#plant!dad Bucky

[jobean12-blog]

Rooted in Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Plant!Dad Bucky and he's beefy!)

Word Count: 1,740

Summary: You and Bucky run into each other (literally) while plant shopping.

Author's Note: So a few days ago a friend shared the amazing art done by @nalonzooo and I immediately fell in love with her plant!dad bucky! Please go check out her page, it will just make you so happy! Her art was the inspo for this story and will be for the rest of this Universe- which I already plan to do more of! Thank you all so much for reading and thank you @nalonzooo for sharing your beautiful work! And thank you to my lovely friends @witchywithwhiskey @vonalyn and @biteofcherry for your support and help! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: Fluffy sweet fluff, plants and Alpine!

You hand the money to the cashier with a smile and gently cradle your new plant to your body before walking off toward the car. You’re not paying attention to where you’re going because you’re looking down and cooing over your new friend, a spider plant, whom you’ve aptly named Spidey.

Suddenly the sun goes out of view and a shadow falls over you just before you walk straight into what feels like a wall.

“Oof, shit,” you mutter, juggling your spider plant and thankfully managing to hold on to it. “I’m sorry!” you quickly add, now looking up.

You can barely see the person behind all the green leaves and fronds but you do hear a deep voice say, “no doll, I’m sorry! I can barely see where I’m going and should probably have gotten a cart. Are you ok?”

Your giggle escapes without warning but you assure him you’re fine.

“Um, do you want some help? I only have one plant so I can take one or two off your hands.”

He stands there for a moment, clearly contemplating you’re offer. “You know what, that would be great!” he says finally. “Can you grab the two smaller ones here.”

His body shifts so you can take two plants that are resting precariously on his forearm.

“Sure!”

You reach over and carefully take them from him, revealing something you were not at all expecting. 

There’s a fluffy white cat curled up in the crook of his arm, it’s blue eyes peering at you with curiosity.

“Oh how cute!” you squeal.

Plant guy chuckles. “That’s Alpine. He’s very friendly so you can say hi if you want.”

Your hand immediately shoots out to rub Alpine gently on the head and then scratch behind his ears.

“He’s so sweet and handsome,” you gush.

After several moments spent doting on Alpine you realize poor plant guy is still standing there holding way too many plants.

“Oh shit,” you mumble. “I’m sorry! You’re totally standing here waiting to go to your car and carrying a whole forest and here I am just petting your cat like it’s nothing.”

“It’s really ok doll,” he says. “I appreciate the help and Alpine loves the attention.”

You try to peek around the large leaves to get a look at this guy’s face but you can’t really make out more than a black hat and the outline of a dark shadow of hair lining his sculpted jaw.

But when he says, “my car is just over here,” and he starts walking to the parking lot you get a better glimpse of the rest of him and can’t help the way your breath hitches.

“Damn…” you whisper to yourself.

He’s tall, with long thick legs and broad shoulders and an ass you already want to grab hold of.

“Well,” he starts. “My keys are in my back pocket and uh…”

You put the plants you’re holding down onto the pavement and hold out your hands. “Here give me a couple more this way you can free up a hand.”

“Good idea,” he says with a chuckle. “I was about to ask you to reach into my pocket but that wouldn’t be appropriate before at least a date right?”  

You bite your lip to stifle your laugh, thinking that you wouldn’t have minded at all.

As you take three more plants from him you get a clear view of his face and you can’t help but stare.

Sparkling blue eyes meet yours, framed by long, dark lashes and as your gaze sweeps over the rest of his face you realize he’s literally gorgeous.

“Hi,” you say far too breathily.                                                                                

“Hey doll,” he answers with a megawatt smile but seemingly oblivious to your obvious appreciation as he opens the trunk and starts to place the plants down.

As he’s lightening the load of foliage Alpine starts to crawl up his arm until he’s settled comfortably on his shoulder.

Once his hands are free he extends one to you. “I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you repeat, then give him your name. “How did you get that from James?”

He huffs out a laugh. “James Buchanan Barnes is my full name and my family shortened the middle and stuck with it.”

“That makes sense then,” you say lightly.

“Thanks again for the help. I’d probably still be wandering around the parking lot looking for my car if it weren’t for you,” he admits, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“Glad I could help,” you say, meaning it. “You must have a lot of space for all these.”

You sweep your arm out, motioning to his trunk full of plants.

“Yeah, well…I mean sorta. It’s kinda gettin’ like a Tetris game, but I’ll make it work.”

He looks down at your feet, just now noticing your plant.

“I see you got a spider plant,” he says. “New plant parent?”

You nod before starting to bend down and pick it up. He stops you with a soft hand to your shoulder. “I’ll get it and let me walk you to your car at least.”

He grabs the plant and you see Alpine cling tighter to his shirt and shoulder. A few strands of hair fall loose from his hat and around his ear and when he stands again Alpine starts batting at them.

You cover your mouth, hoping your giggle won’t be heard but Bucky narrows his eyes playfully before explaining, “this cat is a menace.”

“Does he behave around all your plants?” you ask. “I bet they’re fun to bat around.”

You start to walk toward your car which is on the other side of the parking lot, chatting as you go.

“Actually, he does. I rescued him when he was just a kitten and started collecting plants around the same time so he’s used to them and knows he’s not allowed to mess around.”

You reach up and give Alpine a soft pat, cooing at him before you continue.

“I really hope I don’t kill this one,” you sigh, now glancing over at Spidey. “I love plants but they don’t love me.”

“That was me too,” he tells you. “It actually took me two spider plants before I got the hang of it. I still feel bad about the first two.”

“This is my third,” you say quietly, making a face. “Third plant. Not spider plant specifically. But to be fair the first two were definitely not starter plants. I don’t know what I was thinking…well, I do. They were really pretty, with these beautiful flowers- I love flowers- and I wanted them so…”

“I get it doll,” he says, “we all like pretty things.”

He looks at you, holding your stare and when you smile knowingly you see the pink creep along his cheeks again.

“So how many plants do you have?” you ask with a smirk.

“Umm,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s see…I mean there’s the kitchen and that’s probably one, two, three, four…and then the living room…one, two, three, four, five…” he continues on, talking mostly to himself as he counts and lifts his left hand to finish.

You notice he’s wearing a leather glove and when he’s done getting his final count he looks from you to where your eyes are focused.

“So if I’m counting right that’s over twenty-five plants,” he says sheepishly. “And uh…old war injury.” He twinkles the fingers on his left hand at you with a lopsided smirk.

“A plant connoisseur and a war hero,” you say, hoping your tone comes off as genuine as you mean it. “And you have the best cat!”

He brightens at your words and tugs Alpine from his shoulder, cradling him in the crook of his arm. His tight Henley does nothing to hide the bulge of his bicep and the best you can do is try to focus on how cute the cat is so you don’t blurt out any of the lascivious thoughts racing through your mind.

“He is the best cat!” Bucky boasts.

Bucky leans closer to you, as if he’s telling you a deep, dark secret, his voice low. “I have this plant on my balcony that attracts a lot of butterflies and he’s so good that he won’t even try to swat at them. He just sits on my chair and watches them all afternoon! But never goes after one.”

“Best. Cat. Ever.” You proclaim, scratching under Alpine’s chin. “And I bet they are beautiful to watch.”

“If you love flowers you’d love the plants on my balcony!” he says excitedly. “It’s like a rainbow. And I have this indoor desert rose plant that’s just incredible and my gardenia’s not only look amazing but they smell amazing too.”

Your smile only grows as he continues chattering on about all his flowering plants but he must realize he’s been rambling because he suddenly trails off and his eyes get wide.

“Oh man,” he stammers. “Shit, doll. I’m sorry. That was a lot.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“I don’t mind at all,” you tell him honestly. “I think it’s wonderful. Actually, I’m hoping you can give me some tips to keep Spidey alive.”

You pat the plant pot and then delicately rub one of the long, thin leaves.

“Spidey,” he says with a big smile. “I love that. And I name mine too.”

“Phew,” you say. “Thought I was going to be the weird one on that.”

“Tell you what,” he says. “I’d love to help you keep Spidey alive but only if you agree to meet me for coffee this weekend.”

You tap your finger to your chin, pretending to think it over. “What do you think Alpine?”

The cat blinks at you then meows loudly.

“He said you should,” Bucky interjects. “That was definitely a yes.”

“In that case, definitely a yes,” you say.

“That’s great doll!” Bucky replies with a grin. “How about Saturday?”

“Sounds perfect.”

After you exchange numbers and agree on a coffee shop between your two apartments you say goodbye.

“Thanks again for your help and I’m really looking forward to our coffee date,” he says, then clamps his mouth shut.

He stares at you with wide eyes again. “I uh…I didn’t mean date…what I meant was…”

“It’s ok,” you say softly, stepping closer and kissing his cheek. “I’m looking forward to our date too.”

@randomfandompenguin @book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @sebstanwhore @goldylions @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @lookiamtrying

[jbankai89]

Hey I have opened an Etsy shop! Mugs, Totes, and T-Shirts:

Please share!

[arpicityandneed]

Asking for a friend re: dark content Bucky, are we talking Bucky-Bucky, or like, are you also down with some Winter Soldier? Because WOW what a great look. Scared my ovaries so good.

Like, imagine the Soldier gets a bodyguard assignment to the daughter or wife of some SHIELD official. You're annoyed about having this mostly silent, kind of unsettling hottie shadow you constantly. So you get bratty, act out to try and crack that ice wall. "Kay fine, you need to keep an eye on me, I'll leave the door open to shower!" or "hey they said to pretend you're not even here, guess that means I can masturbate!" And you're not really sure what you expected to come of it, but it definitely wasn't getting railed because you managed to wake up half a century of repressed lust.

author's note: I mean all the dark content, Winter Soldier, Bucky-Bucky, dubcon, incest, all the good stuff. please ref my rules and guidelines <3

18+ Dark Content. Winter Soldier!Bucky. brat!reader. dirty talk. creampie. dubcon (mainly 'cause hydra). rough sex.

"Новая миссия Солдат." New mission, Soldat. The HYDRA handler handed the assassin the file, your seductive smirk in your profile photo making his stomach tighten. The sensation was new to him. But his response was the same it always was, a low husky rasp with no intonation.

"готов подчиниться." Ready to comply.

~

You didn't like your new bodyguard.

No matter how hot he was, he never spoke two words to you. All you got was da or net. He followed you everywhere and carried your bags and never seemed to sleep. You knew your dad was important to some big guys, but to think it would mean you'd be stuck with this ghost of a man with no way to sneak off wasn't what you had in mind.

He was just a big, hunking, idiot. With a metal arm. (You may have had a thing for the metal arm.)

He wouldn't let you drink since you were technically only 20, and killed any party just by standing there- not dancing, not moving, just watching you with his icy blue eyes.

It made you want to crack that perfect control he had.

"So you're really not going to leave that spot while I shower." You looked up at him as he stood at the threshold of the large ensuite bathroom in the hotel you were staying at while your father was having a business meeting.

"Da." He didn't smile, didn't frown. His handsome face was just always deadpan.

"Then I guess its not a problem if I leave the door open right?" You grinned, impish and bold as you started stripping. You new you looked good. It was the utter shamelessness of it all that had the Soldat's eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Bending over to drag your panties down your legs, letting him see your bare pussy before unhooking your bra. You sighed with relief as your breasts bounced free.

"Be a good boy and do what daddy paid you for. Watch me." You grinned when you saw him take a step towards you, your pussy gushing as you imagined him grabbing you and fucking you senseless. But he seemed to remember himself and stepped back. Firmly planting both feet and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Coward~." You sang as you stepped into the shower leaving the door open, its glass side walls fogging up as you lathered up your body. Touching every inch of yourself as slowly as possible making damn sure he could follow your hands with his eyes. His pupils were blown wide but it was the only sign he as affected.

You'd have to try harder.

~

"Ah!"

The Soldat was in your room in an instant the next morning even though you never heard the door unlock or open. He was ready for a threat, door locked so there was one less escape route for any intruders.

But all he found was you, on the bed with your legs spread- naked as the day you were born. A pathetic excuse for a plastic cock sliding in and out of your gummy walls as you fucked yourself over and over. One tiny hand was twisting your nipple and you were crying out loudly with every intention of making sure he could hear.

"Fuck!" You moaned as you met his eyes, pure mischief in your gaze. "Shouldn't be a problem, right Soldat? Just, nngh, watch me."

You never even saw him move, but suddenly he was on you. Snatching the dildo and dragging it out of your pussy before throwing it across the room.

"Этого будет недостаточно для такой шлюхи как ты." That won't be enough for a slut like you. He growled as he quickly undid his zipper, you barely had a glimpse of his girthy length before he was lining himself up. He didn't even bother to take off his tactical suit before fucking into your slick hole in one overwhelming thrust. It knocked the air out of your lungs.

"M-more!" You whined as you clawed at his back uselessly, your tiny pussy stretched almost painfully wide as you strangled his cock.

"Заткнись и возьми это." Shut up and take it. He was hissing in your ear with ever balls deep thrust, groaning as he felt pleasure for the first time in over 30 years. Your pussy was heaven he was sure. And he was never letting you go.

Every squelch and slap of his hips on your ass filled the room until it was a symphony of decauhery. You were being used, and somehow the knowledge made your blood burn with desire.

"Use me, fuck, cum in me please-" you begged as you felt your orgasm growing. The blunt head of his cock was dragging against the spot inside you that you'd barely been able to reach with the dildo. Your eyes were crossing every time his fat cock bottomed out inside you, and you knew you were going to cum harder than you ever had before.

"Просто теплое м��сто которое я могу использовать по своему усмотрению." Just a warm place for me to use. He purred the words in your ear, and you cried out when you felt his skilled fingers making quick tight circles over your sensitive clit.

You bit down on his throat, the only skin you could reach to stop yourself from screaming as you gushed around his cock. (It was only later, much later when you were being interrogated about where the Asset had gone, that you realized the bastard had made you squirt.)

His grip on your hip became bruisingly tight but you didn't care, not when his thrusts were getting sloppy.

"Do it, cum in me, get me pregnant I don't care just-" His other hand, still slick with your juices slapped over your mouth as he growled at you.

"Я сделаю тебя матерью. Я сделаю тебя своей." I'll make you a mother. I'll make you mine.

You shivered, not understanding anything but the possessiveness in his tone. Your hole clenching around him and he was done for.

His load was endless. He fucked you through it, stuffing his seed as deep inside as his cock could reach. In your lustful haze you realized you truly wouldn't mind having the child of a man like him. You knew he'd protect you both if it ever came to that.

You must have fallen asleep after that because when you came to the window was open, and there was a pillow under your hips.

He was gone.

(pt 2?)

[jobean12-blog]

I cant love these more! 😍👏🏻❤️

congratulations 🌱✨

thank you to @bride-ofquiet for the excellent meme 💓

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 2)

Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 3900+

A/N Note: You guys... Thank you for the overwhelming support on this series. You guys are the sweetest :) I've loved reading your series and promise I love them; just haven't had the chance to respond! Again, thank you for the love, as it's all turned back to you!

As for the chapter... Let's make it more fun (otherwise known as interesting) ;)

_________________

Bucky’s POV

Hidden bugs weren’t new business to us, so after disposing of the picture frame, they gifted us with a note saying, “For your new home, and your first picture in it! ;)”... It was an easy ‘accidental’ drop. 

However, quickly after that, wouldn’t you know it? A new basket showed up on our porch with another set of welcome-to-the-neighborhood gifts from the whole neighborhood this time…

Y/N had ‘accidentally’ placed the newly potted plant, that they had somehow added a very impressively hidden camera on, too close to the edge of the entryway table, so when she came through the door quickly with her arms full of more boxes, the pot was no longer usable. Shame… We did buy our own pot for said plant, so we still got a new piece of greenery without the bugs. 

After those two failed attempts, we hoped our show of clumsiness warded off the assholes and made us less intimidating. And yes, I use that word because I could read easily from our first meeting that they were sizing us up. Analyzing our act and manipulating themselves into our lives in a careful yet planned manner. 

For extra measure on the clumsy showcase, Y/N drove into the trashcans I had forgotten to pull to the curb, making a public display of her character’s clumsiness. Though I later learned she was actually just pissed that I forgot to put them out and found a way for me to pay the consequences in our squabble on the lawn. 

A squabble that started out a hundred percent authentic and then turned into a fake makeup season when the neighbors peaked their heads out. 

“This jughead would forget his head if it weren’t on his shoulders,” Y/N slapped my chest before patting it harshly and smiling at the seventy-year-old next-door neighbor, Gertrude, who always happened to find her rose bushes interesting, only when people were outside. 

She smiled and laughed at Y/N’s wide grin before waving her on as she snipped a few thorns. 

“God, I hate it here,” Y/N said through her teeth, holding her fake smile as she walked past me into the house.

A few more preplanned acts happened while we were outside to show the community that our accidental breaking of their bugs was just that—accidental. It was not planned and discovered at all. 

It had been two weeks so far, and we’d already been invited to a food truck social, a street parade for a family leaving the neighborhood, and an outdoor movie night. All events you would have thought had the same planning committee as the MET Gala with how thorough they were… At least, that's what Y/N said, and I choose to believe that it holds some form of significance.

Tonight, we went over to another couple's house that was high up in the HOA group for a neighborhood barbeque, one where Y/N’s damn lilac tennis dress she had worn to workout with a neighbor, made more than half the dads and men too old and married to be staring, struggle to keep their eyes off her. 

I had told her that keeping a hand on her during most of the party was for the act, but genuinely, I didn’t care for how the men of the group gawked at her. Something gave me a bad feeling about it. And I didn’t understand why Y/N wasn’t phased at all or even slightly uneasy, considering she was just as trained as me to assess and sense all that attention.

As soon as we were behind closed doors back in our secure home, my first question was, “Did you really not feel their eyes on you?” 

She was in the middle of taking off her shoes, talking about some information she had gotten from a group of stay-at-home wives, something related to our mission, but I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around how unphased she was with the unnerving type of attention she was getting there. 

“What?” She paused as she bent to take off a tennis shoe. 

“All those guys, the husbands, and pervs at the cookout. You didn’t notice them staring at you?” I asked again, rolling my sleeves of button-down I had on up to my elbow.

She stared at me for a moment and then rolled her eyes as if she had figured out where I was going with this. Spoiler: she was far off the mark. 

“Listen, if you’re saying that thanks to this dress, which, yes, is a little short, but who the hell cares, is the reason why men were,” she straightened, kicking off both her shoes fluently, now only in socks. “Gawking at me, as you put it-.” 

“I didn’t say that,” I straightened, furrowing my eyebrows. 

“Oh, but you did,” she sassed with a shrug, continuing. “Under your breath when you came up, and you staked your claim by never taking your arm away from my waist for the night.”

“I didn’t say that,” I shook my head. I said it in my head, but I hadn’t said that out loud… Had I?

“Ugh, whether you did or didn’t, I could tell you were judging,” she huffed, rolled her shoulders, and walked past me to the kitchen, going straight to the fridge.

It took me a minute, but I figured out where her mind had gone. “I was judging them, Y/N,” I  shook my head. “I was judging the horny, married, and dusty-ass men that couldn’t keep their damn tongue from falling to the floor with you in the vicinity. Like their wives had deprived them of any kind of physical touch for the last decade, and they couldn’t keep it in their pants any longer.” 

I realized I may have explained more of my thought process than I intended, but she shut the fridge door she had hidden behind and turned to me, scanning, assessing. 

“You were jealous.” The corner of her lip raised at her statement. 

“What?” I scoffed. “No, loser,” I scoffed again, and clearly, I wasn’t selling my answer because she didn’t lose her growing grin. “I just took notice of how much attention you got, and it concerned me that the ideas most of those men were having were far from civil ones.” 

She stared at me for a minute, and I felt uncomfortable in my own skin as she weighed her options regarding how she wanted to react. We still had plenty of fights, but they have been somewhat decreasing lately, and I was hoping we could keep that streak going.

Her assessing stopped, and her grin grew again. “Awe, the Tinman does have a heart.”

And she ruined it. Surprise, surprise. 

“It’s sweet that you care, old man,” she twisted the lid to the drink she had pulled out of the fridge and took a swig before looking at me. “But that’s just a day in the life of a woman. Nothing new to me or anyone with the double X chromosomes.” She shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I mean, obviously, people look at you,” I started, and she balanced her elbows on the counter before resting her chin on her fist. I continued before I realized my wording. “Before you-”

“Obviously?” She emphasized my word choice. “Keeping notes on an awful lot of things lately, huh, Buck?” she whispered my name like it was a secret, and I knew it was for the odd case someone could hear us, but something about her tone made my chest freeze. “Tell me, what else do you notice…?” She tilted her head one way as she stared at me. 

I wasn’t going to lie and say her words didn’t flustered me, but as a reflex, I jumped back into the normal banter.

“You’re not funny, jackass,” I deadpanned and turned on my heel to walk away.

“Oh, stop being such a baby,” she shouted after me, and I heard her sock-clad feet slide on the hardwoods to catch up with me. “Listen, I think it’s nice you’re taking notice of stuff like this. Most men never pay attention to those kinds of things because they don’t have to. It’s not really a normal day-to-day experience for them, so they don’t get it. They don’t HAVE to get it.”

I stopped and turned in my march, and she slid into me from just two steps behind me. I caught her easily, bracing my hands on her biceps to steady her. She let out a huff of air as our chests flushed to each other and then looked up at me. 

“You’re murder strut is too fast for me to keep up with,” she mumbled, scrunching her nose in a relaxed way. 

I closed my eyes for a minute but didn’t let go of her before I channeled back my seriousness. 

“I’ve learned men are assholes, trust me. In this field, we come across some of the worst misogynistic weasels to exist. Wear whatever you want. You have scary dog privileges now. The attire issue isn't what I was getting at,” I replied, thinking of the reference the Parker kid had explained to me recently.

Her smile was unlike any I had the pleasure to be on the receiving end of, and I immediately mentally captured it, worried that I’d never experience the genuineness she was sharing with me in this moment again. 

“Scary dog privileges, huh? Someone’s been brushing up on their TikTok trends.” She laughed, scanning my face as I scanned hers. “Peter finally invested in his version of Duolingo? This one labeled new-age-slang-for-100-years-and-older?”

“Actually called, Born-in-1910’s-and-on-the-comeback-of-a-70-year-coma-new-age-lingo. Very helpful,” I retorted, and the surprise on her face as she laughed at me made my grip on her soften, my thumb unconsciously running over the bone on her wrist. 

The action brought both of our eyes to the feeling, and in the next second, we had three feet between us. 

“I’m going to go take a shower.” Her rush to get around me in the narrow hall caused her to brush along my arm, and it was like the sparks that ignited when I held her tried to reach out for each other again in the brief contact. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” I grumbled, walking quickly in the opposite direction. 

____________________

Y/N’s POV

The last two weeks have been frustrating, but somehow, Bucky and I have learned we work together surprisingly well. We still had our bickering fights and annoying quarrels, but stick us in a house for a few weeks, and we realized we did well at balancing each other out. 

Where I hated doing the dishes, he made sure they were done every night. Where he hated doing laundry, I folded and sorted the linens and clothes. I hated cooking, and he somehow was really good at it. I loved to bake when we had free time, and he loved to taste test. I sucked at most things gardening-wise, and he had shown me how to prune overgrown flowers in our gardening bed. Bucky sucked at interior decorating, so I was in charge of making our fake abode look like a real one. 

Overall, we do pretty well, considering we hate each other's guts. Ok, well… I don’t necessarily hate his guts, even if I act it. I just have a very low tolerance for his bullshit and don’t mask my frustrations when they hit their limits. As for being a fake wife to him where he has to treat me well… He’s been a picture-perfect husband from a suburban wife’s perspective.

The only thing we’ve successfully avoided that I was worried about is sharing the same bed. 

After confirming with the higher-ups that our house was bug-free, we claimed our own rooms (me in the master, of course) and set up our own space. Keeping the facade of a happy married couple outside of those rooms and the house was easy, but I dreaded the day we would have to show more affection and closeness than what we already had. 

So far, a kiss on the cheek, holding hands, a hug from behind, and a normal amount of PDA that showed we were in our honeymoon phase yet did not want to make others fully uncomfortable did the job enough. But after Bethanne commented about when we planned on having kids, I figured we might need to bump up our act since she gave a passive comment about us being ‘rather tamed for a newlywed couple.’

Before I could bring up the comment to Bucky once we got home, he seemed more bothered by the men at the party than anything. 

I didn’t expect him to notice such a minute thing, but if there was one thing I had learned about Bucky these last few weeks, it’s that he’s very attentive to details I wouldn’t expect him to be on.

Then, to further my confusion about the situation, something seemed different in our intimate hallway space run-in, and both of us scurried away as if the touch of each other burned. 

After my shower, I got dressed in my pajamas and heard the TV still on in the living room, where Bucky tended to station himself for a few hours before bed. Well, his bedtime. Another thing about us was that I wasn’t much of a night owl, but I did appreciate knowing someone was on alert while I slept. And even if he didn’t do it for that reason, I’m sure, I liked hearing the TV still on when I tended to wake up in the middle of the night. I felt safer…

“Hey,” I leaned against the wall coming into the living room and saw that he had Brooklyn Nine-Nine on with a computer sat in his lap. 

He looked up and gave me a quick head nod before going back to the screen in front of him. “What’s up?”

“Just needed to fill you in on some of the things I learned at the cookout,” I let out a yawn as the day caught up with me and moved to the single chair across from him on the couch. 

“Hit me,” he rolled his shoulders back, never looking away from the blue light. 

“Don’t ask for things you don’t really want,” I teased, and he looked above the screen at me with a glance that seemed to be holding back a smile before rolling his eyes. 

“What’d you learn?” he followed up with. 

I went on to tell him about the neighborhood drama. All things that may or may not have any major plays to our mission, but information nonetheless. 

“Did you ask any of them about work?” Bucky asked once I had covered most everything. 

Our undercover jobs were simple. I worked from home as a data entry clerk. Something boring that Charolette Hunt has been hoping to get out of and find her passion. All this led to me asking around about job connections and if there was anything I could swap over to for a ‘more exciting work life,’ otherwise known as drug trafficking jobs if they were available. 

As for Beau Hunt, Bucky’s cover, he was the owner of a transportation company. Considering how well he was doing, he took the last two weeks off to move into his first home with his new wife before having to get back into the work ethic he had been thriving in the last ten years. 

All perfect pieces to get the answers and resources from our sketchy neighbors we came here for. 

“I asked Katrina, one of the wives of a guy who works closely alongside Reggie. I figured that was a good seed to plant,” I answered, pulling my legs up to my chest and resting my chin on my knees as I watched Jake Peralta chase a bad guy down the streets of New York. I missed the homeland. “She said she’d ask around, which is what I needed. What about you? Any of the 'dusty-ass husbands' have fun details to share?”

“Nothing more than statistics of sports teams and rookie starters for the state college basketball team,” he sighed, and I turned over to see him staring at me before turning back to his computer quickly. “Reggie was giving me a hard time, though.”

“Oh yeah?” I hummed, angling myself to him. “Bethanne was giving me a hard time, too.”

“Think it’s related to the same thing?” Bucky chuckled, looking back at me, but whatever was in his eyes just seconds ago was gone now. 

“Say on the count of three?” I smirked. 

“One,” he nodded.

“Two.”

“Three.”

“When we’re going to consider joining parenthood,” Bucky said. 

“When we’re having kids,” I said at the same time. “Almost a jinx if you didn’t word it so damn robotically. Did fucking Vision channel into your damn cyborg brain?” I laughed, and I heard a slight scoff from his direction before I rolled my head back and looked up at the ceiling. I stayed quiet until Bucky broke me out of my thoughts twenty seconds later.

“What are you thinking?” I heard the computer shut and then be placed on the cushion next to him. “I can hear the gears working past their limit.” His weak version of a retort.

I lulled my stare at him and deadpanned a bitchface at him. “You talking to yourself again?” He rolled his eyes at my comeback, and I decided to bypass the banter. “I think we need to step our game up. Ms. Bethanne thinks we’re ‘tamed’ for a newlywed couple. In other words, she thinks we’re prudes.”

“We’ve hit the PDA marks we need to,” Bucky stiffened just enough for a trained eye to see, but he tried to brush it off as getting comfortable in his spot. 

“Hmm, so maybe one of us is a prude,” I shrugged, moving my legs under me and leaning on one side of the chair. 

We hadn't kissed, although I would peck one on his cheek, and he would place one on top of my head. But that's as far as either of us had been willing to go.

I know our job may require us to go beyond that, and I was willing to keep it strictly professional even if necessary, but Bucky seemed to want to avoid it by all means. Message received.

“I’m not a prude. I just don’t understand why people have to be so touchy in public. It makes everyone uncomfortable,” he argued. 

“Not everyone finds discomfort in those acts. A lot of people think it’s cute.”

“I’m not one of those fucking people.”

“Well, you better figure out pretty fucking quick how to become one of those people because this operation kinda depends on it.” I sighed, standing up and stretching. “Listen, I know you hate me and all, but if we’re going to get this done and over with, we need to-”

“I’ve never said I hate you,” Bucky interrupted. I looked down and saw him staring at me with stern eyes.

“Actions have convinced me otherwise.” 

“The same could be said for you.” 

“I don’t hate you,” I clarified after carefully studying him for lies. 

It was an intense stare-off, but not one where I felt like I had to win it. One where I felt we were both taking a step into new territory, and neither of us knew what to expect. 

Bucky’s burner phone rang right before I could follow up with my peace offering, and we saw it was the fake caller ID Steve was under. He picked it up and put it on speaker. 

“What’s up, punk?” he answered, and Steve scoffed on the other end. 

“Just your biweekly check-in. Anything interesting enough to make this phone call longer than 5 minutes?” he asked. 

“Don’t think so,” Bucky sighed and filled him in on the steps we had taken to further the investigation. Planting our gossip seeds where necessary and waiting for the garden to grow. 

The call ended with Steve informing Bucky that he ‘started back at work’ tomorrow and would need to go to a specific meeting spot for updates. A way for us to get news that couldn’t be tracked with phone calls and messages. And after two weeks of gathering information and only four check-ins in that time, things were meant to pick up now. 

I had decided to head back to my room when a normal conversation between the two started up and strayed from the mission talk. Then, about 10 minutes later, Bucky was in my doorway as I got ready for bed. 

“Sorry, Steve wanted to know if we had torn each other’s heads off yet. Nat and him have a bet going,” he said, leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms over his chest. 

I shrugged, pulling the comforter back on the bed. “No need to apologize. And who’s winning?” 

“Steve gave it 3 weeks, so he’s still in the running.”

“He’s being generous,” I laughed, fluffing a pillow before sitting on the edge and looking at him. 

“I don’t know. I think we’ve managed to stay surprisingly civil given our relationship,” he smiled softly as if the conversation wasn’t dangerous grounds and could easily go one way or the other. 

“Helps that we have to act for most of it,” I fiddled with my nails. 

“Would you rather we didn’t get along?” he asked, and I could see the start of our normal frustration with each other trickle back into his tone.

I stared at him for a minute. Not sure what my goal was here, but it definitely had flipped from wanting to make every minute with him, his own personal hell.

“Fighting has become tiresome. I’m content tolerating the situation.” A bit of a hypocritical response, sounding robotic, but there was no lie behind it.

He stared at me like I had to him. 

“Right. Tolerating,” he nodded with pursed lips, pushing off the door frame and walking down the hall to his room. 

Something about his attitude made it hard for me to brush off the change in tension. I stood up and walked down the hall. When he was already in his room, I was taking up as much space as I could in his doorway now. 

“What’s with the annoyance?” I asked, looking at him as he arranged some things on his nightstand. He turned around, body lax and almost defeated looking. 

“I’m not annoyed. Why would I be annoyed with you ‘tolerating me’?” he said nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“I don’t know, but you clearly are,” I gestured to him and crossed my arms. “Would you rather I treat you how I have before this? I mean, we can go back to-”

“Obviously not, Y/N,” he cut me off with a scoff, and I was shocked at the sheer anger that I would suggest such a thing. His use of obviously made my brain scramble as well… The second time, that word had messed with me tonight.

“You’re confusing as hell, Barnes,” I squinted my eyes at him and decided I wasn’t in the mood to handle a bipolar 100-year-old man tonight. Maybe it was best if I just called it a night. 

Turning in my spot four steps away, I didn’t expect the hand around my bicep to stop me in the middle of the hall, leading to a pensive look on his face as he stared at me.

“What?” I furrowed my eyes at him and looked at the contact unwavering on my elbow.

“I—” he started and then stopped. An internal war played out with surprising clarity on his face. I raised my eyebrows and waited.

We stared for an hour—okay, nine seconds—but it’s all the same with that level of intensity.

“Never mind.” He dropped my arm and took a step back. 

“Seriously?”

“I don’t want to start something.”

“There’s something to start?” 

“No, but I’ll wait until you’re in a better mood to,” he debated on his wording. “Discuss it,” he settled on, turning on his heel. 

“I’m not in a bad mood,” I huffed, and yeah… That didn’t help proving my point. 

“Sure thing,” he shook his head before walking into his room, carrying on as if he hadn’t dropped a strange and confusing bomb on me that I now needed answers to. 

“Goodnight to you, too,” I grumbled as I walked to my room and shut the door behind me.

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx���​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @srrymydood​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xa-dia​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @morganclaire4​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @connie326​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-asguard​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @livstilinski @basicallylool​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki

[antiquarianfics]

Ruinin’ the Game

a/n: I saw a writing prompt and this came to mind. who doesn’t want a cute lil drabble occasionally? warnings: none

“Please!” You cry out, shielding your four year old daughter away in your arms. “There are children here!”

The boy in front of you laughs humorously.

“There were children in my hometown, too,” he says, raising his gun.

“You don’t have to do this,” you insist.

“I think I do.”

He pulls the trigger. You close your eyes, waiting for the bullets to hit you. They don’t.

Carefully, you open your eyes. Bucky has jumped in front of you, holding a pillow out in front of him.

The boy stomps his foot in frustration.

“Dad!” He complains.

“What?” Bucky laughs, dropping the pillow as your daughter, Becca, jumps into his arms. He catches her and lets out a grunt with the impact, but he immediately steadies her and grins.

“Daddy! You saved us!” Becca exclaims.

Bucky grins widely, planting a sloppy kiss onto Becca’s cheek and making her giggle. You move forward on your knees to meet your husband, grinning as you lean forward and plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

“My hero,” you say, punctuating your statement with another kiss.

Becca giggles at the PDA, but your son, Grant, gags.

“Mom! Dad! Stop. Gross,” he complains. “You’re ruinin’ the game!”

“How is a ‘thank you’ kiss from the pretty lady I saved ruining the game, kid?” Bucky raises an eyebrow, challenging his son.

“Because it’s gross.”

Bucky laughs, pulling your face closer again for another kiss. Grant groans.

[elizabethsnuts]

I'll be back

Winterwidow x daughter!reader

Summary: You miss Bucky when he leaves for a mission.

A/N: Sorry I haven't been posting! I've been really busy and had not motivation to write! Request is at the bottom <3

———

Bucky had found himself on another long gruelling mission. Another day he had to leave his wife Natasha and their baby daughter Y/N.

———

Bucky pressed a soft tender kiss to Natasha’s lips and a soft kiss to Y/N’s forehead. He always did this before he left for a mission. He always promised his return.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Bucky said with a sweet smile playing on his lips. His hands were rubbing the soft hair of his baby daughter.

Bucky walked into the quinjet with Steve and Sam. He was already missing his two girls. He watched as the quinjet door shut and the figures of his wife and daughter disappeared out of sight.

Natasha sighed and adjusted the baby in her arms, kissing the top of your soft forehead. She turned around and walked back into the compound.

———

Days turned into nights and nights turned into days, you were getting more restless. You were uninterested in your toys, taking a nap or even eating your favourite food. It was clear that the absence of your dad was taking its toll.

“C’mon sweetheart you have to eat something!” Natasha said with a sigh and pleading eyes. She watched you push away your bowl of food and shake your head.

“No!” You said, a pout plastered onto your lips with an evident frown. “Daddy!” She heard a little huff escape your lips. You couldn’t fully comprehend why your daddy was away or where he went, all you knew was that you wanted him here.

“Daddy’s not here sweetheart. He’ll be back soon I promise!” Nat said with a sweet smile. She had been exhausted for days straight, the sleepless nights of staying up with you since you weren’t sleeping were catching up to her.

As soon as Natasha said that, the door to the elevator dinged signalling it opened. At first, Nat thought it was just one of the other Avengers coming into the kitchen but when she looked up she saw the all-familiar face of none other than her husband, Bucky.

“Daddy! Daddy!” you giggled and pointed to Bucky as he approached the two of you. His strong arms wrapped around you as he lifted you out of your high chair, planting a soft kiss on your forehead again as he did.

Soon a sense of relief and peace had settled back into the compound. Y/N returned to her normal routines, she was sleeping well, eating well and playing well, just like before. Bucky was back home safe and sound, with his family.

[valleyfae]

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ➛ Guys My Age AU: Masterlist

Paring: divorced!neighbor!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: soft father figure Bucky, age gap (reader’s in uni and Bucky’s in his 40s), hurt/comfort, heavy topics (indications of an abusive parent), smut 18+ ONLY MDNI, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (male receiving), lots of praise, dirty talk, and teasing. Bold italicized text is from the reader’s journal or past!!

Synopsis: You can't seem to keep your plans straight or your hands off of each other.

Word Count: 3.5k words

Authors Note: I have finally decided to update this fic, and I am so sorry it took so long. This part was supposed to be double the length, but I split it in half to post something now until I am happy with the second part. Enjoy!!

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✴︎ 𝐒. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✴︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

You’ve been awake for hours.

The bright rays of sunlight sneak through the narrow opening of the cream curtains that lightly sway in the summer breeze. The ashamed feeling of disgust still sunken deep into your heavy chest. Brain fuzzy, limbs weak, stomach cramping, nausea taking over your body as you groan. 

You tiredly stretch; the feeling of your cotton sheets is the only comfort you’ve gotten since Bucky held you in his safe arms. The sunken bags under your eyes become more apparent every day you go without him. 

Falling back into your drowsy state, chilling goosebumps creep down your spine. Yet, no matter the temperature, all you can feel is the isolation and the guilt you somehow manage to carry, blaming yourself for the actions others make. 

A sudden buzz from your phone instantly snaps you out of your hopeless mood. Too lethargic to check your messages, you ignore the notifications. A second buzz vibrates against your wooden bedside table. Tiredly you lift your hand out from under the covers. You squint your eyes as the bright screen inflicts your tired vision.

Dad - 9:27 am

About to leave for my business trip

Dad - 9:29 am 

Your keys are in the kitchen

His texts give a clear indication of what will be happening.

What always happens. 

You can’t deny the sick feeling that stirs your stomach from normalizing his apathetic customs. Dropping your phone onto your burdensome chest, you have zero reaction to the thump of the heavy glass screen on your exposed skin. 

You huff out, grief crawling under your skin. As you pull your covers over your face, you hear yet another buzz, your phone buzzing on your skin. "Shut up," you irately mumble into your soft duvet.

Carelessly, you sit up, sick of seeing your father's name. You quickly glance at the message, not bothering to see what it says, immediately throwing your phone back onto the sheets. 

Freezing your movements, you furrow your brows in confusion. 

You sit fully up for the first time this morning. Leaning against your headboard, you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to collect yourself from the lingering worries built up through your restless night. Nervous excitement washes the sullen expressions off your face. 

Your heart beats at a pathetically fast rate from simply seeing a notification.

Butterflies swarm your stomach, filling your throat with apprehensive nausea. Oh my god, just look at the fucking message. You take a deep breath, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the candle that lingers around your room; building up the courage, you open Bucky’s text.

Bucky - 9:31 am

Good morning, sweetheart! I hope you got a good night's sleep and got some rest. If you want to come over, I’ll be at my house. I just need to finish a little work but come whenever you want. There is a key behind the plant pot :)

Overwhelmed, you feel a sense of consolation as you read Bucky’s text repeatedly. You drag your hands down your face, shaking off your last bit of exhaustion.

It’s a little pathetically how a straightforward text Bucky probably wrote without thinking could bring you this much joy.

Stretching your sore muscles, you take your time to get out of bed – following the bright shine through the curtains, you pull them open to the sound of your father’s car dragging against the gravel. You turn your back to the window, take a deep breath, and push away your negative thoughts. 

You spend the next thirty minutes getting ready, taking your time to feel the hot water run down your back. You gently rub the sweet vanilla scent across your skin, wincing as your fingers skim over your bruises and sore muscles. 

Overcome by the debilitating urge to rush next door, you hastily gather your journal and headphones, knowing Bucky will be busy for a bit – you don’t care how long it takes him. 

You slip into a pair of shorts, the distressed denim skimming your legs, and the cotton of your old band-tee loosely hangs from your shoulders.

The warm breeze hits your skin as your shadow follows your restless steps until you reach the familiar sight of Bucky’s front door. 

You follow his expected thoughtful notes, involuntarily smiling as you pick up the cold key from the shade behind the potted plant, dragging the tip of your finger against the sharp ridges of the metal and taking a breath before gathering your overly excited body.

Carefully opening the heavy door, you step inside. The perfect type of silence and captivating scent flood your senses. Just being in Bucky’s house felt safe. The calm, sleek modern features hold a refreshing atmosphere that radiates the most precious feeling. 

As you step out of your untied Converse, the silence breaks. A faint purr draws you to the couch, and your giddiness heightens.

“Hello, pretty,” you coo, sitting beside the snow-white feline. “Don’t you look comfy?” Then, with one hand tenderly stroking Alpine, you pull your pen and journal out of your canvas bag.

Curled beside you, Alpine’s eyes flutter shut. “You have the most beautiful eyes, just like your dad.” She purrs in response closing the slight gap. “The most beautiful blue eyes.”

Your soft smile melts into a somber gulp as you take out your journal–leafing through your messy notebook and skimming over your prior writing. Lump forming in your throat, you hinder your light flipping of the pages and blankly stare at your words from the previous nights. 

The rivets of dried tear stains scatter your notes like the cuts and bruises fading from your skin.

The painful pages of burden. Every word, hit, insult, ingrained in your memory, the agonizing pluses, the claustrophobic beating of your heart, the fearful tremors, the salty tears slipping through the passage of your lips, manipulated to insanity, exhausted and delirious.

Bottled-up emotions flooded onto the pages of your journal – forever stuck in the cycle of shock, fear, denial, anger, and hopelessness. The stiffly chained pattern has never broken before.  

You never expected to feel any sort of safety.

Shame is always significant, always present, lingering in your mind, but the way Bucky cradles you in his strong arms brings you the comfort and acceptance you never expected, ever. The mounds of self-doubt that control your life slowly dissipate with every second you spend with him. The feeling he gives you is so foreign, and there are not enough words to describe it. The way he holds you in his arms. He’s nurturing. He feels like home.

The desperate longing for someone – that someone, perfect with all of their flaws and broken pieces. That person who will mend your fragile, fragmented mind, body, and soul. You never thought you would find the person, but with Bucky, it is finally starting to feel real.

You’ve never felt joy reading through your journal, repressed memories surfacing, haunting your every moment. Well, not until the night you spent the night at Buckys.

He is perfect – every part of him. 

“Sweetheart?” Bucky calls, a deep and gentle voice echoing down the stairs. His eyes land on the precious sight below him, and he gushes.

Longing gaze snapped back into reality, turning around and stuffing your journal in your bag. “Bucky?”

Nimble fingers rubbing through his beard, scratching the nape of his neck, he teases, taking his last steps to the couch. “Bunny?” kneeling, he tenderly pulls you into a hug, stroking Alpine when she lets out a jealous meow.

Walking down the hall, Bucky guides you into his bedroom. Thoughts mirroring yours, he stops you, gripping your chin between his fingers. Limbs intertwining and heavy breaths mingling, his soft lips skimming yours.

“Miss hearing that flustered hitch in your breath,” he whispers against your lips. “Perfect little girl’s all mine.”

You huff, nuzzling your heated cheeks into his buff chest. “Miss everything about you,” your words muffle against the black cloth constricting Bucky’s muscular figure.

Silence has never been more beautiful, cradled in his arms. Tension building with no fear, just desire.

“Got you something,” Bucky smirks.

Letting out a faint whine, you look up at Bucky, urgently wrapping your arms around his neck. Dwindling patience at an all-time low, heart rate climbing, Bucky welcomes your lips. His tongue glides pasts yours, syncing with the motion of your body as you cling to him.

“I got you a swimsuit,” Bucky whispers into the kiss. “Can go swimming this time, not just— God,” he curses under his breath when you playfully suck along his jaw.

“Not just… fuck me?” you pull away, surprising yourself with the way your words blatantly slip out of your mouth.

Bucky laughs, mockingly pulling away and laying a kiss on your forehead. “Someone’s got a dirty mouth today,” he chuckles, cupping your cheek.

With another sheepish grin, you follow Bucky down the hall, patiently swaying in your seat; you wait for him to bring you the swimsuit he found while in his suit.

Confidence in his step, Bucky tenderly smiles, holding out a cherry red one-piece.

Throat abruptly going dry, the customary throb radiates heat through your jean shorts. Hesitation stirs in your stomach–nervous nausea blocking your airway, cutting your breath short.

I’ve never felt uncomfortable around him. He’s never commented on my body, never drawn attention to my bruises and scars, and never made me feel weird for the horrendous way my eyes get puffy and face blotches when I cry. No one has ever made me feel the same as he does or made me feel good about myself. So does he care or only pity me because I’m just that pathetic? I don’t want him to worry about me. I don’t want him to think I just want attention. I don’t want to feel even more ashamed of myself. I just want to keep pretending that life is perfect, like how it is when I’m with him.

“I’m not the best shopper, aren't I?” Bucky sarcastically snickers, lightening the worried expression on your face.

“No, no, it’s just a little red?” you giggle, pushing your stresses aside. “I love it!”

Smiling up at Bucky, he takes your place, sitting on the linen couch. The soft chuckles of banter gone silent, you timidly undressing to rapidly put the swimsuit on. Tense arms hidden behind your back, you fidget with your fingers, eyes following the pattern of the wooden tiles.

Tongue swiping across his velvety yet slightly chapped lips, his large hand grips your discarded clothes. “Bunny?” his tone sweet and delicate, melodically humming with the blowing wind that ruffles the curtains.

Hands molding to your shoulders, he coos, “Take a deep breath for me.” Chaos constantly cluttering your mind, you follow Bucky’s instructions, giving him your vulnerability. “You don’t need to be scared of me. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

All you can do is nod, leaning into his warm embrace.

*ೃ༄

The summer sun beats down on the two of you as you agilely trace patterns down Bucky’s abdomen, centimeters away from gliding over his shorts. You shift lower in the sun lounger, intertwining your thigh around his leg.

The nervous lump thumping in your chest falls, adding to the pulse radiating off your clit and breaking the stop to your restlessness, gradually bucking your clenched hips as your nose brushes the thick trail of hair that travels beneath the waistband of his shorts.

“Feeling needy, bunny?” Bucky smugly chuckles, placing his book down and his colossal palm on your head instead. “No need to act shy; been teasing me, wiggling in those little red bottoms.” 

You tuck your head, and your flustered instinct kicks in, nose pressing against Bucky’s bulge; you whimper, realizing your position and rising embarrassment.

“Did so good for me last time. I’m still here to help but fuck.” Bucky tenderly rests his palm on your cheek. “Gonna get me hard just thinking about those soft lips wrapped around my cock, looked so pretty, so innocent sucking on my balls. Most perfect sight I’ve ever seen.”

The temperature of your face increases, but that doesn’t stop your body and your racing thoughts. Vivid images flood your memory of the first time you gave Bucky head, the first time you have ever given a man head. 

The one time has left you with a ravenous craving for Bucky, a desperate yearning to please him, the vague taste of him ingrained in your imagination every second that goes by, and it’s intoxicating.

“Can I?”

Looking up, you admire Bucky's defined abs, perfectly sculpted biceps, the bright sunlight glimmering in his crystal blue eyes. A comforting aura emits from his words, breath, and presence; that feeling of safety mixed with passion curates his effect on you, the lust that flows through your veins, leaving you writhing for friction.

You sit up, putting your weight on your heels – pressing against the emerging wet patch on your red bikini. “You know, um….” you mumble, eyes subconsciously drawing to Bucky’s bulge.

He shifts up, spreading his thighs, establishing a space for you to lay. “We have an eager little girl today, now do we?” Bucky chuckles, cupping your cheek and pressing a kiss to your forehead, savoring the feeling of his soft, blush lips on your skin before he pulls away, his gaze piercing through your eyes with a gentle smile. “You’re gonna make me crazy,” he murmurs.

Licking your lips, you tug the supple flesh with your teeth; anticipating his following instructions, you center yourself and lay your clammy palms on your legs, exhibiting your restlessness with a subtle pout.

Intertwining his fingers with yours, he guides your hands to his growing bulge. “Don’t worry, bunny. I'm here.” The trembling of your wrists dies down as Bucky reassuringly moves your shaky touch to a steady pace. “I got you.”

Slipping your fingers past the band of Bucky’s swim trunks, you pull them down his hips, gaze apprehensively shifting from Bucky’s alluring eyes to the expanding path of hair you’re gradually exposing.

“Lemme just,” Bucky grumbles, freeing his strained erection and aching full balls from the polyester. A content sigh washes over him as you finish taking off his bottoms.

Sinful and tainted, you cave in, your mouth watering excessively as you attentively watch Bucky wrap his fingers around his thick base. “Go on and lay down for me.” 

You hastily shift into the spot between Bucky’s muscular thighs, timidly placing a hand on his olive skin. “There you go, pretty girl’s so smart,” Bucky croons, his palm smoothing over your temple.

Your fingers barely conceal Bucky’s staggering girth mimicking his form seconds before; you glide your tongue up his shaft coating him with an abundant amount of your drool, all while maintaining hankering eye contact. His distinct, musky taste seeping into your taste buds, the feeling of his jutting veins intoxicating, you let out a content hum. Following your steady path, you kiss Bucky’s bulbous tip; a faint moan vibrates off your puckered lips, drawing a deep grunt from his chest.

“You see how hard you make me? Fucking hell, don’t need my help at all. So good for me—” Bucky groans, guiding your head down, pushing himself past your glistening lips. “That’s my girl.”

You immediately gag, glassy eyes building tears, your body’s natural response seeming hostile, but it’s your favorite feeling.

Both hands tentatively wrapped around him, the tip of Bucky’s cock prods the back of your throat—drool seeping past your lips, cascading over your tense knuckles.

Bucky's words meld into satisfied grunts, his chest heaving to the rhythm he enforces with his hand pressing down on the crown of your head. “Always take me like a champ,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Don’t you, bunny?”

His pulsing tip pummels down your throat, pushing your head down further, and a perfectly sculpted outline of his cock shapes down your neck abundantly. Copious amounts of saliva coat your chin, running down your chest and creating a glistening pool to glaze over the cushion below you.

Encouraging groans flow from Bucky’s lips as he digs his pearly white teeth into his plush red lips. His eyes locked on yours, the plentiful strands of silver that weave through his hair, glimmering in the sunlight.

The thump in your chest drops between your legs. You urgently clamp your thighs together, helplessly clenching your muscles in an attempt to fulfill the ache exuding heat from your neglected clit. You sync your needy movements with the tempo Bucky set with his hand planted on the back of your head. The repetition of your self-inflicted grinds rapidly builds a coil in your stomach.

Bucky frees you from under his grasp, stifles the tempo of his thrusts, and pumps his cock. “There she is,” he groans. “Shit. Making me feel so good.” 

Increasing the speed of the rough buckling of your hips, Bucky continues to praise you as your drool-painted lips connect to his full heavy balls. His stare drops from your watery eyes to your hips, needily grinding onto nothing. “You don’t need my help, doing amazing. Love it so much you’re humping the air, aren’t you, poor thing?”

The sound of your gags is replaced by your pleading whimpers, which have become more and more substantial as you borrow your nose further against Bucky’s base, his balls drawing up as you slurp your excessive drool.

“Come here,” Bucky motions, soothingly rubbing your free hand on his thigh. “Help me cum – need to feel that pretty cunt wrapped around my fingers. Need to show my girl how proud of her I am.”

Responding with a confused hum, Bucky cups your cheek, gently guiding you up, patting the cushion; he stabilizes your trembling legs, straddling your thighs so you’re hovering over his cock, harder than ever.

He patiently hooks his dexterous fingers around the vibrant fabric, revealing your puffy clit.

He catches your keen gaze, eyes following down to your eager pout and back to your cunt, skimming your mound with his digits. Struggling to form a sentence, you reflexively roll your hips, internally screaming, begging for Bucky to speed up his sly gestures.

His soft chuckles fuel your neediness, but before he can get his words out, you huff, “be patient. I know, I know.” Digging your fingers into his biceps, you giggle, mirroring his smile.

Swimsuit fully pushed to the side, Bucky slides his tip between your folds, teasing your entrance. “Using my words against me,” he rebuts, moving his hands and securely gripping your waist. “You know I’m right. I always make you feel good.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you whimper under your breath, “Bucky.”

Feeding your restless state, he slowly slips you down onto his length, stretching past your entrance.

As much pleasure as Bucky has brought you in every other position, this foreign fluffiness and a false sense of control is startling yet exciting. Bucky’s steady thrusts, combined with your frantic bounces as you rock your hips, almost instantly bring you to your climax.

“B-Buck–” you mewl, embarrassment and pleasure clouding your senses. “Please, I’m- I’m….” Squinting your eyes shut, you arch your back, tensing your muscles.

Maintaining his authoritative grasp on you, Bucky attaches the pad of his thumb to your clit, pulling a squeal from the back of your throat. “So quick,” he scoffs, breathlessly moaning himself. “Look at me, bunny.”

You collapse onto Bucky’s chest, tired and helplessly chasing the rapid thump in your abdomen. “Feels s-so, feels so good.” Brows furrowed, you open your heavy lids, holding back your release until Bucky reassures your pleas. “Can’t hold it, can’t hold it.”

Desperately squirming on top of Bucky, you press your parted lips to his, panting into his mouth. “Go on, cum for me.”

You let go, moaning as you jolt forward, embracing Bucky’s pace, clinging to his frame, letting him take complete control. “There you go—” Bucky’s words get increasingly gravelly as he feels himself climaxing.

His hot breath cascades down your neck–the heightening, deep, harsh snaps of hips let you know he is close. “B-Bucky, please. Please c-cum in me,” you breathlessly mumble.

“Fuck, bunny.”

Bucky holds you close, soothing you from the bliss. He isn’t thinking about anything else besides you in his arms. He lets you bask in the comfortable silence as the pulse between your legs ebbs away until all that is left painting your sensitive folds is his smooth seed that you begged him to fill you up with.

Keeping your clammy cheek pressed to his beating chest Bucky reaches for one of the pool towels he had brought out to clean up to the best of his abilities.

“Said we were swimming, and you wouldn’t just fuck me,” you murmur, voice still raspy as you pull yourself out of the hazy aftermath.

Bucky chuckles as he lays the towel back down. “Really are using my word’s against me today, aren’t you?”

“Uhmm,” you happily hum back at Bucky, shifting up to press your buzzing lips back onto his.

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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[jobean12-blog]

For the Love of Plants...and You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (plant!dad Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,229

Summary: You and Bucky go shopping for new plants and he has the best idea.

Author's Note: My lovely friend @sagechanoafterdark shared this wonderful little idea with me and I was so happy to have inspiration for more plant!dad Bucky! YAY! Thanks so much Sage! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it's soft, sweet and fun, spicy and silly, some implied sexy times and Bucky is delish.

*If you want to read more about plant!dad Bucky you can find his other stories on his Masterlist labeled with 'plant!dad Bucky AU'*

“Are you sure you don’t want anything else doll?”

You look up from the current plant in front of you and stare unblinkingly for a moment before bursting into giggles.

Bucky’s arms are full of plants and his handsome face is obscured by various leaves and flowers.

You sift through the flora that hides him and find his blue eyes bright and crinkled at the corners with his wide smile.

“What?” he asks.

“It’s just…you’re so cute.”

His cheeks become tinged with a flush of pink and you lean through the leaves to place a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Thank you for carrying everything. We really need to start getting a cart.”

“Nah doll, then we’ll go home with even more plants. And you don’t have room for more plants. At least this way we are limited to what I can carry.”

“What are you saying Bucky?” you ask with feigned shock.

He’s quiet for a moment and you worry that he thinks you’re serious.

You open your mouth to speak and reassure him you were just teasing but he beats you to it and says, “I’m going to build you new shelves.”

Now it’s your turn to be quiet.

“Doll?” he asks, trying to see you from around the armfuls of plants.

“You want…you want to build me shelves for my plants?”

He finds a free space on the plant stand outside and places a few down so he can actually see you.

“Yeah. Of course. I want you to have all the plants you can fit.”

“I didn’t know you could build things.”

Your voice comes out slightly breathless.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a devious smirk.

“Sounds like you like that I can do that,” he murmurs as he slips his free arm around your waist and tucks you into his side. “I’m pretty good with my hands.”

“Mm,” you hum, laying your flat palm against his chest. “Very good actually.”

He dips his head to capture your lips, lingering with a soft kiss that has your fingers fisting in his shirt.

“Do you have a tool belt?” you ask him when he finally pulls away.

“I do.”

“You should do it shirtless. So, you don’t get too warm.”

“So shirtless with my toolbelt. Anything else?”

You tap your chin playfully.

“Your dark wash jeans. The really fitted ones.”

“Is this some secret fantasy you have?”

You bury your face in his neck and mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?” he chuckles.

“It wasn’t until you said you could build me shelves!” you squeak.

“This is gonna be fun,” he simpers as he releases you to grab the plants again. “Let’s go check out.”

As promised, later that day Bucky shows up at your place in his dark jeans with a tool belt hanging low on his hips.

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” you ask.

He covers his laugh with a cough and grabs your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“I didn’t want to take the train shirtless.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You answer. “Right.”

He laughs. “Right.”

“I know you think this is hilarious, but you don’t understand…”

His expression softens. “What do you mean doll?”

“It means a lot to me that you’d do this, and you support my love of plants.”

“Of course I would. And of course I do. And you know I love plants too.”

“I know, but even if you didn’t I just know you’d do it anyway.”

He brushes his lips lightly across yours, holding your gaze as he whispers, “I would.”

“Can we take this off now?” you ask as your fingers slide down his chest and under the hem of his shirt.

“Sure.”

He kicks the door shut with his booted foot and lifts his arms above his head. You start to peel the shirt from his body, the action deliberate as you watch every inch of his toned stomach come into view.

After staring at the distinct V shape at his hips you focus on the dark trail of hair just under his belly button then practically let out a moan when his abs flex and move as he shimmies.

“This is like porn,” you sigh dreamily.

That makes him laugh and he gets tangled in the sleeves of his tee.

You keep staring, enjoying all the shifting muscles of his torso.

“Little help here doll face.”

“Oh!...sorry Buck!”

You slip the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor, letting your fingertips run along the smooth metal of his left arm.

“There. Perfect.”

He takes you in his arms and spins you around until your back is against the door. Trapping you in place he settles both hands on either side of your head.

“You’re distracting,” he murmurs. “Not sure I can get to work just yet.”

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “Look at you.”

Your finger slips into the waistband of his jeans, and you give him a sharp tug, drawing him closer.

His hips press into your stomach, and you feel the hard length of him. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and toy with the button of his jeans before running your fingers along the leather of his tool belt.

The muscles in his stomach tense every time your skin touches his and you watch his dark eyelashes flutter against his cheeks with his barely controlled restraint.

His toolbelt drops to the floor with a loud thud and you pull the zipper of his jeans down.

“Doll,” he hisses when your hand slips inside his jeans.

You slide down to your knees, taking his jeans with you.

“Fuck you look so perfect on your knees for me,” he grits out.

You stretch out along the hard wood floor and press yourself against him.

Bucky’s fingers soothingly slide up and down your arm, his eyes closed and his breathing finally even.

“You need to make me a list of all the things you want me to build,” he says.

You laugh as you twirl a strand of his hair between your fingers. “It will be the longest list ever.”

“It better be,” he says, finally opening his eyes and pinning them on you. “I’ll building anything and everything if we can start every project like that.”

You kiss his neck, working your way to his chin and then along his jaw before climbing on top of him and kissing his lips.

“Deal!”

His hands are soft as they reverently trace the curve of your hips and waist. “You know what we still have to do?” he asks.

“What?” you smile.

“Name all the new plants!”

Your smile widens. “WE DO!”

You kiss him again and reluctantly move off him so he can get up. Once you’re both dressed, Bucky sans shirt of course, he starts working on the shelves.

You hold up one of your new plants, Devil’s ivy, and twirl the pot between your fingers, gently fingering the leaves.

“What do you think Buck?” you ask. “How about…Spaghetti!”

He looks up from the wood in his hands and nods with a smile. “That’s a good one, especially for the ivy.”

As soon as he finishes the thought his stomach promptly grumbles, making you both laugh.

“I’m just going to name these last two then I’ll start dinner…how does spaghetti sound?”

“Perfect doll face. It sounds perfect.”

[fandoms-writings]

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x college!reader

Word Count: over 3K

Summary: You were hoping to sneak away after being at your fathers for a summer party, but Bucky has other ideas. 

Warnings: Smut 18+ ONLY, oral (f receiving), fingering, edging, p in v sex, Bucky is a menace in this okay?

Part 1 || Bucky Masterlist || Masterpost

The sound of the party going on outside grew muffled as you shut the window to your old room. 

Taking a deep breath, you sighed and let your shoulders drop into a slouch before you kicked off your heels, humming to yourself once your feet were finally flat on the floor again. 

"Your bedroom is adorable." 

You spun on your heel with a gasp, spotting Bucky in the doorway, eyeing your old room as he walked toward you and suddenly you wished you could hide all of the posters on the walls and the stuffed animals on the window seat. 

Your father had invited the two of you to one of his summer parties, offering you to stay with him for the weekend since you don't see him much anymore. You'd come up for a break from putting on a charade in front of your father - acting like you didn't let his best friend rail you in the back of a car just a couple weeks ago. 

You didn't expect Bucky to follow you.

"What are you doing up here?" 

"I wanted a minute alone with you," He said, stepping toward you, "And I think I'm owed my prize." 

The bet. He was playing poker with your dad and their friends and you'd made a bet with him. You'd texted him that if he won, he won you. And though there was a growing pool of slick in your panties from him just standing there, you couldn't do that here - you had to be smart about whatever this was. 

You couldn't let your dad catch you.

You took a breath to steady yourself as he began to crowd you. The woodsy pine and bergamot of his cologne took over your senses, making you think of that night in his car with your back against the door. The same scents had filled the car, drowning you in him as he gave you one of the best orgasms of your life. 

His hands reached out, brushing up the skin of your arms until they rested over your collar bones. You did your best to ignore the way your body reacted to his touch so easily, the way your core clenched around nothing at just the feel of his hands on your neck. 

God you were addicted. 

"Think about where we are," You said, shifting your weight, waving your hand to the window where, if either of you were to step any closer, everyone - including your father - in the backyard would see you.

"And?" He asked, sliding his hands from your neck down to your hips, gripping your sides and trying to pull you closer. 

You did your best to hold your ground, planting your feet firmly under you. He sat on the edge of the bed when he realized you weren't giving in and looked up at you, confused. 

"Bucky," You tried to pry his hands off your hips, though all he did was tighten his hold, "Bucky we can't."

"Why not?" He tugged you again, a little rougher this time, making your feet stumble towards him as you caught yourself on his shoulders. 

"Because it's wrong," You whispered. You could feel your resolve slipping through your fingers like water. If you didn't stop this now, you weren't going to be able to later. It wasn't that you didn't want to, you just didn't want to get caught.  

He nosed at the side of your neck, under your jaw before his breath fanned against you, "That's what makes it so much better." 

You did your best to ignore the flame his teasing ignited in your core, weakly pushing his shoulders. "But not here." 

"It's okay," He said into your skin, pulling you to sit over his thigh as he pushed it up to rub against your covered clit. "I already locked the door." 

"What if they come looking for you?" You asked, biting the edge of your lip to keep the whine from escaping your throat as he rolled your hips over his thigh, the fabric of your dress sprawled over you both like a blanket. 

"I told them I was headed to bed," He said, "Remember? I'm spending the night here, too." 

How could you forget? When your father had told you about the arrangement, your brain had short circuited right there in the kitchen and it was a miracle you were able to come across as normal in your acknowledgement. You knew the two of you wouldn't be able to keep your hands to yourself, and you'd hoped that Bucky had gotten a hotel so maybe you could sneak off.

"What if he comes looking for me?" You asked, your voice thin as you whined at the pressure his thigh was giving you. 

"He won't," His teeth grazed against your collar bone as he rocked your hips over his denim covered thigh, his hands moving down to hold the backs of your legs before they moved up under the fabric of your dress, his fingers digging into your ass before they tugged on the fabric of your panties. 

"Let me have these," He muttered into your neck before pulling back to look at you. 

"We shouldn't," You weakly argued and the look in his eyes was the only warning you got. 

It was a blur when he suddenly stood, flipping you around to land on your back on the bed. 

"You made a bet with me," He spoke into your calf as he planted kisses along your leg before he grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed, "I take bets very seriously." 

He helped you sit up so he could reach around the back of your dress to unzip it, pulling it up and over your head before tossing it to the ground. He froze at the sight of you, eyes scanning over your body as he took in the matching red lingerie set that hugged you perfectly. Bucky lightly ran his hand over you, up your leg, your stomach, your chest - up to the front of your neck where he tightened his grip just under your jaw, soaking your panties even more. 

"Who were you wearing this for, hm?" He asked, lightly pushing you back down.

You wore it for him, and he knew it, he just wanted to hear you say it. But you wanted to know what would happen if you could make him a little jealous. Rile him up a little bit. "That's none of your business, Bucky." 

"It is now," He shucked off his button up shirt before undoing his belt, tossing them both to the ground before he kneeled on the bed at your feet, pushing your knees open. "Tell me." 

You swallowed at the commanding tone in his voice and you couldn't help but be glad he hadn't rid you of your panties yet so he couldn't see you clenching around nothing. You kept your lips sealed as you stared up at him through your lashes, knowing he wasn't going to let the topic go. 

"C'mon, honey," He drawled, his voice sweetening to get what he wanted from you. You let out a deep breath as you held your ground, watching the sweetness turn sickly in his eyes as he smirked at you. 

"Not gonna tell?" He asked, knowing his answer as he reached forward and gripped your thighs. "You sure about that?" 

You tipped your nose up at him, doing your best to ignore the warmth from his hands on your skin as he moved up your hips and grabbed the edges of your panties before pulling them down. He shoved your knees further apart as he got down, laying on his stomach in the little room that was left of the twin mattress. 

"Last chance, sweetheart," His husky voice sends a shiver through you as he breathes over your folds. "Or you don't get to cum. Which is a shame cause you look so good when you do." You narrowed your eyes at him, brows scrunching at his smirk. 

"You wouldn't." He didn't respond, he just continued to stare, waiting for an answer to his question. You held his gaze, testing him - daring him to follow through with it. 

Without warning, his tongue swiped out at your clit before flattening and running slow over your folds, pulling a gasp from you as you wiggled in his hold. Closing his lips around your bundle of nerves, he groaned into you, the vibrations sending a jolt through your body, a moan bubbling up through your chest that you had to bite your lips to hold in. 

"You want to test that theory?" He asked, eyeing you from his spot between your legs. You took a deep breath through your nose and pursed your lips, keeping your silence and he smirked before diving back in. 

A whine pushed past your lips as you tried to keep it together, his tongue working through your folds as if he was a starved man. The feeling of his fingers pushing through your entrance had you groaning as you threw your head back. 

It wasn't long before he had you at the edge, trying to grind down against his face or get his fingers deeper to push you over when he pulled his mouth off and removed his fingers. 

You huffed, pulling your head up and glaring at him. 

"Are you ready to tell me who you wore this for? Hm?" he asked, reaching up to tug on the bra that matched your discarded panties, trailing your arousal along your skin as he slid his hand back down your side. 

You thought about it for a second. Sure, you could tell him and get the orgasm your body was craving now, or you could hold out a little longer, making that orgasm feel ten times better once you finally got it. So, you tipped your chin up, staring at him down the slope of your nose and he smirked. 

"Have it your way," He muttered, "Let's see how long you last." 

~

"Fuck, Bucky please," You writhed under him, his arms holding your hips down so you couldn't get follow him as he pulled his mouth away again. You still hadn't told him what he wanted, and this was the fifth time he'd edged you, bringing you so close only to back up and watch as the frustration grew in your eyes. 

"Answer the question, honey," He licked a stripe up your slit, "and I'll give you whatever you want." 

"Fine," You huffed, propping yourself up on your elbows, "I wore it for you okay? I just thought we'd be able to sneak off somewhere not in the house." 

He smirked up at you again, "Well that's just too bad isn't it?" He asked, "We didn't make it very far." 

"I don't care, just please let me cum," You almost sobbed. You were fighting back frustrated tears and he cooed at you, reaching up to cup your cheek and pull on your bottom lip with his thumb. 

"Tell me what you want," He ordered, holding incredibly still as he waited. 

"Fuck me," You said probably too quickly but you didn't care, "Please, Bucky." 

He crawled his way up your body and your hands shot out to his belt, undoing it and working the zipper as fast as you could. He chuckled into your neck before helping you out, getting rid of his pants and boxers in one motion before settling in between your legs, the underside of his cock resting against your slick folds. 

"Ah, fuck," He sighed as he leaned back, gathering your slick and covering his shaft in it before lining himself up with your entrance. He pushed forward, sliding in with ease considering how worked up you were. He shuddered before grabbing your hips, pulling them up and sliding his knees under, propping you up and making his cock brush against that spongy spot.

He started rocking slowly, chuckling at your soft whine, your hands reaching for him, to try and pull him closer, to get him to go faster, something. But he caught your hands, holding them together with his left against your stomach, pushing against the slight bulge as he thrusted deep, earning a sharp gasp from you that ended in a moan. 

The sound of the back door opening cut off your moan and your eyes shot open, your head lifting off the bed.

"Bucky, wait," You choked out, trying not to let a moan slip as he kept thrusting into you, "We can't get cau - " His free hand reached forward, planting his hand over your mouth. 

"We won't," He growled down at you and you couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach the rumble of his voice caused. "As long as you stay quiet." 

He moved his fingers to prod at your lips, "Open." He demanded and you couldn't stop your jaw from moving on its own, letting his middle and ring finger push in, resting on your tongue and flooding your taste buds with your own arousal. 

You whined around his fingers as he rocked his hips into yours. He was listening to the laughter from downstairs, the clinking of glasses and beer bottles opening as he watched you. You were breathing deep through your nose, trying to hold yourself together as he still refused to stop his hips. 

"God," he whispered, "you feel so fucking good." 

After slowly dragging himself almost all the way out, he slammed into you, pressing his fingers down on your tongue as you choked back a moan. When he realized there was no squeak to your bed, he smirked down at you. That was the only warning you got before he set a brutal pace, leaning over you as his hips slammed into yours. 

You moaned around his fingers again, holding back as much as you could as he kept hitting that spot over and over. 

"Fuck, you take me so well. You were made for me, weren't you?" He asked and you nodded, humming around his fingers as he smirked down at you. He let your hands go, pushing your legs towards your chest without stopping his hips movements, the new angle making your eyes roll back. 

"Don't you dare cum yet," He growled down at you as he pressed on your tongue again. "Not until I say so." 

You did your best to nod, mumbling around his fingers as your hands reached under you to grab his thighs, raking your nails across what skin you could reach. 

"Oh look at you," He grunted, "Always so pretty when you're stuffed, aren't you?" 

All you could do was nod dumbly back, the only thing on your mind being fighting that orgasm until he gave you permission. You entirely missed the back door opening and closing again, followed by the silence downstairs and the voices outside. 

The party had moved back outside. 

You missed it, but Bucky didn't. 

Once he was sure there wasn't anyone downstairs, he pulled his fingers from your mouth, moving them to circle your clit. 

"Go on sweetheart," He moaned, "Let me hear you." 

You shook your head as you bit your lip. He chuckled at you, "Don't worry, everyone's outside." He applied more pressure with his circling fingers, "But it's only a matter of time before they come back in, so let me hear you. Cum for me, sweetheart." 

The tension in your belly snapped and your cunt clenched around him pulling a groan from his chest as he watched you throw your head back with a shout. 

"There you go," He continued with his brutal pace and you could've sworn you could feel him in your chest, each thrust forcing the air out of your lungs before you got a chance to take a breath. 

"Give me one more," He let your legs go, grabbing your hips and pulling you into him. With the angle change and the heavy hand he pressed onto your stomach, you felt yourself tumbling towards the edge again. "C'mon, give me another one." 

You shook your head, "I can't - oh fuck - "

"Yes you can, you can take it, c'mon," He grunted out, "Be a good girl and give me another one." 

Your orgasm washed over you again, white flooding your vision as your body tensed under his. One of his hands covered your mouth just in time, your scream vibrating against his palm. He slammed into you just a few more times, reveling in the feeling of your walls fluttering around him before he pulled out, finishing over your stomach. 

Your legs were like jello when he finally moved them back down to the bed before he got up and started searching the floor. He eventually showed up next to you again, gently brushing a hand across your face. 

"What do you want me to use to clean you up?" He asked, his voice soft as he caressed your skin. 

You pointed to where your towels would be and it was only a matter of seconds before he was back wiping his mess off you. He pulled the blanket out from under you, placing it over your sweat slicked body and getting dressed again. 

"I'll see you in the morning," He whispered, throwing a wink your way. 

You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand and ask him to stay. But then you remembered where you were, and who you were. 

You couldn't do that, not in your fathers house. So, as much as you hated watching him walk out your door, you didn't stop him. You listened to his footsteps as he retreated down the hall to the guest room, the door shutting, and the guest bathroom shower turning on. 

You turned over in bed, ignoring the dull ache in between your legs and the want in your chest, the want to follow him. The need to have his hands on you again even though he just left. 

You wrapped your arms around one of your pillows, pulling it to your chest as you buried your face in your sheets, trying to drown yourself in his smell before it went away. 

Your dads muffled laughter from outside made your heart sink. 

What were you going to do? 

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

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[imtryingbuck]

She’s gone

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: The team lose their friend (I’m bad at summaries sorry)

Word count: 1,695

Warnings: Angst. Sad times. Swearing. Reader threatens to bite people. Children get thrown (fun) Death

Translation: мисс мисс плохой парень - miss, miss bad guy./ ты хочешь летать? - do you want to fly? (if translations are wrong please let me know, thank you)

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

6 years ago.

Fury and Maria walked into the briefing room where everyone was waiting “I’m just going to get straight to the point, an organisation going by the name of The Reapers have threatened to blow up a hospital in Russia- yes Y/n?”

“Why?”

“I was just getting to that part”

“Okay you can proceed”

“Why thank you. Now as I was saying, they want their leader to be treated for- yes Y/n?”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“You know Birdie if you stop interrupting me you might find out” Smiling sarcastically towards her.

“That’s true, continue Mr Furry” Everyone chuckles at her nickname for him.

“Their leader has a heart defect, a British heart surgeon who is the best of the best is in Russia to help out - Y/n put your hand down - they want him to be treated, they’ve been flagged up by the FBI as a terrorist organisation so obviously they’re not getting any help. Now they’re threatening to blow said hospital up, now Y/n you can ask your question”

“Why don’t they just do it and just fuck up - language I know - by putting in a teeny tiny little bomb inside of his chest, wait until he leaves and then… BAM, he dead.” She slams her hand on to the table “Ow that hurt. But anyway why don’t they just do that instead of letting hundreds of innocent people die?”

“She’s got a point” Tony agrees.

“Thanks dad” Receiving a salute as a response.

“Where will we get this teeny tiny little bomb from?” Fury asks with his arms crossed.

“Me”. Saying it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “I’ve been working on it for awhile now and it’s great, my little baby is perfect if I do say so myself” She speaks with pride lacing her voice.

“It won’t work, the FBI wants them alive so they can be questioned”

“But why? And also why are we being involved if we can’t kill them?”

“I don’t know, it makes no sense to me either and the reason why you’re being involved is to be there when they do something-“

“Oh fantastic. So we just have to wait for them to do something bad and then we can kill them”

“The girl might have a point” A voice comes from the doorway.

“Ew I’m a woman”

“Sorry, the woman might have a point”

“And who are you?” Steve asks.

“I’m Special Agent Lloyd Johansson with the FBI Counter Terrorist Unit. As I was saying this gir-woman might be on to something. Okay let’s say we have a bomb placed in him how close by does he have to be in order for it to go off?”

“I can set it off from the comfort of my bed”

“If I give the go ahead on this Fury I want her to be a member of my Unit”

Everyone was ready to protest at Agent Lloyds comment but Y/n jumped in first

“Over my dead body! No. No fucking way will I work for the FBI. Nope. No. Fury I won’t do it! I’ll eat his face off if I have to!”

The whole room fell silent at her last words.

“Okay maybe I won’t eat his face, Jesus people it was a joke! But no Larry I won’t join your unit”

“Lloyd, my names Lloyd”

“Sorry Lawrence. But no means no, thanks for playing though” 

Lloyd speaks directly to Fury “I like this one! Okay you’ve got the go ahead to plant this bomb but I will be joining you guys”

“Suit up we leave in 20 minutes” Fury says as he leaves the room.

On the quinjet 15 minutes later Fury’s telling everyone their part. Y/n was sat down and was getting her headphones out when Lloyd sits down next to her.

“Hey”

“Hi?”

“What’s your name again?”

“Natwanda”

“No it’s not” He chuckles.

“Why ask me when you already know the answer?”

“Why does Fury call you Birdie?” Lloyd asks changing the subject.

“Because I have a bird tattoo”

“Why a bird?”

“It’s free. Just like me”

“Cool so are you datin-“

“Yeah, see the guy with the metal arm who’s giving you dirty looks. Him. And he’ll break you like a pretzel”. She gets up and moves closer to Bucky.

“Like a pretzel?” Bucky chuckles.

“Yep, hey you wanna listen to some music with me?” Already handing him one of the buds.

“It’s not going to be Black Sabbath again will it?”

“Bee Gees?”

“That’s fine”

“Don’t wanna hurt your precious old man ears now do we?”

“What was that?”

“Nothing”

Touching down near the hospital, the team moved into place.

“Buck something’s not right about this…”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, something’s off”

And just as she said that all that was heard was gunshots and screams.

“Everyone move in!”

Gunfire and chaos erupted from all around as Y/n approached alongside with Bucky who was followed closely by Steve and Nat.

“Get down” Steve orders a split second before he throws his shield. “Y/n go left, Bucky go right, Nat you stick with me”

“Ay Ay Captain” Y/n salutes as she takes the left corridor.

There was way more of The Reapers than they had originally thought. As her gun gets jammed she throws it to the ground and releases her claws, trying to push The Reapers back and help getting people out as much as she could.

She had just cleared the 7th or 8th room when she heard Thor’s deep voice from the other end, as she turned to face him a huge explosion hit from her end of the corridor.

She could hear Bucky’s and Thor’s screams coming from her comms though she was to disoriented from the blast she managed to mumble out “I’m okay. I’m okay Buck I promise”.

Hearing her voice come through his comms and hearing her repeat she’s okay calmed him down. He was busy helping doctors move patient after patient out of harms way when the whole building shook. His heart jumped to his throat as he realised the explosion came from her end of the hospital.

Slowly the gunfire ceased, they all met up at the checkpoint they had agreed to. As soon as Bucky sees her he pulls her to him for a hug, checking over for injuries straight after.

“We still have kids on this side of the building we need to get out” Nat says.

“We’ll get them don’t worry. Y/n are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Someone best have a donut ready for me soon or I’m gonna start biting people”

“You and your donuts kid. C’mon let’s get to work” Tony chuckles.

A little girl no older than 8 grabbed Y/n’s attention by pulling on her arm “мисс, мисс плохой парень” pointing over to a man who had a gun pointed at Thor.

“ты хочешь летать?” She asked the little girl who just smiled and nodded, “Bucky! Catch” just as he turns around, he sees a little girl being thrown towards him.

Running towards Thor a gun is shot. Then another.

“Y/n? Y/n are you hit?” Thor panics.

“Yeah but I’ll live, he won’t though”.

“You…you took a bullet for me? What were you thinking?”

“Of course I did, and I’ll happily do it again. And Thor my love, you should know me well enough by now, I don’t think, haven’t got a brain inside my skull” Chuckling as she walks off.

“Lady Y/n you need to ge-“

“Thor I’m fine, I promise”

Going back to where she was originally at before she continued to help passing the kids in to Bucky’s waiting arms. All that was left on that side of the building was Y/n, Thor and 5 more children.

“Thor jump down next to Buck, and I’ll throw these kids at you two”

“What’s with you and throwing kids?” Bucky asked.

“It’s fun, no honestly it is and they love it. Well that little girl did anyway, come on Thor I haven’t got all day”

Thor listens to her, jumping down to stand by Bucky they both wait for these poor little children to be thrown at them. Just as she has the second to last one, a boy who looked up at her with wide brown eyes, she smiled and whispered “It’s okay”.

Holding the little boy in her arms she heard the sound of the building shifting “That’s not good” she whispered mainly to herself. “Thor! Catch!”. As soon as the child is free from her fingers the building starts to collapse.

“Y/n get out of there!” Screamed Steve.

But she couldn’t. There was another child, and there was no way on earth she would have left it behind. So she scrambled to get her, pulling the crying and terrified child into her arms she shouts over the deafening noise of bricks falling “Bucky!” As quickly as he could he hands the child over to an agent, just as they all hear one final gunshot.

Turning towards Y/n he sees her standing there with wide eyes, her mouth open and closes as she gasped for air. His blue eyes already filling with tears trail downwards until they land on the crimson circular splatter on her chest.

No one could move. Everyone was frozen.

The building came tumbling down.

“No! No! Y/n! Y/n! Baby answer me!” Bucky screamed “No no no no no” He kept repeating.

Thor gripped onto the super soldier as they both fell to their knees, holding his friend tightly in his arms as the soldier lets out gut-wrenching sobs that tore through his chest, screams echoing the now quiet street.

Fury drops to his knees, his trembling hands cover his head. Trying his hardest to make himself smaller.

The Avengers fall to their knees one by one with tears streaming down their cheeks. Their bodies each shook with an onslaught of sobs and tears.

Each agent of SHIELD followed suit.

Lloyd walks off and once he’s around the corner he raised both hands and says “Hail Hydra” before falling to the ground, foam pouring from his mouth.

Next>

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[shamrockqueen]

Father Figure : Chapter 3

Pairing : Best Friends Dad Bucky x Reader

Warnings : R18, angst, eventual smut, age difference, taboo attraction, 18 and green

Word count : 3833

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Your night was nearly sleepless, plagued with every second of that phone call. His voice still lingered in your ear, making your skin burn a shameful shade of pink.

You didn’t quite understand this new version of him your mind seemed to be making. Of course Mr. Barnes had always been handsome, and at some moments incredibly attractive. From the few times he had seen him shirtless, he seemed well chiseled. Yet, by far, you loved his smile the most. It was something so genuine and gentle as it crinkled up towards his eyes.

But, he was Becky's father! He wasn't someone that could be an object of desire.

That simply wasn’t allowed. You weren’t allowed to see him as anything other than how he was.

Eventually exhaustion finally won out, rewarding you a few hours of much-needed sleep. Shortly after, you'd finally meet the morning, rubbing your sore eyes as the light of the rising sun was clouded over by a familiar yet stern face. Your mother was looking down at the both of you, disappointment etched into every feature in her face.

Her scrub top was wrinkled, and her hair messy from her own rushed morning. She’d looked over at the snoring mass that was Becky before the girl snorted herself awake.

“Get up, both of you!” Her voice shocked the room, jolting you both fully awake. Your friend from her deep slumber and you from your paralyzed state.

Becky was out of bed before you, as you clambered out of the covers. Your mom turned away from the two of you, calling back over her shoulder as she traversed the thin hallway. “Don’t be late for school."

Of course she’d rather reprimand you later, an awful quirk she had, as she'd rather have plants of time to chew you out over your disobedience. She had told you time and time before 'not to let Becky into this house.'

Her excuse being that Becky was a terrible influence. A sharp and noteless tune you were sick of hearing.

Rebecca was your friend, and even with her prickly personality, she had been there for you in your lowest moments just as you had for her.

The last you'd hear from your mother that morning was curt and was shouted out from the front door. “I’ll be telling her father where she was last night." What followed after was growled under her breath in distaste before she finally shut the door.

"Not that he’ll do anything about.”

You hadn’t heard that last part, but you didn’t care either way, believing this to be just part of her prejudice against your friend and her broken family. Not that yours was ever whole to begin with.

The two of you readied yourselves for an effortless Friday before leaving an hour earlier than necessary. Rebecca didn’t want to go to school just yet, goading you into following her to the old McDonald’s up the road with the promise of buying you a cheap breakfast. You agreed, and soon after the great piece of Americana came into view on the hill. Still with its ugly faded red metal roof and its big, barely lit yellow ‘M’ Truly a McDonald’s that time forgot.

She made good on that promise, handing you the bag as you followed her back of the shabby establishment.

The two of you ate your crumbling biscuit sandwiches in silence at one of the rusty tables sitting outside the little restaurant. Rebecca was more interested in filling her empty belly, whereas your sandwich sat in its unfolded wrapper with only a small bite missing.

Your stomach grumbled in protest, as if it would have rather gone empty in retaliation to the buzzing memories of last night's call to Mr. Barnes. His voice, smooth like velvet on the skin with a heavy timber, still seemed to rumble in your mind.

You had hoped that even with meager sleep it would have been forgotten, but you were horribly wrong.

“You’re really quiet.” Her voice nearly made you jump back, winning you a strange look from your friend.

“Damn, what’s got you so on edge?”

How could you answer that question? Certainly not with the truth that thoughts about her own father were consuming you.

“Uh…my mom..you know..she...” You struggled to find a scapegoat for your predicament, not wanting to spill any real secrets.

Your mom was mad this morning; that had to be reason enough to be upset yourself. You don’t even have to complete broken sentences to garner a response.

She gave you a groan before actually saying, “Yeah, I know she doesn’t like me.”

“She’s always on about things that she just doesn’t really understand.” You gave her a weak smile, hoping to reassure her just a little.

“Mine’s no better.” She said before taking a big bite of her sandwich.

“You still wanna visit her? You always complain about her when you’re up there.”

She chewed away her frustration before answering back with, “I just want her to notice me. It’s always easier for her to ignore me when I’m not there.” She looked down at the last meager bite of her sandwich as she mumbled a single lament under her breath. Yet, you still heard her words, spoken sad and low to her own chest.

“At least my dad calls.”

“How is he doing..? Your question cut itself short; the words had fallen out before you could catch them, but Rebecca didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. She didn’t notice the brief widening of your eyes as your heart hiccuped at your own mere mention of him.

“He’s…detached. Like for the last couple days something’s been bothering him.”

“I’m sure he's just overwhelmed.” You spoke softly before coughing out a continuation. “Uh…You did come home pretty sick the other night.”

“That’s just it; he hasn’t yelled at me or grounded me at all for that. Like..like he's given up or something.”

You tried to dance to safety around the topic only to step into an unseen mire as Becky’s tears began to spill.

You watch as Becky averts her gaze, making your stomach clench with the possible knowledge she might have had.

“I’m just…y’know. I’m sorry! I was a mess, and you and my dad had to take care of me.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. Becky often showed you a more subdued level of vulnerability, but on rare occasions she would shower her truer colors with a deep and sorrowful blue.

“I was so drunk that I don’t even know what I did to make you run away like that and…”

“Hey, hey.” You scramble for the wad of napkins that had been stuffed in your bag of food so that Becky could dry her eyes. It smudged her already messy makeup, but she seemed to calm down a little more.

“I think I fuckin broke him, and I don’t wanna break you too!”

“It’s fine, you didn’t do anything; I just..” you had to stop yourself before any truth could spill. You didn’t want to lie, feeling sick enough of the smaller ones you’d already given her.

“That night was a lot.” That wasn’t a lie, and the breathless feeling James had given you after pulling you over his knees came back all at once. “Everything just happened so fast…I”

“I’m sorry.” She cut you off again, much to your relief.

You huffed a sad laugh, sniffling as your eyes threatened to tear up. She smiled back at you, knowing you forgave her. You’d always forgive her.

“Can..uh..can you come to my house tonight? You know, if you want?”

“Oh I..”

“If your mom won’t let you, then it’s..whatever. But, the house is too quiet, and I don’t want to feel alone.”

Your mom wasn't as much of an obstacle as she’d hoped to be, not with her nightshift standing in her way. Most days she could rule the house, but until she could come home in the early morning, the nights were yours. Not that you ever did much with them other than hanging out with Becky.

You didn’t know how you could face Mr. Barnes, but you couldn’t ignore Becky’s cry for help. Certainly to your detriment.

“I can come over. It’s fine.” Your pulse has quickened, and you wish you had just said no. But, in all honesty, you didn’t want to be alone either.

With that, Becky’s mood had lightened, and she crumpled up her food trash before tossing it into a nearby trash can.

You fained a similar sense of joy; the knot that built in your stomach would remain all throughout the school day. You dreaded the moment you’d have to face him, but you already made your bed when you agreed, and now you’d have to lie in it.

At the time, there was a lot you didn’t know about James. Some of the things you’d learn were sad to say the least, but it made him seem all the more stoic.

James was young when he had first gotten married. They were already expecting Rebecca and truly believed they could conquer all odds facing their already short union.

James loved his daughter, her life never being created intentionally, but no matter what faced him, he’d never regret having her. Yet, early in his marriage, things started to change. Like a thin layer of veneer peeling away to bring into view the chipped and broken surface that had hid beneath. The more of this ugly side James had to see from his once blushing bride, the more and more it felt as if he sold his soul to a demon in disguise.

The fighting was spontaneous and yet routine. Not one single move that James had made was good enough for that woman, and it left a widening crack between them until everything finally broke apart. The split was desired by both parties, but nothing could be agreed upon. When James wanted to keep something, she was there to speak on why she needed it more.

The custody of their daughter, of course, made every other argument pale in comparison. The battle was vicious from both sides; James wanted to split custody so Rebecca wouldn’t lose both of them, but that woman wanted blood from a man that had never once lifted his hand to her.

Every second her daughter would see would be in her presence alone; that way no one could “poison her perception of me.”

The tears were spilling, and the woman James once happily called his 'wife' many years prior cried out to the court, "I was miserable," “I want a better life for my daughter," and James, of course, “wasn’t a proper provider,” at least not of the life she felt she deserved.

James never felt more disgusted with her than this moment; it was like watching a demon puppet the body of the woman he once loved like a corpse on a string. James was very lucky, because tears weren’t enough to sway the judge, and split custody was awarded.

This wouldn’t be the end of their infighting, taking its role on both James and most certainly Becky. A union was broken over top of a little girl's head, and the constant pull from either side tore into her belly with a deep and incurable pain.

Becky fought with her mother; she fought with her father, but she never had to fight with you.

Her voice was the only control she had in her own life, and the heavy sense of abandonment she felt when her mother sent her away left her empty. But, you listened to her; even as she raised her voice and screamed at the sky, you stayed by her and made her feel heard.

You were gentle with both Becky and her father, making the house feel calmer with just your presence, and as Becky clung to it, James seemed to gravitate unconsciously closer until ultimately colliding into you.

When his daughter came home drunk, he was beside himself to see how his own flesh and blood could be so conflicted. Yet, you were so perfect. He envied your pristine nature and took his frustration out on it.When he realized what he’d done, it was too late, and he was sure you told your mom, and he’d have cops knocking at his door the next morning. But you didn’t, and things went by as they normally did.

It gave him both a sense of ease and deep-cutting dread at when the shoe would finally drop if not now. You’d listened to him the few times he could open himself to you, just as you would with his daughter. It had made you such a great comfort as well as making this situation all the worse.

His image of you changed that night from the sweet girl that sat at his daughter's side into something sinister. He’d never handled you like that before, and your body felt fuller against him after he’d thrown you over his legs. You weren’t even scared as you looked up at him, only choosing to run away after being thrown off his lap.

He’d been inappropriate, letting a terrible part of himself break through, and he could never describe the disgust he had for himself after that moment. He sent you running away, and yet that broken part of himself had hoped you would come right back.

That phone call left his heart so heavy. He hated how elated he was to hear your voice before the news of his daughter's safety. It was a childish feeling, and it left his stomach aching as he recalled the events that led him to this point.

Your flushed skin was warm and soft under his calloused fingers. Then there were your watered eyes, wide and teary with confusion but not fear. You didn’t fight him off, and you weren’t scared of him.

You hadn’t slept well after that phone call, biting away a few bits of sleep without reaching any restfulness. By the end of the day, he was home, staring into the black lagoon of his coffee as his mind wandered. That was until it was interrupted by a soft knock at his door.

He had hoped it was his daughter, and he threw himself from his chair to open the door. These nightly flights weren’t new for Becky, and he couldn’t bring himself to be angry anymore as long as she went somewhere safe. That way she’d always come home the next day.

He opened the door only to find you standing with Rebecca on his porch, in the flesh instead of a dismissible, disembodied voice whistling through his phone speaker. Now you were in front of him. Now you weren’t at a safe distance.

His eyes caught yours first before immediately trying to break from your gaze. Then they landed on his daughter, and he stepped out to pull her into a hug.

“I’m glad you came home, sweetheart.”

“I-I’m sorry.” She said, just above a whisper, before the hug broke and he let the both of you inside.

He closed the door, turning his back to the both of you as he spoke. “I take it she’s spending the night?”

“If that’s ok?” You quickly called back before carefully setting your bag down by a small rack of shoes.

“It keeps her out of trouble if you're around.”

You noticed a small quirk of a smile along the side of his lips before he disappeared entirely when he turned back to face you.

Becky gave a sassy huff as she picked at her nails. But, she looked back up and gave her dad a grateful “thanks dad” before continuing her pace all the way to her room. You followed after as she threw her bag on the bed.

“We gonna watch a movie tonight?” You asked, laying back against her floral comforter.

“We can binge a bit of gossip, girl, or something.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows with a grunt before hopefully shooting that option down with a laugh. “Ugh, I hate teen soap operas. Literally anything else.”

“Shut up.” She chuckled back, “It’s not that cheesy.”

“Oh yes, it is!”

She grabbed her jacket to fling it over top of your head, like quitting a canary in its cage. “Quiet you.”

You threw it back off in disgust after a whiff of BO hit your nostrils. “Holy hell, that reeks.”

“Nuh uh”

“Fuckn, yeah, huh.”

“Well, I didn’t take a shower last night. So..” She said while sneaking a sniff towards her underarms before pinching her nose as the smell. “You wait here while I clean up, alright?”

“You better. I can still smell you from here.” You gave a fake gag and cough before pretending to faint onto her bed.

“Knock it off.” She laughed back, throwing more stuffed creatures in your direction before grabbing her change of clothes and trotting off towards her bathroom.

For a moment everything was how it always had been, and as you left her room to find a cheese movie on TV, it was like nothing actually changed.

That was until you saw him again. It wasn’t the face of Mr. Barnes, you knew; the soft quick of a smile was replaced by a deep and troubled frown. His eyes were no longer amused, only on edge.

When he saw you come in, he stiffened in his seat and gave a quick cough. You were a little surprised he decided to speak to you, but the sentiment was lighthearted.

“Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Absolutely..sir.” You shot back nervously. You always tried to take care of Becky, a responsibility that should have never fallen to your shoulders.

“How have you guys been?” You twirled your fingers together as you fidgeted from under his gaze.

“Becka certainly missed you.” He bemused. “Kinda think we both did.”

It was a slip of the tongue on his part, or maybe he’d hope you didn’t hear him talk under his breath. The low gravel of his voice gave him away, and you answered him back with a similar sentiment.

“I missed you too.” The words lingered before you cut their meaning with an added “both of you, of course.”

You watched as his adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow.

“Are you ok? Y’know after you got upset..”

“I wasn’t upset with you, I promise. I’m glad Becky came to you last night..”

“I meant the other night..” You looked out towards the bathroom as the sound of the shower still sounded through the house. “..when Becky came home sick..”

“Don’t..please.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“You are the last person that needs to apologize for that!” He had stepped up, leaving him standing right infront of your shivering form.

“I-it’s ok, sir..”

"No, it’s not.” He looks guiltily at you before continuing, “I’m just so frustrated. I just came spilling out until I..I hit you like that.”

“Mr. Barnes, please. If you just needed an outlet, it’s fine...” you stopped yourself before you continued, shocked by what had slipped out of your mouth. That’s not how you meant for it to sound. Mr. Barnes was your friend, and you just want him to be comfortable around you again.

Bucky spoke instead as he wracked a firm hand over his face.

“Oh my god. An outlet?” You are not an outlet. No man should ever do something like that to you without your consent.” What he’d done disgusted himself. If anything, he believed to be the luckiest motherfucker alive for not being in jail right now.

But in an odd touch, starved part of his brain, he had revealed the feeling of your warm skin under his palms for that brief moment. It made him feel even worse afterward.

His eyes shot out towards the hallway for any set of prying eyes into this incriminating conversation. The shower still ran, and the dull sound of music played from the steaming bathroom door.

"Listen,” he spoke in the calmest whisper he could.

“What I did was very bad. I cannot do that kind of stuff to you of all people.”

“But..”

“sweetheart..” He only ever called you that when he talked to you like a child. An adorable nickname for the sweet little neighbor girl who played Miss Mary Mack at the bus stop with his daughter.

“I’m not dumb, Mr. Barnes. I know what happened, but I-I don’t want you to have to feel this way about it.” You reach out for his hand, but he jerks it from your fingers, as if the small touch had burned him.

It was when you flinched, a few tears burning your eyes from the mistreatment. Although it seemed along with his expression, his heart melted when he saw your mood shift.

“You have no idea what you're saying." He leaned in and grabbed both of your shoulders to halt any further words that would come out of you. His voice was a low, angry whisper.

“If you have to put your hands on me again, I won’t stop you, sir.” You spoke so fast, a whisp of words flying through the air faster than they could be heard by praying ears.

But, he did in fact hear you. He saw the pleading look in your wet eyes with a glimmer of desire you didn’t even know was shining through them. It made his heart drop, and his skin flushed a soft pink you’d never seen it do before.

You questioned yourself for a second, feeling that maybe he was right and you didn’t know what you were talking about. Were you coaxing him to touch you again? Or, were you offering to be his needed whipping girl? Both assumptions being tailed by a horrible air of taboo.

Your mind started to spin, twisting your stomach over your own words. You hadn’t even realized you were crying as hard as you were until he told you to breathe.

You mumbled another pained ‘sorry..I’m so sorry.’ As you backed away from his hands, and your feet nearly caught against the couch as you stumbled for the door.

“No..wait!” His voice cracked as you evaded his attempt to stop you.

When you heard your name being called out to you again, it was by another voice. Becky’s face was a blur as she rushed to your side, grabbing your arm to stop you from running away. It grounded you, her wet hair clinging to her face and her disheveled shirt having been rushed onto her body.

Your head stopped spinning for a second. It was a short moment of clarity that allowed you to wrestle your elbow away from her grasp before grabbing your bag and running.

You ran out the door and down the street for as long as your legs could carry you.

Chapter 4

Tags list : @brianheadsworld @mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@funkybarnes @mayusenpai666 @cadencejames87 @wintrsoldrluvr

[buckrecs]

do you know any bucky stories with alpine in them.!

Alpine

masterlist | req masterlist

WE NEED ALPINE ON THE MCU

Love In Four Acts by @buckybarnesowl

You’re a nurse living in Brooklyn. You’ve got a crush on your next door neighbour who doesn’t seem to know you exist. One day his cat finds its way into your apartment, forcing you both to finally meet. That’s when you learn that he’s James Buchanan Barnes, ex-Winter Soldier. Well, there goes your chances. Or maybe getting close to a superhero isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds.

That Darn Cat by @lillywillow

When a white cat enters your life, she decides to adopt you as her secondary human.

Cat Dad of the Year by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Bucky comes home from a mission, only to be greeted by Alpine. But chaos ensues when he lets her rub her little face all over his dirty boots.

Fur Baby by @buckyalpine

Bucky has a furry little secret.

Not A Fan by @buckyalpine

Alpine is not a fan.

Completely by @rassvetsky

Being one of the few people Bucky Barnes trusted meant having to babysit Alpine when he's away. Luckily for you, Alpine was one hell of a listener and you were sure she got that from her dad.

Bittersweet by @rassvetsky

When it's just you, Bucky & Alpine in the Barnes residence; time seems to stop, only allowing for heartfelt confessions and kisses to be exchanged.

Meditation by @myfirstnameisagent

Bucky, Alpine & You by @marvelettesassemblenow

You didn’t realize that getting in a relationship with Bucky meant getting in one with his cat too.

Alpine by @coffeecatsandcandles

Bucky rescues a stray cat and brings her home.

You’re My Bucky by @subwaysurf45

after a breakdown, Bucky finally asks a question that’s been eating away at him for months.

Love has Four Paws and a Heartbeat by @rookthorne

A shame, really, that he had thought that you had listened, and you wouldn’t make a big deal of it; he was so wrong, and he would be better off for being so, for when a paw touched your heart, it would never leave.

The Matchmaker by @buckysknifecollection

Alpine hates every single date Bucky brings home. He likes you though...

Alpine for You by @tuiccim

Bucky was on a mission. Not for the Avengers or Steve, but to find you the perfect kitten.

Headcanon by @angrythingstarlight

Chubby Bucky and Alpine.

Cat-Napped by @holylulusworld

A cat cat-naps your rat.

meet-cute by @dirtychocolatechai

Bucky and vet!reader.

Little Kitten by @phantomspiderr

Bucky comes home to an adorable surprise

upstairs by @onceuponastory

Bucky Barnes is constantly annoyed by his cat Alpine going to visit his upstairs neighbour for treats. That is however, until Bucky meets his new upstairs neighbour Y/N. Who Bucky definitely isn’t in love with. Not at all. Turns out that a 106 year old man might know more about love than he first thought. And that cats can make excellent wingmen.

navillera by @sgt-seabass

Bucky returns home after a mission, ready to spend time with his two favourite people, you and Alpine.

Cat Dad by @plussizefantasia

Your boyfriend is being held captive and you're the only one who can save him.

the white cat by @lizzie-is-here

a late night stop at the animal shelter, a truck, and a dinner date

Alpine by @eviesaurusrex

YN walks into their kitchen, ready to start baking Bucky’s favorite cupcakes, only for a white little intruder to thwart her plan.

Rooted In Love | Love In Bloom by @jobean12-blog

You and Bucky run into each other (literally) while plant shopping.

[holylulusworld]

Heavenly creature - Unbreakable Bonds (6)

Summary: A stranger saves you from an unfriendly encounter. Is he a knight in shiny armor?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Princess Shuri

Warnings: heavy angst, language, hurt & comfort, clingy/possessive reader, fluff, dad!Steve

A/N: I usually do not describe my reader’s appearance/race. In this case I had to make an exception as it’s important for the storyline.

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

<< Part 5

Heavenly Creature masterlist

“Soldier, are we done for today?” You hopefully look at Bucky when he walks inside the examination room. Your face falls seeing Steve by his side. “Please?”

“We are almost done for today,” Steve softly says. “Our friend will run a few more tests, okay.”

You reluctantly nod. 

“They mean no harm,” Bucky adds. You visibly relax at his words. “How about we have lunch together? All of us.” He holds out his hand and forces a smile on his face.

“Yes,” you grab his hand and smile widely. “Can we have dessert too? I miss ice cream. I haven’t had some in ages.”

“Why?” Steve asks. “Ice cream is great.”

“They said it’s bad and…” You suck in a breath. The words just slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Sugar is bad…feelings too…”

“Doll,” Bucky wraps his arms around you when you start to cry. “Hey, you can eat as much ice cream as you want to.”

“What if I can’t heal you because I ate sugar? What if you die?” You fist Bucky’s shirt. “I can’t risk losing you. It will be all my fault if you can’t be healed.”

Steve chokes out a sob. He witnessed Hydra’s cruelty more than once. But your broken voice telling them all the things Hydra planted in your young mind when you were a child, is unbearable to him.

“They won’t know, Y/N,” Steve tries once again to get your attention. “Bucky is healthy and strong. If he gets hurt, we can help him at the medic bay. We have doctors, and I can donate blood for him too. I’m a super-soldier, remember?”

“You can?” You lift your head and sniffle. “Is your blood as good as mine? Maybe it’s not as good…”

“Y/N, I’m your father. We share the same blood,” Steve holds back another sob when you reluctantly let go of Bucky to step toward him. “I’m a universal donor too.”

“Oh!” Your smile widens and you grasp Steve’s hand. “You can save my soldier too! Wonderful!”

Steve holds back a sigh. Your whole world seems to revolve around his friend. Since they broke the barrier you built in your mind to protect yourself from remembering your past, you lost interest in anything but Bucky. 

“We should eat now,” Steve murmurs, afraid to scare you off if he speaks any louder. “What do you like?”

“Pasta and ice cream,” you dreamily say. “Maybe we can have chocolate too, and pudding. I love pudding.”

“Hmm…tastes great,” you shovel the pasta in your mouth, ignoring people staring at you and the super-soldiers at your table. “What?” You cock a brow. “It’s good.”

“You should slow down,” Steve whispers, afraid to draw too much attention toward your table. “There is more than enough.”

“It’s delicious and I don’t want you to steal my food,” you pout at Steve before you look at Bucky. “Why don’t you eat, soldier? You need food to stay strong and healthy.”

“I’m good,” Bucky barely touched the food in front of him. On your way to the restaurant, you talked non-stop about your past, and all the things your so-called parents forbid you. Like playing with your dolls or spending time with other kids.

You nod but worry Bucky might be sick. “Are you sick? Do you need me to help you?” You slip off the chair to press the back of your hand to Bucky’s forehead. “No temperature. That’s good. You’re not having a fever then.”

“Y/N,” Steve gets up from his chair to stop you from examining Bucky. “Please eat your food. Bucky is not sick. You need the food more than him.”

“Okay.”

Steve pulls the chair for you, nodding at his friend. “You need to eat something too, Buck. We don’t want Y/N to worry about you. Give her what she needs…”

“I’ll eat, doll,” Bucky lifts the spoon to his mouth. “See. No reason to worry about me all the time.”

You shyly glance at your plate. There is chaos in your mind. A part of you wants to be close to Bucky, and make sure he’s safe. And the little part that’s left of the shy librarian is screaming bloody murder and begs you to run for the hills if you get the chance to do so.

So far, you don’t know which part of your personality will win the war going on inside of you. You’d love it to be the part wanting to be close to Bucky. Because without him, who are you?

Steve shows you around the apartment they prepared at the Avengers’ tower for you. You follow him, barely sparing the furniture and decoration a glance.

“We got most of your things, some books too. If you need anything else, please let me know,” he hopefully looks at you, waiting for your response.

“That’s very kind of you, and Mr. Stark but—” you chew on your lower lip, afraid to anger the super-soldier. “Can I not stay with my soldier?”

“Y/N,” he sighs. “I know something tells you that you must stay close to Bucky, but it’s best if you stay here for a while. You need to time on your own, and to sort your thoughts.”

“I want—” you shake your head. “I need to stay close. Please don’t leave me here all alone with my thoughts. Please.” You grab Steve’s hand, tugging hard. “Please Dad…don’t leave me alone with them…”

“With whom?” he softly asks. “Y/N?”

“The ghosts of my past,” you whimper. “I can hear them in my head now. Mom. Dad. My aunt. The doctors. The men with the guns,” you sniffle. “They are screaming at me. If I’m close to the soldier, they are gone.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Steve wraps you in a hug. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Bucky hates himself for kidnapping and hurting you. He blames himself for forcing you to remember your past.”

“I hated my life before the soldier found me again. Nightmares and flashbacks aren’t new to me. I just didn’t know why the voices followed me around. At least now I know that I’m not crazy.

“If you want me to, I’ll ask Bucky if it’s okay that you stay with him for tonight.”

“Please.”

Steve wishes you’d seek his closeness. You’re a grown woman, still, Steve feels like he’s holding a newborn child in his arms. Not days ago, he believed he’d never get the chance to become a father, and now he’s holding his child in his arms.  

“We will ask him together. Okay. Don’t worry. Bucky is a good man and will not send you away. Get a few things and I’ll be waiting outside for you.”

Steve steps away to leave the room. He’s still torn between protecting you from his best friend and being happy that you trust Bucky enough to feel safe close to him.

“You’d have been a much better dad,” you murmur as Steve grabs the door handle. “Now I know why they never told me about you.”

“I wish I knew about you, Y/N. I’d have come to your aid and saved you and Bucky.”

“I know.”

“No programming and no manipulation?” Tony huffs. “That’s impossible. It’s like she’s programmed to follow Barnes like a puppy.”

Shuri shakes her head. “You don’t understand. In a way, she got manipulated by Hydra. But – the part of Y/N seeking White Wolf’s closeness is the part that remembers his kindness in times of need. I talked to her for hours and ran all the tests. It’s her, nothing more and nothing less.”

“I don’t—” Tony shakes his head. “How’s that possible?”

“Her vulnerable soul and broken mind tried to find a way to bear all the pain and treatment. Somehow, a bond between these tortured souls formed so many years ago. And I think it’s unbreakable…”

“Sold-“ you stop yourself from pouncing on Bucky. You nervously shuffle from one foot to the other, waiting for Bucky to tell you to get closer. “Bucky.”

“Hi,” Bucky offers a weak smile. “How are you?”

“I…” Dropping your gaze you shrug. “I don’t know, to be honest. I remember everything now. Hydra. You. My parents, who weren’t my parents. My time as a librarian. The soldier protecting me.”

“I remember you now too,” he slowly steps closer and holds out his hand. “Back then I made a promise to you. Do you remember?”

“Yes,” you nod and smile. “You said that no one will ever hurt me again. That you’ll save me and get me away from the bad people.”

“I will keep that promise from now on. I failed you in the past,” he takes your hand to gently hold it, “I won’t fail this time...”

The End...?

Tags in reblog.

[middlingmay]

Can you tell us a bit more about photographer Gale and model Bucky?

Hello Anon :) Thanks for the ask!

I actually have the second part of this AU drafted so it should be posted within the week. I don't want to spoil anything from that, so I can tell you a bit more about Gale.

Gale got into photography mostly as a lark. He needed an elective in College between mathematics and physics and photography was the only thing that sounded remotely interesting.

He's so bad at first. Their tutor assigns them to photograph buildings and plants and scenery and objects, and he thinks maybe, just maybe, dance would have been less torture than this.

But then, he gets to photograph people, and it's like a switch is flicked.

He loves to pick out all the details of their faces, the lines and curves of their bodies, the expressions in their eyes.

He loves high contrast black and white, and vibrant colours, and movement.

And it's a good thing, too, because when his dad's drinking comes back to haunt him and he gets sick, Gale has no choice but to leave college and take care of his parents.

So photography pays the bills, but his love for it dies a little because he has to do basic commercial stuff because he needs the cash.

When he gets to call from Helen about a calendar for the LGBTQ+ centre, he finally gets excited again. He knows her through Crosby, a friend from college. He and Helen dated for a bit, whilst he was also seeing his now wife, Vera.

Helen warns him about John. "He comes across all brash and bravado, and he is. He's utterly charming. With a heart of gold. But don't let him fool you, Gale. He's been through...he's got a lot of soft spots, under it all. I chose you because you're brilliant, but also because I know you'll be gentle with him. Poor sod doesn't know he needs it."

And that's where we'll pick up in Part 2!

[buckyownsmylife]

Crash & Burn - Chapter 3

The one where Bucky is your father best friend, and the man you want to take your virginity.

Bucky is losing everything: his wife, his business, his house. And when his best friend is too busy to offer him the support he needs, you offer him your ear and shoulder. He wouldn't find it too bad that getting closer to you made him see you with new eyes, if it wasn't for the one thing you asked in return: you want him to be the first man to ever fuck you.

For general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Bucky? Oh, thank God?” Eyebrows furrowed, I immediately sat up straighter on the bed, instinctively reaching for my car keys once I detected the panic in her voice. “I… I hate to disturb you, I know it’s pretty late but…”

“Text me the address,” I interrupted her, scrambling off the bed and almost falling on my face in the process. I made a mental note - don’t try to put on sweatpants while on the phone with someone, but for now, this would have to do. “Do you want me to stay in line with you while I drive?”

My heart was pounding as I waited for her answer. I could hear the sounds of the party she’d gone to in the distance, but it was muffled - like she was hiding from it behind a door or something.

“I’d like that.” Silently thanking the heavens for her answer, I rushed to get to the house she was in as quickly as possible. I would have trusted her safety if she’d chosen to hang up, but that didn’t mean my mind wouldn’t race. I was used to jumping to the worst conclusions, and this particular situation didn’t exactly help me reason with my anxieties.

A loud crash came from the other line, startling me as I put on my seatbelt. “Are you okay?” It took her a little while and the most adorable giggle preceded her answer.

“Yeah… I just stumbled and fell over a plant. But she’s okay, I guess.” I could just picture her, petting the leaves of the greenery she’d accidentally disturbed. God, she was adorable.

“Are you drunk?” It suddenly occurred to me, and I was already chuckling by the time her “Please, don’t tell my dad” came. “Honey, you’re in grad school. Your dad won’t care if you had a couple of drinks on a Friday night.”

“Oh, right!” Shaking my head, I focused on the intersection I was about to cross while making a mental note to talk to her about how much she drank tomorrow. I really didn’t care about her consuming alcohol - she was a grown-up, after all - but she should never get drunk near people she didn’t trust, and it seemed like this had been precisely what had happened tonight.

“Are you close?” I considered the route the app was showing me.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon.” She seemed to calm down at my answer, but that was only until someone started to bang on the door I assumed behind which she was hiding.

“C’mon, baby! I know you’re in there. Come out, let’s have some fun together.” My palms were sweaty as I gripped the stirring wheel tighter, grinding my teeth at her sharp inhale of breath. I hated that she was scared because of some dumb boy and there was nothing I could do about it…

Yet.

“Hold on…” I muttered under my breath, knowing she’d never heard me over the ruckus he was causing. If only this car could move faster…

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I tried to make myself smaller, hoping the wall would somehow swallow me and hide me from the guy on the other side of the door. If I’d known this is what Peter would become with a few beers in him, I’d never have agreed to come to this party in the first place.

I could already feel a headache forming and I wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow morning. I knew I would wake up hungover and most definitely regretful of every decision that led to this moment, but for now, all I could care about was that Bucky was coming and he’d take me far, far away from this evening and everything that had happened.

“Please, be quick…” I whispered, clutching my phone against my chest as I watched Peter fumble with the knob until suddenly, he stopped.

It all stopped, actually. His yells, the sounds of the music from outside, it all came to a screeching halt and my heart sped up in anticipation as I approached the door with careful steps.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Yep, that was James. Feeling safe enough to open the door now, I unlocked it and spied the outside, finding the party had stopped to watch the much older gentleman who’d suddenly appeared give the owner of the house his ass on a silver platter. “No means fucking no, haven’t you ever learned that?”

He turned around and his eyes met mine, almost as if he’d noticed me staring. But if I was hoping for my presence to ease his anger somewhat, it seemed to have the opposite effect, completely.

“What did he do?” It took a minute for my inebriated mind to make sense of what he was asking, but once I did, I didn’t know how to answer it.

“I can’t repeat the kind of stuff he said.” I shook my head emphatically, refusing to relive the haunting things Peter had whispered in my ear once he’d cornered me into a room. I watched as he had the guts to try to defend himself, only to shut his mouth with a glance from the man in the room.

“I’m not talking to you.” It was all he said, and Peter immediately cowered. A shudder ran down my spine at the roughness in his tone of voice, but I wasn’t scared. “Was it dirty?” Again, it took me a few seconds.

“There’s dirty and then there’s just straight down nasty.” I shrugged, trying to fake nonchalance even though the mere memory of what Peter had said made me want to hide my face behind my hands. But I was an adult - Bucky had said so himself.

I shouldn’t be hiding, so I didn’t.

Bucky leaned closer to Peter, taking advantage of the grip he still had on his shirt. I hadn’t even noticed it until their noses were all but touching. “If I ever even imagine she’s had to put up with any shit from you anymore, I’ll make you wish you were never even born. Got it?”

Oh, wow. That was hot.

I didn’t even notice the giggles all around us - or the frown on Bucky’s face. All I could focus on was how warm his hand felt when it clasped around my wrist, right before he started tugging me towards the exit.

“Let’s go.”