucky considers this, eyes dragging on your crossed arms and set shoulders. To your credit, you look distinctly resolute. He shrugs. "Okay."
"What?" You gasp when he bends at the waist, a steady arm holding your legs when he throws you over his shoulder. "No!" You grasp for the little dog too far away, arms outstretched with theatrics. He stares after you, whining softly.
"This is on you," he reminds, squeezing the fat of your thigh as he steps out the door. One of the employees waves goodbye, a phone pressed between their cheek and shoulder.
"I still love you," you admit solemnly, letting your weight drape over him when the sun hits.
"Yeah, me too." Once he's close to the car, he plants you back on the ground. Metaphorically, because he lays you a little atop the car so he can tug at your shirt and fix your hair. You let him prod as he likes, happy to observe the casual search of his eyes. One of your own hands reaches up, particularly selfishly, to smooth his stray hairs back to their places, a curled index remaining because it wants to.
Bucky Barnes very likely might be the love of your life. You are very likely to be the love of his. It's not enough sometimes to know, even to be sure. Sometimes you want his heart wedged right next to yours inside your chest, and you covet it so badly it hurts.
He brushes something off your cheek and sets you down properly, twirling you when he rounds the car to your side, your hand in his. He opens the car door for you, the ache in your chest spilling over, crawling up your throat. And it's awful, truly, how much you want him. It's selfish and ugly and bloody and you never want him to see its extent but at the same time need him to comprehend it.
It borders need, crossing at times like these, where his nails graze your skin at the right angle or he looks at you a certain way. When life shifts in an indescribable way—clearing, blurring, getting worse, getting better.
He helps you into your seat, already reaching for a seatbelt. You feel like a princess, but it's his smile that flips your stomach. "All good?"
"Mhm." Want. Wantwantwantwant.
You'd like to think it's at least somewhat gentle because your love is there, too, mostly kind but always staining. It's a shame it's just that—a comfort. Because it has teeth nonetheless, and it's crawled into your ribs and hidden there, rearing its head each time it feels like it.
He shuts your door and comes in through the driver's side, checking you over once more before starting the car.
Visceral.
"I hope you know," you start, chiding, "that Reginald and Ducky would've loved a sibling."
"Do you see how you didn't mention Alpine or Chicken?" His brows furrow. "It sounds like we own a farm. You realize how the names I pick are the only normal ones?"
"First of all, Reginald is not a normal pet name," you chastise. "Secondly... that was on purpose," you admit. "But it's a pretty good percentage."
"It's the same percentage."
You throw your head back and groan. "Why do you do this to me?"
He glances at you, granting you a view to the amusement he hides in the sweet edges of his eyes. "You know me."
He takes one hand off the wheel and wiggles his fingers in your direction, grazing your thigh with each movement. You take it with a big breath, fiddling with the warm tips of his fingers. He hooks his pinky on your ring finger and doesn't let go for the entire car ride, even as you complain in the mournful way you do between recounts of your day, rubbing hearts on his skin.
He's vile, you think, aching so horribly to have him impossibly more. Dreadful, dreadful man.
You're silent when you arrive at home, the claws of your savage heart making indents on your sternum.
"What are you thinking about?" he asks, little finger pressing gently into the ridges of your knuckles.
"It'll scare you."
"When has that scared me off?" he says, particularly fond.
"That's true," you chime. Awful, awful—"Never."
He raises an eyebrow. Your heart jumps savagely and you feel it grasp at your clavicle, explanation for it impossible. There aren't enough words and there isn't enough discipline.
"I have never wanted anything as badly as I want you," you explain at last, thoughftul. Your attention doesn't stray from him, observing his reaction.
He cocks his head. "You have me."
"I want more," you beseech. "I want everything."
"I'll give it to you if I figure what it is I haven't yet," he offers.
"You're sick," you say fondly, curling around him in a hug. You squeeze as hard as you can and wish you could nestle him in that space where your ribs meet and introduce him to the mountain of want that you have for him. "This is new. It's like I want to eat you."
He laughs. "Sure."
"In a romantic way."
"The way cannibalism usually is."
"Don't make eating people weird."
"Right. Sorry."
You nudge your nose against his pulse and kiss him. "It's never been like this before. It's overwhelming."
"I know," he says, a little ragged. He clears his throat and pulls away. "I know," he repeats ardently, the gentle pinch of his eyelashes letting you know he does. He holds you a little tighter.
A dying star bursts in your chest like a transient goodbye, deafening and palliating. "I don't think that's ever happened before."
"I very sincerely doubt that."
"Do you want to eat me too?" you ask emphatically.
He thinks about it for a second and shrugs. "A little. I mainly just don't want you to leave."
You grin, excited, and pull his face to yours to kiss him. "Me neither. Ever."
"Yeah," he tells you happily.
"I love you," you say. "I love you." He accepts your affection like a cat in sunlight, his own star heavy and lasting.
#i love how much i feel this whenever you write it angie#never has an established relationship fic hit as hard as when you write this#also TJE PUPPY BIT.#the pupppyyyyyy#that would 100% happen because i have no self control when i see a puppy#neither with all the love i have for bucky#aquarius' fic recs#bucky barnes
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Imagine dreaming of going back to your baby boys after days away on a mission. You're so over it, not even really paying close attention to who your fighting anymore, your mind fully focused on getting home. Everyone eventually piled into the jet, utterly exhausted and absolutely ready to get back to the compound.
"I need a nap" Sam groaned, throwing aside his gear and cracking his back while you hummed in agreement, your bloodied knives joining the pile.
"I want to get back to my baby boys"
"Baby boys, you have one son, what you have kids we don't know about?" Tony snorted the others snickered with equal confusion.
"Bucky's a baby" You shrugged as if it was obvious. You had your little Jamie and one baby Bucky. Two baby boys. What was so hard about that.
"I'm sorry, that 6 ft, metal arm, could kill me with his finger tips is a baby to you-
"Baby. Boys" You growled instantly shutting up any other comebacks, scrolling through your phone, smiling at your lock screen. The picture was taken when Jamie was about 4 months old, his gummy smile matching his daddy's toothy grin, both of them giving you puppy eyes to forgive whatever mischief they'd gotten up to that day.
As soon as the Jet touches the ground, you're ready to hop out and get to your babies. It's afternoon and you know they both get very grumpy and sleepy around this time so it would be easy to find them.
"My bubbas" You cooed finding Jamie curled up on his daddy's chest, all wrapped up protectively in his arms, suckling on Bucky's dogtags. Bucky was splayed out on the couch with dancing fruit still playing on the TV, softly snoring with a fluffy blanket half thrown over him. Your son and his father shared the same pink pouty lips when they slept, with the same soft snores. Their lashes danced against their cheeks, neither stirring at your touch when you play with their hair.
"I missed you" You whisper, placing a gentle kiss on each of their foreheads.
Imagine the rest of the team catch a glimpse of a sleepy Bucky with his son curled up with him and the sight just makes sense.
Two baby boys.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes imagine#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#marvel fluff#avengers fluff#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x f!reader#marvel imagine
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run for your life
Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with.
Themes: slight stalker!bucky, possessive!bucky, mild degrading kink, smut, FLUFF, opposite aesthetics, mild daddy kink (nicknames only), cosy little town vibes
a/n: some fluffy mob!bucky to end the year <3 Thank you so much for always supporting my silly little fics. Merry Christmas my darlings, and happy New Year!! See you soon ;)
He didn't know where exactly he would end up locating you, but finding you in a cosy, small, coastal town in the south of France was not on his list.
You being the owner of a gourmet bakery was not on his list either. Bucky was confused, surprised, but mostly confused. How did this happen? At first, when Sam came to deliver him the news of your location that morning, Bucky didn’t believe him. Had Sam not been Bucky’s oldest, most loyal friend Bucky would’ve never believed him at all.
“I’m gonna need you to stop being a dumbass and go find this girl!” Sam, ever the voice of reason yelled at Bucky who had been drowning in his sorrows. “It’s been months, and I can’t keep covering for your ass. I have my own shit to do, my own men to command.” He used that cool, authoritative voice of his. “Pull yourself together, Buck. Go find her.”
Sam was right. Of course he was. He always was. And it had really been months since that damned night…
—
Bucky couldn’t wait to get out of his plane the moment it landed. It was late at night, but the perfect time to go to the club. He had missed it. Well, not the whole club really. Bucky had missed you.
He had a… special connection with you. His girl. His only girl. His favourite girl.
This time, he thought, he would do whatever he can to solidify whatever was happening between the two of you. Maybe he’d even get you to go on a real date with him. Maybe that would lead to something more. He was smiling to himself just thinking about it.
He often thought back to the night you met. He was at the club after a long day of being the dark ruler he was. All he wanted was a drink and a pretty woman on his lap. That’s when he found you.
Right as he walked in, you caught his eye. Walking around serving drinks, wearing a little see-through red dress that brought every man you walked past to his knees.
Once he got to his booth, Bucky called you over. You walked towards him sheepishly.
“I’ve never seen you around here before, beautiful.” He said, patting his thigh. He noticed the way you hesitated. Must be new, he thought.
You carefully perched on his lap, holding your empty metal tray to your chest. Bucky smirked as he looked at it, like you were putting a makeshift barrier between the two of you. When you remained quiet and squirmy, Bucky spoke up again.
“Come on, babygirl. Talk to me, it’s okay.” He whispered at his nuzzled your neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely, then I might.”
His warm breath against your skin tickled. You chuckled as you pulled away to look at him. “Um, I’m just a waitress. I’m not supposed to…” You trailed off. Both of you were aware of the no-contact ‘rule’. But there was a natural, unexplainable spark there that neither of you could ignore.
“Hmm,” His chest rumbled. “How about we go somewhere private?” He whispered into your ear and noticed the way you shivered.
You hung your head, clutching your metal tray. “Waitresses aren’t supposed to go into the VIP rooms, sir.” You said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear you above the sensual music.
Bucky smirked. Then leaned in and whispered, “I suppose I can bend the rules a little given I co-own the club.”
You froze and went to stand up immediately, already apologising but he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you on his lap.
“It’s okay, babygirl. You’re not in trouble, I promise.”
The two of you ended up in one of the VIP rooms. Nothing happened, you just kissed and talked and kissed some more. Bucky promised to come back. And he did. For months. Again and again and each time he did, you were drawn to him like he was gravity from the very moment he walked into the room.
And that night he landed after being away for weeks, he expected you to run right into his arms the moment he’d enter the club like you always did. He even got you a nice little gift to make up for the time that he’d been away. It was a rare, red diamond choker. He could already imagine how it would look around your neck. Like a brand. His.
But then he got to the club. And he noticed everyone was avoiding his eyes almost anxiously. And his girl was nowhere to be seen. He searched for you in the main area for a while, then even searched the VIP rooms, vowing to commit horrible crimes if he ever found you in there with another man.
But no.
He called Sam, who co-owned the club, and Sam had no idea who he was talking about. Bucky asked the staff members, and one bartender finally told him that you’d resigned a few weeks ago. And no one knew where you went. He asked for your full name, but no one knew that either.
Not even Sam. “I didn’t even know we had a new waitress, Buck. I have more important shit to worry about.” He’d said, adding to the burning sensation in Bucky’s chest.
“She left me.”
Sam had no idea what his best friend was babbling about. And during the many months that followed, Bucky was a mess. A mess like Sam had never seen before. Frantically scanning country after country, searching for a girl with no name. He was in love, and he wasn’t giving up. He would find his girl come what may.
—
But now Bucky knew where you were.
And he was more confused than ever. He had even more questions.
Bucky spent a whole week in that little town. Watching you, learning your routine, observing and questioning. He disguised himself as a local and always kept his distance even though his hands itched to touch you.
At first he was bothered by how you were fine with living the same day everyday. Your routine seemed boring at first, but the more he watched, the more he realised it was sort of therapeutic. The normality of it all.
He rented an apartment on the other side of the street from your bakery, and he spent hours watching you.
You lived right above the bakery. A quaint apartment, with flower pots all around the french windows. Sometimes when you forgot to turn the lights off at night, Bucky spent the whole night spying on you, counting your breaths as you slept on your couch in front of the TV.
You’d wake up at the crack of dawn, then you’d feed your dogs. He noticed you had two. Lazy, both of them. Then you’d get downstairs and within half an hour, the cool air that entered his apartment carried the smell of the sea and baked goods.
All he wanted was to cross the cobblestone street and drag you to his bed, demand answers while fucking some sense into you. But the more he watched you, the more his anger diminished. Temporarily.
The genuine smile on your face as you served your loyal customers all day, especially the ones who always came early in the morning on their way to work. The occasional sound of your voice or your laughter that slipped past whenever someone didn’t close the door right. The sound of children squealing and laughing whenever you gave away leftover baked goods or donuts in the evenings. How you knew almost everyone by name. How sometimes you invited neighbours over for wine nights. How you went on little walks in late, cool evenings, forcing your lazy pets to walk but then ending up having to carry them on the way back. They were spoiled, he realised. He hated to admit that he was jealous of the damned dogs who got so much of your attention while he starved for it.
He wasn’t angry by the end of that first week of spying, he was just hurting. How dare you live a whole new life without him? How dare you laugh and seem like you don’t miss him? He’d just spent months looking for you and here you were, just going about your day like you didn’t care? Like none of those nights you’d spent together mattered?
Meanwhile he was shaking just reminiscing the way your touch felt across his skin. He remembered the first time the two of you crossed that line in one of the VIP rooms…
You were wearing that red dress again. Fucking tease, he hissed each time you moved or squirmed on his lap.
“Baby, please,” He groaned. “Just… let me touch you. Daddy will make you feel good, so good babygirl, I promise.” He pleaded, hands caressing your soft, warm thighs.
You shook your head, popping another one of those chocolates he brought you into your mouth and sucking your fingers after. Torturing him.
“We can’t,” You insisted, with nothing but mischief in your eyes as you looked at him. “You made these rules yourself, remember?” You chuckled when he groaned again when you straddled him properly.
“I don’t give a shit about rules.” He hissed, nuzzling your neck. Slowly, he kissed up and down your neck. “I just wanna taste you. That’s it. Just a taste.”
That’s how he found himself on his knees, face in between your thighs. His skilled tongue making you whine and whimper as you tugged on his hair. Bucky hummed in appreciation the more he tasted you.
“Come on daddy’s face, baby…”
That’s it.
Bucky decided he would go see you the next morning. He would drag you back home if he had to, but he wouldn’t spend another day without you. Who did you think you were? No one just tosses him aside like this. He’d remind you who he was and then you’d both go home right away.
—
Bucky woke up to a thunderstorm. Weather around here was unpredictable. He got out of bed and immediately looked outside to find your bakery empty. No customers in sight because of the heavy rain, lightning and thunder. The golden light was on though.
He decided it was time to go have a talk with you. He promised not to lose his temper. He would go in there calmly, talk it out with you. Ask you what the fuck you are doing here, and then he’d take you home.
But that ended up not happening.
Bucky crossed the slippery cobblestone street, walked into your comforting, sweet smelling bakery and froze. He froze right there at the entrance.
As did you. Standing there behind the wooden counter, oven mittens in your hand and apron in another, you stared at Bucky with nothing but pure shock and surprise on your face. A thousand thoughts, mainly questions, crossed your mind.
What is he doing here? How did he find you? Why is he dressed casually like a local, wearing soft colours instead of his usual suits? How long has he been here? What is he doing here?
You let out a little gasp. “Bucky?”
Wrong move, apparently. Because his demeanour changed in a nanosecond. His calm and collected-ness was forgotten instantly. Jaws clenched, with a murderous look in his eyes, he walked closer, more like charged at you, and around the counter before you could even get a word out.
He had you pinned to the nearest wall before you could process it all. Knocking down a framed picture in the process. Towering above you, he looked like he was beyond pissed.
“Bucky, I—,”
“Shut up.” He hissed, voice cold with bitterness and anger. He watched how you shivered when he pinned your wrists to the wall on either side of your head. “Shut the fuck up.”
He leaned closer, chest pressing against yours leaving no space in between. He closed his eyes and sighed for a moment, trying his hardest to see reason but he was angry. So angry he couldn’t think.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He spoke with such a low voice that you trembled against him, causing him to tighten his grip around your wrists, surely bruising them. You didn’t care.
You winced, “I can explain.” Fuck, you’d missed him too. It had been months since you last saw him. He was just as handsome as you remembered. His hair was a little longer now, his beard a little thicker. But he made your heart race just the same. “Please Bucky,” You whispered, “let me explain everything to you.”
“No.” He growled before pressing his mouth to yours, angrily. Like he wanted his kiss to hurt. And it did.
His rough facial hair scratched your skin, his teeth nibbled on and bit your lips. His hands damn near crushed your wrists in his strong grip. And he didn’t give you even the briefest second to breathe. He kissed you just like how he imagined he would do once he found you. Ravenously. Pouring everything he felt into it. Desperation, anger, hurt, obsession. He couldn’t get enough.
“Bucky…” You gasped against his lips when he finally pulled away. Breathing fast, you tried to get a look at him but he just seemed even more angry.
“Turn around,” He mumbled, forcing you to turn around anyway. Fuck, the sight of you in that long, flowy, sundress was doing things to him. He was never this bothered when you used to parade around in your little see-through dresses, but somehow the sight of you in this pink, floral dress was making him act like a caveman.
His movements were rash and angry. He almost tore your dress off of you while he shoved his rough hand in between your legs and touched you where you desperately wanted him to. You whined and trembled against the cool wall when he slid a finger in, fucking you with it while he hissed into your ear.
“I should punish you for what you did to me,” His deep voice made his chest rumble against your back. “I should tie you up and fuck you however I want.”
Your dress was partially off, bunched and only hanging on around your waist. Being so dishevelled made this even dirtier. You were moaning by now, hoping the heavy rain would blur your actions from anyone who walked by the shop. Or god forbid, walk in.
“How dare you think you can just leave me?” He demanded, sliding another finger inside you and making your body come alive.
You were embarrassingly wet at this point, and the sounds your body made as he finger-fucked you were lewd. But you couldn’t get enough.
More, more, more. You mentally chanted.
Bucky wasn’t having the silent treatment, so he smacked your thigh to get your attention. You yelped. Your skin stung as he smacked it again, on the same spot. Harder this time. You cried out even louder as he kept taunting you. “Answer me, you fucking brat!” His lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “Why did you leave me?”
You cried as he kept fucking you with his fingers you even as you came. His fingers sliding in and out with ease now. The sounds you made were wanton. “You… you left first.” You tried to argue. But failed miserably.
He chuckled in that dark and dangerous way of his. “I left for work.” He said, “And I promised you I’d be back.” He reached deeper inside you, curling his fingers just enough to make you mutter incoherent things. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”
“Please, please, please…” You begged. “Please I need to come, Bucky please.”
“Oh?” He chuckled again, slowing down his movements purposely. “No one touched you, huh?” He playfully bit on your exposed shoulder. “You’re so fucking wet it’s dripping down my hand, babygirl.” He boasted. “Is it because no one has touched you these past few months? Hmm?”
“Yes…” You had tears streaming down your face, and you nodded breathlessly. “Please…”
But instead of making you come all over his fingers, Bucky pulled away for a brief moment. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him undoing his trousers. And moments later, he was rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds. You shivered in pleasure.
“I’m gonna teach you what happens to people who think they can run from me, babygirl.” He growled as he pushed his cock into you, making you cry out loud as he stretched you out.
After months of not having him, right now he felt huge inside you. Just like that, memories of nights spent with him came flooding back in. You moaned as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts.
His hand gripped you by the hips, holding you against him as he sped up into you, fucking you like he hated you. Like it was punishment. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and licked, and bit on your skin as he fucked into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls.
“Did you think I’d never find you?” He asked, fucking into you. “I bet you thought you’d gotten rid of me, hmm?”
You’d missed him too. He could tell by the way you were starting to clench around him already. Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how good he felt inside you.
“See, it didn’t have to be like this, baby…” he mumbled angrily against your skin while he fucked you like an animal, “I could be nice and gentle with your body, but you just had to be a fucking brat and leave me with no warning.” He spat, growling in your ear as he pounded into you, your chest slamming into the wall with each thrust. It hurt in the best way.
“You feel so fucking good, baby,” He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly.
The pleasure, the pain, the heat of him… was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Bucky–,” You choked on your words as you came undone, walls clenching around him, and a loud moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. It was almost blinding.
His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He came while biting down hard on your shoulder. So hard that even you cried out, still coming down from your high as you felt him spill deep inside you.
That bite on your shoulder hurt. And like a chain reaction, everything began to hurt. Having him here hurt. Memories of being with him in the city, in the dark rooms of that club hurt. Realising how fast your life changed hurt.
You didn’t realise you were sobbing quietly until you heard Bucky apologising profusely. Suddenly no longer angry. No longer feeling betrayed.
“Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry.” He kissed that sore spot softly, his bite mark on your shoulder repeatedly as he wrapped his arms around you, securing you in the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t know what came over me, babygirl. I’m so sorry, please look at me. Hey, hey,” He pulled away and turned you so you faced him, still with tears in your eyes. “Babygirl, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, wiping your tears away, then kissing your face repeatedly.
You remained like that for a few minutes. Arms wrapped around one another, standing there against that wall while it rained like hell outside. Bucky didn’t stop apologising.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been an animal like this with you, I—,”
You cut him off finally, “Shh, it’s okay.” You pulled away from his warm chest to look up at him. “I needed this.” You said, sniffling as you gently cupped his rough cheek, caressing his face with your thumb. “I needed you like this.”
He just hugged you close again, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry.” He apologised one final time. “I’ll listen, I promise. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”
You smiled faintly at him. “Then I should lock up down here and we can go upstairs. I don’t want to scare my neighbours by risking them finding us like this.” You looked down at your partially torn dress and Bucky’s unbuttoned trousers.
Much to your surprise, Bucky said, “You go ahead, I’ll close and lock up.”
You frowned at him even as you desperately tried to get the top of your sundress to cover your chest. “You wouldn’t know how to…” You trailed off as realisation set in. He was a calculated, smart man. He didn’t just apparate on your doorstep with no planning. “You’ve been watching me.” You stated, raising an eyebrow at him.
Bucky gave you a rare, guilty look.
You sighed and shook your head. “I guess I chose this life by getting involved with you.” You gave him a faint smile. “Alright then, lock it. Leave the key in the little basket by the door.” You started walking towards the stairs, then turned around again and said, “Make sure the windows are properly locked too, because of the rain and stuff.”
“Yes ma’am,” Bucky nodded.
You smirked at him.
With that you took the stairs and Bucky watched you go with a fond smile on his face. No one ever ordered him around. He hated it. But coming from you, he quite liked it.
Bucky chuckled at himself because never in his life had he ever imagined he would one day be closing up a bakery in a small town, all for the woman he’s obsessively in love with. But he didn’t mind it one bit.
After following your instructions and double checking the windows, he made his way upstairs as well. Again, he didn’t know what he expected your place to look like – and all that spying only allowed him glimpses of your apartment – but he never expected your space to look so…
Pink. With occasional gold accents. Pale pink couch, the one you often fell asleep on while watching TV, and fluffy white pillows and rugs to go with. Paintings hanging on even paler pink walls. The kitchen he couldn’t quite see but he assumed it’d have to be all white. Pink dog beds, with fluffy balls of brown fur sleeping on them – wearing pink collars no less.
He couldn’t see your bedroom from the living room given the door was closed but given the pink, fluffy robe and socks you wore he could imagine just how pink it must be.
“It’s so girly.” He commented, as if surprised. Maybe he was a little. After all, he knew you as the seductive goddess he met almost every night at the club. He never realised that it was all just a show, that it was all just a persona at work. In a way, stepping into your space felt so intimate. He liked it.
You chuckled. “Coquette, please.” You corrected as you handed him a glass of red wine while he took a seat beside you. He did look a little out of place in your apartment, a dark and broody man like him. But then again, he was here and that’s all that mattered.
He turned to look at you and couldn’t resist holding your hand and pulling you onto his lap again. “Come here,” He said, “I’ve missed you.”
As you straddled his lap, your robe exposed some of your shoulder and Bucky saw the very noticeable bite mark he left on you. He grimaced when he saw it. He placed his wine glass to the side and traced the bite mark with his thumb carefully.
“I’m sorry, babygirl.” He whispered, leaning in to nuzzle your neck and kiss the bite mark. And breathe in your scent. Fuck, he’d missed it so much. “You smell a little different. Fruitier.”
You giggled when his hair tickled your skin. “I made blueberry compote earlier this morning. Perhaps that’s why.”
You could feel him smiling against your skin. Then he pulled away to look at you. His hands shamelessly slid under your robe, eager to touch your skin. Relishing it this time, not in a feral hurry like he was earlier. He seemed visibly calmer too.
“We used to spend hours like this at the club, remember?” He spoke, and immediately you were overwhelmed with nostalgia.
Hours, days, weeks, months. Some days back then you would wake up in the morning already excited to see Bucky in the evening. And it wasn’t because it was all sexual. So many nights all you two did was drink, laugh and talk about everything. He once told you that apart from Sam, you were his only real friend.
Bucky kissed you, breaking you out of your reverie surely thinking of the past as well. It was a slow, gentle kiss. It was consuming you. His hands caressed your thighs which were still a little sore from earlier. You winced in pain when he massaged the spot where he spanked you.
Bucky pulled away from the kiss, apologising again as he kissed down your chin. “I’m sorry, babygirl.”
You smiled at him after taking a sip of your wine. “Stop pretending as if we were always vanilla or that this is scandalous in any way shape or form.” You chuckled as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, “We both know this was nothing compared to how we used to be.”
Bucky smiled, a little sadly. “I missed you.” He repeated. “Tell me,” He said, “Tell me everything.”
You finished your wine. “What do you want to know?”
“Why did you start working at the club?” He caught the look of sadness that suddenly appeared on your face upon hearing the question.
“I… I had to drop out of uni because my grandparents fell sick.” You explained. “Mom and dad were travelling for work at the time, and I was the only one who could take care of grandma and grandpa. The treatments and all ended up costing a little more than what we had so I needed a job that paid well, I also needed one that would allow me to be flexible with my time so I could take care of my grandparents.”
Bucky nodded, “Hence the club.”
You nodded in confirmation.
“Your parents never intervened? So you could finish your education?” He questioned.
“No.” You said, almost emotionless. “When they found out what I was doing, where I was working to earn the extra money we needed… they kind of disowned me. And vowed to never talk to me again.” You chuckled, humourlessly.
“They don’t deserve you.” Bucky said quickly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close. “You were so brave baby, I wish you would’ve told me all of this.”
You slid your fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp gently. “You were already taking care of me.” You said, “You mended my heart a little each night when I saw you.”
“I wish I could’ve done more.” He kissed along your collarbones, then froze again as if he remembered something. “I almost forgot,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sleek black box. “I got you something.” Then clarified, “Well, I got you this months ago. I would’ve given it to you had you not run away from me.”
You rolled your eyes at him, “I didn’t run from you, I–,”
He cut you off with a finger on your lips. “Tell me about that part in a minute,” He opened the slender black box to reveal the red diamond choker inside. “I had this made for you.” He watched your face intently.
“Bucky…” You hesitantly reached for it, running your fingers over the beauty of it. It was a simple design. Elegant, timeless. Way too expensive. “I can’t take this,” You began protesting, “It’s too much.”
Bucky made a face and said, “Oh shut up.” He was already clasping it around your neck before you could protest any further. “It’s a gift from daddy,” He whispered against the corner of your lips. “You deserve it, babygirl.”
When he pulled away to look at you, his heart almost broke again at the sight of the tears in your eyes.
“What is it?” He asked, wiping your tears away for the second time today. “Is it that ugly?”
You laughed through the tears. “No, it’s the prettiest thing I own.” You sniffled. “The only piece of real jewellery in fact.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Remind me to get you a whole collection.” Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you deeply.
Then it turned into something more and by the time the afternoon rolled around, the two of you had lost count how many times you’d made love on your pink couch. Slow touches and cuddles, and soft kisses always resulted in the two of you fucking again.
—
In the late afternoon, while snacking on random things Bucky realised you still hadn’t explained how you ended up here.
“Grandma and grandpa’s bakery.” You explained, watching the rain pour outside. “They left it to me. They died within weeks of each other,” You said with a melancholic smile on your face, “I always knew that would happen. They loved each other too much to live without one another for too long.”
You turned to look at Bucky who pulled you onto his lap again and held you as tightly as possible. You weren’t crying this time, but being held felt nice.
You continued, “I had funerals to plan, I had to pack up my life and move all the way here, I had to take on the responsibility of the bakery and renovate this apartment. And you were already gone at the time so…” You sighed. “I didn’t know if I should leave a note or not. I didn’t know if you were actually coming back or–,”
“I would never abandon you. I thought you knew that.” Bucky said, a little annoyed at that. “I made you a promise, did you not–,”
You couldn’t help but argue, “Yeah well, I didn’t know if what we had was real enough for you to come back to.”
Bucky frowned. “Baby…”
You gave him a small smile, and pressed your forehead against his, rubbing your noses together. “I know now. It is.”
When you finally pulled away from his addicting embrace you said, “I’m gonna get started on dinner. You can shower in there,” You pointed at your bedroom door as you got up from the couch. Bucky tried to grab you again but you pulled away laughing. “The weather is clearing up, we can have dinner outside on the patio.”
You threw him a wink and made your way into the kitchen.
Bucky finally got up and walked into your bedroom. Just as he imagined, the place was all white, gold, and pink. He actually laughed when he walked into the bathroom and found it pale pink as well. He’d grown to love it too by now.
–
You were busy at the stove, making your best seafood pasta, when you felt strong arms wrapping around you from behind.
“How’d you like my bedroom?” You asked, smirking already as you pictured him in your very girly space.
“It’s very pink. The bed looks comfy,” He whispered into your ear, “I’m gonna fuck you in it later.”
You chuckled and passed him another glass of wine. As you turned to face him again, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. There he was, one of the scariest men you knew, standing in your grandma-core kitchen, wearing a fluffy white robe with pink clouds on it.
Bucky rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t comment on it. I can already hear Sam laughing his ass off and he’s not even here.”
You laughed even harder before you kissed his cheek. “It suits you.” You said. Then you handed him a couple of plates and pointed at the patio which could be seen from the kitchen window, “Can you set the table?”
He finished his wine and then mumbled on his way out like a grumpy old man, “First close the bakery, now set the table,” He shouted from outside, “You know, if this whole thing was your elaborate plan to hire me as your domestic helper, you could’ve just asked, babygirl.”
You laughed at him from inside the kitchen. You shook your head as you watched him. Wearing your fluffy robe, setting the small table on your patio. The view of the ocean from that patio was to die for, and the setting sun was just sublime. The golden lights you’d hung above the cute little dining area added to the cosy atmosphere. Now with the weather a lot nicer than it was hours ago, you could hear the small town coming alive again. Voice and laughter, children cycling down the cobblestone.
And Bucky. Bucky was here too. Winking at you from the patio. And you thought your life had ended when your parents disowned you. You scoffed at the thought. Then you thanked whatever god was listening for bringing Bucky back to you.
—
During dinner, Bucky filled you in on what he was up to while you were gone. And you did the same. One bottle of wine turned into two, then you and Bucky laughed at random things while you did the dishes.
Then you found yourselves in your bed. And like he promised, Bucky made love to you there as well.
His muscular body hovered above yours. He looked down at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes as you undid the ridiculous robe to let his cock out. He was hard already.
“Think I like you a lot in this robe.” You teased.
Bucky laughed before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he parted your legs and slid into you.
You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly. He was nice and snug inside you, stretching you out in a way that had you whining and whimpering under him in no time.
Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head on your pink covers as he sped up into you. Your eyes rolled back once he started moving in and out of you. Taking his sweet time, loving the way his warm skin rubbed against yours.
He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly. “I love you.” He breathed against your mouth. “So fucking much.” He kissed along your skin and moaned into your ear as he sped up. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”
“Oh Buck,” You smiled up at him, “I love you.”
“You’re mine.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you as he made you come again.
“And you’re mine.”
—
You woke up some time in the middle of the night, thirsty after all that wine from earlier. But the moment you sat up to get out of bed, Bucky woke up too. Asking in his groggy voice, which you had never heard before but concluded that it was kind of hot, “Where are you going? What is it?”
You smiled and kissed his forehead while getting out of bed, “Just thirsty. I’ll be right back.”
Bucky got up after you, getting out of bed as well. “I’m coming too.” He said, “I worry this girly room might engulf me if you leave me here alone.” He joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he followed you out and into the kitchen.
Truth is, he didn’t want to be apart from you for even a second.
You handed him a glass of cold water while you put some water to boil to make tea. Some green tea should put the two of you right back to sleep, you thought.
So there you were in your cosy kitchen, wrapped in a soft blanket. Bucky leaned against the counter watching you. He was shirtless, just in some white, cotton pyjama pants that you lent him. They didn’t fit him at all but something about him in your clothes made him seem adorable.
You were both quiet. But you could feel Bucky thinking. He looked like he was trying to find the right way to ask you something. You didn’t know what. But he had that little frown on his forehead. You wanted to kiss it away.
“What is it?” You asked.
Bucky avoided your eyes, choosing to stare at the floor instead as he asked, “Do you think… I mean, would you ever come back home?”
Ah. The few moments of silence which followed were heavy. You didn’t like how that question put some kind of metaphorical distance between the two of you.
So you took a few steps and leaned into him. You placed your hands on his muscular, toned chest and said, “This is home, for me.” You gave him the truth. “That city was never home now that I think about it.” You smiled faintly, “The only good part was you.”
Bucky nodded. “So,” He began, then stopped to clear his throat and spoke again, “You won’t ever leave this place?”
You slid your hands up across his skin, feeling the warm, strong muscles underneath your palm. You traced his collar bones, then his neck and finally cupped his face in your hands. He wrapped his arms loosely around your middle.
“I love it here, Bucky.” You stated. “It’s quiet, and peaceful. It looks boring at first but it’s what I’ve always wanted.” You said. “Plus my grandparents left me this, it’s all I have of them.” You paused for a while, hating that look of hurt in his ocean blue eyes. “I won’t leave. This is my home now.”
Bucky was quiet. Even his breathing was slow.
You let go of him, took a step back and said, “Maybe you should head back.” It felt like the words sliced you from the inside. It hurt to even utter them. “You have a life there.” You gave him a sad smile. Followed by a faint chuckle. “Unless you want to take up fishing then I’m afraid there’s nothing for you here.”
He scoffed. “There’s you.” He said as if that was more than enough.
“Bucky.” You warned.
He shook his head, then reached for his phone which he’d forgotten in the kitchen earlier tonight. “Sam will probably fly out here to beat me up when I tell him.” He spoke, none of what he said made sense to you though.
“What are you–,”
“And he’ll have to work twice as much. But he’ll do great, I know. He’s Sam after all, strongest man I know.” Bucky carried on, ignoring your questions as he typed away on his phone. “I’ll do as much as I can from here, maybe fly back to the city once or twice a year to show my face.”
“Bucky,” You warned again, “What are you talking—,”
Bucky continued, cutting you off each time you tried to get a word in. “I’ll have to call my people, actually I have a lot of phone calls to make if–,”
You cut him off this time, stepping closer to him again and grabbing him by his broad shoulders. “What are you talking about?”
Bucky gave you a lovesick smile. “Well if you’re not going back to the city, neither am I.” He answered. You froze. He continued. “I’ll have to buy us a bigger home somewhere around here. We’ll keep the apartment and bakery of course, but maybe we could use some staff to help with maintenance and to keep the bakery running.”
He made a mental, makeshift plan while you had silent tears streaming down your face.
He continued, “We’ll get you back in uni, whichever one you want and whichever offers distance learning because there’s no way I’m letting you live on some campus away from me.” He paused, then said, “I’ll have to actually take up fishing. Maybe I’ll buy a few boats, you know I always wanted to be a yacht broker.” He sounded almost… hopeful. “Retirement sounds nice.”
You sniffled. “Buck…”
Bucky kept talking while he gently caressed your back. “I’ll have to learn French,” He groaned, “At this grown age.” He added. “I’ll have to know what's a chocolate croissant and what’s a pain au chocolat if I want to occasionally help out with the bakery. I can’t be uncultured while my wife is this connoisseur, you know? The locals will laugh at me.”
“Wife?” You questioned through tears and a faint, barely there smile.
He rolled his eyes. “Baby, I’m wearing your clothes, sleeping in your girly room, eating off of your floral plates.” He explained, “If you don’t marry me, I will lose my reputation.” He joked.
You laughed, and sobbed as you threw your arms around him, hugging him as tightly as you could.
“You don’t have to do this.” You spoke through tears. Your heart felt so full, you didn’t know how to handle a man like Bucky changing the course of his life for you. All for you.
Bucky hugged you back, kissing the top of your head. “I want to.” He said, “I have to. Otherwise you’ll run away again.” He teased.
You laughed quietly. “I won’t.” You said firmly.
“Good,” He sighed, squeezing you tightly in his arms before letting go. “Now I have to tell Sam.” He looked genuinely worried.
You giggled, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Tell him in the morning.” You whispered, your hands already trailing down to the waistband of the pyjama pants.
Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss you, deeply. “Okay baby,” He whispered, forgetting everything else as he got lost in you all over again.
He made love to you right there in the kitchen, sliding in between your legs as you sat on the edge of the counter. Slow and gentle. Kissing you softly, making a mess of you as he made you come over and over and over again. Whispering against your heated skin, your wet, open mouth, “You’re mine…”
“All yours,” You answered, holding him tightly. Your nails scratching down his back, your skin burning in all the best ways as his beard scratched it each time he kissed you.
This time, he made you a different promise.
“If you chose to run again, you better run for your life and pray I never find you, babygirl…” He whispered into your ear as he slid inside you again. His cock made it hard for you to focus on anything else but you tried your hardest to hear him out. “Because I won’t be this kind if I ever have to hunt for you again.”
You laughed, but ended up moaning as he bit down on your other shoulder this time. Marking you as his again.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader
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My Sweet Valentine - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
Summary: Delayed in planning Valentine's Day, you and Wanda try to do something together. The spider routine ends up getting in the way, but that doesn't mean the date was lost.
Warnings: (+18) bottom!wanda, enchanted strap, creampie, fingering, dry humping, very fluff and domestic, established relationship, both r and w are briefly specified to be introverted. | Words: 3.206k
A/N-> I had this idea while I was rewatching Sound!Euphonium, I didn't catch the relation to it but I ended up writing this on my phone again so forgive me if there are spelling mistakes. It's always great writing Spider!Reader, I hope you enjoy it.
General Masterlist | AO3 |
-&-
To plan Valentine's Day with your girlfriend should be an easy thing.
But for two Avengers who happen to be the most introverted antisocial people on earth - and those were Natasha's Romanoff words, not yours - the task could be really hard.
But it was you and Wanda's first Valentine's Day as a couple and you were really late on schedule.
While Natasha planned to have the most incredible and romantic trip to Greece with Maria and Tony and Pepper made reservations at some exclusive fancy Italian restaurant, you and Wanda were side to side laying on your apartment carpet. Trying to decide what you could do together by reading some flyers that were spread around the floor.
Wanda had one of the fancy restaurants in her hands when she suggested: “How about dinner?”
You gaze at the restaurant propaganda, recognizing the name and the building from your little web-swinging adventures.
“The Geller’s is nice but it will be really crowded during Valentine's. And we both hate when places are too full.” You reason, receiving an agreement sound. “Maybe we can ask for takeout?”
Wanda chuckles. “On Valentine's Day? Every place will mess up our orders, I'm sure of it. Places are normally understaffed, ordering food on holidays is like asking for them to mess up your food.”
You sigh deeply. “Yeah, you're totally right. So, maybe I can cook?”
She smiles. “We are going for food poisoning then, huh?” She teases making you chuckle with an expression of false offense. You playfully bumped your shoulder on hers but you don't move away after. The touch is warm and nice. “You cook then.”
“Yeah, but is not like we would find any free spots anywhere. We delay this way too much.” She mutters without sounding really upset. Her words were true, you both have been dancing around this date for almost three months now ever since Tony showed everyone his and Pepper's reservations. But neither of you was that anxious to be locked with another hundred couples in some loud restaurant with extra expensive and not-that-good food.
The restaurants were not the only thing discarded - Yelena and Kate's idea of a date, and band concerts were also politely declined. Mostly because neither you nor Wanda felt like facing a whole weekend of poor public hygiene and the crazy routine of musical festivals while babysitting Natasha's little sister who would definitely get really drunk with her girlfriend.
Steve was the one who suggested the most quiet and family thing, a road trip to the countryside. But since he was going with Bucky and you and Wanda didn't wish to be traumatized by their physical display of affection, their invitation was also declined.
Back on the floor of your apartment, you helped Wanda with the papers around the floor.
You were worried she would be upset about the lack of plans - even Sam with his eternal bachelor status was having a date night with some old colleague from the army. You worried that Wanda might think you're not excited to spend time with her when it is pretty much the opposite of it.
“You know, we don't really have to do anything just because everyone is doing.” You start, hands ready to catch the papers she's bringing. “We could just watch a movie.”
Wanda smiles, the papers are put in your hands but she doesn't move hers away.
“If you brought wine it would be like any other date night.”
“That's not a bad thing, right?” You retort immediately, eyes anxious towards hers. She frowns, a confused chuckle escaping her.
“No, I mean… you think that too right?”
You shrug; “I just want to spend Valentine's and any other day with you, Wands. What we are doing doesn't matter much.”
She smiles, coming closer to kiss you on the lips. But the kiss is quicker than you wished. One of her hands caresses your cheek as she speaks:
“Good to know, darling, 'cause I'll be watching you do the dishes tonight.”
You chuckle, rolling her eyes at her teasing but pouting when she escapes your attempt at a second kiss.
-&-
Valentine's Day is unfortunately a busy day for the spider.
It was true that you and Wanda didn't plan anything big but you wanted to bring her some flowers and her favorite chocolate but after fighting another dressed-up lunatic at the city hall and avoiding three different catastrophes, anything inside your backpack was definitely destroyed.
You swing back into your apartment with the mess of your gifts dripping to the floor. The wine bottle broke and soaked the chocolate and the poor flowers. Bye-bye to any college homework you forgot there.
Throwing the item at the sink, your body towards the couch was the second thing you threw.
And against the soft pillows the day tiredness caught up at you. With the thought that you would rest your eyes for five minutes, you woke up hours later with the door locked.
Wanda's angry arrival was also an efficient clock.
“God, what is wrong with you? I've been calling you all day!” She slammed the door behind her, and the next second the day's newspaper was thrown at you. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? We have talked about this! You can't just fight some three-sized villain and vanish without a word! I thought-” But she stops herself, taking a deep breath when her voice cracks. You feel so terrible sorry. You know very well that Wanda has lost enough people for the whole ghosting thing to be too hard on her. Intentional or not.
You get up. “Hey, I'm so sorry Wands, my phone broke and I came right here and closed my eyes for like two seconds. I'm sorry.” But Wanda shook her head, covering her eyes for a moment. She was not even that mad at you, it was clearly an accident that you forgot to call. But she has been so nervous all day worried about you that she needed a minute. Suddenly, she catches a glimpse of the wine-soaked flowers at the kitchen counter and frowns. “What is that?”
The slight indignation about the mess of an apartment you both worked hard to keep clean vanished the second she realized those were gifts.
You fixed your hair awkwardly. “Hm, I was trying to make a romantic gesture. But I forgot I'm always on some freak radar.”
Wanda's hands reached for the flowers and as gentle as her touch, her magic flowed from her fingers to take all the wine away. In no time, the petals were as beautiful and healthy as when you brought it.
“This is really not fair, darling.” She starts, moving to check the rest of the gifts. “You made it to the front page and I have every right to be mad you didn't call through the suit to let me know you're alive.” You wanted to mutter that you're still getting used to the new suit and its high-tech functions, but Wanda is turning at you again with crossed arms.
“It’s not fair, how hard you're making to stay mad at you.”
You gave her a lopsided smile. “So, you like the chocolate that much, huh?”
She rolled her eyes, trying to contain her smile. “Why don't you go shower while I make dinner? There's grease from Rino's suit all over your face.”
You click with your tongue, swinging a little. “Let me guess, you not joining me at the shower is my punishment for not calling through the suit?”
She finally let that smile escape. “Clever girl.”
You chuckle to yourself before nodding and heading to the bathroom.
-&-
Forgotten dinner plates at the living room table when Wanda reached the chocolate box. She shared them with you during the sitcom marathon you too were doing but after finding yourself hypnotized by her laugh for the fourth time in a row, you gave up eating at all.
The last chocolate was put away when she caught you staring.
“What?”
“What what?” You retort with a chuckle, having some pride over the soft blush of her cheeks.
“You were staring.” She says then, drifting her gaze from the TV to you with some resistance. You know her enough that it's because Wanda is terrible at hiding her own shyness under your loving glance. She always was.
“Can you blame me?” Your teasing just makes her blush more. You just decide to make it worse. “You're simply too charming not to be looked at. So gorgeous, so pretty. I feel so lucky.”
“Stop it.” She giggles with rosy cheeks at your praise. But despite her words, she opens her arms as an invitation for you to come closer. You practically jump from your spot - a few centimeters from her since your last trip to the kitchen to grab sodas - and greet the warmth of her embrace.
Wanda hugs your body while you melt into her, the soft caress on your spine being more than enough to bring back your interrupted slumber that evening. But somehow you manage to stay wide awake, perhaps because the way you press your face into her boobs makes her giggle and playfully tug at your hair, which happens to have a completely different effect on you.
Her body tenses up a little when your lips start sucking at her collarbone, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. You suddenly recall that it has been some time, a week maybe two since you had enough free time to be this close.
Your lovely girlfriend probably missed you as much as you missed her.
The soft sucking turns into something more determined, then into a bite and a licking that turns Wanda into a panting mess. She grows restless under you, fingers tugging at your hair with some guidance towards your movements in her neck until finally, your mouth meets her again.
Hot open-mouthed kisses before softer ones. You kiss and she kisses you back until all of your clothes are disheveled around your bodies and she looks up at you with pleading eyes and slightly open lips. Begging for more.
“Wanna take this to the bedroom?” You suggest inches from her lips but she shakes her head, fingers dancing under your shirt.
“You can have me right here.” She whispers back, stealing all your coherent thoughts for a second.
Your hands are shaking a bit with eagerness when you pull at your clothes, with Wanda's help they are off in no time. Her chest heaves when you take her top off and Wanda stares back while you can't seem to be able to look away from her tits.
“You good there?” She teases you breathlessly when your lack of action lingers. You chuckle, hands at her sides.
“Yeah, just give me a minute.” You retort managing an affectionate roll of eyes from her.
“You're such a dork.” She giggles but purposely lifts her chest in your direction, making you swallow hard. When you don't take the bait immediately, she sighs. “I would love for you to more than stare, detka.”
You groan, hovering over her. “Well, your wish is my command, madam” You reply, leaning down to capture her lips. Teasing Wanda with soft bites on her lower lip every time you break the kiss before starting another turns her into a needy mess under you. She gets impatient very quickly and brings her hands to your cheeks, pulling you down with determination. Her tongue takes the lead in a heated kiss that takes all the air out of your lungs.
Panting against her mouth while trying to match the intensity of her demand, you let your hands grope around her body towards her chest, effectively taking the lead again when you start playing with her hardened nipples and Wanda loses her ability to kiss you back.
When she whimpers into your mouth, her hips restless while your fingers pinch her cute tits, you chuckle. “Ah, is there something you want, baby?”
She struggles to speak firmly. "I need you to stop teasing and fuck me." You grunt at her answer. You would have obeyed immediately if you hadn't been able to feel Wanda shaking. She gasps as you adjust, your knee finding her middle and giving her something to grind against as you resume your actions on her breasts. She throws her head back, biting her lip hard as her hips move almost of their own accord.
It's a hot mess, her first orgasm of the night. You didn't even have to take off all her clothes. When Wanda shivers terribly, and you feel the wetness against your knee, you bite down at her tit and that makes her let out a muffled scream.
Wanda is panting and her face is very flushed when you look at her again, her expression satisfied after an intense orgasm.
You hum happily, moving your hands down as you tilt your face to kiss her on the lips. She gasps into your mouth when she feels your fingers draw a path through her ruined panties.
"You made such a mess, sweetheart." You whisper between one kiss and another, two digits pushing gently without even removing her underwear. Wanda arches toward you, squeezing your shoulders for something to hold on to. Her green eyes are completely dilated now and you love how they display a vulnerable begging. Pulling your fingers out again, you let your thumb draw circles on her covered clit and enjoy the way her thighs tremble around you. "Tell me what you want, Wanda."
She has a little difficulty responding while feeling you teasing her, but despite noticing her heartbeat against your fingertips, you don't interrupt your movements. If anything, they become even more determined. Wanda pants, hips trying to match the rhythm of your fingers.
"C-can we use the strap tonight?" She manages out of breath. "I like feeling you come inside me."
Your witch girlfriend's favorite toy is somewhere in the room, and given the busy schedule of two superheroes, it wasn't used as often as you would like. Wanda has barely suggested, and you're already nodding, panting aroused just imagining yourself stretching Wanda again.
But suddenly your fingers push the fabric out of the way, and you sink inside her without warning, ripping a moan from her throat.
"Give me one more first." You demand, watching as Wanda nods in near desperation, brow furrowed at her rapidly building orgasm. Your rhythm is brutal, and she squeezes and squeezes until you can barely push your fingers inside her. You bring your free hand to one of her thighs, forcing her open as you adjust to improve your reach. Wanda sees stars. She lets go of your shoulders to grab the cushions and ends up destroying half of them with magical expelling when she finally falls over the edge.
An impressed chuckle escapes you at the scene. You're usually the one responsible for destroying things with your spider strength - It's always nice to see Wanda lose some of the control she's fought so hard to have.
Kissing her softly, you feel her smile in some exhaustion. She needs a few seconds, so you pull out your fingers and suck them clean while green eyes watch you from below. Wanda wants to kiss you again, but you adjust to carry her on your lap, and after two orgasms in a row, she won't contradict you.
She feels the soft blankets against her back a moment later and relaxes fully into the bed as you move around the room working to find and put on the strap. It doesn't take more than two minutes, yet Wanda sighs impatiently before letting her hands roam her own body, pinching her breasts and teasing downwards. She bites her lip at the soaked state she finds herself in, tentatively collecting some of that moisture before hearing a husky laugh that makes her look up.
"You don't have to play alone, I'm right here." You let her know softly, but Wanda swallows at the sight of your naked figure and the enchanted hardness between your legs. Of all the things she learned to do, that honestly has to be her best spell. One of your hands grabs the silicone, instinctively or not, imitating the masturbation gesture that Wanda is making and she shudders to the tips of her toes, her body on fire. Her hand moves out of her panties immediately, raising it into the air in a beckoning gesture. You don't need to be told twice.
It's a breathless kiss when you reach her face again, equally eager to feel each other, there's a little war of pushing and pulling until Wanda feels completely pressed into the bed, the strap rubbing against her entrance.
You pull away when she whimpers - It's just to pull down her panties, and Wanda kicks the item away as you climb back up. Your mouth finds hers again so that when you align the strap and sink into her, you can swallow her moans.
The stretch is slow and careful, very different from the breathless way you were making out a few minutes ago. Wanda lets her nails dig into your lower back as you fight the urge to be rougher.
She gets used to the size very quickly, the creaminess of her previous orgasms making an obscene sound that makes her ears redden. You break the kiss to ask if she's ready and the only response you get is a determined throw of her hips up that registers her impatience.
In all quickies, you're always rough. Desperate to feel her, because you miss Wanda as much as she misses you, and in the rush, there's no time to prolong moments like this. But it's the first time in many months that you're relaxed, and you can thrust slowly and sensually inside Wanda, letting her feel every movement of your cock inside her warm walls as you kiss her and whisper praises in her ear.
Heat is spread under your skin, and sweat accumulates with the slow stimulation. You feel closer each time you sink inside her, and when Wanda starts whimpering in your ear, it feels like an impossible task to hold it.
"You're close?" You pant, hips starting to buckle. "I don't think… I can hold it anymore... Wands-" You choke, letting your face fall against her collarbone. The knot in your abdomen explodes without warning, and you moan deeply as you spill yourself inside Wanda, the enchanted strap vibrating inside her. It turns out that feeling you come was the push she needed, and Wanda sobs as she feels the blinding pleasure hit her, following you into climax a second later.
For a moment, all that can be heard in that room are your breathless sighs until your hoarse and satisfied chuckles emerge.
You remain inside her when you adjust so that you rest your elbows on the mattress and see her face.
"Hey, little witch."
She pushes back her sweaty hair with one hand, the other moving to rest on your neck. "Hey, spider."
Your nose brushes against hers. "I think we nailed Valentine's Day."
She giggles before pulling you for a kiss.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff fics#elizabeth olsen x reader#bottom!wanda#bottom!wanda maximoff#marvel imagines#wanda maximoff smut
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DON’T YOU LOVE THE DEVIL?
– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem!reader
– synopsis | wanda was everything you wanted in a mom. she was kind and loving, even to those who weren’t her own children. she, however, loved you in a very different way…
– warnings | porn with plot, non con that turns kinda dub con, smut, mommy kink, spanking, thigh riding, overstimulation, aftercare, wanda is a perv lmao (18+)
[word count: 3.4k]
Summer was always your favourite time. It meant avid beach trips, ice cream dates and - most importantly - bestie sleepovers. You enjoyed staying at Natasha's house, which was much larger than yours. Wanda, her mother, was always very kind to you, even more so than your own. Because of this, throughout high school, you found yourself always at the Maximoff’s. When you were going through a difficult time, you would always turn to her for support; she was a solid shoulder to cry on as her hushed whispers soothed you.
Much like your house, Natasha’s dad was never in the picture. And because Wanda never seemed to date, it was always just them two and sometimes you. Their house was your safe haven and Wanda was your beckoning angel. Now in your last year of college, you still find yourself coming to the older woman…
Countless nights, you wished she was your mom instead.
Reaching into your pocket, you fumble around for the front key, feeling its familiar shape between your fingertips.
This was your usual routine – Natasha would text when she was nearly home from work, and you’d arrive shortly after, letting yourself in with the spare key she had given you months ago.
The door swings open with a soft creak, revealing the warmth of the home beyond. The living room is empty, just the faint hum of the TV can be heard.
As you step into the kitchen, the warm aroma of burnt vanilla envelops you. Wanda stands against the island, dressed in a large, red sweater and black skirt, with one hand scrolling through her phone as the other holds a glass of red wine. She looked radiant as ever. A grown woman confident in her own skin and her ability.
“Hey, Wanda.”
She places her phone down and greets you warmly. “Hey there, sweetheart. How are you?”
“I’m good.” You take a seat next to her and she busies herself with pouring you a glass of red. You watch her, marvelling at how effortlessly she moves around the kitchen, her movements always graceful and fluid.
"So," Wanda begins, setting the glass in front of you, "another bestie sleepover?"
“Yep! Natasha’s going to be busy with Bucky next week so we’re spending as much time together.”
Wanda scoffs at the mention of her daughter’s partner, “Yeah, she said something about going to his parent’s lake house for the week.”
You hum, reaching for a sip of the wine, awkward in the revelation of Wanda’s distaste for her daughter’s boyfriend. I mean, it’s not like you like him either. You hate him actually. He was always so weird about your friendship with the redhead, always starting arguments around how much you guys hang out together and how he thinks you have a crush on her.
Plus, Natasha was way out of his league and he sometimes treated her like shit. It was only last week when Natasha was complaining about how they had an argument during their date and Bucky left her to find her own way home…
“I really don’t know what she sees in him.”
You sigh, setting the glass back down. “Me neither. He’s an asshole.”
Lost in thought, you fail to notice Wanda’s approach until an arm laid upon your shoulder, and a hand twirled around your curls.
“You know, I always thought Natasha would end up with you.”
Shocked by her confession, you try to respond - to deny that nothing would ever happened - but your mouth is unable to move as her nails scratch against your neck.
Wanda settles down in the stool beside you, hand retreating to stroke down your arm.
"I just don't understand. He’s boring and doesn’t deserve Tasha, whereas, you’re… you’re so much better than him.” She admits softly, her gaze fixed on you.
"You’re so much more than him.”
You shrug, expelling a shaky breath as you watch her manicured nail draw patterns against your exposed skin.
Silence envelopes you both, Wanda deep in thought and you pretend to act calm about the fact that Wanda’s touch has trailed down to your hands, resting in your lap.
“You know if I were her…” Her breath flutters against your ear, “I wouldn’t even think about anyone else… when I have you.”
Your heart skips a beat at her admission.
"I..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as you struggle to articulate the jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling within you.
It felt so wrong, and yet you didn’t want her to stop.
To keep stroking your hand,
To keep whispering in your ear.
To keep close to you.
“I think… I want to kiss you.” Wanda murmurs, her thumb gently running over your lips.
But before you could say anything, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss.
“So pretty.” She whispers, lips closing in once again, but the sudden closing of a door upstairs startles you both as you pull away. Eyes wide in fear that Natasha could’ve seen you kissing her mom.
Wanda leaves her seat, an unreadable expression on her face, and disappears into the living room, Natasha’s thundering footsteps break you from looking at her as she comes downstairs. Her hair is wet, her bangs clinging to her forehead. She must’ve been in the shower.
“You made it!” Natasha exclaims before briefly hugging you and dragging you with her upstairs, “Come on. Let’s watch a movie.”
…
A few hours later, and a few movies down, you end up back in the kitchen, in search of a drink. You spot Wanda in the living room watching a show, her presence both comforting and unnerving. No longer elegantly dressed, she lounges in a maroon satin night gown. The thin fabric barely covers her long legs as it glows complimentarily against her pale skin.
Summoning as much courage, you take a seat on the other end of the sofa. The drink long forgotten. She recognises your presence but you both don’t say anything, engrossed in some reality show on TV. This distraction works for a while but then, like a shadow in the morning sun, the memory of the kiss surfaces. Heat blossoms against your cheeks but you feel it weighing on your mind, a heavy burden demanding acknowledgement.
“Wanda,” your voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, ‘I think we should talk about earlier.”
With a delayed hum, she turns towards you, waiting patiently for you to continue. Your words stumble out clumsily, faltering as you try to convey the complexity of your emotions. You want to explain that the kiss was wrong, that she was your best friend’s mom and that nothing like that could happen again, but you don’t want to hurt her feelings in the process.
Her expression was unreadable, you could almost hear the pounding of your own heart, the uncertainty hanging thick in the air between you. And then, finally, she speaks.
“I’m sorry, darling. I thought- it was silly and inappropriate of me.” She reaches over to briefly squeeze your hand.
“Let’s forget it happened.”
You exhale with relief, “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”
Quick to change the conversation and clear the awkward tension, Wanda asks, “How come you’re down here anyways? Where’s Natasha?”
“Oh she fell asleep.” You giggle at the unattractive image of your best friend, snoring somewhat loudly and taking up your side of the bed.
“Besides, I’m not really tired, so I thought I’d come down for a drink.”
Wanda hums, a smile on her face at the sight of you giggling so cutely.
But you notice her hands run over bare arms, soothing the goosebumps and the slight shiver, “Are you cold?”
She looks at you for a moment, eyes taking in your concerned features before she nods.
“I’ll get you a blanket.” You move to stand but a grip on your wrist halts you.
“Don’t bother. Just sit here.”
She leans back against the pillows, legs parting slightly. Your brows furrow in confusion.
She tugs your wrist softly, “Don’t think, just come here.”
She pulls you to sit between her thighs, flush against her front as she winds her arms around you. It wasn’t uncommon being hugged by the older woman but it’s never been like this. But despite earlier, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. The room even felt cosier now all that tension was gone. So, you lean back into her embrace, feeling her steady heartbeat against your back and her warm thighs brush against yours.
“Hm, much better. You’ve always run hot.” Her face snuggles into your curls and you giggle.
Her large hands dip, holding softly onto your hips, pulling you even closer with a silent groan, before descending to your thighs. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine, but you maintain composure, thinking nothing of the surely innocent touch as you focus on the TV screen in front of you.
Her touch is gentle, sending a warm current through your body with each stroke. You feel your legs widen, following in the direction of her strokes, not wanting the caress to stop. The show on the TV fades into the background as your attention becomes solely fixated on her.
She leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “Pretty girl... feels good, doesn’t it?”
You nod, allowing yourself to melt further into her embrace, your head resting against her shoulder instead of watching her hands.
Wanda tuts, “No, baby, head up.”
A single hand moves from your thigh to hold the back of your head, forcing you to look down at your entwined legs. Another hand wanders higher than expected, tracing small circles into your inner thigh, jarring you out of your trance as you go to wiggle free from her grip. “Wanda… that’s-”
Your speech is cut off as fingers slip under your shorts, and you gasp, squirming with renewed vigour. But her hold refuses even the feeblest motions as she wraps an arm around your waist.
“Wanda… please!”
“Don’t think, baby.” She warns again, fingers gliding further into your shorts. “Just let yourself feel good.”
You fight harder, hips snapping away from her touch as hands pry at her wrist. “Get off me!”
“No, you’re not getting up.” You squirm again, and without warning, she digs her nails harshly into your soft skin. “I said, you’re not getting up.”
You whimper in pain and stop your movement. Instantly, her nails pull back from your skin, leaving red angry crescent marks. Those fingertips gently caress the marks to soothe them before moving up under your shirt.
“Good girl.” Those words bring an odd warmth to your body and suddenly you think that letting Wanda have her way with you couldn’t be as bad as you initially thought…
But light fingers caressing up and down your stomach, inching closer to your breasts reminded you of the position you’re in.
This was your best friend’s mom.
Natasha didn’t deserve this.
“Wanda, we can’t… it’s not right. What about Nat-?”
“It’s fine, princess.” She interrupts, placing a few chaste kisses against your neck. “She won’t find out.”
Suddenly, those hands slide up over your bare breasts and gently squeeze. You take in a deep breath and exhale slowly with a soft whimper. Pleased with the response, she begins to knead them kindly alternating between light and firm pressure.
“You like that, baby?” Wanda coos then nibbles on the side of your ear, descending your neck carefully to not leave bites and marks in place.
Your back arches slightly, pressing your breasts deeper into her adept grasp, and your defiance fades ever so quickly with each breathy moan.
“Hm, so needy, so responsive…” thumbs swipes over your perked nipples, “and all I’m doing is playing with your tits, princess.”
Your increased whines answer in reply and Wanda doesn’t bother wasting time anymore. Lifting a hand from its spot under your top, she glides down under your shorts. Her lithe fingers ghost over the soaked underwear, travelling low enough to feel the wetness seep from your slit, and she moans lowly at the sensation. “You’re so wet… fuck, is this all for me?”
Battling between not wanting this and giving in to her, you also fight the urge to thrust your hips upwards, to search for some needed friction, to end the maddening ache between your thighs.
The older woman’s light touches feel like heaven and hell as nimble fingers slide up and down the fabric that clung to you, purposely missing where you needed her most.
“That’s it, baby. Relax… let go for me.”
A strange fuzziness washes over you completely as you relax - moral sobriety long forgotten - as your legs spread apart limply for Wanda to grope in every direction.
“M’kay.” You reply, barely hearing yourself, lost in the moment.
Wanda sighs contently, forever pleased she’s put you in this headspace with such little fight.
Focusing back on your neck, she licks along the flushed skin, and as she bites against your pulse a little harder, the slight pain has you quivering.
You melt into the warm heat below you, head resting against a firm shoulder, as you let out a moan laced with pleasure and slight frustration. Hips bucking slightly back into Wanda’s hoping she’d take the hint and get on with it.
The quicker you gave her what she wanted, the quicker it would be done.
Finally, her index finger slides higher, the tip of her nail just brushing against your clit slightly. Your thighs shake at the motion, wanting to clamp shut around her but never doing so in fear she would stop. A cry falls from your mouth in surprise as her finger finally reaches, circling your swollen nerve endings in a slow yet firm motion.
Your words stumble out clumsily, unable to string a full sentence together as Wanda practically purrs against your ear.
“Oh, you’re doing so well, baby.” She coos, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, “So well for me… come here.”
Tipping your neck up, she dips forward, pressing her hot lips against your own. A choked note of dismay comes from you as Wanda forces your mouth open and shoves her tongue inside. The older woman dominates the clashing of tongues, making sure that you know your place.
You fail to notice Wanda pull your shorts and panties down from your hips until her fingers press against you harder, and you can’t help but grind against it with such aching desperation. She marvels over how pathetic you look… one minute begging for her to stop and now humping against her like a bitch in heat, swallowing her tongue down your throat.
Such a depraved mental image and yet it only feeds into her desire for you.
To claim you as hers, no matter if you wanted it or not.
Because she didn’t care.
She could feel herself getting wetter, as she met your grinding with her own thrusts, your ass pressing flush against her soaked panties.
The kiss eventually comes to an end, a few hungry strands of saliva briefly clinging to your lips, linking you together. Wanda gazes lovingly at the sight of you, a growing smile on her lips, as you writhe in building pleasure.
“Can you look at me, princess?”
Wanda asks in a sultry tone and you struggle to open your eyes, squinting against the light as her blurry face comes into focus. Her pupils are blown out, partly consuming those emerald irises, her cheeks painted a flushed pink, and her lips part as she pants freely.
She looks so beautiful.
Her green eyes shine clouded over in a different colour than Natasha’s…
Natasha.
Dread seeps into your bones, your body ripped from its relaxed trance as you recall your best friend and how she’s sleeping upstairs as you’re fucked by her mom.
You don’t want to think about how upset she would be to find you like this.
“Baby…” She reels your mind back to focus on her, noticing you’re beginning to spiral. “You ready to come for me?”
Her fingers speed up perfectly but you shook your head in defiance, your mind no longer free to just enjoy Wanda’s touch.
“No,” she coos, “you don’t want to come for me, baby? Don’t want to come for Mommy?”
A whiny no leaves your lips, not giving in to the beautiful temptress behind you.
Annoyed, Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly upset that you wouldn’t just give in to her and that you’re not nestled in that special little headspace anymore.
Without warning, she twists your thigh over the other, ass on show as she lashes out with a sharp slap. You cry out at the unexpected blow, your hands grabbing tightly onto whatever part of the woman you can reach. You weren’t sure if you were trying to push her away or pull her close.
“I thought we were done with that, baby.” She unleashes a few more spanks, “Thought you were going to be my good girl, hm?”
You gasp for air at the same time Wanda gropes your marked flesh, pulling your cheeks apart as she rubs in soothing circles. The breath turns into a choked moan as Wanda spanks you one more time, before returning you to your original position, back to pressing firm circles against your clit.
Once again, you fight her touch. Hips wiggling in each direction until ankles wrap around your legs, locking you in place.
Tight circles turn to quick taps, the once pleasing hand now bringing pain upon your pussy in rapid succession, not allowing you to writhe in her generosity for too long before returning to cruelty.
A beautiful blend that muddled all of your defying thoughts until there was nothing left.
Your body betrayed your mind. Your legs fell completely limp, as you lay at the mercy of the older woman. Taking whatever she deemed necessary to give.
Finally, she had you.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re going to cum all over my fingers for me.” She concludes with a kiss on your cheek.
And not caring if you cry loud enough to wake up the rest of the house, her fingers speed up for the last time, sending you headfirst over the edge.
…
After what felt like hours, Wanda was done with you. You had moved into her bedroom, deciding the sofa was not adequate to continue. Now her head rests against your stomach after she had spread you open to lap up your next orgasm.
Your body spasms randomly, wave after wave of aftershock rolling over you. A warm hand cups your core firmly, and you buck away from the sensitivity, not wanting her touch anymore. But her fingers remain, gliding slowly up and down your slit, marvelling at your swollen skin, before pushing against your entrance.
You’re overwhelmed. What little fight you have left mentally can’t keep up with the fatigue of your exhausted body. If she wanted to, she could have her way with you. Again and again. Fresh tears fall from your eyes as you sob inconsolably into hands covering your face.
Wanda leaves you be, moving up your body to grab onto your wrists.
“Hey, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay…” she coos, fingertips wiping away your tears, “Mommy went too hard on you, didn’t she?”
You struggle to find the words, and Wanda shushes you, stopping you from thinking too much in such a delicate headspace.
You feel movement, feel Wanda get off you, and your eyes snap open in a slight panic but she sits beside you and swiftly draws you onto her lap.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” She says gently, reeling you in with false empathy. She was glad she pushed you too hard you broke.
“Mommy couldn’t help herself.”
You scoot closer, close enough to bury your head into her neck as fingers trail up and down your back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. Can you forgive me?”
Her soothing words are music to your ears as you whimper softly against the woman, not willing to talk or move away. You just want her to hold you.
“Say it, princess. Say you forgive me.”
She guides you out of her neck to look at her.
“I forgive you.” You choke out, upset you’re no longer buried in her chest, as your hands run back to cover your eyes. Too ashamed to even look at her.
“Sweet girl, come here.” Wanda doesn’t wait, moving your hands to wrap around her neck as she kisses you hungrily, swallowing any little disapprovals as you push languidly against her chest, trying to force her mouth off of you.
It’s fine, it’s fine,” she ushers against your swollen lips, “I just want to make you feel better.”
You whine in disapproval but your arms wrap tighter around her.
“You love me, don’t you?” She whispers against your cheek, but doesn’t let you reply, as you choke on her tongue, stroking deep against yours.
“Say you love me, baby.” She moves to kiss your forehead, before moving down against your collarbone.
Hands groping your ass as she rocks you steady against her thigh.
“I love you,” a few tears burn down your throat as you hiccup,” I love you, I love you.”
Wanda mumbles her gratitude into your skin, fresh marks blooming against your chest as she fucks you against her.
“Keep saying you love me, baby.”
“I love you, I love you, I love you…” flies from your mouth in quick succession, your mind once again empty as the tell tale signs of another orgasm come into view.
“I love you too, princess.” She returns to your lips, tongue prodding past them as she coaxes your tongue into her mouth.
“Come on. Be good for me.”
It slams into you, body tense as you fall over the edge, pressing your face deep into her neck. She shushes you, not letting go of your body until the convulsions stop, and even then, you’re curled into her chest. Unwilling to part from her.
She allows you to sob freely, your body shaking uncontrollably as hands stroke all over until you calm down. Almost asleep in her arms.
A hand runs through your damp hair, “That’s it, baby. We’re done.”
“No more.” You mumble out, eyes already shut as exhaustion washes over.
“No more, baby. Go to sleep.” Wanda shifts you down her body, your face now against her chest, as she covers you both with her duvet.
Unable to resist any longer, you drift off in Wanda’s warm embrace.
#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff#: @florietas
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Vanilla
Bucky x Y/N
Bucky overhears Y/N talking to Nat about her unfulfilled desires…
Requests Open!
Warnings: Smut. Fingering. Oral (f!receiving). P in v sex. Slight Sir kink. All after the red division —————-
The soft afternoon set in around the compound, casting warm shadows in the living room where you and Bucky often spent lazy afternoons together.
Today, however, he was out training with Steve, and you found solace in the quiet as you prepared a small snack in the kitchen. You were humming softly to yourself, the sound of your movements blending with the faint echoes of clanking weights coming from outside.
Just as you were about to pour yourself a cup of tea, Natasha entered, her hair pulled back in a tight bun, a knowing smile on her lips. “Hey, Y/N!” she called out, crossing the room with a confident stride.
“Hey, Nat!” you replied, your heart lifting at her presence. “Want some tea?”
“Sure!” she said, leaning against the counter, her gaze curious.
“So, how’s it going with Bucky..?”
You felt a slight blush rise to your cheeks, a smile breaking across your face. This was your favorite question - because life with Bucky was just incredible. “It’s great! I mean, he’s just... he’s amazing.” The warmth of your feelings was palpable, and you couldn’t help but beam as you spoke about him.
Natasha chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I can tell you’re smitten. What’s he been up to?”
“Oh, you know, just the usual. Training, trying to get better at the whole ‘normal life’ thing. He’s been really sweet lately.”
You absentmindedly stirred your tea, remembering the little things he did—like the way he always made sure you had your favorite snacks or how he would leave little notes around the house.
“Sweet, huh?” Natasha teased. “What about in the other department?”
You paused, biting your lip. Nat was never bashful.
The question made your heart race. “Well, it’s great, it is... but I guess I have some... unfulfilled desires,” you admitted shyly, your voice dropping as you glanced away.
Natasha raised an eyebrow, leaning in as if she were about to divulge a juicy secret. “Like what?”
You hesitated, a nervous flutter in your stomach. “You know, maybe trying something a little less... vanilla.” The words slipped out, and you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you.
Natasha smirked, leaning closer with a conspiratorial tone. “No, I get it. You want to spice things up a little?”
“Yeah, that’s it. I just think we could do something more…”
“Kinky?” She stated.
You felt the itch of blood rushing to your face.
“I understand that, it took me and Bruce a while to get into the swing of something more interesting. He was always scared he’d break me. Think that Bucky’s problem?”
Before you could reply, a heavy footfall sounded from the hallway, and the door swung open. Bucky stepped into the room, glancing between the two of you.
“What’s going on in here?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly, the playfulness in his voice tinged with curiosity.
You quickly straightened up, forcing a smile. “Oh, we were just talking about... nothing much!”
Bucky looked from you to Natasha, his instincts picking up on the slight tension in the air. “Right. Well, I’ll just go grab a drink.” He turned, his expression unreadable as he walked away.
Natasha’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, her teasing smile replaced by something softer. “You should talk to him, you know. Communication is key,” she said gently before leaving you alone in the kitchen.
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of what you had just shared hanging in the air. What would he say if you brought it up? Would he be upset? You hoped he wouldn’t take it the wrong way. He was perfect in so many ways, but you longed for a deeper connection, a chance to explore more together.
——————————————————————————————————
Later on, you and Bucky were sitting together on the couch, watching something neither of you were watching.
“Everything okay?” you asked one evening as you curled up next to him on the couch, your fingers tracing patterns on his arm.
He looked down at you, a slight frown crossing his face.
“Yeah, of course, sweetheart,” he replied, but the hesitation in his voice made you worry.
“Are you sure? You seem a little... off.” You shifted, trying to catch his gaze, but he looked away, focusing on the television instead.
“I’m just... thinking about stuff,” he said, his tone evasive.
You wanted to press him further, to ask about that day with Natasha, but something held you back. Instead, you settled for resting your head on his shoulder, hoping he would open up when he was ready.
——————————————————————————————————
As the days passed, Bucky started to show subtle signs of change.
He began cooking more elaborate meals, experimenting with spices and flavors, making an effort to make each dinner an occasion. You found yourself laughing and teasing him about his newfound culinary skills, and it felt like old times when the air was light and carefree.
One night, after a particularly delightful dinner, you found yourself sitting on the counter, your legs swinging as Bucky cleaned up the dishes. You watched him with admiration, noticing the way his muscles flexed as he scrubbed the plates, lost in thought.
“Want some help?” you offered, swinging your legs over the edge.
“Nope, I got this, darling,” he replied, flashing you a smile that made your heart skip. “Just enjoy your time, Kitten.”
But as he continued washing the dishes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still bothering him. “You’ve been acting a little different lately,” you ventured, trying to keep your tone light.
He paused, glancing over his shoulder at you. “Different how?”
You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I don’t know. Just... more serious, I guess. Is everything okay?”
Bucky set down the dish he was cleaning and turned to face you fully, the light reflecting in his blue eyes. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just... trying to think about what you said the other day.”
Your heart raced at his words, hope mingling with anxiety. “What do you mean?”
He stepped closer, the space between you charged with unspoken words. “About wanting more than just the usual, you know?”You swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks heat.
“Bucky, I didn’t mean to—”He interrupted, his expression softening.
“No, it’s okay. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. And I want to make sure you’re happy, that you feel fulfilled.”
A wave of warmth washed over you, but your nerves fluttered. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Bucky. I just—”
“No, I want to,” he said firmly, stepping closer until your legs brushed against his. “I just didn’t know if that was something you really wanted.”
Your heart pounded as you looked into his eyes, the sincerity of his words warming you from the inside out. “I do. I just want to explore... things together.”
Bucky took a deep breath, his gaze intense. “Then let’s do it. I want to make it special for you.”
The promise in his voice sent butterflies dancing in your stomach, a mix of excitement and nerves flooding your senses. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I’d love that.”
Bucky's hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. The tenderness of the gesture made your breath catch.
"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I want to hear you say it."
You felt a rush of heat flood your body at his words. Your tongue darted out to wet your suddenly dry lips. "I... I want you to take control," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "To push my boundaries a little."
His eyes darkened at your confession, pupils dilating with desire. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone serious despite the obvious want in his gaze.
You nodded, feeling both nervous and exhilarated. "Yes. I trust you, Bucky."
A slow smile spread across his face, equal parts tender and wicked. "Alright, doll. Let's start slow." His metal hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "First rule - you do exactly as I say. Understood?"
A shiver ran down your spine at the commanding tone in his voice. "Yes," you breathed.
"Yes, what?" he prompted, eyebrow raised.
You swallowed hard, realizing what he wanted. "Yes... sir."
Bucky's eyes flashed with approval. "Good girl," he purred, the praise sending a jolt of pleasure through you. "Now, I want you to keep your hands at your sides. Don't move them unless I tell you to."
You nodded, heart racing as he slowly began unbuttoning your shirt. His fingers brushed against your skin with each movement, leaving trails of fire in their wake. When he reached the last button, he pushed the fabric open, exposing
your lace-covered breasts to his hungry gaze. Your nipples hardened instantly under his scrutiny, straining against the delicate fabric.
"Beautiful," Bucky murmured, his flesh hand skimming along your collarbone. "I've always loved this bra on you."
You fought the urge to arch into his touch, remembering his command to keep still. The effort it took sent a thrill through you.
"Thank you, sir," you whispered, your voice breathy with desire.
Bucky's eyes met yours, a mix of lust and tenderness in their blue depths. "You're doing so well already, doll. Now, I want you to close your eyes."
You obeyed instantly, darkness enveloping you as your other senses heightened. You could hear Bucky's steady breathing, feel the heat radiating from his body so close
to yours. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you waited for his next move.
Suddenly, you felt the cool metal of his left hand tracing along your jawline, down your neck, across your collarbone. The contrast between the chill of the vibranium and the warmth of your flushed skin made you gasp softly.
"Shh," Bucky murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Remember, no moving unless I say so and be quiet, Kitten"
You bit your lip, fighting to stay still as his metal fingers danced along the edge of your bra, teasing but not quite touching where you desperately wanted him to.
His flesh hand came up to cup your other breast, kneading gently through the lace. A whimper escaped your throat at the dual sensations.
"That's it, doll," Bucky praised, his voice rough with desire. "You're doing so well for me."
His metal thumb brushed over your nipple through the thin fabric, causing it to harden instantly. You arched your back slightly, craving more contact, but Bucky tsked softly.
"What did I say about moving?" he reminded you, withdrawing his hands. The loss of his touch was agonizing.
"I'm sorry," you breathed. "Please, Sir. I need you."
He chuckled low in his throat. "I know you do, sweetheart. And you'll have me. But only when I decide you're ready."
His flesh hand slid down your stomach, fingers playing with the waistband of your panties. Your thighs trembled with the effort of keeping still as he teased you mercilessly.
"Tell me what you want," Bucky commanded, his voice husky.
Your breath caught in your throat as you struggled to form coherent thoughts. Bucky's touch was electrifying, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.
"I... I want you to touch me," you managed to whisper, your voice trembling with need. "Everywhere."
Bucky's eyes darkened with desire as he slowly slid your panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. His metal hand trailed up your inner thigh, the cool touch making you shiver with anticipation.
"Like this?" he asked, his fingers ghosting over your most sensitive areas, barely making contact.
You whimpered, fighting the urge to buck your hips. "More, please," you begged.
Bucky leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.
Bucky leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. His metal hand continued its teasing exploration between your thighs, while his flesh hand cupped your breast, thumb circling your nipple.
"Tell me exactly what you want me to do," he murmured against your skin. "I want to hear you say it."
Your cheeks flushed with a mix of arousal and shyness, but you forced yourself to vocalize your desires. "I want... I want your fingers in me," you breathed. "And your mouth here..."
A low growl rumbled in Bucky's chest as he obliged, sliding two cool metal fingers into your slick heat while his lips closed around your nipple. You gasped at the dual sensations, your back arching involuntarily.
Bucky's metal fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made you see stars.
His tongue swirled around your nipple as he sucked gently, sending hard rushes of pleasure through your body. You moaned, struggling to keep still as he'd commanded.
"That's it, doll," he murmured against your breast. "Let me hear how good it feels."
His thumb found your clit, circling it with just the right pressure. You cried out, your hands fisting in the sheets as you fought the urge to grind against his hand.
"Sir, please," you whimpered. "I need more."
He lifted his head, his blue eyes dark with desire as they met yours. "What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me."
You swallowed hard, gathering your courage. "I want... I want your mouth on me. Down here."
Bucky's eyes flashed with hunger at your words. "Is that so?" he murmured, trailing kisses down your stomach. "I think I can arrange that."
He settled between your thighs, his warm breath teasing your sensitive flesh. You trembled in anticipation as he placed soft kisses along your inner thighs, purposefully avoiding where you needed him most.
"Bucky," you whined, desperate for his touch.
He chuckled, the vibration sending shivers through you. "Patience, doll. I'm going to take my time with you."
Finally, his tongue flattened against your core, licking a long, slow stripe.
You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily.
Bucky's metal arm draped over your pelvis, holding you in place as he continued his ministrations. His tongue circled your clit before sucking, your hips bucking involuntarily. Bucky's metal arm draped across your lower abdomen, holding you in place as he explored you with his mouth. His talented tongue swirled around your clit before dipping lower, tasting your arousal.
You moaned loudly, forgetting his earlier command for silence in your pleasure.
Bucky paused, lifting his head to look at you with a mix of amusement and stern reproach in his eyes. "What did I say about staying quiet, doll?" he murmured, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh.
You bit your lip, breathing heavily. "I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "Please don't stop."
He smirked, trailing his flesh hand up your inner thigh. "I suppose I can forgive you this time," he said, his voice low and husky. "But you'll have to work harder to stay silent."
Without warning, he plunged another 2 fingers inside you, curling them expertly as his mouth returned to your clit. The sparks of euphoria were overwhelming, and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle your cries of pleasure. Bucky worked you relentlessly, his fingers pumping in and out while his tongue flicked and swirled. You writhed beneath him, desperate for release yet fighting to stay quiet. Your free hand tangled in his hair, urging him closer.
He growled against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You could feel the pressure building, your thighs trembling as you neared the edge. Bucky sensed your impending climax and redoubled his efforts, curling his fingers to hit that perfect spot inside you while sucking hard on your clit.
Your body tensed as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.
You bit down hard on your lip, tasting blood as you fought to remain silent. Your back arched off the bed as your orgasm ripped through you, vision going white at the edges. Bucky didn't let up, working you through every aftershock until you were a quivering, oversensitive mess beneath him.
Finally, he lifted his head, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he took in your flushed cheeks and heaving chest. He crawled up your body, pressing a searing kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he explored your mouth.
"Good girl," he murmured against your lips. "You did so well staying quiet for me."
His erection pressed insistently against your thigh, reminding you that he was far from finished with you. Bucky trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. His metal hand cupped your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple and drawing a soft gasp from your lips.
"Think you can stay quiet for what comes next, doll?" he murmured against your collarbone, his voice rough with desire.
You nodded eagerly, beyond words as anticipation coursed through you. Bucky chuckled darkly, positioning himself between your thighs. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds, teasing you mercilessly. Your hips bucked, seeking more contact, but his hands gripped your waist firmly.
"Ah ah," he tsked. "Patience, remember?"
You whimpered softly, desperate for him to fill you.
Bucky's eyes locked with yours, dark with lust, as he slowly pushed inside. Your breath caught in your throat as he stretched you, the delicious burn of his thick length making your toes curl. He paused when fully sheathed, giving you a moment to adjust.
"So tight for me, doll," he groaned, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding still.
You clenched around him experimentally, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips. Taking that as his cue, Bucky began to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts that had you seeing stars. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the muscles flex beneath your fingertips as he drove into you.
Gradually, his pace increased. The room filled with the sound of skin on skin and your muffled whimpers.
Bucky's pace increased, driving into you with powerful strokes. The old couch creaked beneath you as he pounded relentlessly, hitting that perfect spot deep inside with each thrust. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your cries of pleasure against his skin.
His metal hand gripped your hip, the cool plates a stark contrast to your feverish skin. The other tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to expose your throat. Bucky's lips latched onto your pulse point, sucking and biting as he marked you as his.
"Say you’re mine," he growled, his voice rough with exertion and desire. "Say it."
"Yours," you gasped out, teetering on the edge of orgasm. "I'm yours, Bucky."
He groaned at your words, his hips snapping faster. "That's right, Kitten. All mine…Fuck-" Bucky growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Come for me again. Let me feel you."
His words pushed you over the edge. Your back arched as waves of pleasure crashed over you, the corners of your vision going white as your second orgasm came faster than the first had. You bit down on Bucky's shoulder, your walls clenching around him.
Bucky groaned at the sensation, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, spilling himself with a low moan of your name.
You both lay there for a moment, breathing heavily as you came down from your highs. Bucky's weight pressed you into the arm of the couch, his face buried in your neck as he placed soft kisses along your collarbone.
“Still too vanilla, Princess?” He muttered.
“I…”
“Maybe next time I’ll get the rope out.” Bucky deadpanned.
——————————————————————————————————-
So, what do you think? Should Bucky get the rope out? 🤔
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for so long as you live
pairing: mafia!bucky barnes x female reader
summary: the fearsome boss of new york city's russian mob proves a point about who you belong to
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), very mild dubcon, intoxication, fingering (f receiving), public play, finger sucking, choking, breathplay, very mild blood kink, dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (printsessa), very possessive bucky
word count: 2.0k
a/n: i wrote this for @the-slumberparty's emoji game using these: 🍕❤️🔥 i hope the plot twist in this actually works (idk if it counts as a PLOT twist but whatever). i just hope it's surprising but still makes sense!!! also all the russian words are from google translate so if any are wrong, let me know and i'll fix them (translations are down at the bottom because one is a spoiler!) anyway i hope y'all enjoy!!
It was a warm summer night in New York City, the kind where even the breeze was pleasant enough that you didn’t resist when a balmy gust slipped beneath the hem of your short white dress and slid up your legs, tickling the soft skin of your thighs.
Neither did you resist when the breeze was chased by the searching hand of Bucky Barnes, his fingers skimming up your smooth skin as he curled his body around yours in the back booth of the late night Brooklyn pizza parlor.
The front door of the shop was open, and all manner of drunken Brooklynites traipsed over the threshold, intent on ordering a greasy slice that would soak up some of the alcohol in their stomachs. The crowd was loud and rowdy and thankfully unobservant, because you were painfully aware that any one of them could very easily catch you with Bucky’s hand up your skirt.
The back booth wasn’t nearly dark enough, nor secluded enough to hide you entirely from view, but the insistent desire and warming liquor pounding in your blood made it difficult to care.
Bucky’s fingers slid another inch up your thigh, pressing between your soft curves until they found the wetness that had dripped from your folds and made a mess under your skirt. His rumbling chuckle felt like another warm, summer breeze, suffusing you in a heat that burned from the inside out.
Your thighs fell open of their own accord, giving Bucky unfettered access to the place that ached for his touch, even as a protesting whine worked its way up your throat.
“Bucky…” you mewled, your reticence clear in your tone. Your fingers closed around the sinewy forearm that was disappearing up your skirt, intent on pulling him away from your soaking heat. Your nails dug into his golden skin when his other hand darted out and grabbed you by the throat.
With his thumb pressed to the hinge of your jaw, he turned your face to him, a warning sparkling in his ice blue eyes. A thrum of fear and excitement churned low in your belly at the way Bucky was looking at you—like you were prey, and he was a predator who had already decided he was going to eat you for dinner.
“I hope you weren’t about to tell me not to touch this pussy, printsessa,” Bucky rumbled, his voice deep and low like an oncoming thunderstorm. His hand wedged between your thighs beneath your skirt, shoving your legs wider so that he could cup your bare heat in his palm. “I hope you haven’t forgotten who this cunt belongs to.”
Your breath was coming in short, rabbity pants, your heart racing in your chest and your blood pounding in your veins like you were running for your life. But your mind knew what your body did not���it would be pointless to run from Bucky Barnes.
The Zimniy Soldat was the most feared boss in the city’s Russian mafia, a fact you’d learned the hard way when your father had paid off his debts by giving you to Bucky.
Bucky’s gaze bore into your own as he pushed two fingers into your tight channel, his eyes watching hungrily as your face went slack with pleasure.
“I’ll touch you whenever I want,” he growled, dragging his fingers back and plunging them into you again slowly, his eyes never straying from your face. “I’ll fuck you whenever I want—where ever I want.”
His other hand held you pinned to the leather booth by your throat, your body responding so eagerly to his touch that it felt like a betrayal. His thumb and forefinger pressed into the sides of your neck making your pussy spasm around his fingers.
Your body proved Bucky’s point before he made it as he rumbled, “This cunt belongs to me, printsessa.”
You hadn’t said a word since his name, but your slow submission was clear in every little movement of your body—your thighs spreading even wider for Bucky’s hand, your limbs loosening and melting into his hold, your lips falling open in a soundless moan as he fingerfucked you. Bucky owned you, and you both knew it.
And he relished your submission, even if you hadn’t quite accepted his possession of you yet. But you would.
The victorious smile that curved Bucky’s mouth was sharp and dangerous as a knife. When he spoke, though, his voice was as warm as the balmy summer breeze.
“Good girl,” he murmured, “give yourself to me.” The ice in his eyes was slowly but surely melting as he watched pleasure dance across your face, his smile widening into something hot and hungry. “This life of yours is mine now, printsessa, but if you’re a good girl for me, I can make sure it’s filled with pleasure and happiness,” he purred, his lips brushing against the apple of your cheek, their softness followed by the rough scrape of his scruff.
Bucky slid a third finger into your tight hole, stretching you wider and making you bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from crying out in pain-edged pleasure. Your chest heaved with the effort to stay quiet and, unbidden, a tear slipped from the corner of your eye while blood pooled on your lip.
But Bucky never stopped fucking you with his fingers, his hand working your body expertly as the soft, wet sounds of your obscenely sopping cunt reached your ears. Instead, the Zimniy Soldat kissed the tear from your cheek and licked the blood from your swollen lip, pulling back to stare into your eyes as he watched you come undone for him.
“You are mine,” he said with a tone of finality, as if his statement was an incontrovertible fact. Any protest you might’ve had—though in truth, you didn’t have any left—died in your throat as he choked you harder, his fingers working your pussy faster, grinding the heel of his palm into your wet, puffy clit as he continued on, pushing you to the edge of your release. “Moya printsessa, moya zhena.”
You felt Bucky’s ring—your husband’s ring—smooth and unyielding and warm from his skin, slip inside your cunt as he buried his fingers in your body. He rubbed your clit ruthlessly until he made you come right there in the back of the pizza parlor, not caring if anyone in the crowded shop could see it.
Your left hand, bedecked in a dazzling white sapphire ring and matching wedding band, wrapped around the back of Bucky’s neck, your nails digging into his skin as you clung to the most dangerous man in all of New York City while he made you come harder than you ever had before. Pleasure tore through your body as you held Bucky’s warm blue gaze, staring at the man who’d staked his claim on you.
The man you’d married only a few hours prior because it was the only way to settle your father’s debts.
“Good girl, good fucking girl,” Bucky growled, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm, his eyes watching you hungrily, greedily.
Already, you could read him well enough to know he was thinking about watching you come on his cock as he claimed you in the most base, primal way possible. Your pussy clenched harder on his fingers at the thought, your body aching for it even as you came.
“Come all over your husband’s fingers—see how good I can be to you when you obey me, printsessa.”
Your teeth had sunk deep into your lower lip to quell any sounds of ecstasy, but the pleasure was too much, too overwhelming, and you threw your head back. Your breathy cry was muffled by Bucky’s fingers choking your throat harder, which only wrung even more bliss out of your body as black crept into the edges of your vision.
Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, your husband’s relentless touch dragging out your release until your strangled moans devolved into desperate whimpers. Tears gathered in your lashes, and your entire body trembled in the red leather booth at the back of the pizza parlor.
Only then did Bucky relent. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured before his lips slammed down on yours, his mouth claiming yours just as surely as his fingers had claimed your cunt.
He swallowed the keening whine you let out when he pulled his fingers from your throbbing pussy, your body aching at the loss of him. But then he replaced his mouth with them, pushing his fingers between your lips so you could taste your release—the release he’d wrung so masterfully from your body.
“Clean up your mess, moya zhena,” Bucky rumbled, his eyes sparkling with depraved delight as you dutifully licked his fingers clean.
When he decided you were done, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and let you collapse against his chest, your cheek pressed to his white cotton dress shirt—the one he’d worn to your wedding earlier that day.
His jacket had been shed at some point during the party at one of his nightclubs—a club decorated in neon red hearts. Bucky had smirked in amusement when you’d pointed out the irony of celebrating your forced marriage in a place where the theme was love.
That infuriating smirk had made you decide the best way to celebrate your sham nuptials was to drink and dance the night away. You’d spent your night trying not to notice how handsome the mob boss you’d married was, or how delicious he looked with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Or how a very small part of you enjoyed the way his eyes never strayed from you for long.
It had been your idea to get some pizza after the club, a last ditch attempt to put off the wedding night you were certain Bucky expected. You kept telling yourself you didn’t want him to touch you, but the second his fingers had grazed your bare knee beneath the simple white dress you wore, tingles of pleasure going straight to your clit, you’d known it was no use pretending you didn’t want your new husband.
When your father told you he’d arranged for you to marry the Zimniy Soldat in exchange for having his debts cleared, you never believed you could find anything to like about your mob boss husband. But Bucky had proven you very wrong in that back booth in the pizza parlor, and you were warming up to the idea of being Mrs. James Buchanan Barnes.
“Tell me you’re mine, printsessa,” Bucky rumbled, drawing your thoughts back to the present moment. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head where it was tucked under his chin, and your heart flipped happily in your chest.
The words were no less a command for the warmth in his tone that he seemed to reserve for only you, his new wife.
Perhaps it was because of the pleasure still thrumming through your body, or because you weren’t so convinced anymore that being married to the Zimniy Soldat would be a bad thing, but the words came much easier to your lips than you would’ve expected.
“I’m yours, my husband.”
A pleased sound rumbled in Bucky’s throat and you felt the way his heart beat harder in his chest with your cheek pressed to his sternum. You couldn’t help the small smile that curved your lips when Bucky threaded the fingers of his left hand through yours, your matching rings slotting next to each other and glittering beneath the yellow lights of the pizza parlor.
“You’ll be happy with me,” Bucky promised, the most recent of many vows he’d made to you that day. His words rang with determination and an emotion you’d never expected to hear from the mob boss—adoration. “So long as you always remember you belong to me, moya zhena.”
A shiver of delight raced down your spine at his possessive words, finding yourself liking them much more than you would’ve thought.
Something told you that you’d never forget you belonged to Bucky Barnes. Not at any point during the hopefully long and happy life you were going to live with him. You were his wife, and he was your husband, for so long as you both should live.
translations:
printsessa/moya printsessa - princess/my princess
Zimniy Soldat - Winter Soldier
moya zhena - my wife
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Bucky who starts a purely platonic physical touch giving friendship with reader… until it turns into more
・゚✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 。✭・゚
It starts off so innocently. Bucky just sat really close to you one day and noticed how the touch of your shoulder on his made him tingly all over.
The same happened when your hand brushed his, or you passed close by, and he caught a whiff of your hair - something that reminds him of the feeling he now seeks out when you’re around.
It’s no secret that either of you have been single a long time with basically no prospects for a future relationship, so no one questions when you and him suddenly hang out more.
He invites you over when you ask him if he was okay, and he realized that his day was in fact crappy and that if you offered to talk to him, he’d tell you all about it.
And when you sit on the sofa listening to Bucky talk, your hand instinctively found his and before Bucky knew it, his head was pressed into your shoulder, your nails raking over his scalp releasing a feeling within him, he can only describe as heavenly.
He loves it when you comfort him, and he loves comforting you, somehow knowing that you need this part of your friendship just as much as he does.
So it becomes a regular thing: when the rest of the team returns home to their spouses after a tiring mission, you and Bucky retreat to either one of your apartments under the pretense of not wanting to be alone.
Of course, neither of you planned for it to become so touchy and intimate... no, that would be insane, right?
It’s a normal afternoon for the two of you, hanging out at your place, a movie playing on TV, Bucky’s head buried in your chest as he lays half on top of you and you with your back against the sofa. Your hand rakes over his hair as his are halfway tugged beneath your body, seeking all the warmth he can get.
The physical touch aspect of your relationship has somehow crossed the lines between friends, but neither of you care. It feels too good to be held and protected to stop.
Bucky hasn't felt the caring touch of a partner in decades and you... well, let's just say that all men before Bucky didn't feel the need to express their love through aftercare - not that Bucky is in any way shape or form about to give said aftercare... no, you are just friends. Just. Friends.
Friends who frequently hide their hands in the other's jacket when the cold catches up to them.
Friends who bury their faces in each other's chest and lap like it is the most normal thing a person can do to another.
Friends who somehow always wonder if the other feels that spark ignite whenever they hold each other close.
Bucky feels the sensation when he's practically caging you beneath his upper body of the sofa. He lifts his head as he usually does to see if maybe this time he could magically hear your thoughts.
"What's up?"
He shakes his head. "I just really enjoy this." he mumbles and blushes, and your hand suddenly stops its path along his scalp.
"Me too." you smile and look into his eyes.
normally he'd put his head back, and you'd resume watching the movie, but something is different today.
maybe it's the way his hair looks perfectly tousled by your constant motions, or maybe it's the way he slowly blinks at you like a very comfortable pet.
but you finally find the courage to kiss him.
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#m shorts#bucky barnes headcanon#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x you#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes au#the winter soldier x you#winter soldier x reader#captain america winter soldier#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan imagine#james bucky barnes
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The Newlywed Game
Summary: You’re forced to play The Newlywed Game with your ex situationship.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F. Reader
Warnings: Angst. Smuttish, but not my usual descriptive smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.
See my Masterlist here
“I can’t.” That’s all the explanation you got when Bucky ended your situationship. You were friends with benefits for almost a year. The only rule he had was don’t fall in love. He had too much baggage and he never wanted a family. He didn’t want anyone to depend on him.
You couldn’t blame him, he was traumatized by Hydra. Trapped inside his own body for decades, he was afraid it could happen again. You jumped in head first with him anyways. You were in his bed after every mission, every meeting, every day. You basically lived in his room, not that he would ever admit that. Then one rainy afternoon, you knocked on his door like always. Except this time, he didn’t pull you into his warm embrace.
He moved out of the way so you could come in, and immediately you knew something was wrong. You reached for him, ready to console him, desperate for his touch. He had just finished a mission with Sam and he’d been gone for two weeks. You missed him, and he was usually so excited to see you.
When you placed your hand on his cheek, rubbing the scruff that had grown while he was gone, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist removing it. “I can’t do this anymore.” His voice was so low you could barely understand. Your eyes narrowed at his words. “Have I done something wrong?”
“This has gone on for longer than it should have. I can’t let it anymore.” Your throat tightens, but you refuse to cry in front of him. You walked out and your relationship with him was never the same. You didn’t hang out anymore.
When you were alone, he would leave. He didn’t sit beside you during the Friday night movie. He didn’t choose you for his partner on game night. The other Avengers didn’t know for sure that you were hooking up. You hid it pretty well. They had their suspicions, but neither of you ever confirmed it.
Tony called everyone to the back yard. “What’s all this?” Steve asks, pointing to the stage he had set up. “It’s my anniversary tomorrow and Pepper said she always wanted to play the Newlywed Game. So I had this built so we could play.”
“That’s great, Tony. But who are you all going to play with? There’s four set up’s and only two couples.” Steve gestures to Wanda and Vision. “Thought about that and Cap, you and Natasha are going to play and….” He looks at the whole team, everyone looking in different directions trying not to make eye contact. Except for Sharon, who hung around a lot lately. She was getting closer to Bucky, obviously wanting Tony to choose them. You roll your eyes. “Barnes and Y/N. There now we have all our couples. I’m going to go get Pep, you guys take your spots.”
You look at Bucky,but he’s busy talking to Steve about how ridiculous it is. You hear Sharon agree that he should have chosen someone else. When Pepper comes in, she excitedly claps her hands together. She points to the other teams, “You’re going down!” She laughs, but you can’t help but protest, “This is rigged! You guys and Wanda and Vision are the only real couples!! How is anyone else supposed to win?”
Tony shoots you a death glare but answers, “Cap and Natasha have definitely bumped uglies before. And you and Barnes are close friends. I thought that would make it more fair. But, I do expect to win.” You cross your arms, but accept his answer. Bucky finally looks at you, but it’s not friendly.
Sam comes out, wearing a suit Tony made him wear to host. “I’ll explain the rules. You all have a whiteboard, marker, and eraser. I will ask a question and you will write your answer on your boards. If your answer matches your partner’s you get a point. I’ll eliminate one couple each round until the final tie breaker.”
You take a deep breath. This is hell. But you do know Bucky better than anyone, so as long as he didn’t ask any crazy questions, you would be fine. “First question. Where is the craziest place you and your partner have had sex?” You freeze. Of course Stark had these wild questions. If you both answered the same, everyone would know that you had hooked up.
You think about lying, but decide the ball should be in Bucky’s court. You’ll answer correctly, and if he doesn’t you’ll know he doesn’t want anyone to know. You quickly scribble your answer, waiting on Sam to call on you. Tony’s answer is Steve’s room and Pepper’s matched. Everyone laughed while Steve said Tony has to pay for his room to be deep cleaned.
Wanda and Vision both answer “in the air.” Natasha and Steve said a table in the meeting room. You turn your board to reveal your answer and Bucky shows his. You look and see that he has answered correctly. “The quinjet?! Damn y’all are nasty!” Sam laughs.
You’re taken back to that moment. You, Bucky, and Bruce were on your way back from a mission. Bruce was driving the quinjet, but activated the mode Tony installed for breaks. As soon as he started snoring, Bucky led you to the bathroom. He took you against the wall, metal hand across your mouth to stifle your moans. It was one of the hottest things you’d ever done. Your suit clung to you in the worst ways after that. His cum dripping down your legs, it was nearly impossible to take off.
The others look at each other in surprise. Scott yells “I told you they were hooking up. No one believed me!” Sharon looks at Bucky so harshly that if looks could kill, he’d be dead. He just shrugs his shoulders. Of course, he would be hooking up with her. Why wouldn’t he? She was pretty and it had been three months since he ended things with you.
The next question was “Who hogs the covers more?” Everyone got it right except for Steve and Natasha. She said that wasn’t a fair question because they never actually slept when they were together. The round continued with four more questions. At the end, Steve and Natasha were eliminated because they had the least amount of points. The rest of you were tied.
“What is your partner’s pet name for you?” Sam asks. That’s easy, “doll”, you write. When you reveal your answers, Sharon looks furious. That must be what he calls her too. It stings, thinking of them together. You don’t have time to dwell on it before Sam asks the next question. “What is the highest number of orgasms your partner has given you in one night?” Your eyes widen, you know the answer, but you don’t know if he will remember.
Tony and Pepper answer three, Tony grins like the cocky asshole he is. Vision and Wanda answer two. Bucky raises his board, “Six?!” Sam shouts, “How were you guys fucking this much and nobody knew?” He laughs. The round surprisingly ends with Wanda and Vision getting eliminated.
But you’re busy thinking about that night. Bucky’s head between your thighs for hours. He barely came up for breath. You were sure he would smother, but he insisted. He didn’t stop until the sheets were soaked, your legs were shaking so hard, you’d immediately fall if you tried to stand up.
He had you screaming his name all night. When he finally started fucking you, he took his time, pulling another orgasm out of you before going back down for another taste. He finally came with you on top. He had to lift your limp body on him, using you like a sex doll. You couldn’t move if you needed too. It was the best sex you’d ever had.
“It’s time for the tie breaker question. Answers don’t have to match, the crowd will vote on the most romantic answers.” Sam states. “When did you know you were in love?” Tony and Pepper immediately begin writing. You’re certain you’re going to lose this one. Bucky was never in love with you. You write your answer, deciding to answer truthfully.
Tony and Pepper’s answers make you tear up, they are so in love. You can only hope you’ll find that one day. You and Bucky reveal your boards at the same time. You glance at his, his answer knocks the breath out of your lungs because it matches yours. The Avenger’s Barbecue. You lock eyes, his gaze softens as he reads your answer.
You’ll never forget such a pivotal moment in your life. All of the Avengers and Shield agents’ friends and family were invited to play games, eat, and have a good time. Emily, who helped coordinate your missions brought her husband and three young children. A baby girl, a two year old boy, and a five year old girl. The children were drawn to Bucky. The two older children swung from his metal arm while he held the baby with his other one.
The image made your ovaries explode. You couldn’t help imagining how he would be if you had kids. He laughed as they asked him a thousand questions, playing on him like a jungle gym. You knew without a doubt, you were in love.
Bucky took a deep breath when he read your answer. Why was it the same as his? Did you know? Was it a prank you were playing on him? Emily’s children were entranced with you from the moment they met you. He couldn’t blame them, he felt the same. They had played with him for an hour before the food was ready. When Tony told everyone to make a plate, you offered to watch the kids while she and her husband got their food.
Bucky watched as you comforted the crying infant. The two older children sat beside you while you read from a book the girl got from their bag. Bucky knew he was screwed. He could see a life like this so clearly. Your belly round with his baby, while you tended to your other children. He didn’t want to admit how badly he wanted that. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in love with you.
That night he made love to you, it was softer, slower than the other times he touched you. He knew you could tell the difference too. He placed one last kiss to your lips, willing himself to let you go. The next morning, he left for his two week mission with Sam. He convinced himself that it was for the best if he ended things. He didn’t want to hurt you. You might be okay with it now, but years later you would regret it.
You’d realize having the Winter Soldier for a husband wasn’t worth everything you would have to go through. Then Sharon started flirting with him after Steve rejected her. He hadn’t so much as hugged her, but she acted like she was entitled to him.
Everyone voted for Tony and Pepper to win. They were the real couple and it was their anniversary tomorrow. Tony was going to treat everyone to dinner for being such good sports. You got out of there as soon as it was over. You needed a nap before going to dinner. It was all too much for you. How the hell did you and Bucky make it so far in the game? Why did he have the same answer for the last question? You convince yourself that he knew how you felt.
That night changed everything. The sex was different. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear he was making love to you. He had to be messing with your head. Somehow you manage to fall asleep even with your thoughts racing.
You wake up two hours later, just enough time to get ready for dinner. You put on the little black dress Bucky loved. If he wants to play games, bring it on. You apply your perfume when a light knock sounds on your door. You would recognize the knock anywhere. “Come in” you call. Bucky walks in, his tight black t-shirt hugging him in the best ways.
“Hey doll, we need to talk.” You put your earrings in, anger surging through you. “Talk about what? How you were trying to humiliate me up there? How you’re banging Sharon now? There’s nothing to talk about. You should just go.”
“Humiliate you? What about me? How did you know the answer to the last question?” He demands, charging toward you. “I answered it truthfully, James. How did you know my answer?” You ask, hands on your hips. “I answered honestly too.” He confesses, his blue eyes sweeping over the swell of your breasts.
“Stop lying! I don’t see what the point is. We have been over for three months. Why are you doing this?” He shakes his head, “I was telling the truth. I realized I was in love with you when all those kids were sitting in your lap. I could see our life together. And I wanted it, the kids, the white picket fence, the big house, you.”
“Bucky, I wanted all that with you too. Seeing you playing with those kids made me realize it too.” You sigh, feeling relieved to finally get it off your chest. His lips crash into yours, hands moving at lightning speed to remove all of your clothing. You’re under him in seconds, panting against his lips as he rubs himself against you.
Bucky moans as he sinks into you. He’s always known deep down you were made for him, now he has no choice but to accept it. “I’m so in love with you.” He tells you between thrusts. You claw at his back, his confession almost sends you over the edge. “I am so in love with you, Buck.” You kiss him gently. “Say it again.” He smiles, as you get lost in each other.
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#bucky barnes smut#bucky imagine#bucky fic#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky#bucky fanfic#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes and reader#bucky and reader#bucky angst#bucky au#bucky fanfiction#bucky mcu#bucky marvel#bucky oneshot#bucky smut#bucky x yn smut#bucky x yn#bucky x reader smut#bucky x female yn#the newlywed game
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someone to stay
summary: bucky offers you solace as your mental fatigue rears its head.
pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader
warnings: angst, reader anxiety/depression, fluff, non-sexual nudity, a comforting buck <3
word count: 2.5k
a/n: this was inspired by my own issues right now because i definitely need it at the moment :’)
Getting out of bed was always the most difficult part of your day. Even when you were feeling okay, even when nothing was immediately wrong. You would wake up and stare into the void, blankets smothering your body and eyelids still heavy from the bit of sleep you’d managed to get.
There wasn’t anything pressing your anxiety, but having been out of your routine for a few weeks always left you feeling unmotivated. After having been sidelined from missions for a multitude of reasons—injuries, mental stability, and a dwindling success rate—you had nothing to do. None of your side hobbies entertained you long enough to keep you busy, so you fell into the same cycle. You sometimes wished you could sleep all day or even just stay stagnant in bed, but you knew it’d only make the fatigue worse.
Today, however, was not one of those days where you pushed yourself out of bed. Not bothered to check the time, you closed your eyes again. It was raining outside anyways, the perfect weather to stay cuddled in bed for. Soon enough, you found some sleep again, even if you’d regret it later.
Bucky, who was not sidelined from missions, had just come back from one, more than eager to see you. He was back earlier than expected, so he only figured you wouldn’t be in your usual spot waiting for him in the hangar of the compound. It was a bit past noon, so he assumed you were keeping busy elsewhere.
After a quick debrief, he made it to your shared room, only to be led to confusion at the curtains still drawn and all of the lights off. He knew how much you hated sleeping in too late, only ever sleeping past 9 if you were really exhausted and/or hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. Even then, you never let it get past 11 before you were up and out of bed.
Bucky knew you were taking your suspension a bit rougher than expected. He hated seeing you upset and he was even willing to skip out on a few missions to stay with you, but you’d insisted otherwise, saying “the bad guys don’t take breaks.”
He never liked leaving you. Most of your missions had the two of you together, SHIELD thinking you worked well together even outside of your relationship. Going on missions without you meant he was always stuck with some reckless, inexperienced agent who wasn’t half as skilled as you a lot of the time. It was why he only liked the ones where he was with Sam or Steve, at least not having to stress about saving anyone.
He missed you on every single one. Your quips, how satisfying it was to see you kick people’s asses, and how swiftly you did just about everything. But Bucky also knew you needed a break. Your anxiety was more rampant lately, and it was affecting all of your skills on the field. The decision to bench you didn’t come easy to anyone, but especially not you.
You honestly had little to no idea what had you so anxious to start with, but anything else that triggered your anxiety only amplified it. Bucky was so reluctant to let Steve suspend you, but after you got seriously injured on a mission for lack of attention, he couldn’t argue against it anymore.
“You can’t be serious,” you said to Steve, tears in your eyes. “I’ve been injured so many times, why does that even matter?”
“It’s not just the injury,” Steve countered. “You’ve been off your game. I can’t risk losing one of our best members because you’re distracted.”
“I’m not dis—”
“You being distracted is how you ended up with a broken arm and a head injury,” he cut you off, making you look away from him. “You’re gonna end up dead if you keep on like this. I can’t deal with that loss, and neither can Bucky.”
Snapping your gaze back at Steve, you scoffed.
“So this is about Bucky?”
“This is about you, Y/n,” Steve said, his tone slightly more irritated. “He begged me not to bench you, said you just needed some time but even he knows putting you on the field again is risking your life.”
Wiping your tears away, you said nothing in response. You knew he was right, but the last thing you needed was to give in. It’d make you crumble, it’d make this whole situation real and you knew where you’d end up.
Your conversation ended when Bucky walked in the room.
It was the right decision after all. However, Bucky’s chest ached knowing how low you were feeling. Knowing that you were doing everything just to get by, yet nothing at all. He hadn’t seen you in a melancholy state for years, but it always scared him. He barely made it out of his own episodes sometimes, panic manifesting through his bones. His worry only worsened at the thought of not being able to pull you from the darkness, the way you’d done so for him many times.
Seeing you under the sheets, sound asleep past noon didn’t settle Bucky’s own anxiety. He was out on this mission for eight days, but you’d sounded okay when you spoke to him over the phone every night.
Were you not getting any sleep? Were you falling asleep really late? Or was your current funk really getting to you?
Bucky set his duffel bag on the floor, shutting the door behind him. He decided against opening the curtains until you were awake, sitting on the edge of the bed next to your sleeping body, placing his flesh hand on your cheek gently.
“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning down and kissing your forehead a few times. “Let me see those pretty eyes, doll.”
Furrowing your eyebrows before peeling your eyes open, you were greeted with your favorite super soldier, a smile creeping on your face.
“Hi,” you said groggily, Bucky kissing your forehead again. “You’re back early.”
“Got the job done quickly,” he fed your curiosity. “What are you still doing asleep, doll? Are you okay?”
“What time is it?” You said, still unmotivated to get up from your lying position.
“Almost 1,” Bucky answered before your eyes widened and you sat up, frantic about how the morning got away from you. “Hey, hey,” Bucky placed his hands on your shoulder, easing the tension a bit. “It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with oversleeping once in a while.”
You shook your head, avoiding Bucky’s gaze as you rubbed your eyes. “I shouldn’t have slept that long.”
Bucky pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then your cheek, then pulled your hands away from your eyes. The bags under them didn’t go without notice, Bucky getting more worried than earlier. He knew you weren’t sleeping well, and him not being here to soothe you must have made it worse.
“Is everything okay?” He asked again, never getting an answer from you.
You sighed. “I don’t really know, I’m just- I’m always tired and don’t wanna do anything even though I know I shouldn’t just stay in bed. I was gonna wake up early today to see if I could get moving but then I barely slept and thought a few more hours could be useful but now—”
“Shh,” Bucky said, pulling you into his embrace, rubbing your back softly. “There is still a lot of time left in the day, but I don’t mind sleeping this Sunday away with you after the mission I just had.” He kissed the top of your head a few times. “We can shower then eat and then rest. Sounds good?”
You nodded, with a muffled ‘okay’ into his chest before pulling away, Bucky standing and grasping your hand in his to head to the bathroom.
Bucky turned the shower on, letting it run to get warm before turning back to you. After you helped Bucky take his tac suit off, he helped you shed your pajamas. The both of you took your underwear off, Bucky checking the water before you stepped in.
You always enjoyed showering with Bucky, most after a mission when you were both tired. Though this was different since you weren’t the one coming home, the sentiment of being tired remained the same.
Bucky could tell you were tense, that something was still bothering you. He never wanted to pry, so he massaged the tension out of your shoulders, getting you to relax your posture a bit. You both worked your way around lathering each other with soap, your eyes doing their usual routine of scanning Bucky’s body for any cuts and bruises. Bucky decided to wash your hair, finding any means of making you feel relaxed. You sighed under his touch, leaning your head forward to rest against his chest as he rinsed your hair.
“Steve mentioned you going back on the field again,” Bucky eased into the conversation. “You feeling up for it?” Much to Bucky’s surprise, you shook your head, prompting him to lift your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You know you can talk to me.”
Sighing again, you leaned into his touch. “I’m not ready.”
“I thought you wanted to get back,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows.
“I do,” you nodded. “But I just feel so… out of it. Like my mind is out of fuel and it’s putting my body on pause. I have no energy lately, I don’t really know what’s wrong with me.”
Bucky looked at you, a hint of sorrow in his eyes. He’d been there, where his body was craving one thing but his mind just never allowed him to satisfy any of his desires. Depression didn’t always look the same, but he could tell when it was starting to consume you.
The restless nights, the fatigue, the lack of energy and motivation. It was a stark contrast to your usual, productive self. Sometimes Bucky would have to slow you down for doing too many things at once, so it pained him to see you not want to do anything at all.
He decided right then and there he’d take a pause from any missions until you were okay. Until he could see the spark in your eye again, the pep in your step. The energy being revitalized.
“It happens, baby,” he reassured. “You’ve helped me through some of my funks, so let me help you out of yours, hm?”
“You don’t have to, Bucky,” you shook your head, but he shushed you, a chaste kiss placed on your lips. “I’m serious, you don’t have to pause your life for me. People still need help and I’ll get out of my fatigue stint eventually, so—”
“You know you’re not gonna convince me otherwise, right?” He shut you up again, offering you a smirk and another peck to the lips. “I would drop everything for you. At any time, on any day, at any given moment. You are my world, doll. If you’re not okay, then my world isn’t okay.”
“But what if they really need you—”
“They won’t,” Bucky grabbed the comb to detangle your hair. “Now come on, let me help you ease your mind, hm?”
Knowing you couldn’t say no to him, you turned so your back was facing him, Bucky smoothly getting any knots out of your hair.
He knew how much you loved it when he did your hair, knowing the process was super long and you didn’t want to do it half of the time. When he first heard you complain about having to do it, he made you teach him your whole routine for whenever you were feeling unmotivated to. It was one of many things he eagerly learned for you, always wanting to pamper you.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed over the fact that you had him back, here with you as he did everything in his power to clear your head from the anxious thoughts, you couldn’t help but tear up.
When he finished detangling your hair, holding it up with a clip, he saw you crying, quickly pulling you in his arms, kissing you everywhere he could.
“I’m here, sweetheart,” he said, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Once he let you return the favor of washing his hair, you made him sit on the built-in bench in the shower so you wouldn’t have to reach up the whole time.
Bucky loved touching you, but he swore to everything that he loved your touch even more. Your hands were so soft and gentle, with each lather and rinse of his head.
“Your hair’s getting long again,” you said, running your fingers through Bucky’s brown locks, the length now passing his ear. “Are you gonna cut it?”
Bucky shrugged, his hands finding comfort in your waist as you stood in front of him. He placed a kiss on each of your hips then your stomach before looking up at you.
“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered before standing, kissing your lips again. He knew how much you liked his short hair when he first cut it, but deep down you loved his long hair too. You just never forced him to keep one or the other, knowing how many memories his hair held.
Bucky loved how well you knew him, how well you understood him. It was the main reason why he took his time to do the same for you.
Once you were both out of the shower and dressed, Bucky picked up his phone to order some food. You’d told him you were craving Chinese the night before on your phone call while he was away, so he ordered all of your favorites as you finished drying your hair in the bathroom.
After eating dinner, Bucky slid under the covers of your shared bed, extending his metal arm for you to grab as you slid in next to him. Your head found its usual spot on his chest, both of his arms encasing you in the pressure you sought so many times, your left leg over his right one.
“Thank you,” you said softly as Bucky rubbed your back just the way you liked it. “For never judging me.”
“I would never plan to,” he said, using his right hand to lift your chin up. “We’re human. We have our moments where we need a break, a reset. You taught me that when I needed to hear it. Don’t think that it excludes you, my love.”
Leaning up, you pressed your lips against his in a soft kiss that said more than enough.
Pulling away, you looked into those blue eyes that meant the world to you.
“What would I do without you?”
“Force yourself to do your hair routine every week,” Bucky joked, making you roll your eyes playfully with a smirk.
You pressed a kiss on his chest before laying your head on it again. “I love you.”
“I love you more, doll,” he said, massaging your scalp to soothe you until you fell asleep.
Bucky could watch you be this peaceful forever, vowing to spend the rest of his days making sure you were okay. He always knew you’d return the favor, enjoying every moment spent with you like this, comforted best in his arms.
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky angst#bucky barnes x you#bucky x female reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff
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Boom Clap
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 1,063
Summary: Before tonight you wouldn't have been able to label your relationship with Bucky but after he gets home earlier than expected from a mission and shows up at the bar everything changes.
Author's Note: Just because, I love him and this look ends me every time and it's lightly based on this song Boom Clap by Charli XCX. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you 🥰
Warnings: it's just Bucky being irresistible and soft too
“Well, something clearly more interesting than this conversation is going on in your mind. Would you like to share it with the rest of us?”
Two pairs of glittering eyes stare at you, twin knowing smiles gracing your friend’s lips and you frantically try to recall what the three of you had been discussing.
“There’s only one thing that can be giving her that look,” Nat laughs. “A man.”
“And not just any,” Wanda adds.
“Bucky,” both women say simultaneously and with devious grins.
You sip your drink to hide your smile.
“You must miss him since he’s been away on the mission all week,” Wanda muses.
You don’t say it but you do miss him. A lot.
“So what exactly is going on with you two?” Nat asks
With a nonchalant shrug you sip your drink again and try to figure out how to label your relationship with Bucky. Your friends wait, expressions expectant but playful.
If you had a definitive answer you would share it but ever since the two of you started hanging out neither of you had given it a label. You were just enjoying each other. In every way. You were happy being with him, that much of which you were sure.
“Umm…” you start.
That’s the only word you get out before you see Wanda and Nat’s drinks pause halfway to their mouths. Their eyes are trained on something just beyond your shoulder, toward the entrance of the bar.
Several other women at the bar pause their own conversation and you sense the shift in energy.
He’s here.
You place your drink down on the bar and turn. Bucky stands just inside the doorway, his black jacket draped over his broad shoulders and his covetous blue eyes focused on you.
Awareness races across your skin coupled with a heat only he can set ablaze. Your pulse quickens and you fight the urge to run into his arms.
He wears all black, from his tight fitted shirt down to his leather boots and his strong jaw is shadowed with dark hair. When he walks toward you at the bar, he moves with such sensual purpose that you notice another woman swooning.
He looks hungry and determined.
And he’s here for you.
You reach out and grab your drink, downing it in one long sip.
Without removing his gaze from yours, he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, turning it over and kissing the inside of your wrist, then your palm, then finally, your fingertips.
This time, you hear the breath woosh from Nat and Wanda but Bucky shows no reaction, appearing oblivious to anything else but you.
“Guess he’s back,” Nat whispers to Wanda. You barely catch the words as Bucky consumes your every thought.
“I missed you doll,” he whispers against your wrist.
“I missed you too,” you reply breathlessly.
He lowers your hand from his mouth and keeps hold of it between your bodies. With a soft tug he brings you closer, leaning into your neck and whispering along the shell of your ear.
“Come home with me?”
“You don’t even have to ask,” you murmur.
“Yes, I do doll. I would never take you for granted.”
Your free hand slides up his chest to his jaw, tracing the outline before you softly press your lips to his. His eyes fluttered closed and he breathes you in.
“I’m just going to use the restroom and say goodbye to Nat and Wanda. Meet you back here in five.”
“Hurry,” he murmurs, letting his eyes sparkle with words of unspoken want.
You rush off toward the bathroom, Nat and Wanda right behind you and after relieving yourself and filling your friends in you search for Bucky’s tall figure.
You find him standing at the bar, taking to someone. As you get closer, you see that the woman is standing close enough to brush against him. Unable to see Bucky’s face, you watch as she runs a hand along his arm with a gentle squeeze of his bicep, smiling at him flirtatiously.
Your heart drops into your stomach and you feel your eyes well with unshed tears but you can’t stop your forward movement. Bucky’s face comes into view. His eyes aren’t on the woman but furiously scanning the room. He looks uncomfortable, backing away from her and saying something you can’t hear.
You consider turning and running out but that wouldn’t be fair. You and Bucky have no official label, have never agreed to be exclusive. You can’t even blame the other woman for approaching him. He’s impossible to resist. You should know.
But then his eyes meet yours and you see all the emotions rushing through them, but mostly you see relief.
Taking a deep breath, you continue to walk forward. Bucky holds his arm out, his eyes begging you to walk into his embrace.
You slide into his side in time to hear him say, “here she is. This is my…”
“Girlfriend,” you finish, smiling and extending your hand with your name. “Nice to meet you.”
“Wow, lucky girl,” the woman says as she shakes your hand. “You deserve an award for landing a man like this.”
“I don’t need an award. I’ve got him,” you say as you reach down and take his left hand in yours.
Your eyes meet Bucky’s. “Ready to take me home Buck?”
“Always doll.”
Your hand stays tightly tucked in Bucky’s as you walk down the street toward his apartment. You turn toward him, the warm breeze caressing your skin and the city lights dancing in your eyes. His breath catches in his throat as your lips spread into a wide and reassuring smile.
He stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk and pulls you flush against his chest, his eyes wandering over your face.
“Are you really mine?” he asks as he dips his head. “You’re really my girl?”
“Yours Bucky. I have been from the beginning.”
His fingers spread across your lower back and he slowly drags his hand along the curve of your spine, every inch he covers pressing you closer against him until he reaches your neck and traces the delicate column before cradling your cheek.
He sweeps his thumb along your skin and holds your lips just centimeters from his, whispering, “mine,” as his eyes close and his mouth captures yours.
@randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @goldylions @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnesx fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader
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